by Amira Rain
“Well, it really looks—”
“This is exactly how I normally walk.”
“With a clear limp? One that you didn’t have before you tripped?”
Stifling a deep sigh of resignation, I didn’t answer right away. “It’s just a twinge. Honestly. I’ve had a sprained ankle before, and the pain was much, much worse than this. This is really just a twinge.”
“Well, it looks like enough of one so that you can’t put full weight on your foot.”
“Nope. I’m just trying to...”
I didn’t finish the thought, not quite sure exactly what I was trying to do anymore.
“Avery, please stop for a second.”
Reluctantly, I did.
After hiking up my rather large and heavily-packed duffel bag on his shoulder, Jim looked at me for a second before speaking. “The cabin that will be yours is near the end of the lane, so with fifty-something on each side, we have a good forty-something to go. You can’t make it that far limping on a tender ankle. You might further injure it.”
I knew what was coming. He was going to offer to walk me to my cabin with an arm beneath my shoulders to give me support. And I didn’t want that. Not only because of the embarrassment factor, but because something deep within my brain was warning me that feeling one of Jim’s strong arms around me for an extended length of time, and possible catching whiffs of his heavenly scent for an extended length of time, were two things I should definitely avoid.
So, desperate to avoid having him offer to support me with an arm beneath my shoulders, I quickly scrambled to think of some other way I could make it to my cabin. “Well, look. I have a wooden folding easel in my bag. It’s pretty tall when it’s set up. Maybe I can use it as some sort of a crutch or something.”
Jim just looked at me for a long moment. And even in the pale moonlight, I could see his mouth twitching with amusement.
“You want to use a folding easel as a crutch?”
My face instantly flamed.
“Well, it sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”
“I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t mean—”
“I was just trying to avoid you offering to help me along with an arm under my shoulders or something. I just have a slight twinge, so I really don’t need that kind of help, if that’s what you’re going to offer.”
“That’s not what I’m going to offer. I’d much rather just carry you.”
CHAPTER THREE
In shock and disbelief about what he’d said, I just looked at Jim for a long moment. “No. No, thank you. No way. I do not need to be carried. In fact, considering that I only have an extremely mild sprain, and that’s at worst, I think the suggestion is a little ridiculous.”
While I’d been speaking, Jim had been kind of looking up and around at the tall pines between the cabins with his mouth twitching once again, as if he thought what I was saying was a little ridiculous, but he was committed to politely humoring me until I was finished.
Now that I was, he finally looked at me again. “Avery, I’m not saying that you’re helpless, and I’m not saying I’m going to throw you over my shoulder.”
So, he’d be holding me to his chest. That would almost be worse in terms of feeling his strong arms and smelling his scent.
“I’m just suggesting that I carry you, simply because it will be easier on you than you limping or hobbling along trying to use an easel as a crutch.”
I was really beginning to regret that I’d suggested that.
“So, what do you say? Will you agree to let me carry you, so that we can reach your cabin faster? I really would appreciate it, since I’d like a few minutes for a cup of coffee and a little breakfast before starting my workday around dawn.”
So, that was why he wanted to carry me. So that we could reach my cabin quicker, and then he could have breakfast. I really didn’t blame him at all; begrudging him time for coffee and breakfast would have been very unkind. It was just that I now realized that maybe I’d been hoping that he wanted to carry me maybe because he found me as attractive as I found him. I realized that some tiny part of me had been hoping this even while I fought against him not to be carried.
Being made aware of the true reason he wanted to carry me had somehow softened my resolve not to be carried, and I now nodded.
“All right. You can carry me.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he scooped me up and began carrying me down the lane in the dark, holding me to his chest. And the experience was every bit as bad and as good as I’d been afraid of and yet slightly hoping it would be.
The experience was good because the sensation of being held in Jim’s arms, cradled against his hard chest, breathing in his woodsy, musky scent, was what I could only describe as exquisite. But not just because it felt good to have my body against his, and his against mine. I somehow felt safe in his arms, and on such a profound level that it was startling and even alarming. Particularly since Jim was still just a near-stranger to me. Just some man who was probably going to constantly harp on me to use my power for national defense.
The experience of being held by Jim was bad for all the same reasons it was good. It was bad because it was so good that I thought it was likely that I could get very used to being held in his arms, and I didn’t want that, being that I knew next-to-nothing about him. Sure, I’d heard things about him, but I didn’t know him personally. For all I knew, Ridgewood’s town hero could be a complete womanizer. He could be a complete tyrant. He could be a violent drug addict. Though, to be honest, I kind of doubted that last scenario was true. And really, I doubted the second as well. And from what I’d heard around town, Jim seemed to be the opposite of a womanizer. I actually hadn’t heard any talk about his love life, other than Platinum Blonde Lady saying he was single.
For the first little stretch of Jim walking, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with my hands and arms. Wrapping them around his neck seemed a little too something, though I had no idea what that something might be. I was feeling a bit like I was in junior high school on a first date at the roller rink, not quite sure whether to grab the boy’s hand.
I really never did figure out what to do with my hands and arms the entire time we were walking. Eventually, I decided to keep them how I’d originally put them, which was just kind of awkwardly loosely folded on my chest.
For the first maybe ten cabins we passed, neither of us spoke. Which, that probably should have been the awkward thing, if anything was, but somehow it wasn’t. Not to me, anyway. I could tell that Jim wasn’t the kind of man who chattered, and he seemed perfectly comfortable with stretches of silence, even with a woman who was essentially a stranger cradled to his chest; and I supposed that his seeming comfort with silence between us made me feel okay with it, too. He kept his gaze ahead, and I kept mine up at the stars.
It was Jim who ended up breaking the silence, but it didn’t seem like he’d done it out of even the slightest sense of creeping awkwardness. He asked me what I’d done in Ridgewood before the agents had come knocking on my door, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer, and wasn’t just trying to get me to talk for talking’s sake.
I studied his silvery, moonlit face, surprised that he didn’t already know the answer to his question. “You mean the agents didn’t tell you all about me? They seemed to know everything. Near-everything, anyway.”
“Well... they told me a few things about you. But I don’t like to learn about people from third parties. I like to learn about a person from the person themselves, in their own words. So, what did you do in Ridgewood before the agents came knocking on your door?”
“Well... for the past nine months, I attended the local college by taking online classes for a degree in business administration. I earned a degree, and I was set to begin a new job this Monday.”
“And was this job important to you?”
“No. Not really. It was just a way to earn money.”
Jim seemed to consider this for a mome
nt. “And what did you do before you started the college classes?”
“Well, I worked as an art teacher at the high school for twelve days. Then my position was cut because of all the state and federal money being diverted to deal with the Angels.”
“And before the job at the high school?”
“Chicago. Ran a small, failing art gallery for a few years. Before that, a couple months waiting tables after studying art, art history, and getting a teaching certificate.”
“And how about before that? Before you struck out on your own. What was your family like?”
Now we were getting into slightly uncomfortable territory.
“Well... past age eight, I was raised by my maternal grandparents.”
“And before age eight?”
Now we were waist-deep in uncomfortable territory. I needed to change the subject.
“Jim? Can I ask you a question? How are you not getting winded in the least? I know I’m not feather-light.”
I did really want to know how he wasn’t getting winded. He wasn’t breathing heavily in the least.
Ignoring the fact that I’d ignored his last question to me, he cracked a half-grin, the effect devastating in its sexiness. And this was even without me being able to fully see his half-grin, because we were walking along in the dark.
“All shifters have increased speed, strength, and stamina in animal form, but many shifters have increased speed, strength, and stamina in human form as well.”
“And let me guess. You’re one of those shifters.”
Another half-grin told me that he was. Immediately, and seemingly of its own accord, my mind began wandering to thoughts of how increased, speed, strength, and stamina, particularly strength and stamina, might play out during a bedroom experience with a shifter. Almost as immediately as my mind had begun to wander, my face flamed, and I cleared my throat, deciding to turn the subject away from shifter attributes.
“So, you’ve pretty much heard my whole life story now, so tell me a bit about yours. I heard you were sheriff of Ridgewood, but what did you do before that?”
“Well, before that, I was sheriff of a Ridgewood-sized town in Tennessee, and before that, I worked in law enforcement in Atlanta for several years. Before that, police academy, and before that, happy high school years playing football and baseball in Indiana, where I also had a nice childhood with my two younger brothers and my parents. Before that, I suppose I was just floating on a star somewhere, just waiting to be born.”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be poetic or funny, but a quick check of his twitching mouth told me that he was trying to be the latter.
Now assured that I could let a laugh out, I did, and Jim smiled, seemingly appreciative. After that, a period of comfortable silence began. Jim kept his gaze straight ahead, and I returned my gaze to the stars.
A short while later, he announced that we’d reached “my” cabin. “This will be home for you, and I hope you’ll like it all right. It’s nothing fancy... just a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, like most of the other cabins... but it should be enough.”
I soon found that my cabin would be more than enough. Jim carried me inside, set me down in the living room, and turned on a few lights, and I had to work to suppress a possibly-overly-enthusiastic gasp of pleasure.
“Oh, this will be just great, Jim.”
The flooring and walls of the cabin were made of light, honey-colored wood. Rugs in various shades of dark blue and green covered the living room area, and a few small lamps bathed the room in a golden glow. Along one of the walls, I spied a granite fireplace that instantly made me long for cold winter nights, something I’d never done before in my life. At least a dozen thick books sat on a coffee table made of polished, though rough-hewn, timber.
I wasn’t quite sure why, but I was completely in love. This was going to be my sanctuary; I could almost hear a quiet little voice whispering this in my ear. I was home. After nearly a whole lifetime living in the city, I had finally found my place in the world, the place I was meant to be. It was in a country cabin in the forest, with a man named Jim smiling at me, one strong arm propped against one of the living room walls.
“Well, I’m glad you like it, Avery.”
“I do. It’s really perfect.”
I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I saw a slight wash of color rise to Jim’s handsome face. Though maybe it was just that his face was bathed in the warm light.
“Good. I’m really glad you like it. I would have thought it might be a little too rustic for a former city girl like yourself.”
“No. It’s...” I glanced over to the fireplace again. “It’s just the perfect amount of rustic.”
Looking into my eyes, Jim smiled again, then cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to unpack your bag and get settled in now.”
“Okay.”
“But before I go, how does your ankle feel?”
Testing it, I shifted my weight onto it. “Honestly, it’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
It really didn’t.
“I think I just kind of ‘crunched’ it in a funny way when I stumbled. I really don’t think it’s even sprained slightly.”
“Good. Well, just so you know, if it causes you any trouble, one of our Gifteds here is also a doctor, and another is a registered nurse. They can check it out and see if you need any treatment.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I was having a hard time focusing on the subject at hand. The living room lamps had not only confirmed Jim’s handsomeness, but had revealed him as ruggedly handsome, a kind of handsome I found near-irresistible. Dressed in faded black jeans, an off-white t-shirt that I could tell had used to be white, and a dark coat lined with faux-lambswool, he appeared to me like a rancher, minus the ranch. Or maybe like some kind of a cowboy, if modern-day Michigan had had cowboys. If Michigan had ever had cowboys at all.
Now in the light, I could see he was somewhere in his mid-thirties, a good six or seven years older than me, which I liked, for some reason. And not for any particular reason, but liked just on a gut level; I really didn’t know why. I also didn’t know why I liked the stubbly scruff on Jim’s face, scruff that told me he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. I just did.
Seeming to find my ankle situation satisfactorily dealt with, he gave me the hint of a grin. “Well, goodnight, Avery. Or, good morning, if you don’t intend to catch any sleep before daybreak. Oh, and by the way, there’s a bed in your bedroom, nightstand, all of that. The whole cabin is fully furnished. When the movers come with your things tomorrow, you can have the cabin furnishings swapped out, or you can have your own furniture put in our community storage building. Either way is fine.”
“Okay. But I think I’ll probably keep the cabin furnishings how they are. I really like them.”
Jim curved his delectable lips in the hint of a smile. “All right. Good.”
Just looking at him, I couldn’t hold back the hint of a smile myself. And that was when the good rapport between Jim and me went off the rails.
CHAPTER FOUR
Making a bit of heat rise to my face, Jim looked deeply into my eyes for a long moment. Right before clearing his throat. “All right, well, take the day tomorrow to get unpacked and settled in. You’ll probably meet a few people around here... maybe make a few friends.”
“Okay.”
“Then, Monday, first thing, you’ll join us all for training exercises in the morning.”
I just looked at him for a moment. “I’ll join you all for... for—”
“For training exercises. There’s a large field just to the west of the village. That’s where we all meet for ‘practice’ a few days out of the month. Sometimes, we all get together more often. It’s needed so that us shifters and you Gifteds can learn to fight well together, so that—”
“But... but I’m not going to be—”
“Don’t worry. Us shifters do the patrols along the northern line making su
re that none of the Angels are able to slip into our territory. Most of you Gifteds have a lot less responsibility and a lot more free time. So—”
“But I won’t be fighting, Jim. Not ever. So, as far as what you said about ‘practice’ I don’t think—”
“Well, regardless of what you think, you will be joining us for training exercises. Everyone in Timberline participates.”
I just stared at Jim for what felt like an excruciatingly long moment. “Not me. I won’t be. I won’t be participating at all.”
Looking at me while clenching his strong, square jaw, Jim stood up straight from his lean against the wall. “You will be participating, Avery. We’re a community—a family of sorts here in Timberline—and we all help. We all pitch in to do what we can.”
“But—”
“That doesn’t mean that everyone fights on the front lines. That doesn’t mean that everyone is directly responsible for holding the Angels back. But everyone is absolutely expected to help in whatever way they can, to the best of their ability. Which includes participating in training exercises that make us all stronger as a group. Which includes every single one of you Gifteds practicing her power, to try to—”
“No. I don’t care what you say, Jim, I won’t. I won’t practice, I won’t participate, I won’t do any of that.”
As if he were suddenly my enemy, instead of a man who’d carried me to my cabin, I’d taken a few steps back from him.
Now he took a few steps closer to me. “You will, Avery. I won’t require you to participate in fighting before you’re ready, but as far as being present at training—”
“But... the agent lady made it sound like all I had to do was just come here. She didn’t say there would be any forced participation in—”
“Well, ‘the agent lady’ doesn’t run this place. I do.”
Standing not a foot away from me, Jim looked deeply into my eyes, as if to impress upon me what he’d just said.