Gifted - The 5 Book Paranormal Romance Box Set

by Amira Rain

  I said sure we could go. “You definitely deserve a treat for all your hard work. But how will we get there? Ridgewood’s five miles away, and I don’t have a car.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ve got a ride. Now let’s just hurry up and get down to the parking lot place of the village so we can get going.”

  “But who—”

  “Oh, one of the shifter guys who has a truck. He always gives me rides into Ridgewood whenever I want.”

  “Oh. Well, okay. Let me grab my wallet, and we’ll go.”

  “Okay, and I'll grab Marbles. Even though he hasn’t been working very hard on his reading and spelling lately, and he hasn’t even been working on those things at all, I think he still deserves a treat, too. He’s such a good boy that they’ve even starting letting him come right on in the ice cream shop with me. Of course it might be partly because he barks nonstop when I tie him up outside, and it really annoys everyone, but... well, I like to think it’s mostly because everyone’s starting to realize what an awesome dog he is.”

  While we walked down the lane in the sunshine, several women waved to us from their porches, and several others we crossed paths with walking said hello and stopped to chat briefly. One of them was a woman who’d just that day discovered that she and her shifter husband were expecting a baby. I envied her for a couple of different reasons, one of which was the complete joy apparent on her face. I also envied her because as a pregnant woman, she didn’t have to participate in training or fights anymore. However, this was the only thing she herself seemed bummed about.

  When Jen and I approached the circular dirt parking lot at the end of the lane, I saw a man sitting in a shiny black pickup truck on the side of the curve closest to us. I couldn’t be sure, but at a distance, this man looked an awful lot like Jim.

  With a sense of unease, I glanced over at Jen. “Is that Jim sitting in that black truck?”

  “Oh, yeah. Jim’s our ride, by the way.”

  I heaved a sigh. “Well, when you said our ride is ‘one of the shifter guys who has a truck,’ do you think you might have been a bit more specific about exactly which—”

  “But when I set up the ride this morning, he said you’re a little bit mad at him for some reason, so I figured I probably shouldn’t tell you that he’s our ride until the very last second, so you wouldn’t change your mind about wanting to go get ice cream with me. Sorry about that, Avery, but I’m just really looking forward to our ice cream day. We only have things like Popsicles and plain ice cream here in Timberline, but in Ridgewood, they have this little shop with like, fifty different flavors of ice cream, and hundreds of different sprinkle choices, and hundreds of different fudge choices. I’m getting mint fudge with bubblegum ice cream, banana chips, and pink sprinkles. That’s the very best combination they have.”

  Other than exchanging polite hellos, Jim and I didn’t speak to each other the entire drive into Ridgewood. Really, neither of us spoke much at all. Jen did most of the talking, chattering about ice cream, and turning around in her seat to wave and say different things to Marbles, who was riding in the bed of the truck, tongue out and tail wagging, obviously enjoying every moment of the trip.

  Even if I’d wanted to talk to Jim, I likely wouldn’t have been able to think of anything to say. Sitting right next to him, between him and Jen, I was catching whiffs of his woodsy, masculine scent every so often, and they were doing a fine job of scrambling my brain. Adding to the scrambling, my left leg was just about an inch away from one of Jim’s long, muscular thighs, and at least every minute or so, Jen would jostle me as she turned around to wave to Marbles, making my leg make contact with Jim’s for a second. It really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but every time our legs touched, even for a second, I experienced a wave of butterflies so intense it felt something like having a stomach drop on a roller coaster.

  Once in Ridgewood, Jen, Marbles, and I went for ice cream while Jim made a trip to the hardware store across the street for a few items he needed. Sitting right next to the glass storefront windows of the ice cream shop, I had full view of the hardware store, and I saw when Jim emerged carrying a few tools of some kind. Instead of heading to his truck, he sat down on a wrought-iron bench adjacent to the hardware store, took out his phone, and began doing something on it, texting maybe. With sunshine glinting on his dark hair, and bathing his handsome, lightly-tanned face in a golden glow, Jim looked even more attractive than usual, which somehow irritated me. I would have preferred that he look less attractive than usual, because then, I might have been able to stop thinking about how his thigh held felt against mine during those brief seconds in the truck.

  Soon, while Jen chattered away and fed Marbles tiny bites of her ice cream, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one preoccupied with Jim’s attractiveness. Next to the hardware store was a bakery, and two young women emerged carrying brooms. They began sweeping the section of sidewalk in front of the bakery, both of them glancing over at Jim as they did so. Being that it didn’t seem like it should take two people to sweep a small section of sidewalk, not to mention a section that already looked completely free of any dirt and debris, it was obvious that the two young women were just outside trying to attract Jim’s attention. And even if their unnecessary-looking sweeping hadn’t told me that, their furtive little glances at him would have.

  It didn’t even take them a minute to sweep their way over to Jim, and it appeared that they both said hello to him. He looked up from his phone, appeared to say hello in return with a polite smile, and then went back to his phone. Clearly disappointed, one of the women frowned and then seemed to say something else, trying to engage him in conversation. Again, Jim looked up briefly and smiled politely, then went back to his phone. Now the other young woman tried to engage him in conversation, leaning against her broom and jutting out one of her curvaceous hips while she did so.

  If Jim was becoming irritated, he didn’t show it; however, it was clear that he wasn’t interested in having any further conversation with either of the two young women. He seemed to say something else, then got up, grabbed the tools he’d bought, and began heading across the street to his truck with a wave and a polite smile. After waving back, smiling, the two young women exchanged glances, now both frowning, clearly disappointed that their sidewalk-sweeping scheme hadn’t yielded better results. Now with Jim gone, they both immediately headed back inside the bakery.

  Jen had been half-watching the scene, and after watching the women disappear, she laughed. “See? That’s always what happens. All these girls always try to hit on Jim all the time, but he’s always just like... ‘Nope!’ He’s real picky about girls. Which is why you should feel lucky, Avery, that he acts like he wants to be your boyfriend. Oh, and now look again. Now more girls are swarming him.”

  Swarming wasn’t even that much of an exaggeration. Once Jim had crossed the street with fast, powerful strides, at least a half-dozen women had seemed to come out of nowhere, waving and standing between Jim and his truck. Considering their excited smiles and starry-eyed looks, I half-expected some of them to thrust notebooks and pens in Jim’s face to get autographs.

  Like he had with the two women from the bakery, Jim seemed less than thrilled, but he was about to be rescued. After he’d seemed to issue the women a perfunctory greeting, a tall, older man I recognized as the mayor of Ridgewood approached him grinning, then shook his hand and began talking animatedly, preventing any of the women from making any further conversation with Jim. Not half a minute later, a few other older men came over, shook Jim’s hand, and joined the conversation, and a few of the women crossed their arms over their chests, frowning, clearly put out.

  I wondered how Jim had ever been able to carry out his duties as sheriff of Ridgewood with so many “fans” around. Though, I realized, maybe everyone hadn’t been quite so “swarmy” when they’d been used to seeing Jim on a daily basis.

  Soon, Jen finished her ice cream and asked why I hadn’t made much pro
gress on mine. “Didn’t you like it?”

  I hadn’t even realized that I’d kind of stalled out on it after a few bites, even though the white chocolate ice cream with strawberry sauce that I’d ordered was absolutely delicious.

  I picked up my spoon and scooped up a bite. “It’s really good, but I guess I just... well...”

  “You just got a little hung up on watching to make sure that Jim didn’t want to become the boyfriend of one of those other girls, huh?”

  “Well, maybe something like that.”

  I’d gotten a little “hung up” thinking a few times that everything between Jim and me could be perfect if he would just stop insisting that I train and eventually fight. Really, other than that, he was the man of my dreams. And not just my dreams as far as my future and the kind of man I wanted to spend it with; I had to admit that he was the man of my erotic dreams, too, literally. Since arriving in Timberline, I’d had quite a few incredibly racy dreams starring Jim.

  After a few more bites of my ice cream, I told Jen I’d had all I wanted, and we left the ice cream shop. While Jim started saying goodbyes to the group of older men he’d been talking with, Jen and I began heading to the truck.

  Bouncing by the group of still-sulking young women, Jen waved at them. “Hi and bye, all you girls! Me and my new best friend, here, are going back to Timberline now with Jim, and by the way, he’s trying to become the boyfriend of my new best friend! That’s why he’s not talking to you guys! Bye!”

  The women looked from Jen to me, all of them with eyes widening then narrowing, in a near-comically swift turn from surprise to envy. One of the young women glaring particularly hard I recognized as the very attractive business office manager of the local college I’d attended.

  Again, Jim and I didn’t speak during the drive home. Also again, a very boisterous Jen kept jostling me every so often, making my leg brush against Jim’s, which gave me a wave of butterflies each and every time. Jen kept saying she was “on a major sugar high,” and she certainly seemed to be, but since she seemed to be pulling hard for Jim and me to officially become a couple, I started to wonder if her jostling wasn’t at least partly intentional, trying to get the two of us to make physical contact.

  To my relief, or maybe my irritation, I wasn’t even sure which anymore, I didn’t see Jim again for a solid four days. The Angels seemed to be ramping up their attacks, and for the first two days, Jim was busy fighting them off with the other Timberliners, then for the next two days, he was running patrols with some of his men.

  When I finally saw him again, it was at a council meeting, which he’d invited me to attend via text, saying that he wanted me to continue really becoming part of the community in Timberline.

  Annie mentioned that being invited to attend a council meeting was kind of a high honor, since the council was a very small group of shifters and Gifteds that worked closely with Jim on Angel-fighting strategy. “It seems like he must think you could really contribute and help, which means he must think you’re very smart.”

  I thought it more likely that he figured that inviting me to a council meeting would make me feel special, which might make me actually want to participate in training and fighting. At any rate, I’d agreed to attend the meeting, just because I’d become kind of desperate to see Jim for some reason, although at the same time, I kind of didn’t want to see him.

  CHAPTER 12

  The council meetings were held in a brightly-lit back room of the bar, and by the time Jen and I arrived a minute or two past eight in the evening, everyone else was already there, sitting around a long, rectangular boardroom-type table, which appeared to be solid mahogany, or maybe dark cherry wood. Jim sat at the head of the table, facing the door, and the opposite seat at the other end of the table was empty. To Jim’s right sat Aaron, then Annie, then three other shifters and another Gifted. On his left sat another shifter and three more Gifteds, but the two seats closest to him were empty. On the table in front of one of these empty spots, the spot directly to his left, sat a package of colored pencils, and a large box of crayons that I suspected were the “colored wax sticks” that Jen had told me about. She took a seat at this spot while I slid into the seat beside her, and then she addressed the group at large.

  “Sorry we’re a couple minutes late, guys. I knew I had a new secretarial book somewhere in the house, and I needed to bring it, because all my other ones to take notes in are full, but I just couldn’t find it at first.”

  The “secretarial book” she was referring to was actually an artist’s sketch pad, and she now set it on the table with a thunk.

  “Found it, though, and now I’m all ready to go.”

  Jim called the meeting to order, saying that the first item on the agenda had to do with a few “weak spots in defense,” as he said. “The shifter communities to our east and west are doing all they can, but there are still a few areas that I think are under-patrolled and vulnerable to attack, so I’d like to reorganize our own patrols to help shore up these weak spots. I have a few ideas I’ve been thinking about, but I’m open to suggestions as to how we might best do this.”

  What followed was a lengthy group discussion about patrol shifts, the different areas that were patrolled, areas that might actually be over-patrolled, and things of similar nature. While everyone talked, Jen colored furiously, first coloring a picture of the table and the group sitting around it, and then starting on a picture of tiny trees, grass, and different dirt paths, seemingly making a map of sorts. As the group discussion progressed, she began marking the map with groupings of red arrows, crossing each grouping out in blue whenever it was decided that a particular patrol route wouldn’t work.

  At one point, after Jim had made some suggestion pertaining to patrol strategy, Jen asked him to please repeat what he’d just said. “You guys are kind of starting to talk faster than I can take notes.”

  Annie groaned, then muttered something I couldn’t quite catch, but, seemingly ignoring her, Jim just turned to Jen and patiently repeated what he’d just said.

  With the corner of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, she scribbled a few more red arrows across her map. “Got it. Thanks.”

  After it had been decided how the patrols would now be organized, Jim moved onto a different subject, something about having decided to use a new fighting formation during the next fight against the Angels, and wanting to make sure that everyone was on board with it. Once he’d confirmed that everyone was, he moved on to something else.

  If he or Annie thought that I was going to jump in with an idea or suggestion at any point in the meeting, they were wrong. Most of what was being discussed in regards to patrols and strategy was so technical that I barely understood it. Several times, I found myself glancing over at Jen’s coloring to try to get a clue.

  When the meeting had been going on maybe forty-five minutes, I became aware that I was starting to develop a problem. Throughout the meeting, I hadn’t only been glancing at Jen’s coloring; I’d also been taking peeks at Jim’s incredibly handsome, strong-jawed, stubbly face, and now it was getting harder and harder to keep myself from focusing on his full, delectable lips. I wanted to kiss them badly; I didn’t even kid myself by trying to pretend that I didn’t. However, at the same time, I was determined not to get any closer to Jim until the whole issue of me training and fighting was resolved, and resolved to my satisfaction, essentially meaning until Jim agreed that I didn’t have to join in training. I was beginning to think that I was long overdue for some satisfaction of a different kind, though, a kind of satisfaction that I was pretty sure Jim would like to be a part of, and I wondered how long I might have to wait for that. I wondered how long Jim and I could each continue to be stubborn about the whole training and fighting issue.

  I didn’t want Jim to know that I found his lips almost impossibly tempting, and I didn’t want him to know any of the thoughts I was having. I was half-afraid he’d try to use the promise of kisses and satisfaction even beyond t
hat to tempt me into agreeing to participate in training. And I was half-afraid that if he did try that, I wouldn’t be able to refuse.

  I’d had my gaze on the table for a short while, trying to force myself not to look at Jim or his lips, or even think about him or his lips, when the sound of Annie raising her voice just a degree or two cut through my reverie.

  “I never said that, Tasha. I never would have said that we Gifteds should join the next fight in two different waves. We all know how well that strategy worked out at the fight back in February, so I never would have said we should try it again.”

  Tasha, a Gifted with gorgeous, glossy black curls, leaned forward over the table, gaze on Annie. “Well, I don’t think my ears were deceiving me at the last meeting. You did say that.”

  “No, I didn’t. I never said that.”

  Jen suddenly dropped a crayon and stood. “Oh, excuse me, but I think you did. Just let me get the notes from the last meeting, and I’ll prove it. Just let me pull them from my files. One moment please, everyone.”

  Jen got up and went over to a tall, gray metal filing cabinet in one corner of the room, and Annie turned her gaze to Jim.

  “Are you really going to let her interrupt the meeting for this? Are you really going to let her interrupt the meeting with her-her delusional nonsense?”

  Jim had clenched his jaw while Annie had been speaking, and he now unclenched it. “Jen is our council secretary, Annie, and she’s welcome to participate in group discussions if she likes.”

  Annie snorted, giving her head a little shake. “Come on. ‘Secretary?’ She—”

  “She is our secretary, Annie.” Pausing, Jim gave Annie a stern look. “Everyone in this community has value, and being our council secretary is part of hers.”