Ginny made herself smile brightly and took the easy route. “Hi, I’m going to pay this tab for my friends. They had to leave. If you could box up those desserts for them, that would be great.”
Lyra nodded. “Okay.”
Ginny dug enough cash out of her purse and dropped it on the bill, then took the bag with the desserts, along with Easy’s wallet, phone, and keys, and slipped out of the booth.
He’d gone to wash his hands, so if he wasn’t anywhere in the pub, she’d assume he was still in the bathroom. But what could have happened?
She stopped suddenly in the middle of the bar area, a terrifying thought overtaking her. What if he’d forgotten her? What if whatever magic that made him remember her had worn off? He would have gone home.
But no. She was just panicking based on past history. His keys were in her hand, along with his phone and wallet. He might forget her, but he wouldn’t forget them. And he couldn’t leave without his keys, so he was here somewhere. She tucked all three into her purse, then blew out a breath and told herself to calm down. This wasn’t about her, this was about Easy.
So what would keep him away?
There was only one other explanation that she could come up with. He’d shifted against his will. But how could that have happened in the pub when there was no—it hit her. The flyer on the bathroom wall.
The Full Moon Party, illustrated with a bright full moon. If the men’s bathroom had a bulletin board that matched the one in the women’s room, Easy could have seen that and gotten himself into trouble.
Ginny swallowed. This was not going to be fun.
Chapter Twelve
She didn’t want to barge into the men’s bathroom. That could cause all kinds of new trouble. Instead, she hovered near the door until someone came out. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Me?” The man turned.
She recognized him. Jerry Washington. Owned the dry cleaners. Troubled by the occasional white-hot halo of fire that surrounded him. She didn’t know what flipped the switch that turned that particular curse on, so she did her best to be as pleasant as possible.
“Yes,” she answered with a smile and gave him the simplest story she could come up with. “Sorry to bother you, but my brother wasn’t feeling well, and I think he’s in the men’s room. Was there anyone else in there? I’m worried about him.”
His brows scrunched like he was thinking. “Nobody else in there that I was aware of.”
“Okay, thank you. He must have gone outside.”
“Sure thing.” Jerry walked away.
This was her chance. Ginny took a breath and darted through the door. “Easy? Are you in here?”
A soft, pitiful woof answered her.
“Oh boy, it was the flyer, wasn’t it?”
Another woof.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.” She bent down to look under the stall doors. No feet. He must be sitting on one of the johns. “Which one are you in? The acoustics in here are making it hard for me to tell.”
Two yips this time. They came from the second stall. Yips? That wasn’t a wolf sound at all.
She put the bag of desserts on the counter, then went into the first stall, stood on the toilet, and looked over into the second one.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh my.”
The cutest, most adorable Yorkie looked up at her.
Do not laugh, do not laugh, do not laugh. “You’re, um, you’re not a wolf.”
The Yorkie snarled.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”
He let out a sad, apologetic whimper.
“Okay, hang on, I’m coming over.” She secured her purse across her body, then pressed herself up, vaulting easily over the dividing wall, and dropped to the floor. Heels and tight jeans didn’t really make for her best bathroom stall-climbing outfit, but she’d managed.
She held her hands out toward Easy. “I have to pick you up, but if you bite me, you’re in big trouble. Got it?”
A soft, more repentant woof answered her.
She scooped the Yorkie into her arms, smiling as soon as Easy couldn’t see her. He was so cute she wanted to talk baby talk to him and kiss his little face all over, but she had a feeling they’d never go out again if that happened.
Actually, he might stop talking to her altogether. She controlled the urge. “Let’s get you home.”
She shifted Easy to one arm, then unlocked the door, grabbed the bag of desserts, and strode out of the bathroom with her head high just as Deacon Evermore was on his way in.
“My mistake, sorry.” She picked up speed before Deacon could say anything, hightailing it for the parking lot.
She got the car unlocked and put Easy on the passenger seat, then slipped the takeout bag behind the seat and went around to the driver’s side. She slid behind the wheel and started the car.
With a not-so-subtle thrum, the engine came to life. She could see why he liked driving this machine. She grinned. “Nice.”
Easy, in his Yorkie form, was standing on the seat, staring at her. And if Yorkies could look cranky, he did.
“Sorry.” Now was probably not the time to be admiring his ride.
He woofed. Apology accepted, she assumed.
She looked him over. “I feel like you should be buckled in, but obviously there’s no way to do that. I’ll drive carefully, though. Not just because you’re unbuckled, but because this is your car, and I don’t want anything to happen to it or you.”
He turned three times, then sat down, making little grumpy dog sounds that were absolutely flipping adorable.
She was going to laugh. It was coming on like a sneeze and felt about as unavoidable. She looked away so he wouldn’t catch the amusement on her face. Biting her tongue helped quell the urge. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home. “It’s okay, you know. We’ll figure this out.”
No response.
She glanced over. He’d lain all the way down, facing the door. Maybe he was embarrassed. She understood he must be feeling awful, but it wasn’t like he’d had any control over what had happened.
She let him be, focusing on getting them home safely. He didn’t budge either, staying that way for the entire ride and getting up only when the car stopped. He stared outside for a second, then barked.
At her.
“Sorry, I don’t speak dog.” She opened the car door and got out, but before she could open his door, he jumped out after her, then ran straight up to his front door. She grabbed the desserts before following him.
He circled once in front of the door.
She fumbled for his house key. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to be alone like this. I mean, what if you have to go out?”
He growled softly.
She put the key in the lock and turned. “I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself, but you’re so…little.”
With a defeated whimper, he sat.
She pushed the door open, letting him go in first. She walked in behind him and went right to the kitchen. She put the bag of desserts in the fridge. “How about if I stay here with you?”
A little doggy sigh came out of him, then she swore he shrugged.
Poor guy. “Listen, if you really want to be alone, I’ll go. I just thought…” She exhaled and looked around. “Don’t do anything dumb. Like go out that big doggy door and fall into the pool and drown, okay?”
He glanced at her.
“I know you can swim. It’s just that the pool is so big, and you’re so little—”
Another soft snarl.
She didn’t know how to read his expression, but she understood snarling. She held her hands up in defeat. If he wanted to be alone, that was his prerogative. “Okay, going home. See you tomorrow, I guess. Or text me later if…whatever.” She turned toward the door.
He ran past her, yipping, and stood in front of the door.
“Are you saying you don’t want me to go?”
He yippe
d—one short, quick bark.
“Then I’ll stay.” She smiled. “We can eat the desserts. If you want. Or save them until you’re you again. Whatever.”
She went back into the living room and sat down on the couch, kicked her shoes off, and lay back. She glanced at the enormous television leaning against the far wall awaiting hookup. “Too bad that’s not working. We could watch a movie. I could hook it up. You’d be amazed how much you learn on your own in ten years.”
There wasn’t much else in the room. A coffee table, a recliner, and a floor lamp, also not plugged in. Plus a lot of boxes. A lot. “This place could use a woman’s touch. Just saying. An area rug and some throw pillows never killed anyone. A piece of art, maybe. A potted plant. You know, home it up a little.”
He jumped up onto the couch next to her feet, sighed, circled three times, and lay down by her calves.
She looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. He closed his eyes. Maybe intent on sleeping it off. Mercy, he was adorable. With nothing else to do, she got her phone out of her purse, pulled up her reading app, and opened the mystery novel she was halfway through.
A couple of chapters in, Easy let out a long sigh, rolling over on his side.
“I can make more room.” She turned onto her side a little, too.
He adjusted, moving a little closer to her knees.
She went back to reading, but woke up a few minutes later, having dozed off.
Easy was still a Yorkie, but he was now curled up against her stomach. And snoring slightly. She gently brushed her hand down the silky fur on his back, doing her best not to rouse him, but dying to touch him. He was still the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
There was no leaving now either. If she moved, she’d wake him. She read a little more, then finally gave in to the sleep tugging at her.
* * *
Easy woke up to darkness outside his windows and Ginny in his arms, the two of them sprawled in a tangle on his couch. She was asleep, head nestled against his chest.
At any other time in his life, he would have been thrilled.
As it was, he was mortified by what had just happened a few hours ago. A Yorkie. He’d turned into a frigging purse dog. Thank the powers of the universe that Ginny’s purse hadn’t been big enough for him to fit into, because if she’d done that to him…
He took a breath. He owed her. She’d gotten him out of that bathroom with no one being the wiser, at least not that he was aware of. She hadn’t freaked out about it either.
He squeezed his eyes shut in humiliation. If the alpha had found out, Easy might have been permanently blacklisted from the pack.
But then, Ginny’s curse had already done that to her. And if she wasn’t part of the pack, he didn’t want to be either. He opened his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. She’d rescued him. And hadn’t made him feel like a fool once.
He let the shame of the situation go long enough to appreciate the incredible woman in his arms. To feel the softness and warmth of her body against his. He would be honored to have a woman like this at his side.
But tonight had highlighted just how unsuitable a mate he was. No doubt she’d pitied him, she’d just been good at hiding it.
Or maybe she was willing to overlook it because she didn’t have any other options.
What was worse? Someone settling for you? Or someone pitying you?
He wasn’t sure. Both were awful. Either way, he couldn’t see a way forward for them romantically. As incredible as that would have been, she deserved better, and he didn’t want to be someone’s choice because he was her only choice.
That would end badly. There was just no other way for it to go.
He sighed, ruffling her hair. He glanced behind him to the microwave in the kitchen. Almost three in the morning. He was torn whether to wake her up so she could go home to her own bed, do nothing and continue enjoying the moment, or get up, let her sleep, and try to knock out a few pages.
Considering that he was never going to be this close to Ginny again, he decided on not moving. At least for a few minutes more. He wanted to soak up this feeling for future reference.
Truth was, she might be the last woman he held in his arms for a long time.
But he fell back to sleep, and when he woke the second time, it was because Ginny was moving.
“We fell asleep,” she whispered.
He smiled. “I know.”
She sighed a happy, sleepy little sigh. “No couch should be this comfortable.”
And no woman should feel this good in his arms. Especially not a woman he couldn’t have. He eased his arms out of the embrace, rolled to his side, and stood. “Hungry?”
He could at least make her breakfast. That would give them a chance to talk, and for him to give her the friends-only explanation.
She stretched and sat up. “I could eat. But all I really want to do is go home and change into something comfortable. These jeans weren’t really made for sleeping.” She smiled at him. “Nice to see you again.”
“Yeah, when the change is forced on me like that, I can’t just shift right back out of it. Thanks for being so understanding. And for getting me out of there.”
“It wasn’t a problem. I had a great time last night, regardless of how it ended.”
His mood crashed. “About last night.” He gathered his words. “I don’t want to talk about it except to say it proves my point. I’m not dating or mating material. I like you, Ginny. But I’m not in a position to like any woman as more than friends.”
She stared at him like she wasn’t quite understanding what he was saying. “Wow. That’s not where I thought that was going at all.” She stood up. “Do you really think I’d hold it against you that you can’t control what you shift into? I don’t know who you’ve dated in the past, but I’m not looking to find my mate anytime soon. I realize a lot of female wolves are built that way, but I have a curse to deal with that kind of puts that on the back burner.”
“But how could you look for a mate when you haven’t had the opportunity? How could anyone find you when no one remembers you?”
“True, but…” The light of realization shone in her eyes. “You think I’m interested in you just because you’re the first guy who remembers me? I mean, sure that’s part of it, because I can actually have a conversation with you that doesn’t involve introducing myself over and over and over, but wow.”
This wasn’t going the way he’d expected it to. “No, look, I just think I need to be up front with you. I know what matters to pack females. Even if you say it doesn’t matter to you, it will eventually. And I’m not that guy. I just don’t want you to pin your hopes on me and then—”
Anger glazed her expression as she held up her hand. “I’m not a pack female, in case you forgot. I’ll never be a pack female, at least not until my curse is resolved. Which might not be ever. And how about a little credit for the fact that I saved your Yorkie bacon last night, huh? A pack female probably would have left you there.”
She wasn’t wrong. “Ginny, I didn’t mean—”
“Nope, I got your meaning loud and clear.” She grabbed her purse, dug into it, then tossed his wallet and phone onto the coffee table and stormed toward the door. “You know, for a writer, you suck at words.”
“Ginny, wait.”
She opened the door, finally looking at him again. “You’re welcome for last night’s dinner, too, by the way. There’s a doggie bag in the fridge with the desserts we never got to. Hope you enjoy them.”
Then she strode through the door, shutting it firmly behind her.
He groaned, cursing the lightning that had struck him and screwed up his life. But this wasn’t the lightning’s fault. This was his.
He figured she was going to need a little time to cool off. That was good. Because he wasn’t sure how much groveling it would take to get Ginny to forgive him, but he guessed he was about to find out.
Chapter Thirteen
Within ten minut
es of walking into her house, Ginny had ditched her heels, shucked her jeans and top in exchange for yoga pants and a T-shirt, then scrubbed off her remaining makeup and knotted her hair into a messy bun atop her head.
She’d also started a load of laundry and fixed herself a giant cup of coffee. Somehow, both of those made her feel a tiny bit better.
Now she stood in front of her aquarium, getting ready to feed her fish. She set her coffee down and lifted the hood lid. The goldfish hovered near the surface, mouths gaping. She picked up the canister of food. “You have no idea how hard life is for humans. You guys are living the dream. You really are.”
She sprinkled flakes in, watching Bob, Comet, and Sparky go crazy.
She sighed and put the lid back on the food canister, then closed the hood on the fish tank. Her stomach growled. She needed to eat something, too, but she didn’t have much appetite. Unless it was for that sticky toffee pudding she’d left at Easy’s.
That wasn’t truthfully what she wanted, though. She glanced toward the side of her house that butted up against Easy’s property. She wanted him. The man she’d had dinner with last night, not the one she’d woken up next to this morning.
Not the one who thought he knew what was best for her. Typical, egotistical male wolf. Except, he wasn’t really like that.
And having his arms around her had been heaven. But that was before he’d woken up with all those dumb ideas about what would work and what wouldn’t.
She was mad at him for letting his weird shift affect him so deeply. But she was also mad at herself for not being more compassionate.
Clearly, turning into a Yorkie had taken a real mental toll on him. Male werewolves had a lot of testosterone, and giant egos to match, which was why most of them grew up thinking they were going to be alpha one day. Even if that wasn’t the case for ninety-nine percent of them. They were just built with that kind of drive and confidence.
Easy must have realized after last night’s crazy shift that he was never going to be alpha. Not until his situation got resolved, and what hope did he have of that happening? Probably not much when he saw Ginny working on a decade of being cursed, with no relief in sight.
The Forgettable Miss French (Shadowvale Book 3) Page 9