She grew thoughtful and Tina had to make a conscious effort to not squirm in her seat.
“You know, being a protector’s mate is considered to be great honor in the paranormal community. To know that you will be providing the next generation of protectors, that is a great honor indeed. One could even call it one’s solemn duty.”
Tina huffed at that.
“Fine, let someone else fulfil that damn duty. I don’t want my kids running about the countryside killing things. They could get hurt. Damn it, Ronan got hurt. If you’d seen him when I found him this morning, he was….What?”
Mrs. Hastings had a rather suspicious-looking grin on her face.
“Why are you looking at me like that? What?”
“I’m only smiling because we’re finally coming to the crux of the matter. You don’t really object to him killing those things, vampire and others out there who wish to harm us. You object to the thought of him getting hurt, killed maybe. You don’t want to invest your heart and your life in a man who could be snatched away from you in an instant, right?”
For the second time that evening Tina was lost for words. Trust Mrs. Hastings to sum it all up so succinctly.
“Let me ask you this, though, my sweet child, and then we really need to go to bed. It’s getting ever so late and we both have a busy day tomorrow. Can you really live without him? Surely even short-lived happiness is better than a life full of misery. Many protectors die of old age, child. Think on that.”
With that, Mrs. Hastings got up and left Tina to her thoughts.
Chapter Ten
The next day started with inevitable sheep baas drifting in through her open windows, and Tina groaned and stumbled out of bed. Thanks to Mrs. Hasting’s tea she had at least slept. No dreams had disturbed her, and for that she was grateful. Unbidden, her thoughts turned to Ronan. He had been so pissed off last night, and Tina had the good grace to admit it to herself at least, that she was to blame for that. She could only hope he stayed safe on his patrols and hadn’t done anything stupid in his anger.
In the bright light of day she wasn’t proud of how she had reacted. At the time she had reacted purely on instinct, too overwhelmed by everything he was telling her to see past the fact that he had blood on his hands, that he was in a job that put him in danger on a daily basis.
Mrs. Hastings’s words haunted her this morning. Could she simply walk away from him? It would mean leaving the village she had grown to love and all the people in it. There was no way she could stay here and see Ronan out and about every day, and not act on her feelings. Her letterbox banged and the post dropped on the floor, and Tina ran to her window to see Paul the ever friendly postie making his way round to Mrs. Hastings. He was earlier than usual, presumably because of the fete. Or was he out at the crack of dawn, because it was now safe to do so? And was he really a duck?
Tina surmised he might well be. He was short, and rotund, and one could say he waddled somewhat. She giggled at that, as she went through all the locals in her mind, trying to match them up with their possible counterparts. If it was even possible to ascertain that from looking at their human selves.
Tina’s head started to hurt with those ridiculous permutations, and she jumped in the shower instead. Her morning ablutions taken care of, Tina chose a light strappy summer dress to wear, because the weather promised to be scorching. Another thing she was glad about. It would have been awful had the long awaited village fete been a wash out. Hair twisted on top of her head to keep it out of her way, a touch of lip gloss, makeup to cover that hickey, and another check that the inbuilt bra held in her boobs later, and Tina was as ready to face the world as she ever would be.
The delicious smells of home cooking greeted her when she stepped into Mrs. Hastings’s cottage.
“Morning, my dear, I hope you slept well? Don that apron on the hook by the door and get stuck in. Those cupcakes are ready to go in their boxes. Nice dress by the way. Is it new?”
Mrs. Hastings briefly looked up, her lined face flushed from the heat of the kitchen and elbows deep in kneading dough. Cakes were cooling on every available surface of the kitchen and Tina whistled through her teeth, as she pulled the apron over her head.
“Goodness me, are you expecting to feed the five thousand, Mrs. Hastings? How long have you been at this?” she asked.
“It’s nothing, dear, and we’re selling those cakes for charity, so the more the better I say. I don’t need much sleep these days. Besides, I expect there to be a huge turnout. We have much to celebrate, after all. Ronan’s accomplishment in ridding us of those creatures will be public knowledge by now, and while the humans won’t know about this, the paranormal community will. I expect he’ll be swamped today. No need to make that face, my dear. Like I said, you’ll be lucky to get five minutes alone with him at the fete, but in that dress…” She laughed, and Tina’s cheeks turned crimson. “Well, I reckon he’ll notice you all right. “
Tina chose not to answer that. She busied herself with boxing cupcakes instead, and a comfortable silence fell between the two women as they worked.
Two hours of hard work later, the last cake was boxed and all that remained was the bread in the oven.
Tina sat down with a thump, and inhaled the cup of coffee Mrs. Hastings passed her.
“How are we going to get all stuff across to the green?” she asked.
Mrs. Hastings smiled, and checked the watch pinned to her bosom. Another curiosity about her. It reminded Tina of regency school mistresses and she hid her amusement behind her coffee cup.
A van rumbled into their joined driveway, and the burly local pub owner emerged.
“That’s how,” Mrs. Hastings said. “And before you ask, he shifts into an ox.”
Tina’s eyes widened at that revelation, but come to think of it, she should have guessed that. John was the typical bull in a china shop. Liked by everyone, despite his tendency for clumsiness.
“Erm, do you really think he’s the best one to handle your delicate cupcakes, Mrs. Hastings?” Tina had to ask.
“Oh, he won’t be handling them, my dear. You and I are packing them into the van. John is simply our means of transportation and he will have set up our stall.”
The front door banged and Tina felt the vibrations of John’s heavy footsteps through her sandals.
“Top of the morning to you, Mrs. Hastings. Miss Tina.” He took of his cap, and smiled at her, his broad frame filling the door way to Mrs. Hastings’s kitchen and Tina smiled back at him.
“Let’s be having them cakes then, Mrs. Hastings.”
“No, I wouldn’t dream of it, son. What with you having been hard at work, already setting up. No, you sit there, have a slice of my homemade bread and jam, and here’s a coffee.” She set a steaming, heavy duty mug of black coffee in front of him, followed by several chunks of warm bread, and an assortment of her jams. “Tina and I will manage the cakes. I would be grateful if you could manage the crates of jam though. They’re by the front door.”
John Oxen, now here was a surname to fit him, grinned from ear to ear, and plonked his frame down on the kitchen chair. It creaked under his weight, and Tina held her breath, half expecting the chair to collapse under him. Where Ronan’s bulk was all hard muscle, this shifter’s brawn was mainly made out of fat.
“Sure thing, Mrs. Hastings. Mighty nice of you to look after us so.”
Tina barely suppressed her grin at the conspiratorial wink Mrs. Hastings gave her.
* * * *
Several hours later, Tina’s feet hurt and her jaw ached from smiling so much. As predicted the fete was a huge success. Locals, tourists, and neighboring villages alike had descended upon the village on mass to join in the celebrations. The sun was a steady glowing orb of brilliance high in a cloudless sky, and Tina breathed a sigh of relief at being in the shade of her stall. Despite the cover, perspiration pooled between her breasts and ran down her shoulder blades. Just as well, she hadn’t given in to the instinct to cover Ron
an’s mark on her neck with a scarf. She had used make up instead, but even so, folks had looked at her funny, and she hadn’t missed the few surreptitious sniffs in her direction.
That was one way of determining who the shifters were, at least.
“His scent is all over you, my dear. Don’t worry no human can detect it, but for the rest of us, yeah, it’s kinda like a big red flag to say, hands off.”
Mrs. Hastings had laughed at Tina’s expression.
“Close your mouth, dear, and don’t worry. Everyone is more than happy with his choice. You’ve been one of us for a long time now. This is simply the icing on the cake.”
That was all well and good, but where did that leave Tina. She had thought it wisest to keep her mouth shut and carry on serving.
Mrs. Hastings’s cakes and jam were flying off the shelves, so to speak, and Tina had no more time to worry about her predicament, other than to try and not look in Ronan’s direction whenever she got a few seconds to herself.
An almighty cheer had gone up when he’d roared into the village on his Harley, and as predicted he had been instantly swamped by well-wishers. Her entire being had drawn tight, when he’d looked across at her, and his eyes had flashed to his bear’s briefly. If you blinked, you’d have missed it, but Tina’s body had responded to the heat in his gaze instantly. Her knickers had long since given up the fight to hold in her wetness, and Tina tried not to think too much on the fact that every damn shifter around her, would know how turned on she was at this moment.
If Ronan walked up to her now and touched her, she’d reckon she’d jump him right here audience or not.
Perhaps it was best that Ronan chose to keep his distance from her. Right now he was entertaining the local kids by offering horsy rides and the delighted giggles of a bunch of small people carried across in the breeze. It did nothing to calm Tina’s raging libido, or stop her racing heartbeat. He would make such a good father.
She dragged her gaze away from Ronan, as another scent invaded her nostrils. Sweaty male mixed in with tons of sickly aftershave, and bile rose in her throat when Mitchell the mechanic, strutted toward her stall. Trust him to pick a moment when Tina was on her own. He’d already purchased some cakes earlier, and the way he’d held onto her hand for far longer than necessary when she’d given him his change had not been missed by Mrs. Hastings.
“Move along, Mitch, you’re holding up the queue.”
However there was no Mrs. Hastings now to act as a buffer, and Tina sighed and stepped back from the counter to put more distance between her and the obnoxious man. Judging by his dilated pupils he had been drinking, and she groaned. Great, just fucking great.
Mitchell Bogsun leaned across the counter and didn’t even try to hide the way he was staring down her cleavage. It made Tina feel dirty and naked at the same time. Her skin crawled in disgust when he smiled. Mitchell would be classed handsome by most. At just over six foot and with muscles honed by years of working on the local farmer’s tractors, he certainly had a lot going for him, if you disregarded his complete chauvinistic attitude, and lame come on lines. The sickening cloud of his aftershave seemed to swallow Tina whole, and the beginning of a headache pounded across her temples.
“Finally, I get you alone. I thought the witch would never leave.”
Tina swallowed to moisten her dry throat and stepped further back until the stacked crates behind her stopped her escape. With an evil grin on his face, Mitch opened the hatch and simply stepped through, right into her personal space.
“Do you quite mind, Mr. Bogsun. You are not allowed back here, and I—”
“Oh come on, sweetling. Don’t act shy. Not around me. No one can see us right now, Tina.”
To her utter horror, Tina realized he was right. By stepping back as far as she had, she had not only placed herself in a dead end, but the crates one side and the canopy the other side obscured her from view completely.
Damn it!
“That’s as maybe, Bogsun, but if you want any chance of saving your balls I’d suggest you step away now.”
Instead of retreating, he crowded her further against the crates, and blocked her raised knee with surprising strength.
“Oh, I do like it when you bitches put up a bit of a fight. All this time you acted all Miss prim and proper, and today you turn up with that hickey on your neck. Given to you by that Ronan, no doubt.”
He grinned at her sharp intake of breath and her head swam as she got a mouthful of his aftershave. It left a foul taste in her mouth, and she coughed.
“What the fuck has he got that I haven’t, huh? All the birds flock around him. It makes me sick.”
“At least he doesn’t have to resort to knocking women out with his aftershave,” Tina said, all too aware of the wheeze in her voice. “What did you do, bathe in the stuff? Here’s a tip for you. Less is more. Now let me the fuck go.”
Before Mitchell could respond the crates gave way behind her with an almighty animalistic roar, and Tina would have fallen over had Ronan not picked her up. Crates went flying, and Bogsun took a dive face first into the grass. He swore and scrambled to his feet, fists up in the air, his face contorted into an ugly sneer.
“You fucker will pay for that. I was having a private conservation with Tina here.”
Ronan put her down and placed her behind him, after inhaling deeply against her neck. The action sent the most delicious shivers across her body, and she sat down heavily on one of the upturned crates. Yes, one sniff and she was toast, her legs too jelly like to support her. She knew she should stop this. Already a small crowd was forming to watch, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight of the muscles bunching under Ronan’s sheer shirt, as he pulled his hands into fists.
“Really, last time I checked, when a woman says no, it means you leave her be, not force your attention where it’s not wanted.” Ronan’s voice deepened with the growl of his bear, and some of the cockiness left the other man’s expression. Still, he kept his fists up and the two men slowly circled each other.
“Especially when that woman is mine.”
Tina’s pussy practically did the Samba at the way he said mine, and when he glanced her way briefly, the emotional intensity in his gaze took her breath away.
“Really, is she now?” Mitchell laughed. “She’s been giving me the come on signal all day. Hardly the action of a taken woman, is it? You best keep her on a tighter leash, you…umph.”
The rest of whatever hateful thing he was going to say was lost in the punch Ronan delivered to the guy’s chin. Blood splattered into the grass, as Mitchell’s teeth went through his lip, and he staggered backward. Ronan advanced again until Mrs. Hastings shrill voice stopped him.
“Ronan Bernhard, stop this right now. Think of the children.”
She placed herself between the two men. A pint-sized obstacle who swung her walking stick with deadly precision. First Ronan got stabbed in the belly, and Mitchell received a swat across his ass, that made him yelp.
“Now, what would be the cause of all this commotion? And who made this mess out of my stall?” She faced Ronan and Tina couldn’t help but grin when the formidable bear shifter took a step back, and looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“It was him.” Mitchell pointed a finger toward Ronan, and Mrs. Hastings’s eyes narrowed. She looked from Ronan to Tina and Mitchell and back again, and Tina’s eyes widened when Mrs. Hastings winked at her. She was clearly up to something, and her next words confirmed it.
“I see. I might have known you couldn’t stay away from her, Ronan. Do you really think this macho attitude is helping?”
Ronan growled, and Mrs. Hastings drew herself up to her full height of five foot two and a bit and stared up at him.
“Do you expect me to stand by and watch when that weasel had his hands all over what’s mine?” he asked.
Mrs. Hastings smiled and ignored Mitchell’s spluttered outrage.
“Oh do shut up Mitchell Bogsun and go away and quack lik
e a duck. I know full well what your part in this would have been. I warned you before about your attitude to women.”
“I’m not…quack.” Mitchell frowned and tried again. “I’m… quack…what the…quack, quack, quack.”
Tina covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud, but Mitchell’s expression was too comical. He turned bright red and scurried off. With every breath he took another quack escaped.
“That should stop him from making a nuisance of himself for a while. Oh, don’t worry, he’ll wake up in the morning, with an almighty headache, and wonder if he’s dreamt the whole thing.” She dusted her hands off and winked at Tina again. “Now, as for you Ronan Bernhard,” she focused her attention on him, and Ronan took another step back and two hands up in surrender.
“Now, Mrs. H,” he said and she grinned.
“What would be a suitable punishment for this overbearing man, do you think, Tina. How dare he assume you’re his, huh?”
Tina squirmed on her crate, and she daren’t look over to Ronan. You didn’t have to be a shifter to tell how tense he had grown. She could practically feel the force of his emotions battering her soul.
“I…er…well.” Tina stalled for time and Mrs. Hastings laughed.
“Shall I make him neigh like a horse…shrivel up his pride and joy…make him—”
“No!” Tina shot to her feet, and Mrs. Hastings’s smile deepened.
“No?” she asked and adopted the most innocent expression. “Come on, Tina. I’ve got to do something. We can’t let him get away with this assumption, unless of course it’s true?”
Ronan’s warning growl shook the floor and Tina had to look over and see his expression.
“Well, Tina, what is it. Are you his or not?” Mrs. Hastings asked.
It was now or never, clearly, and Tina was all too aware of the protective circle of shifters which had formed around them. It meant the humans wouldn’t have a clue what was going on. It also brought home the fact how much she belonged here. This was her home, and she was no more ready to leave this place, than she was to face a life without Ronan.
Her Bear Protector [The Protectors 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 9