Dragons For Hire: A Dragon Shifter Romance

by Sadie Sears

“Yeah, I just took them out. Come on.” Zoe tugged my wrist and headed toward the door.

  The familiar scents of lemongrass and sage eased my tension, and when Zoe ran a soft mallet around the edges of a large, rose-colored crystal singing bowl, filling the vestibule with beautiful music, my whole body relaxed. Very Zen.

  Statues in all styles and sizes of Buddha and Hindu gods lined the wall leading toward the double doors of the sitting room. A pile of fresh maple firewood spilled out of the holder onto the hardwood floor in the corner. Hundreds of books on massage, yoga, and alternative healing filled the built-in shelves opposite the fireplace. The armchair in front of the fire called to me, but Lila wasn’t sitting there, although two steaming mugs of tea waited for us.

  I peered at Zoe. “Where is she?”

  “Probably in the sewing room. She’s trying to finish my costume.” Zoe frowned and bit her lip, a telltale sign she wasn’t happy. But because she was more like me than was good for her, she’d refuse to share the issue.

  I nodded and then went to find Lila. Sunlight burst through the window of the old dining room, her yoga studio now. I glanced inside, but it was empty. I could see why she picked this room for her part-time business. It had large window seats in front of tall windows, which let in so much natural light and was supposed to be good for mind and body and soul. Even Western medicine agreed, and since most of Lila's clients had disabilities, she used every advantage the house provided to make it a soothing kind of place.

  Her best friend and neighbor, Sophie, helped. We’d all grown up together, and Sophie trained Lila in massage therapy so she could add that to her list of services.

  “Hey, you.”

  I turned. She had the gait of a cat—quiet unless she had her cane, which clicked against the hardwood. She stood with an armful of material and a sewing kit. "This thing is going to be the death of me."

  “Here. Let me help.” I scooped the big box full of all her sewing bits and pieces out of her hands, which she allowed without protest. Probably because the box weighed nearly as much as I did.

  She smiled and held up a swirled and beaded piece of fabric. “I figured I’d bribe you with some chamomile tea by the fireplace if you sewed the appliques on for me,” she said.

  "Deal." I'd learned to read between the lines with Lila. What she meant was that although her flareup was almost over, she probably still had numbness in her hands and needed help but didn't want to use the illness as an excuse. Not asking for help was as much a family trait as brown hair.

  We settled in front of the fireplace, me with the sewing, her with her legs tucked under her, and I decided to casually bring up the situation with Bill. In a roundabout way.

  “I’m going on a date tonight.” I continued sewing the sequin strawberry on Zoe’s costume. No need to make a big deal. It was just a date. With a guy. Who looked like Samuel O’Lachlan.

  “You are magic. Figured out how to put a spell on Bill, did you? Something to make him less of a cheapskate?” She glanced at me and smiled like her love life was all wrapped in the arms of some guy wearing a bow.

  “Ha-ha. And for your information, smarty, it’s not with Bill.” I almost grinned at her wide eyes and open mouth. “I broke up with him.”

  “How is that not the headline? The first phone call of the day? The skywriting up the mountain?” Lila sat straighter. “Tell me.”

  "It's no big deal."

  But of course it was. She’d always hated Bill.

  “Gretta!”

  I laughed. “Okay, fine.” I told her about the text from Naked Maureen and the way he’d demanded I let him keep his stuff at my place, the mass of text messages on my phone from him. And then I mentioned Sam. How Justin had hired him to play my boyfriend until Bill gave up and went away. “So, we’re planning on letting Bill see us together at Sprucie’s. I think he’ll get his stuff out if he believes I’m serious about breaking up with him. You know, he’ll think I’ve moved on, and he’ll move on, too.”

  “You should just dump it in the street.” Zoe popped a piece of gum in her mouth and shrugged.

  “From the mouth of babes, but she has a point.” Lila sipped her tea and locked eyes with Zoe before they both giggled. “You aren’t responsible for his junk. And that God-awful TV has got to go.”

  How well I knew. A sixty-inch TV was way too big for my place. “I can’t do that. If it got stolen or trashed...” Bill would go full-on deranged over his television. I stopped sewing and allowed the costume to fall into my lap. “I thought about renting a storage unit, but then it would be in my name, and he’d probably have me arrested for theft. And the chances of getting a research position from a jail cell aren’t particularly good.”

  “But a fake boyfriend? Come on. Even Bill is smart enough to figure out you’re strangers playing pretend.” Lila pressed her fingertips into my arm, but I wasn’t in the mood to be placated.

  I smiled. So, it wasn’t the best idea, but it was what we had. “This could be my Meryl Streep moment.” My defenses went up at her eye roll, and I sighed. “I don’t like the idea either, but what can I do? Sam seems to be the lesser of two evils.”

  Lila peered at me with narrowed eyes. “Sam? Tell me more.”

  "I've only met him once. He's cute if you go for the muscle-bound blond beach boy type." Apparently, I did, ‘cause he was way hot. "But he's intense. He stared at me."

  "If he makes you uncomfortable, Gretta—" She tilted her head and mimicked Mom's concerned sigh so well I did a double-take.

  I couldn’t describe how he made me feel. “It wasn’t uncomfortable. He was okay, I just prefer nicer guys.” And now I was spewing nonsense.

  “Nicer guys like Bill?”

  “Don’t be facetious when I’ve just finished our sewing project.” I stood and pressed the costume into Zoe’s hands. “Go try it on. See if it fits.”

  “Thanks.” Zoe planted a quick kiss on my cheek and ran off to her room.

  Lila took another sip of her tea. “You’d better get going if you’re meeting him tonight.”

  I glanced at my watch. “I’ll fold your laundry before I go.”

  “You don’t—”

  I grabbed the basket of clothes next to my chair.

  Lila smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Sis.”

  As I folded the last of Zoe’s gym gear and added them to her pile, Lila stood behind me and scooped my hair off my face, twisting it into a loose chignon. She pulled pins from her own hair to use in mine. This was the mark of a good sister. When she finished, I went to inspect the hairstyle in the asymmetrical mirror by the door. Why couldn’t I get my hair to behave like this? Ugh. I snagged my purse from the foyer and dug some lipstick out. Deep mauve said sexy, right?

  She met me at the steps. “One last thing.”

  I took the stairs two at a time to Lila’s bedroom. She kept her medication organizer in her drawer, and I wanted to fill it before I left. Her hands hurt or she wouldn’t have asked me to sew the costume for her, and the painful struggle with child-proof pill bottles had brought her to tears more than once.

  Lila was my world, and my first priority, and if I was a few minutes late, so be it. The only reason I was going out with Sam was to get Bill off my back, not because I needed another someone in my life to remind me I didn’t quite measure up. This “relationship” was purposeful. To convince Bill to go away quietly. To not do something that would embarrass me in front of his dad.

  I wanted this research position. Needed it. Nothing mattered more in life than saving Lila. I couldn’t shield her or take her pain, but I could use my skill and training to help find a cure. This research could do it.

  I parked my car then switched my no-nonsense flats for a pair of low-heeled pumps before heading into Sprucie’s. It had been a while since I went out for the sake of going out, and my hands shook as I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse, but what the hell. I undid a second pearl button then fished my black-rimmed glasses from my bag.

  Sam met
me at the door like he’d waited outside for me to show up. And he looked better than I remembered. Bigger even. His crisp white T-shirt stretched over a pair of well-defined pectoral muscles, and his tight jeans made his legs look longer, thicker. Incredible. But the motorcycle jacket gave him an edge, something to scare Bill enough to stop his hateful texts and keep him away from me. Sam laced our hands together and helped me up the two steps. Guys with manners who smelled so good weren’t just falling out of the sky in front of me. But here was Sam. And if I took a few extra covert inhales, I’d earned them after months with Bill.

  "You smell great." Oh, dear. I blurted those words as if I'd never been on a date with a guy who knew the benefits of cologne. "It kind of reminds me of my sister's place—well, like one of her incense sticks." I was prattling, but it was hard not to with Sam gazing into my eyes and wearing a slightly bemused smile.

  “It’s cedar and frankincense. I buy it through the mail, but if your sister knows somewhere local, that would be great.” He leaned in close and whispered against my skin. “You smell pretty great, too.” When he pulled back, his skin was a light shade of pink and a moment of uncomfortable and awkward silence ensued.

  Last time I saw him, his hair was artfully disheveled, but today it was combed. Still artful, but neat. And his clothes were without a single wrinkle. It was obvious he'd made an effort, but I doubted it was for me because all this was to him was a job. A charade. A paycheck. I snapped my lips shut. No way was I telling him how nice he looked. I'd already complimented his cologne. That was enough for a fake date. Instead, I glanced around the room.

  “There he is.” I flicked my head toward Bill at the end of the bar and looped my arm through Sam’s, but he stiffened, cringed, like my touch repulsed him.

  Seriously? I’m so ordinary that he can’t stand having me touch him. No way were we going to be able to sell this.

  I needed him to play along, make this look real, not like I was holding him at gunpoint. "Listen, let me do all the talking, okay? And he can be overly abrasive. Don't let him rile you. Come on." I guided Sam toward Bill, who stood alone at the bar. It seemed his clients had gone to play a game of darts. "Bump me into him," I whispered.

  Sam complied and nudged me into Bill’s barstool, and I pretended I hadn’t seen him.

  "Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry." I looked up and widened my eyes dramatically. "Oh, God, Bill. I am—oh, this is awkward." I moved closer to Sam and laid my hand on the center of his chest, so I was fully pressed into his side. "Um, Bill, this is Sam."

  If he didn’t believe it was a coincidence, he would certainly believe we were uncomfortable. There was no hiding it.

  Bill’s gaze swept up Sam’s body to his face. If he was intimidated, he didn’t show it. “What are you supposed to be? Bodyguard or gigolo?”

  “Boyfriend.” Sam wrapped his arm over my shoulder, releasing a fresh trace of his scent. I closed my eyes and reveled in his warmth, but Bill’s well-timed cackle reminded me this was all playacting.

  “You’re so pathetic you went out and hired the first thug you met to pretend to be dating you?” He smacked a hand into Sam’s leather jacket. “What’s she paying you? I hope it’s good money.”

  “Bill, please. Don’t make this awkward. I’m actually glad I ran into you, so you didn’t hear it through the grapevine.” I’d poked the bull enough.

  Bill sneered. “Hear you hired someone to be your boyfriend? Come on, Gretty, we both know there’s no way you landed this guy on your own in the one day I’ve been gone.”

  My head ached something fierce. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  The point to this exercise was to show Bill I had someone new, not to give him a reason to up his efforts or go to his dad, so my tone might've crossed into dangerous territory, but I didn't want him spewing this drivel in front of Sam. Not that I cared if Sam believed him. Much.

  He looked me up and down and back again. “I think we both know what it means. Don’t make me say it, Gretty.” Like he was trying to spare my feelings.

  My nostrils flared as I planted my hands on my hips, ready to tear into Bill, but Sam gave my waist a gentle squeeze and some of the anger faded. I looked up at him, into his eyes, smiling. I had to sell the story. Make Bill believe I was drawn to Sam.

  “Sam and I dated for years before his deployment. He couldn’t stand the thought of me all alone waiting by the phone for his call, and I didn’t want him to be worried about anything but the job he had to do. I wanted him to come home safe. So, we broke up.” I smiled softly at Sam then turned to Bill. “But now he’s back, and I ran into him after you and I broke up, and he asked me out.”

  I turned my gaze, my smile, my Academy-award performance back to Sam, and curled my fingers into the fabric over his heart. I could've sworn it picked up a couple of beats per minute, but Sam's muscles were as rigid as his expression.

  “He’s hardly your type. And you’re not fooling anyone, Gretty. You can cut the act and stop embarrassing yourself.”

  A quiet growl rumbled in Sam’s chest, and I could feel his anger. Bill brought that kind of thing out in people. Or it could’ve been me. Bill might not have said it nicely, but he was right. No way could someone like me land a guy like Sam without paying for him. And being in public with me was probably cramping Sam’s style. That might explain why he was so stiff. But nothing about knowing it made me feel any more confident in the plan.

  I turned back to Bill. "Look, Sam's going to be moving in this week, so I need you to come and get your stuff as soon as possible." I didn't dare look at Sam because we hadn't discussed exactly what I would be telling Bill, but I doubted he expected this. I certainly hadn't. Still, I was prepared to do whatever it took. Even if it meant I had to let Sam literally move in.

  “You’re whacked.” He narrowed his eyes. “I am going to tell everyone how desperate you are to get my attention again.” Bill moved so we were almost nose to nose.

  What the hell had I ever seen in this guy?

  Sam shoved his way between us. His voice was low, deadly, more on the scary side than I was used to. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Sam took a step forward, backing Bill against the bar. “No one talks to my girlfriend like that.”

  Before I could process my way through the word “girlfriend”, Sam twisted Bill’s shirt in his right hand and drew his fist back. We’d drawn a small crowd, and the last thing I wanted was a commotion.

  An inferno raged behind Sam’s amber eyes. They flashed orange, and I stared. Must’ve been some weird reflection off a bottle of whiskey maybe. Not that I had much time to consider since Sam was about to pummel Bill in front of about fifty witnesses.

  “Stop it.” I jerked his arm, failing to move him thanks to all his well-packed muscles. I hissed my next words so Bill couldn’t catch them, but Sam heard. “I didn’t hire you to be a thug.”

  He cocked his head and gave me a sideways glance. A shadow passed over his face and guilt curled through me. Even though this was all in my defense, I couldn’t let him make hamburger out of Bill’s face. “Please.”

  Sam clenched his jaw, then turned back to Bill, lowered the hand holding Bill’s shirt, even smoothed the wrinkles he’d put in. “Get your shit out of her house.” He took a step back. “Or I’ll do it for you.” His tone wasn’t just assertive. It was menacing.

  As a rule, early Neanderthal didn’t turn my head. I preferred men with sense and sensibilities, but Sam’s show of strength, his ferocity, the command he took was damn hot. Made me hot. Prickles of energy crawled up my chest and over my face in the form of a sheen of sweat. It wasn’t hard to imagine Sam in the military, shouting orders and expecting them to be followed without question. I took a second to imagine him in his fatigues. Sexy. Powerful. I sighed, and Sam and Bill both looked at me. Oh, shit.

  I cleared my throat, naughty Sam-thoughts tied in a box for later. “You heard him, Bill. Get your stuff out of my place.”

  Before I could ma
ke this any worse, I tugged Sam away from the bar and led him outside. I hadn’t wanted him to pound on Bill. We’d even discussed it. Of course, most of it was Bill’s own fault. He’d never really known when to shut his big mouth. The very thing that made him a good lawyer made him horrible as a boyfriend.

  Sam turned to me as soon as we were on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry, Gretta. I don’t know what came over me.” His voice was a caress, and I wanted to lean in, but my pager went off.

  I silently cursed. “Look, it’s fine. It happened. It was a scene I’m sure will make the rounds by morning.” And my boss would hear. Nothing I could do about it now. “Hopefully, it was worth it, and Bill comes for his stuff, and we never have to do anything like that again. Now, I’ve got to go. Work.”

  “Gretta, honestly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I know. It’ll be okay.” I probably should’ve been thanking him, but I worked at a hospital and saw too much violence to think it was okay in any form. I sighed. “I’ll be fine but promise me you’ll let it go for tonight.” I set a glare on him. “Don’t make it worse.”

  Red-cheeked, Sam dropped his gaze before nodding. He was trying to help me, and I appreciated it, but I should have known not to rely on anyone. Especially someone I didn’t know. That could’ve gotten a lot worse. Sam’s temper might become a problem.

  When I arrived at the hospital, it was controlled chaos. A male child approximately ten years old lay unresponsive in the emergency room cubicle. Justin worked quickly, hooking the kid up to machines to monitor everything from his breathing to the blood flow to his limbs. I checked his pupils before scanning the blood pressure and pulse machine to check his vitals.

  I turned to the crying woman struggling to get to her son. “What happened?”

  She spoke, but her voice was thick and broken by sobs. I couldn’t understand a word and she pushed forward, jolting the bed. If she couldn’t help, she had to go. “Get her out of here. She’s in the way.”

  She blinked at me then sniffled and calmed as one of the nurses moved her toward the door. “He collapsed in the backyard.”