by V. Vaughn
I get in my car and mumble a silent prayer it will start when the engine struggles to turn over. I know my battery is nearly dead, but I need one more week of tips before I can afford a new one. I park out in front of the small bungalow I rent from Maria, a sweet, older woman and hawk shifter. She’s been my savior. When I first discovered I was pregnant, I tried to hide it from everyone at work. But Maria walked into the restroom at the diner and caught me losing my breakfast one morning. She figured out why, and when I broke down crying about my situation, she took me under her wing. Her two adult children live far away, and she doesn’t get to see her grandkids as often as she’d like, so she mothers Daniel and me instead.
She looks after my son when I’m working a shift at the diner and can’t pick him up after school. I knock once, then open the door to go in.
“Hello? I’m here.” I toe off my shoes and go into the living room where Daniel has his toy trucks rumbling over the hardwood floor. The dump truck is currently driving a load of Legos over to the other side of the room. My heart swells instantly. Like it always does whenever I see him.
One of my fears rushes to the surface as tears fill my eyes. One reason I’ve been afraid to tell Griffin about Daniel is that I’m afraid he’ll want to take him from me. It’s no secret I have little money left over for extras. Griffin can afford so much more than I can provide for Daniel. The Griffin I loved in high school wasn’t that kind of guy, but the version I saw in Vegas? Well, there’s no way I can be sure.
I suppose now it doesn’t matter. I have to tell Griffin he’s a father, and I’ll find out soon enough if he’s the kind of man who’ll take a boy from his mother.
“Hey, sweetie,” I say to Daniel as I sit on the floor beside him.
“Hi, Mommy.” He looks up and smiles and lets me kiss him before he goes back to his game of make believe.
Maria comes out of kitchen. The apron she has on is flecked with flour and brown sugar. She must’ve been baking cookies again. As I stand up, she smiles at me. “How was work?”
“It was… um, good. Busy.” I don’t want to tell her about Griffin being in town. She has eyes like, well, a hawk, and she’ll know something’s up no matter what I say about him.
“Not too busy, I hope. You weren’t run off your feet.” She clucks her tongue. “Sometimes having too much work isn’t good for the body or the mind.”
“Nope, not too busy.” I sit on the sofa, and my aching feet come to the forefront of my mind. I look forward to soaking them in a tub of Epsom salts. “Daniel was a good boy for you today?”
Maria chuckles. “Of course. He’s always a good boy.”
I stand up. “Thanks, Maria. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She smiles at me. “I feel the same way, hon.”
“Daniel, time to go home, and I’ll make us some supper.”
“Spaghetti and meatballs?” He looks at me with a hopeful tilt to his head.
“We had spaghetti last night.”
“So? I’m sure you can’t eat too much spaghetti and meatballs. That would be silly.”
I smile. “Yes, you’re right, that would be silly. Let’s go. Thank Maria for looking after you today.”
Daniel scrambles to his feet and goes over to Maria and gives her a big hug. She runs a hand over his head, and I can see the love she has for my son. For a split second, I let my fear that Griffin will take Daniel away from us enter my heart, and it nearly strangles me before I shove it away.
“See you tomorrow, my boy.” Maria leans down and presses a kiss to his head.
After I gather his things, we leave Maria’s and go next door to our house. I dump our belongings in the foyer and let Daniel watch a kid’s video in my ancient DVD player I picked up at the freecycle section of the dump. Usually he draws pictures at the kitchen table and asks me a barrage of questions, most of them why, while I cook. I enjoy it, but tonight I’m too stressed over Griffin being in town to focus on that game.
A heavy pot of water thuds on the stove top as I set it to boil for pasta, and I pull out the bag of meatballs from the freezer. Tony at the diner always makes extra for me to give Daniel. That’s one of the great things about Heartland. We all look out for each other, and the people in my life do little things to help me raise Daniel.
When my sauce is simmering on the stove, I grab the open bottle of red wine from my counter and pour myself a glass. It’s my treat after a long day, and I only drink one. Today I’m tempted to pour more than usual, but the last thing Daniel needs is a mother with a drinking problem, so I refrain.
I let out a sigh as I sit at the table and lift my feet to rest them on a chair. A smile comes unbidden to my face. It was good to see Griffin, too good if I think about how my belly flipped over seeing him sitting at a booth in the diner. And I can’t lie to myself and say my heart didn’t flutter a little bit faster when he smiled at me. The man has always been sexy and charming. His charm helped him get through school, too. He didn’t have great grades because he spent most of his time writing and playing music instead of doing math and geography. Obviously, it paid off.
I hear Daniel giggling and glance over at him sitting on the floor in front of a Disney video he’s seen a hundred times. I love hearing him laugh. I want my boy to be happy, and I wonder if denying him his father was the right thing.
I don’t know how Griffin will be as a father, and like most mothers, my instinct to protect my son is strong. I can’t help but remember how horrible Griffin made me feel when I tried to reconnect with him in Las Vegas and he rejected me. Granted we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and he told me how much he missed me. I jumped on the chance to tell him I wanted us to get back together. He claimed he didn’t have time for a girlfriend and that he didn’t feel the same way.
But now he’s back in town wants to see me again. For what? He has to know how much he hurt me last time. He can’t think I’m still so in love that I’ll take whatever he throws my way. Unless…
He’s back for us. His mate.
I want to believe my wolf. I really do. But I can’t help thinking he’s still the jerk who made it clear his career was more important than anything else.
I think this is something I need to know. I can’t make a clear decision about telling Griffin he has a son until I know who he is now. My son’s happiness and safety are my top priority, and I’m not willing to risk it until I find out everything I can about Griffin.
At dinner, Daniel tells me about his day at kindergarten.
“Ashley didn’t want to touch the turtle cuz she thought it would bite her, but I told her it was safe and the turtle was her friend,” he says between slurps of spaghetti noodles.
“That was nice of you to reassure Ashley.”
“She felt better after she petted the turtle. I told her she would.” He stabs a meatball with his fork. “Everything is better after you pet an animal.”
I smile at him. “That’s true.”
“Noah said a bad word during snack time,” he says matter-of-factly.
“He did?”
Daniel nods. “I told him that it was bad to say that.”
“Did you tell the teacher?”
He shakes his head. “I think he’ll learn his lesson. If he does it again, I’ll tell on him.”
My heart swells. My son is a diplomat, even if he is a little bossy at times. It makes me think he’d be a good politician, and I smile thinking I might need to tell Jane to watch out. “I think that’s very wise.”
He nods as if he’s glad I know how clever he is.
After dinner is finished, I clean up while Daniel goes to play in his room until bath time. That will be followed up by stories and bed. For me as well, because I’m tired too.
My dish towel is damp in my fingers as I fold in it half and hang it on the oven door handle to dry. I recall a time when Griffin and I washed the dishes at his house. Well, just the pots and pans because his mother had a dishwasher. I wonder when Griffin
even held a dish towel last. Does he miss regular life?
Taking my wine that I haven’t finished I go into the living room to sit on the sofa. I take out my cell phone and scroll through it to find Griffin’s home phone number. The one to the landline in the house he grew up in. I discovered his cell phone had been changed when I was trying to track him down six years ago. My finger hovers over the number. I can keep coming up with excuses not to tell him about Daniel, but the truth is Hillary was right. He’s going to take one look at Daniel and know anyway.
I hit Call and hold my breath as the phone rings. But when the call is connected, I get a message saying the number is no longer in service. That’s not surprising. He’s famous now. And famous people protect their family’s privacy.
My phone clatters on the coffee table when I set it down, and I take a sip of my wine. Since I can’t call Griffin, I guess I’ll have to visit him at his house. He bought his family home when his parents retired and moved down to a shifter town in Florida, and I assume that’s where he is staying.
Thankfully that rumor has stayed out of the gossip magazines. The last thing Heartland needs is a bunch of fans trying to find the town to photograph his childhood home. Heartland is hard to find for a reason. It wouldn’t do for the average person to find out about a secretive town of shifters.
I pick up my phone again to check the time. I really should give Daniel his bath, so I finish off my wine and get up with a plan. After work tomorrow while Maria is watching Daniel, I’ll go and track Griffin down so we can talk. If I think he’s now the kind of man who can handle being a father, I’ll tell him about his son. If not—my breath catches in my throat and I shake my head at myself. One thing at a time. Because the truth is going to come out soon whether I want it to or not.
Chapter 6
GRIFFIN
When money started pouring in from my first hit album, I offered to buy my parents that retirement home in Florida they’d always talked about. I was thinking a mansion, but they insisted on a condo in a shifter retirement community. Since that was way under budget for what I’d planned, I let my mother furnish it the way she’d always dreamed of. She loves to watch all those home improvement shows, and I’m pretty sure she squealed like a groupie when I told her. I also offered to buy our family home at market value. That way they didn’t have to move furniture or deal with selling a home.
But the real reason I bought the house I grew up in was because I didn’t want to say goodbye to Heartland forever. Or Mandy.
The hollow wood closet door in the master bedroom rattles as I roll it closed after hanging up my shirts. While I’m enjoying the nostalgia here, this house really needs updating. I glance over at the small TV on the dresser and wonder if it even works with today’s technology. Maybe I should call one of my team and have them ship a few things from my LA house here. Or better yet, get my assistant, a woman in her forties, to redecorate the whole place for me. She’d have it done within a week. That woman scares me with her level of efficiency.
I make my way to the living room and decide against getting Shayna to come out. I’m not sure I’m ready for such upheaval. The large bay windows groan as I push them up for fresh air. Dust floats up when I pull the heavy beige cloths off the furniture, and I take the time to fold them neatly. No help is here to do it for me, and I chuckle at myself for wishing someone was. I’ve been spoiled the last decade or so.
When I reveal the battered blue sofa that my parents bought before I was born, I plop down on it. It’s a hard landing, and I decide I might have to do a little online shopping sooner rather than later. I’m not sure I want to know how uncomfortable the beds are.
In the kitchen, the cupboards click as I open and close them as if food will magically appear. What I should be doing is going to the grocery store to stock up. But instead I’m thinking about Mandy and whether she’s single or not. Seeing her again has thrown me for a loop. While I know I deserve it, her cold reception was a blow to my ego. I’ve clearly lost my perspective, and its unsettling. Was she cold because she doesn’t care? Or is she involved with someone else?
I don’t have anyone I can call to ask about Mandy’s relationship status, but I do have Google. I grab my laptop out of one of my bags and boot it up. Using my phone as a hotspot, I do a little research. In the online white pages, I find two addresses for Mandy Waters. One is the house she grew up in, and I guess the other is where she lives now. I take a little solace in the fact that if she is married, it doesn’t appear she took his name.
I realize it’s a bit stalkerish, but I decide to drive by Mandy’s place to do a little sleuthing. If I see two cars, I’ll know she’s got a man and figure out how to deal with the disappointment. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. My panther will have other ideas, but I push that worry aside as I get in my truck and head over to State Street.
I drive there easily, since it’s only a few streets away from where Mandy used to live. I recall when we dated in high school and how I went over to her place all the time, although I’m not sure her dad liked me. He always gave me a hard look. It was probably the army in him. He served in Bosnia.
When I drive by her street, flashes from the past flood into my head. I remember walking with Mandy, hand in hand, talking and laughing. Often I’d sing verses from a song I’d been working on to see if she liked them. She always did. Man, she always made me feel good about my music.
My chest tightens as I get closer to the address, and when I turn on State Street, I hold my breath with hope. I slow down and park across the street from her house to get a good look. There’s only one old car in the driveway. It’s a piece of crap, and I immediately think I should buy her a new one. But then I notice a garage, and I frown thinking it’s possible there could be another vehicle parked inside.
I’m suddenly nervous and wonder if it would be a huge mistake to walk up to her door and knock. What if her husband or boyfriend answers the door instead of her? What the hell could I possibly say? Oh hey, don’t mind me, just wanted to find out if Mandy had a man tucked away in her bed.
As I think about it, I’m sure it’s a bad idea. While being a rock star lets me get away with a lot, and I’m the type to go after what I want, calling on Mandy uninvited is likely too aggressive. She wasn’t exactly friendly when we met at the diner.
I get out of the truck anyway. As I start up the walkway to the front door, I see someone passing by the front window. It’s a small someone with dark hair. Definitely a kid. Then I see Mandy, and she sets her hand on his little head. My stomach knots up when I notice the smile blossom on her face as she looks at him.
Mandy has a kid.
Shit. That’s not good. If she has a child, she’s probably with someone. I didn’t see a ring on her finger, but that doesn’t really mean anything. It could’ve been that she just doesn’t wear it to work because she doesn’t want to lose it or damage it. There are lots of reasons for not wearing a big old diamond to the workplace.
Although this place isn’t very big. And now that I’m closer, I can see the car she’s driving looks like it wouldn’t pass inspection judging by the rust on the wheel wells. My panther growls as anger rises in me. Mandy deserves someone much better than some guy who can’t even make sure she has a safe ride.
Whoa! I tamp down my panther and myself before I storm through the door and start a fight on Mandy’s behalf. My anger is intense, and I think it’s got to do with that mate connection I can no longer deny. I turn and force myself to go back and get in my truck before I do something I’ll regret.
I slam my hands down on the steering wheel in frustration, and pain rushes up my arms from the force. Coming here was a mistake. I was a fool to think a woman like Mandy wouldn’t have a fulfilling life without me. Did I really believe returning to Heartland would mean I could reclaim everything I left behind like I did my family home? Nope. I left Mandy behind and then pushed her away a few years later. I’m an arrogant asshole to think that she’d just be sitting her
e waiting for me to come back.
You are a fool. Maybe the jerk left her. Knock on the door!
My panther is pissed off. I can feel him swiping at my insides. And even though he has a point, I can’t imagine what man would leave a woman with a child to struggle on her own. Mandy’s too smart to marry a guy like that. I say to my panther, No, I’m not going to. It was stupid of me to even come here.
That’s right. You are stupid. Stupid to have ever left here and our mate.
I sigh. Tell me something I don’t know.
As I drive back to my house, my frustration and the anger pulsing through me matches my panther’s. I need to run. We both do. It has been a while, and when I get home, I barely take the time to toss my keys on the kitchen counter before I’m stripping out of my clothes and heading to the backyard.
The cool air on my skin is as welcome as the damp grass under my hands and knees when I get down to shift. I close my eyes and focus on pushing the shift through my body. It takes less than a minute for me to become a panther.
The both of us let out a long sigh of satisfaction, and I stretch out my long, sleek body, shaking a little to align my fur and adapt to my animal form. I stretch out my vocal cords as well, and I chuckle at myself when I hear the sounds. The average person would run away screaming if they heard me make my short, gruff chirps.
After I announce my presence to anyone nearby, I drop and roll onto my back to squirm around. God, this feels good. It’s like scratching an itch that’s been bothering you all day. When I get to my paws again, I make my way into the trees. The entire town is surrounded by trees for this exact reason. To go running. And after a deep breath and a furtive glance around in case there is prey for me to capture, I take off in a sprint as if I’m chasing a small animal.
But I’m not chasing my next meal. What I’m really running after is the love Mandy and I have. Had. Because I think I just learned I lost the only woman I’ve ever loved long before I came home with the hope of getting her back.