by C. D. Gorri
He had no excuse. He was not a Shifter. He could control himself. Despite his grandfather’s lessons on mates Terrence knew he had the power to walk away.
It was just him and him alone. He had no excuse for wanting to break his vow to remain alone for the rest of his days. Never once had he been tempted to try and find a companion.
Except for at that very moment. Right then, everything inside of him was screaming one word above all others.
His blood coursed through his veins faster than a bullet train. The sound like roaring thunder in his ears. He didn’t blink. Could hardly move. The woman finally realized she was not alone. Big green eyes stopped and stared at him. Her pink mouth hung open, the pain in her finger momentarily forgotten.
Terrence’s entire body went still as the object of his focus turned to view him. His muscles tightened, cock hardened, and throat burned in response.
He opened his mouth and said the only thing he was able to in a voice that was barely more than a growl.
“Mate.”
Chapter 2
Well, shit, Daisy huffed another breath as she climbed the ladder and attempted to reattach the plant hook to the ceiling. Again.
Sigh. Chubby girls did not do ladders. Even if they were fairly active. And she was. As much as a girl with her condition could be. Besides, even if chubby girls did go around running up and down ladders, they didn’t do it well.
As for why she was standing on the rickety old step ladder she’d found in the broom closet, that was easy. Daisy loved plants. And this particular vine was one of her favorites.
She’d had it for years and years. It had been with her since boarding school. When the hook had given way and it came crashing down from the ceiling, she almost died trying to catch it. Good news, the plant survived, bad news, the hook came down with it.
Still, she was glad she’d managed to save the poor beauty. Even if she did lose the pot. That was okay. She had dozens of empties at the moment.
It was a good thing she’d started making her own with the way she went through them. LOL. Anyway it was a great outlet for her creativity. Once she’d started with plants, she’d learned that a lot of the more efficient planters were simply too expensive for her to keep up with.
So, she began to make them herself. Nowadays her pottery was a permanent part of her catalog on Daisy’s Garden. That was what she called her online store.
New York was too expensive for her to rent space. She sold her plants and several of her affordable handcrafted pots to several local flower shops. She did most of her business on her own online store and was hoping to grow her local customers now that she lived in the area.
Daisy loved the city. She’d always dreamed of living in the Big Apple ever since she was a kid in Pennsylvania. Having no money except for a small inheritance from her grandmother had made her weary of the sky-high rents. As a result, she’d been commuting from New Jersey every day to make her deliveries. It was hell on her second-hand commercial van not to mention her wallet.
Imagine her surprise when a friend from her old boarding school, Mrs. Parker’s School for Girls, Leandra Katell, had messaged her with the news that she was getting married. The two of them had spent a good amount of time together in those days.
Daisy’s father travelled a lot for work and her mother had been unable to care for their shy, awkward, and often ill teenager. She’d been shipped off to the secluded school where she pretty much stayed to herself.
Except for Leandra, she hardly talked to anyone. Though the other woman had two best friends, Daisy had always felt drawn to her. She was so happy and outgoing, comfortable in her own skin.
Everything Daisy wanted to be. She smiled at the memories of her time back then. She’d been chubby and awkward. Her health was always a problem, but Leandra had made her laugh time and again with her outrageous antics. They’d spent most of their physical education classes hiding from their teacher while Daisy dreamt of gardens and Leandra of singing.
Well, her old chum had certainly hit it big. And on Broadway of all places! Her hit musical, the Beast of Brooklyn Heights, was the talk of the town. Not only that, but she’d fallen in love with the show’s producer! Her life had turned into a real fairytale! Sigh.
If only mine could turn out that way, she mused. But in a way it had. Leandra had been looking for someone to take-over her lease in the heart of Manhattan and Daisy had, of course, jumped at the opportunity.
It warmed her heart that Leandra even thought about her in the middle of her own happiness. Daisy sighed loudly. Apartment 6J wasn’t exactly big, but it was hers now. Located on the top floor of one of those old ten-story buildings that were almost non-existent these days.
The place had character. Real brick on the outside, old marble tile in the entryway. The hallways were painted a dark blue with white tiled floors. There was no elevator of course, but her thighs would thank her later. At least that was what she told herself time and again.
The apartment was small, but big enough for her. She had access to the rooftop where she’d been assured, she could set up her small kiln and greenhouse. That had been the first thing she’d asked and could have danced for joy when Leandra had told her it was no problem at all. Best of all it was rent controlled!
The movers had already finished setting stuff up on the roof for her. Now she just had to get things organized. It was amazing that what a few extra bucks couldn’t do, a flash of her big green eyes could.
She had practically begged the moving men to climb the extra stairs and set up for her. She’d offered them money, and they still refused. But when she’d asked them in for a cup of coffee and some grilled cheese sandwiches, a joke, and a smile, they not only carried everything to the roof, they took an hour to set it all up.
What a great bunch of guys! She looked at the card with the tallest one’s number on it and giggled. She’d given him a small houseplant for his mom and he gave her his number. Picking up phone numbers from virtual strangers was not a common occurrence for Daisy. She would more than likely lose it before she used it, but it was a great compliment at any rate.
She’d always been so shy around men in her younger days. Certain they wouldn’t notice a chubby little thing like her. Nearing thirty had definitely changed her. Daisy figured it was long past time she felt comfortable in her own skin.
Her health was better than it had been in years. After her grandmother passed and she’d been given her own initial diagnosis, she learned that life was precious. And short.
There were no guarantees. Her parents had reacted to the news that their daughter had a heart defect by pushing her away and sending her off to school. It had hurt at first, but she understood now it was their problem, not hers.
She was not going to let anyone else ever dictate her self-worth again. She finished school with high marks, took her small legacy her grandmother had left her, and started her own business. After working for years to get her company off the ground, she’d finally decided to work on herself.
She had a new haircut, some new clothes, and now a new apartment to go with her new attitude. Daisy was more than ready to take Manhattan by storm. But first, she had to take care of her babies and make sure they were okay.
Her “babies” being the four or five dozen or so plants, miniature trees, and flowers she kept in her apartment at all times. With the thermometer set at a comfortable seventy-degrees Fahrenheit and the cool mist humidifier going, she’d have the place up to par in no time.
If only she could get this dang hook to stay. She’d tried to use a bigger screw instead of the one it came in. Hoping to bully the thing into staying up she tried everything to jimmy it into place, but she’d only managed to get it stuck.
Desperate to finish the little project, Daisy had grabbed a hammer thinking she’d pound the screw in the rest of the way, only she missed. The screw that is, not her finger. That she of course got. Ouch.
“Ow! Dammit!”
She yelped and dr
opped the tools, cradling her hand to her chest. Daisy groaned not even reacting to the sound of footsteps coming towards her. They grew louder and faster.
Great. Someone else to witness her humiliation. She turned around carefully from her position on top of the ladder and almost lost her footing. If the pain in her hand wasn’t so intense, she’d have thought she dropped dead and was in the presence of an angel. The stranger was absolutely beautiful.
Yes, she thought, men could be beautiful. He was proof. The tall, sexy as hell man was not just drop-dead gorgeous. He was also staring at her like she was the all-you-can-eat shrimp fest at Red Lobster and he was starved.
She took in his appearance from the sedate checkered button-down he wore tucked into a pair of tight khakis, all the way down to his evenly laced shockingly orange suede sneakers. A black-banded smart watch was strapped around his left wrist, but other than that he wore no jewelry.
He was just the kind of guy she’d always secretly lusted after. Sort of nerd chic, she supposed. So much yumminess wrapped up in a button-down. Of course, she’d never seen so much muscle in such oddly un-macho clothing.
Whatever. It worked. Daisy practically drooled on herself. He was just so darn hot. She even forgot about her poor abused appendage while she stared at him. She felt too warm all of a sudden, and truth be told, a little wet in certain places. And, gulp, was he staring also?
“Sorry. Um, sorry was I too loud?” she felt her cheeks flame.
Embarrassment warred with attraction as she moved carefully down the ladder. Daisy extended her uninjured hand but put it quickly down as the handsome stranger remained still and silent by her door.
“You alright?” She asked concerned that he might have had a stroke or something.
“You hurt your hand,” he stated in a deeply masculine voice that sent tendrils of awareness shooting down her spine.
Daisy had never experienced anything like it. She swallowed hard. Looking down at her still throbbing thumb, she frowned. Darn it. She was definitely going to have a black and blue by morning.
“Crap, I better get some ice. Oh no, I don’t have any,” she sighed and closed her eyes.
“I’ll get you some,” he said and before she could blink he was gone.
That was weird. Well, it certainly was the fastest she’d ever managed to run off a hot guy. At least she’d have some fodder for her fantasies later on. Sigh.
She walked over to the second-hand couch Leandra had left in the apartment which Daisy promptly claimed as her own and sat down gingerly. Moving in was hard work. She was used to being on her feet for long periods at a time, but carrying heavy boxes and unpacking added to the strain on her muscles.
Now this. Ugh. She sighed again and looked at her quickly blackening thumb. No sooner had she inhaled another breath than the sexy stranger was back.
“Here,” he moved close to her and took her hand in his own large, callused one. Ooh, she hadn’t expected that. Figured he’d be smooth and polished but clearly he had a hobby where he worked with his hands.
Not that she knew what he did for a living, but construction did not come to mind based on his attire. Then again, his muscles told another story.
Ooh. A mystery man, she thought to herself. When was the last time she enjoyed a game of twenty questions with a member of the opposite sex?
Far too long, was her sadly accurate answer. But that didn’t matter she realized as she took in his sharp, aristocratic features and pale as moonlight skin.
She would gladly play with him. Heck yeah. She found him positively captivating. So good looking, it hurt to stare at him for too long. But she didn’t want to blink, she was afraid he’d vanish. A perfect figment of her imagination.
He had angular features, that should have been sharp, but only made him more masculine. His hair was a sort of pale red. More strawberry blonde than Ron Weasley carrot red.
She liked it. A lot. Especially when his gray eyes met hers. Daisy had to bite her tongue to stop from gasping aloud. Holy crap. She’d never seen eyes like that. They glittered like molten steel. Hard and honest, but at the same time hot enough to brand her with his gaze.
Gulp.
He took her hand and laid a thin towel on top followed by a plastic baggie full of crushed ice. Immediate relief flowed through her and she sighed gratefully.
“Thank you, Mister? I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” she smiled hoping to lighten the mood and cover up her bizarre attraction to the stranger.
“I have to go,” he seemed to whisper the words even as his head drifted closer to her.
OMG! Was he going to kiss her? She wanted him to, she realized with a start. Daisy leaned in closer, unable to help herself. She swore she heard something. A deep rumble coming from him.
He seemed to groan, then just like that he was gone. Poof! Like he’d never existed. She stood mouth open for a full minute at his hasty exit.
“Guess you scared him off with your sexy smile,” she laughed at herself and shook her head.
Too bad, she thought. He was cute, but obviously mental. Oh well. Back to work.
Chapter 3
It had been three days. Three days since he’d seen her. Ever since then her sweet and fresh garden scent seemed to haunt his every move. Three days since the last time he’d managed a single coherent thought.
Terrence entered his apartment quickly after work and immediately turned on the stereo. He couldn’t risk hearing her. Scenting her was bad enough. He’d been walking around with a semi-erection for days now. A little Mozart might help. Classical music was good for the soul now and then, or so he’d heard.
Fuck it. He was willing to try anything at this point. And after a day of listening to people sing, he appreciated the instrumental strains as they sounded through his set of high-end Bose speakers.
“Better,” he mused while he started to gather up his discarded clothes to run a load of laundry.
Next, he loaded soiled dishes and glasses into the dishwasher. Then after spraying and wiping every available surface clean, he finally sat down on the couch. Hints of lavender and sage seemed to find him through the very walls they shared.
He recalled the lovely oval face of his new neighbor. Her pale skin, pink lips, chestnut hair, and incredible green eyes imbedded in is brain like any well learned lesson from his youth. She was so beautiful. So unattainable.
Mine, his brain roared. No. He would never claim her. And yet, he could not stop thinking about her.
Dammit. He was restless. What else could he do to distract himself from his sexy new neighbor?
Clean until you pass out. He got out his Dyson and moved the coffee table to the side of the room. After vacuuming the bare floors and rearranging the furniture, he decided enough was enough.
It was Friday night. Late at that. She was probably out with her friends. Or with a man. No. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility. Muscles bunched he closed his eyes. Maybe she’s asleep.
Yes, that worked. He could picture her in bed. Alone. Safe from him. Safe from temptation.
Of course, picturing her in bed did nothing to relieve the hard-on that was currently popping a tent in his sweats.
Inhale. And exhale. Nope. Still there.
Fuck. Maybe it was time for a little dinner? Nah. His stomach revolted at the thought of food.
Blood? Ugh. The idea of imbibing animal blood at that moment left him feeling worse than the idea of food.
When in doubt, Pop-Tarts. He smirked as he headed over to the pantry. He always kept a wide variety of the crunchy, gooey sweetness on hand. They weren’t really food. More like an edible addiction.
Like my mate. Fuck. No sooner had the thought entered his mind then there was a knock at the door. Who the heck could that be? With all the cleaning products in the air his nose could barely detect whether the person was human or not.
Sniff. Uh oh.
His dick was undeniably hard and she was here. Right outside his door. Terrence took a s
econd and pulled his t-shirt down to cover the damn thing, but she was pounding away furiously.
What the heck? He didn’t sense anyone else in the hallway. She was alone. So what was the hurry?
Terrence answered the door with half a strawberry Pop-Tart sticking out of his mouth and the box held precariously in front of his throbbing dick.
Holy shit. Said box hit the floor when he saw her.
“Let me in quick!” She squeaked and ran past him.
His new neighbor sported nothing but a blue polka-dotted thong as she hustled past Terrence and ducked behind his couch, giving him an incredible view of her heart shaped ass before she crouched out of sight.
“Towel?”
“What?” he said with his mouth still full.
“Do you have a towel or something?”
“Uh yeah. Hang on,” he reached for the throw blanket he kept on the chair and tossed it at her swallowing the suddenly dry toaster pastry.
One side of his mouth quirked up as he imagined what the heck mess she’d gotten into now. As if the hammer and thumb thing was more common than not. The woman in question sighed in relief before she appeared, stepping out from behind his furniture.
The loosely knit afghan had holes between the knots giving him tantalizing glimpses of her pale flesh between the beige yarn. He didn’t want to come off as some sort of deranged pervert, so he managed to stop himself from staring. Barely.
“So, uh, I understand you are the landlord?” She asked as if it were perfectly acceptable to come barreling into one’s landlord’s apartment in nothing but your underwear in the middle of the night.
“Um, yeah, that’s right.”
“We, uh, weren’t properly introduced the other day. My name is Daisy Amante.”
“Terrence. Davies. Terrence Davies.”
“The director? No shit,” she said and he struggled not to laugh.
There she stood looking outrageously cute in practically nothing and she was chatting like they were at a tea party. Didn’t she know she was practically offering herself to him? Teasing him like a red flag in front of a bull?