by Zoe Chant
She didn’t want anything from him.
And why should she? He didn’t have anything to offer her.
“S’okay,” Alice told Conall, after giving Graham a return scowl. “I think the earthquake scared her.”
Gizelle looked out from the shelter of Conall’s arms with big, frightened eyes. “They woke it up,” she said anxiously.
“Who, sweetheart?”
“The bad people without voices,” Gizelle said, then she buried her face in his chest and refused to speak.
Alice looked quizzically at them, then shook her head and went to collect her beer bottle, frowning at the wasted beer. “Okay then,” she said dismissively. “It was nice to meet you, I’m going to go find Mary and Amber and take a shower as soon as I’ve figured out what cottage I’m in.”
“Twenty-two,” Graham growled, grabbing a towel from behind the bar.
Alice gave him a hard look.
“You left your key,” he explained shortly as he went to mop up the spilled beer.
“Did you find my bra?” Alice asked, standing in his way with her hand outstretched for the towel.
Was it a joke? Was he supposed to laugh? Graham felt like he was on the spot, and attempted a chuckle. “Huh. Huh.”
It didn’t sound like a chuckle, and he felt like a fool. He wasn’t even sure why he was trying. She’d made it perfectly clear that she had no interest in anything more than sex, and he should be glad for that.
“You didn’t happen to bring the key?” Alice asked him, not impressed by his terrible attempt to laugh.
Graham shrugged. He’d forgotten the key in the cottage after his shower. “It won’t be locked.” He gave her the towel.
“Great.” Alice turned away dismissively to clean up the mess, and Graham turned and left the bar rather than watch her bend over the way he desperately wanted to.
Jenny caught him as he walked into The Den, excited and bubbling over with news. “We got a lead!” she said, grinning.
Graham stared at her, not sure of the topic or an appropriate response. He was pretty sure she wasn’t talking about Alice.
“Tony was able to get a little more information on Grant Lyons for us,” Jenny explained in answer to his confused glare. “Most of it is in a sealed plea deal, but we found out where he did time, and why.”
Graham’s blood turned to ice. They knew. They knew what Grant Lyons had done.
“Did Scarlet change her mind about trying to find him?” Bastian asked, flipping through the mail on the counter.
Jenny shook her head, dark curls bouncing. “We’re just going to keep looking quietly,” she said, her eyes dancing. “Think about it! What if we could find him? What if he’s still rich and could buy the island? Beehag and his asshole lawyer wouldn’t be able to stop the sale, and we wouldn’t be wondering week to week if they were going to be able to find a way to break the resort lease just to spite Scarlet.”
“What does Benedict Beehag have against Scarlet anyway?” Saina asked, reaching over Bastian to pick a fashion magazine out of the pile.
“Well, Scarlet was there when they broke up the zoo and his uncle died,” Bastian suggested. “Maybe he blames her for his uncle’s death?”
“I never got the idea that Allistair and Benedict were close,” Jenny said thoughtfully. “I just get the feeling that Benedict doesn’t like the resort. Maybe he’s got something against shifters. I mean, his uncle did keep them in cages; maybe the whole family has some grudge against them.”
Graham’s limbs had thawed enough to consider creeping past for his room when Breck and Darla came laughing down the hallway, arms around each other.
“We got more information on Grant Lyons,” Jenny told them, excited, and Graham stalked past, then stopped just far enough down the hallway that he could listen, heart at the bottom of his stomach, but not be seen shamelessly eavesdropping.
“Do tell!” Breck was always up for gossip and news.
“We found out why he was in prison, and where,” Jenny said avidly. “Which gives us more clues about friends from his past who might know where he is.”
Graham leaned against the wall, feeling the tiniest shiver of relief. They wouldn’t have any luck pursuing friends. Grant Lyons didn’t have friends.
“What did he do?” Darla asked softly. “To be put in jail, I mean?”
Any relief Graham had been reveling in vanished into despair at Jenny’s words. “He killed some guy. Most of the details were obscured as part of his plea deal.”
Darla made a little noise of dismay.
Graham closed his eyes against the memories that still kept him awake most nights.
“Are we sure we want a murderer to own the resort?” Bastian asked skeptically.
You don’t, Graham wanted to tell him.
“It sounds like an improvement to me,” Breck said. “Besides, it’s not like all of us have shiny clean slates. Graham was in jail for manslaughter, and we trust him. Laura worked for the mob. Wrench’s hands aren’t particularly clean...”
Graham held his breath, waiting for them to put the pieces together.
He wanted them to, he realized. He wanted them to figure it out, so he didn’t have to tell them or suffocate under the weight of the secret.
Instead, Saina changed the subject, perhaps worried that she would be next in Breck’s list; she had not always been scrupulous about the use of her siren magic. “Amber’s asked us to help throw a bachelorette party for Mary. Should we have it here, or at the bar?”
“Let’s do it here,” Jenny said eagerly. “We can kick the boys out and do daiquiris!”
“You don’t have to kick all the boys out,” Breck suggested slyly. “It’s traditional to have a stripper at these affairs, and I will reluctantly let you demean me in this manner.”
“Reluctantly,” Bastian scoffed, as the others laughed.
“Only if it’s hands-off,” Darla said possessively. “And I get to watch!”
From the giggles, Breck must have tickled or poked her. There was the sound of a kiss, murmurs about a private show, and more laughter.
The conversation flowed to the party, and the wedding, and Graham trudged on to his room, feeling ashamed and angry and aching.
He wanted to be someone different, someone better. He wanted to deserve his friends’ trust. He wanted his past to stop haunting him.
Graham closed the door quietly behind him and leaned on it with a groan.
He wanted Alice.
Chapter 11
Dinner with Mary, Amber, and their mates was straight-up torture.
They all knew that Graham was Alice’s mate, and that she had slept with him, and if they didn’t know the details of their parting, they at least knew that it hadn’t exactly ended with pledges of devotion.
I love you, he’d said.
Well, she hadn’t ended it with pledges of devotion.
If her dinner partners didn’t say anything directly, their careful choice of topics and thoughtful sideways glances sent the message quite clearly: they thought she was being crazy.
She felt crazy.
She felt as loony as the gazelle shifter, and she desperately wished she could get away with shifting and running away to escape the awkward dinner and her own awkward self.
But being shy and eccentric as a small, delicate antelope was a lot different than it was as a giant, clumsy brown bear, and Alice knew it would only be ridiculous if she tried. To say nothing of destructive.
So she plowed through the meal and the conversation with bullish cheer, praising the food, making observations about the weather, and expressing gratitude that Mary had chosen not to put the bridesmaids in heels—in part because of Amber’s advancing pregnancy and in part because Alice already towered over most of the wedding party.
It occurred to her rather suddenly that Tony had been investigating Scarlet when he first came to the resort; she had been near the top of his list of suspects for the disappearing shifters that Beehag had bee
n kidnapping. Had he figured out what her animal shift form was in that time?
It was far preferable to think about the uncomfortable topic of her real mission on the island than it was to think about Graham.
Alice steered the conversation to ask about their original visits to the island.
Mary and Neal laughed about his attempts to avoid her.
“I couldn’t figure it out,” Mary chuckled. “I’d catch sight of him, and it was like I was wearing roadkill perfume—he was suddenly fleeing in the opposite direction.”
“Not my finest hour,” Neal agreed, smiling fondly at her. “But sometimes, it’s a rocky path to true love.”
Everyone very carefully did not quite look at Alice.
“What about you, Tony?” Alice asked brightly. “You were actually here investigating Scarlet, weren’t you? Did you find out any juicy secrets about her before you got distracted by meeting Amber and breaking up Beehag’s zoo? Everyone’s dying to know what her shift form is.”
She did her best to sound casual, but the looks she got suggested she had not moved past crazy in their minds.
“Most of what came up in the investigation is classified,” Tony said apologetically. “But no, we never did find out what she is.”
Then the dessert tray was brought by Chef himself, the cook with arms like barrels and a warm, friendly smile in his handsome, graying face.
“Strawberry cheesecake,” Alice selected from the tray.
“An excellent choice,” Chef said, as he set the artful little plate in front of her. They were small strawberries, but a generous portion of them, deep red and drizzled with a matching sauce. “These strawberries are grown here on the island by our very own Graham and were picked this morning. He’s a masterful gardener, and we’re lucky to have a selection of his fresh fruit and produce.”
Of course Graham had grown the strawberries. Alice gave the chef a suspicious sideways look, not sure if the mention of Graham was deliberate or not. Probably everyone knew about them by now. It wasn’t that big an island.
It was too late to change her mind, so Alice smiled. “Sounds great!” she squeaked.
“That looks amazing!” Amber agreed with a sly sideways look. “I’ll have one, too.”
“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Mary groaned, while their mates picked out their own desserts.
“Eating for two,” Amber said merrily.
Alice didn’t want to start eating before they were all served, so while the others talked about pregnancy and joked about having to roll Amber to their cottage, she stared at her strawberries—strawberries that Graham had planted, nurtured... plucked with those big, strong hands...
Damn it.
Her bear’s fire had only been dampened, and now it rose again in her, swamping logical thought.
Amber’s cheesecake was swiftly brought out, and Alice finally took a tentative bite: creamy cake of a perfect consistency, just the right amount of sweet and deliciously cool in the hot tropical evening... and one flawless strawberry.
It was an amazing flavor combination, and Alice closed her eyes and savored it, until she realized she was remembering the taste of Graham’s kiss.
She ate the rest with mechanical efficiency, trying to keep up with the dinner small talk and not sound like she was thinking about a splendidly shirtless Graham feeding her strawberries.
As they gathered up to leave the restaurant at last, Amber said firmly, “You boys go on ahead! We’ll catch up!”
Alice knew what they were planning, and was not surprised when Amber and Mary each took an arm and steered her to the bar rather than to the paths that led to the rental cottages.
She could have shaken them off; despite being shifters, both of them together did not have the strength to make her do anything she didn’t really want to. But they were her friends, and she knew that if she didn’t have this conversation now, it would be an even more awkward one later.
She shoved images of Graham and strawberries firmly from her head as Mary ordered drinks for all of them, and met their appraising gazes with her chin up.
“So, what’s going on with you and Graham?” Amber finally asked.
Mary added, “We didn’t actually expect you to join us for dinner tonight. Or to see you much at all the next few days, to be honest.”
“We’ve got a wedding to get ready for,” Alice said innocently. “I couldn’t just leave you guys hanging.”
Mary and Amber exchanged looks that could only be described as deeply skeptical.
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Mary said firmly.
Alice sighed, noisy and unladylike. “Look, I’m really happy for both of you. But that’s not how mates always work out. The sex was great, and that’s all there was. We both have our own lives already. He doesn’t fit into mine, and I’m not going to give up my job to move here. You know how much I love my job! I took our team to state three years running! Anyway, a mate isn’t true love or any nonsense like that.”
Mary and Amber looked confused.
“You like him, don’t you?” Mary asked.
“What’s to like?” Alice said as carelessly as she could. “He’s hot, and he’s built, but he’s said maybe two complete sentences to me, under duress. That’s not much to build a friendship on, let alone a relationship.”
One of the sentences had been I love you, she remembered, and she was painfully grateful when the cowboy bartender brought them drinks: a fancy fruit thing with an umbrella for Mary, a virgin version of the same for Amber, and a stout glass of whiskey on the rocks for Alice.
Real girly, she thought with a grimace. A catch like me, it’s a wonder I’m not beating off the men. She toasted Amber and Mary and downed half of it in a swallow.
She was rewarded with a burn down her throat that held no candle to the burning in her belly.
Chapter 12
Graham had forgotten all about the tomatoes Chef had requested the day before, and he didn’t think about them again until he received a text from Scarlet asking him to see her in her office ‘at your convenience.’
At your convenience generally meant drop what you’re doing and get here right now, so Graham aborted the morning workout that he’d been planning on and hiked immediately to the top of the resort, not even bothering to change into his staff uniform first.
He wondered if that gave the wrong impression when Scarlet raked him with her glance and frowned. “Should I be expecting your resignation?”
For a moment, Graham was deeply confused. Then he remembered. Alice.
Not that he’d forgotten her for a single moment since he had laid eyes on her—her intoxicating hazel eyes, the defiant tilt of her chin, the waves of her sensible, short hair—but he hadn’t considered that Scarlet might not know that Alice didn’t want him.
Oh, she had wanted him, had answered his desire with her own passion and heat, but she hadn’t wanted him.
It’s not fate, she’d said flatly. Just leftover evolutionary crap or something.
And who could blame her? Graham was no prize. He offered her nothing.
Graham realized he was scowling at Scarlet and hadn’t answered her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled.
Scarlet raised an eyebrow at him. “Should I be finding a position here for Alice?” she prompted. “What are her qualifications?”
Graham gave a defiant shrug. “Don’t think she’s interested in moving here.” Hearing the words out loud was like a punch to the gut. He thought he’d made peace with it, but no part of him actually had.
Scarlet’s eyes went soft, which was the last thing Graham wanted or needed. “I’m... sorry to hear that,” she said gently.
Graham refused to lower his gaze, despite the discomfort hers always caused, and for once, she looked away first.
“What did you need?” he asked gruffly.
If he had not been staring at her, he would have missed the little sigh she gave, and the fall to her shoulders. “I wanted to know what yo
ur plans for the future were,” she said neutrally. “Because I am considering closing the resort and filing for bankruptcy, and if you were leaving that would simplify the decision.”
The defiance went out of Graham in a shocked, sympathetic rush. “You... can’t do that.”
“I don’t have a lot of choices,” Scarlet snapped.
“The lawsuit,” Graham guessed.
Scarlet picked up a heavy stack of paperwork and let it drop back to the desk with a thump. “The anticipated gift from the generous and benevolent Jubilee Grant.”
Graham frowned. “As bad as you thought?”
“Four hundred and fifty thousand for cancellations, loss and damages. Eight hundred and twenty thousand for mental anguish. As a bonus, a copy of a report to the Costa Rican government that we should be investigated for food sanitation violations.”
She moved that aside and picked up a manila envelope with a familiar logo on it. “As if that weren’t enough, Beehag’s asshole lawyer is trying to use the lawsuit as a reason to break our lease.”
Graham grunted. None of this was good news. “Can you fight it? Have you shown it to Jenny?”
“I haven’t told her yet,” Scarlet said, with a shake of her head. “It only came in this morning, and we have some time to formulate our responses. Let everyone enjoy the wedding without this hanging over their heads. I’m sorry to burden you with it.”
“It’s not a—” Graham broke off with a grunt of surprise as a small form bumped against the back of his calf and gave his ankle an affectionate rub. He didn’t bother to finished the sentence as the leggy, cream-colored cat walked into the room like she owned it and launched herself up onto Scarlet’s desk.
“Tyrant,” Scarlet greeted, as gravely as if she was a shifter and not a normal cat.
Tyrant had been a gift intended for Gizelle, but she had clearly chosen Scarlet as her primary companion, to the amusement of everyone at the resort... except Scarlet.
Tyrant gave a mrrr of greeting and tried to investigate the paperwork, reaching a paw for the shining closure on the manila envelope. Scarlet scooped her up from the desk and cuddled her in a brief, unexpected display of warmth, rubbing her cheeks and coaxing a whisker-quivering purr from the half-grown cat before setting her down on the wide window sill behind her. Several potted plants had been replaced by a cushion, and Tyrant blinked happily at the sunlight pouring in and began to groom herself, still purring.