by Zoe Chant
When Scarlet turned back to Graham, her face was cool and serene again. “Please don’t say anything to anyone,” she said firmly, not really making it a request. “I haven’t made any firm decisions yet, and there’s no reason to put a pall over everything.”
“I won’t say anything,” Graham agreed, keenly aware of the growing weight of the secrets he was keeping.
He felt Alice’s presence a split-second before Scarlet frowned. “Can I help you?”
Chapter 13
Alice had a keen sense for ‘interrupting something awkward.’ Teaching middle school students was basically made of those moments.
The door to Scarlet’s office was open, and Alice was drifting in before she realized that the warm, welcoming sensation she was feeling was only from her bear, recognizing Graham’s broad back before Alice even registered it.
“I won’t say anything,” he was growling, in that voice that made her shiver despite her best efforts.
“Can I help you?” Scarlet asked sharply.
For a moment, Alice completely forgot why she had come, her senses swamped with Graham. Down girl, she told her bear firmly. She smiled resolutely, ignoring the tension in the room and pretending her own entrance hadn’t been its own special form of awkward. “Yes, actually!” she said cheerfully. “I’m putting together the scrapbook for Mary’s wedding, and I had some questions I was hoping you could help me answer...”
Graham glanced at her once and looked away so quickly that Alice wondered if eyeballs could get whiplash.
Then he turned and walked out without a single word more, leaving her feeling irrationally bereft.
I don’t need him, she reminded herself.
Her bear had strong alternate opinions.
She looked back to find Scarlet giving her an unreadable look, and laughed inelegantly. “He doesn’t say much, does he?”
Scarlet looked at her without saying anything for a long moment, then smiled rather stiffly and moved the pile of paperwork before her on the desk off to the side. “Was there something specific you were looking for?” she asked politely, gesturing to the chair opposite. “For your... scrapbook?”
Alice wondered if there was sympathy in Scarlet’s eyes, and decided she would take a conversation out of pity if it would help her find more clues. She sat down in the chair and made a show of opening the notebook that she had taped a few photos of Mary and Neal to.
“I was hoping you had some photographs of their visit here, or maybe some stories.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Scarlet said simply.
Alice didn’t really have a plan, other than to try to get Scarlet to open up and start chatting.
“Well, I was thinking about doing a bit about the resort itself, since that’s where they met. Can you tell me a little about how it got started and when you took it over?”
Scarlet regarded her for a moment, and then said, with suspicious neutrality, “The resort was designed and nearly entirely built by Aaric Lyons in the early 80s. Upon his disappearance, his son sold this half of the island to Beehag. Four years ago, I secured a lease to restart the resort and got it into operation.”
“That must have been a lot of work,” Alice said encouragingly.
“Yes,” Scarlet answered briefly. Then, reluctantly, “I have an excellent staff.”
“Graham and Travis were among the first people working here, right?” Dammit, how had the topic gotten around to Graham? Alice stumbled on. “It was almost forty years—the jungle must have really grown everything over in that time. I bet it took a long time to cut back the overgrowth.”
Scarlet was silent.
“So, um, okay...” Alice looked down at her pathetic scrapbook, trying not to think about Graham with a machete, beating back jungle vines. Shirtless.
“You’re not really here looking for information about Mary and Neal,” Scarlet observed.
Alice blushed. She was terrible at this spy stuff. She thought about her brother, and her parents, and had to make an effort to draw herself together. Scarlet made her feel like she’d been called to the principal’s office. Did she know about the man with the business card who had sent Alice? N. Padrikanth Moore, the pretentious name had been, no business name, or logo, or any hints as to what kind of person he was. But good people didn’t generally make offers of fifty million dollars to snoop shifter types out.
“I’m sorry to pry,” she said hastily. “I really was hoping to put something nice together for them, but I’ve kind of run into a dead end.” She gave the most natural smile she could manage. “I didn’t mean to be a bother.”
Scarlet’s expression became... complicated. It wasn’t disgust, and it wasn’t anger, but it also wasn’t quite pity, or anything else Alice could put her finger on.
“Graham,” Scarlet said quietly.
Alice stared at her in consternation. If there was anything worse than Scarlet knowing that Alice was a spy, it was Scarlet thinking Alice was pining over the gorgeous gardener who had upended her life by turning out to be her mate.
Even if she sort of was.
Scarlet’s gaze was unsettling, even when she was clearly trying to be gentle. “Graham is a good man,” she said evenly. “He’s quiet, but clever, and he works very hard. He is kind. He would treat you well.”
This was a hundred times worse.
Alice tried to laugh and failed spectacularly. “I’m sure he is. Er, I’m sure he would. Ah, thank you,” she squeaked. “I don’t think it’s going anywhere, though. I’ve got... a job, you know. He... has a job. Jobs we love. Jobs we need. Good jobs.” She clamped her mouth shut, knowing she had said job entirely too many times in a row... and now she could only think about blowjobs, because her traitor bear was feeding her memories of Graham’s naked splendor and she was helpless in the rush of desires that had come with talking about him at all.
If Scarlet had a clue what was going on in her head, Alice didn’t want to know. “I’m really sorry I bothered you,” she said desperately, rising to her feet. She knew which battles to concede. “Thank you for your time. Lovely resort. Great food.”
And she fled out into the courtyard, shutting the door behind her out of habit.
She didn’t get far, only as far as the bench in the courtyard, where she collapsed and tried to get her tangled mind in order.
She shoved Graham—and his glorious cock—from her mind with effort. She had to make some progress with Scarlet’s shift form. She had to, or she could kiss her only hope for saving her family goodbye.
Alice drew in deep breaths, searching for her usual calm and carefree attitude. She wasn’t going to get much out of Scarlet directly, she was sure. But she could use her senses.
With each breath came smells.
Usually, it was just a wild symphony of scents, all tangled together in an overwhelming disharmony that no one else seemed to notice. But if she concentrated, she could pick them out... a wolf shifter had been here... maybe Laura? No, a different wolf. Another bear, as well, perhaps Tex, but just as likely a guest.
Most shifters came through the courtyard in human shape; she could smell soap and sweat and alcohol, leather and plastic from luggage, the tang of grease from their wheels, tantalizing whiffs of the breakfast Chef must be finishing up at the restaurant, the undertone of saltwater on the breeze.
She could smell the little cream-colored cat with Siamese points in orange, and its deodorizing cat litter. She could smell the paper of the mail on Scarlet’s desk, the distinct musty old book smell; all of Scarlet’s books appeared to be older used books.
And muffling it all were the flowers and vines and potted plants throughout the courtyard. Over the vivid, pushy jungle smells, Alice couldn’t pick out any animal scent that was strong enough to be someone who lived here. The strongest of the animal scents was actually lion—Graham’s lion, specifically—musky and earthy and irresistible. Alice gritted her teeth and pushed to her feet.
She was getting nowhere, fast, and she could
feel her chance slipping through her fingers. She realized she’d been crying as the tears started to dry on her cheeks, and scrubbed them away defiantly.
She had to find out what Scarlet was.
There was no other choice.
Chapter 14
Graham peeled off his gardening gloves at the end of the row and sat back on his heels. Did she have to be so hot?
Alice was relentlessly disturbing to him, with the proud lift to her jaw, and the soft mane of her short hair. Even the way she stood, alert and poised on those long, long legs... and worst of all were her hazel eyes, glittering and full of challenge.
Graham wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer that challenge or simply sink to his knees at her feet in surrender the way his lion was sure they should.
He had no interest in running into Alice by accident, so even though he was hungry after a morning of work, Graham gave the buffet a wide berth and found himself sitting behind the hotel at the picnic table he had gotten in the habit of eating at with Breck and Neal before the latter had moved away from the island with his mate.
It somehow didn’t surprise him when Neal appeared, carrying a tray from the buffet.
“How the tables have turned,” the red-maned wolf shifter said wryly. “Sandwich?” When Neal had first come to Shifting Sands, it had been hard for him to accept Scarlet’s generosity. Breck and Graham had taken to discreetly bringing extra food to share at the picnic table so he didn’t have to select his own food from the buffet.
Graham shrugged, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Even a second-rate sandwich from the buffet was something you didn’t turn down. Scarlet insisted on the highest quality of everything; the bread was fresh and fluffy, the meat was cold and flavorful, paired with a creamy cheese, lettuce from Graham’s garden, and a spicy mustard.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of everyone,” Neal said, after a few moments of eating in silence. “It sounded like you... hadn’t wasted time.”
Graham hunched miserably over his meal and didn’t respond.
No, she hadn’t wasted any time explaining exactly how there was nothing between them but leftover evolutionary crap.
“The gang’s all here!” Breck’s bright voice was the last thing that Graham wanted to hear, but the waiter appeared around the corner of the hotel, carrying his own tray. “Brought an extra sandwich for old time’s sake,” he said with relish. “But if you guys are all set, I can throw myself on that bomb.”
Without waiting for an invitation, he scooted in next to Graham on the bench. “Shove those big muscles over, flower-boy.”
The waiter made a production of enjoying his first bites with relish. “Scarlet may be a terrible harpy, but she lays a good spread,” he said approvingly.
“She’s not so much of a harpy as all that,” Neal protested. “I think it’s an act; she’s always been bighearted by action. Even if she constantly swears she isn’t running a...”
“Charity!” Breck finished with Neal. They chuckled.
Graham thought about Scarlet’s dismal news and the defeat in her face that she had tried so hard to mask and could dredge up no humor, taking a vicious bite of his sandwich.
“All we need to complete this reunion is Gizelle,” Breck observed. “Grazing off over there, pretending we don’t exist. Have you seen her yet?”
Neal frowned and shook his head. “I figured I’d let her find me herself, so I haven’t gone looking.”
“You won’t believe how she’s bloomed,” Breck said warmly. “She’s usually human now, brushes her hair—or lets Conall do it—wears clothes most of the time. She helps out at the bar sometimes, hasn’t broken any glasses in weeks.”
“Conall, he’s good for her?” Neal asked cautiously.
“So good,” Breck assured him. “I thought he was a giant, angry jerk when we first met, but he loves that young woman more than anything and she adores him right back. He spoils her rotten, and fortunately she’s too naive to take advantage.”
“He threw a guy who was harassing her into the swimming pool,” Graham added, though he had intended to stay out of the conversation.
“Oh yeah, that was a sight,” Breck laughed. “A deer the size of a mammoth and this mangy, wet bully of a big-mouthed bear. Scarlet marched that jackass straight off the island, you’d better believe it.”
“Good,” Neal said with satisfaction. “I’m glad she’s safe here.”
It suddenly occurred to Graham to wonder what would happen to Gizelle if Scarlet closed the resort. As far as she’d come, as remarkable as her progression had been, she would have a hard time adjusting to a place with normal humans, and she still lacked understanding of many social norms. No one at Shifting Sands cared that she wasn’t polite or didn’t remember to wear clothing, but she still reacted to new things with fear and had a habit of shifting to her gazelle form and fleeing if there were loud noises.
Neal was wrong. She wasn’t safe here. None of them were.
Guilt swamped Graham.
“Speaking of safe,” Neal said leadingly.
“What’s up with you and Alice?” Breck asked more bluntly, when Graham didn’t look up.
Graham shrugged one shoulder and stuffed as much sandwich in his mouth as he could manage. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?” Breck demanded. “She’s your mate!”
Graham shrugged the other shoulder and knew that both of them were staring at him without having to look up.
“Was it a problem in bed?” Breck asked drolly.
Graham almost choked on his sandwich. “No!” A hundred times no.
“Did you... insult her?” Neal guessed.
“No,” Graham said shortly. Not unless I love you was an insult.
Maybe it was, from someone like him.
“Did you say anything?” Breck asked suspiciously.
Graham shrugged.
“Did you at least tell her your name?” Neal demanded.
That earned them a grunt that might have been a laugh. He’d told her a name.
Graham still wondered if it had been the wrong name. He put the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and swallowed.
“Look,” he said gruffly. “I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but she’s got a job. At the end of her vacation, she’s going back to it. I’ve got a job, too, and I’m going back to it now.”
He rose from the bench and stalked off, wondering dismally exactly how long his own job was going to last... and what he would do after that.
Chapter 15
Alice lay in her bed, listening to the night sounds around her little cottage, wishing she could sleep.
A sheet wasn’t warm enough. A blanket was too warm. The pillow was too flat, but two were too much. No position was comfortable.
And she couldn’t stop thinking of Graham.
It wasn’t just the sex, as mind-blowing as that had been. It was the hurt and longing in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide, it was the way he’d smiled at her when they first met, slow and full of depth. It was all the questions she wanted to ask him, all the stories she wanted to tell him.
By the time dawn’s light started to creep around the curtains, she was gritty-eyed and grouchy, and tired of trying.
Alice got up and yanked her clothing on, then wandered quietly out of her cottage, up the white gravel paths towards the restaurant. Singing voices, light, and laughter spilled out of the closed doors of the kitchen, but the restaurant was as empty as she had expected for the hour of the day.
She wandered along the buffet for a moment because she felt restlessly hungry, but the food offered was no more satisfying than her bed had been. She took a piece of rolled lunch meat out of a sense of obligation and munched it as she left the restaurant.
At the door, she turned right, up the steep resort, towards the spa and the office. If she was canny, could she surprise Scarlet shifting? Maybe she was some kind of alien and Alice could catch her coming out of a cocoon...
“You’re up early,” a gentle voice greeted her, and she turned to find a beautiful Latina woman holding a yoga mat coming from the spa.
“Jet lag!” Alice said with false brightness. “My internal clock is all out of whack! Traveling would be so much easier without the traveling part, you know.”
“I’m about to go start a sunrise yoga class,” the woman said kindly. “Would you care to join me?”
“I... er...” Alice couldn’t think of a good reason not to. “I don’t have a mat?”
The other woman laughed. “Most guests don’t. We can stop by the activity center and get one there. I’m Lydia.” She offered a slight, gentle hand and Alice tried not to crush it.
“I’m Alice.”
That earned her a second, thoughtful look, and Alice could only imagine what she’d heard.
But Lydia didn’t bring Graham up, only asked how Alice was liking her stay so far, and chatted sweetly about the resort and the weather as they picked out a mat for her to use and walked past the pool to a wide lawn overlooking cliffs past the beach.
Apparently, Alice was the only one to show up for the class, and she was keenly aware of her clumsy, oversized body as Lydia, lithe and impossibly bendy, took her through a challenging series of poses.
They talked casually as they stretched and Lydia mildly corrected her posture.
“About Graham...” she finally said, exactly as Alice had been dreading.
Alice groaned, letting her head fall limp. Lydia had picked a moment when it would be challenging and graceless to storm off; she was leaning on her hands, with her butt in the air.