by Zoe Chant
Shaun knelt and gathered the limp cub into his arms, cradling the creature against his shoulder.
Trevor’s mother had abandoned him. He was stuck with a father he barely knew. He’d missed the day at preschool that he’d desperately wanted to attend. Add a late dinner and an argument to that, and Shaun didn’t blame him for wanting to escape into some other form.
“I’d protect you from all of this if I could,” Shaun said, holding the lion cub close. “I should have... tried harder to make it work, gotten a better lawyer. I should have been here for you more.”
Trevor stirred in his sleep, nuzzling his whiskered nose against Shaun’s neck.
He shifted back to a little boy halfway up the stairs, and barely came awake as Shaun awkwardly tried to dress him in a pair of superhero pajamas.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah?” Would he have questions about being a shifter? Shaun braced himself.
“Do you like Miss Andrea?”
That wasn’t the question Shaun was prepared for. “Yes,” he said helplessly, thinking of her laughing golden eyes and gorgeous curves. “I like her a lot.”
Our mate, his tiger reminded him with a purr.
“I don’t want you to like her,” Trevor said with unexpected fierceness, his blue eyes suddenly wide open and intense.
Shaun froze in the act of tucking the blanket around Trevor’s neck.
“She’s your teacher,” Shaun reminded his son plaintively. “Don’t you like her?”
“I like her as a teacher,” Trevor said, as if the distinction was clear. “That’s all you should like her, too.”
Shaun felt like his chest had been carved hollow. Every half-formed idea he’d had about telling Andrea he was a shifter, and her mate, was suddenly, abruptly dead.
His tiger gave a yowl of despair.
Trevor was the only thing in their world that could have kept him from Andrea.
For someone who wasn’t even four feet tall, it was a lot of power.
Before he could stop himself, Shaun vowed, “I won’t then. I promise.”
The words were like a vice around his heart.
Chapter 8
Andrea counted paintbrushes out into paper cups and dug the scissors out of the back of the cabinet, then stared at the list of things left to collect for several moments without reading a single word.
“Use your sounds if the word seems complicated,” Patricia teased her, limping in through the storage room door to switch out the poster for the next letter behind her chair. “A sounds like ah or aye. B sounds like buh...”
Andrea blushed. “Thanks, Miss Patricia,” she said mockingly, shaking her head. She gathered up the rest of the supplies she needed efficiently, and followed Patricia out to set up the room for the onslaught of preschoolers.
“I met Trevor’s dad,” she said as casually as she could, placing the supplies at each desk.
Patricia glanced over at her suspiciously and Andrea felt her traitorous cheeks heat again. “Do tell!”
“Just briefly,” Andrea protested. “I helped him unlock the house. It has a tricky deadbolt. And I watched Trevor for Harriette sometimes, so I knew how to work it. That’s all. Just unlocked the house for him, and showed him where the light switches were.” She made herself shut her mouth.
Patricia’s laugh was as golden as her hair. “Oh, you got it bad,” she teased. “Is he a dish?”
“Such a dish,” Andrea admitted. “The most gorgeous, steel-gray eyes. And these shoulders...” She caught herself making vague shapes with her hands and put herself back to work putting art supplies at each spot.
“And?”
“And the jaw. And the legs. And the suit. And the smile...” Andrea sighed to remember and her hawk gave a whistle of anticipation.
“And?!” Patricia insisted. “Have you got a date?”
“No!” Andrea protested. “All I did was unlock his house.” How many times could you say unlock in one conversation before you sounded like an idiot? “Well, we did have dinner. But it was just a box of macaroni and cheese.”
“Mmm, unlock his house,” Patricia said suggestively. “It sounds like you did.”
They both giggled like schoolgirls, and then the bell at the front door jingled cheerfully and the first of the children began to arrive.
Andrea debated telling Patricia about how her hawk was insisting that Shaun was her mate; she had told Patricia she was a shifter, and Patricia’s boyfriend Lee was a bear shifter. Were they mates? Certainly their attraction had been mutual and immediate, but Andrea didn’t know for sure, and wasn’t willing to risk driving a wedge into what appeared to be a fairy tale romance if Patricia wasn’t Lee’s mate.
Attraction can happen without being mates, she told her hawk firmly. You’re just confused because it’s been a long time since there was anyone in town worth being interested in.
None of her logic could save her when Shaun walked in with Trevor.
He was not wearing a suit, but he may as well have been, he was so neatly pressed and put together. Andrea was keenly aware of her worn jeans and stained t-shirt. She was also keenly aware of her nethers, which were as obnoxiously interested in him as her hawk was. Her whole body seemed to hum with need.
She was trying to decide if her voice would wobble if she offered her usual cheerful good morning, when Trevor spotted her and waved, drawing the attention of his dad.
Andrea had no voice left at all.
Shaun’s gaze was like a shot of sunlight after rain, and Andrea had to force herself not to bolt across the room into his arms.
You don’t even know if you’d be welcome there, she reminded herself with clenched teeth. It had certainly seemed like he was interested in her, but the unceremonious way he had shown her out left her feeling terribly unsure.
We know, her hawk muttered.
She wasn’t the only one who noticed him, either.
“Hel-lo!” trilled one of the mothers dropping off a daughter. Her prominent wedding ring didn’t stop her from eyeing him appreciatively and obviously as she played with her styled hair.
Andrea had to turn away before she rushed to defend what wasn’t even hers. She stalked, instead, to a creative play station being abused by Aaron, one of the other little boys, and knelt to encourage and demonstrate more gentle play.
“You weren’t kidding,” Patricia said, settling beside her as the door jingled behind them with the parents leaving. “Dish indeed!”
The children were oblivious to the reference and Andrea scowled at her friend. “Aren’t you supposed to be staying off of your ankle?”
“I’m sitting!” Patricia insisted with a warm laugh. “See?”
“Can we play stand-and-sit?” Aaron begged.
“If Andrea wants to,” Patricia said with a smile for Aaron and a sly sideways grin for Andrea.
Andrea wanted very different things, but a game of stand-and-sit would distract her for a little while, so she gathered the interested children and started the rowdy singing exercise with them.
Chapter 9
To Shaun’s relief, Trevor was still a little boy in the morning, and didn’t bring up the topic of his unexpected shift.
Shaun watched the boy devour a granola bar and a box of raisins for breakfast. He was going to have to go shopping today as soon as he dropped Trevor off. And bleach the fridge before he stocked it.
“Do you ever wish you were an animal?” he asked leadingly, helping himself to another granola bar.
“I am an animal!” Trevor said enthusiastically.
Shaun froze, oatmeal brick partway to his mouth. “You... are?”
“I’m a dog! A flying dog! I can sniff out danger and bite bad guys!” Trevor began to enthusiastically demonstrate his sniffing, nearly toppling his water glass and scattering raisins.
Shaun’s heart returned to normal and he had to laugh, saving the water glass and retrieving the raisins that had bounced across the table. “Well, get ready for preschool, Puppydog,”
he suggested. “We don’t want to be late.”
Trevor seemed to have no memory of his shift, and Shaun had hope that it was just a one-time thing, brought on by too much stress and uncertainty.
He could not find a good way to determine if Trevor remembered the promise he had coaxed from Shaun. It was an impossible vow, not to like Andrea. But wasn’t he obligated to keep it anyway?
He was desperate to see Andrea again, and dreaded the apology he owed her. How was he going to explain how rude he’d been the night before? How was he going to be able to look at her and not want her more than he’d promised he would?
To his mixed relief, the preschool drop off gave him no opportunity to talk to Andrea at all. She met his eyes briefly, and before Shaun could formulate actual words, she was turning away to save some play equipment from the abuse of one of the children.
He realized belatedly that there was a woman trying to make conversation with him, batting mascara-crusted eyelashes at him.
“I have places to be,” he growled, when his scowl failed to scare her off.
Green Valley had only one all-purpose grocery store, and although it was small and poorly lit, it proved to be unexpectedly well-stocked. Shaun bought a box of trash bags, considered, and dropped another box of them into his cart. Harriette had taken all of her personal belongings, but had left piles of miscellaneous things that he had no interest in keeping.
Industrial-strength cleaner went into the cart, then came out in favor of more child-friendly ‘green’ cleaner. Was Trevor old enough to stay out of toxic things? Shaun frowned. He would have to make sure everything was up out of reach. Should there be covers on the electrical outlets? Or was that only for toddlers?
The produce was an interesting mix of sad-looking imports and beautiful local greenhouse goods. Shaun considered a fat red tomato.
He could make Andrea a fresh spaghetti meal. He could bake bread, if the oven worked, and make sauce from scratch. Kids liked spaghetti, didn’t they? They didn’t have blocks of Parmesan, but the grated stuff would do.
There was a selection of local meat as well, and Shaun frowned over a choice of beautiful steaks. Did the house have a grill? Did Andrea eat meat? For that matter, did Trevor like it?
He realized with a scowl that he was automatically considering Andrea in his meal plans, and took the second steak out of his cart, then put it back in. He could offer her a neighborly dinner without breaking his vow, something to redeem himself as a cook after having to serve her a meal from a box.
“Always take the second steak,” a voice beside him unexpectedly advised.
A plump, gray-haired woman was reaching past him for a package of chicken and she winked at him.
Shaun smiled warily, not sure how seriously to take the wink.
“Big strapping man like you needs his steak,” she teased him. “Now, you must be new here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Shaun said automatically.
She looked at him critically. “You must be Harriette’s ex, Trevor’s dad. Shaun, isn’t it? You’re living in the Reynolds’ old place.”
Shaun didn’t know the origins of the house, but the reminder of Harriette made him frown without comment.
“You’d be right there next to Andrea, then.”
Just the sound of her name made Shaun’s heart rate increase. He growled something vaguely affirmative.
“I’m Marta,” the old woman continued, oblivious. “I live two blocks over, by Gran’s Grits. You’ve been there?”
“To your house?”
Marta laughed. “To Gran’s! Best little restaurant in town. Of course, Harvey’s isn’t much competition. They’ve got a liquor license, though, so they do better business. Andrea works there, you know.”
“At Harvey’s?” Why did the sound of her name reduce him to such idiocy?
Marta chuckled again. “At Gran’s. Waitresses in the afternoons after the preschool. She’s quite the looker, isn’t she?”
Shaun sputtered, utterly incapable of a coherent reply, and found something fascinating to inspect on a package of beef livers.
“No need to be coy with me, young man,” Marta said with spice as she herded him back towards the vegetables and checked the ears of corn that were available, handing him those that passed her inspection and clearly expecting him to put them in his cart. “I know everything that goes on in this town. It’s high time that girl settled down, and I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
As Shaun stared at her in shock, she continued breezily.
“I don’t think much of your taste if you married Harriette, but we all make mistakes when we’re young, and I imagine you figured that one out right fast.”
Shaun was startled into giving a guffaw of laughter. “I did, at that,” he agreed. It was hard not to like Marta, even if she was unnervingly straight-spoken. He reached up and got her a plastic produce bag at her imperious gesture.
She began to fill it with apples, tapping each one next to her ear to check for freshness. “I’m making you a pie, young man,” she declared. “And you be sure to share it with your neighbor, you hear?”
Then she was pushing her squeaking cart away from Shaun, leaving him to bemusedly wander over to select a gallon of milk and a flat of eggs alone.
His smile quickly faded as he remembered his promise to Trevor.
Marta may not have seen a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean he was free to follow his heart.
Chapter 10
“Saw your young man at the grocery store,” Marta told Andrea as she slid into the diner booth and took a copy of the laminated menu.
Andrea blushed.
“He’s not my young man,” she protested.
She thought about how Shaun had smiled at her, and wondered if he could be.
The idea put butterflies in her stomach and fire low in her belly.
Then she remembered how he’d shut the door on her face, and she shook her head.
“What can I get you?” Andrea asked quickly, fishing in her apron pocket for her pad.
“What’s the special?” Marta asked.
Andrea found the pad and flipped it to a new page. “Oh, right. Corned beef sandwich and coleslaw.”
“Does it look good?”
“I had one before my shift and it was the best sandwich Old George has ever made. A little salty,” Andrea said candidly. “Soda machine is still down.”
Marta handed back the laminated menu. “Special and iced tea, with plenty of sugar, like your new neighbor.”
“He’s not my... er... oh.” Whatever else Shaun wasn’t, he was her neighbor.
Marta laughed kindly as Andrea fled with her order.
Andrea had never been so glad of her reputation as an airhead. She managed to mix up refills, and nearly dumped a pitcher of ice cubes into Stanley’s lap; only shifter reflexes enabled her to catch the pitcher after she dropped it. She had to ask one of her customers to repeat their order after she caught herself staring at a bowl of macaroni and cheese, daydreaming about how Shaun had looked with a colander on his head, hamming it up for his son.
Ours, ours, ours, her hawk continued to hum in the back of her head whenever she thought of Shaun, not helping her concentration in the slightest.
She didn’t believe in mates... did she? It was more likely just a heady combination of hormones, wistful loneliness, and an utterly gorgeous new neighbor. She’d have to be stone dead not to be interested in him under normal circumstances, and add to that the fact that she’d been living basically like a nun since she’d come back from college... well, it was no wonder she was weak-kneed when she thought about him.
That made much more sense than magic and destiny.
No matter how much she longed for magic and destiny.
Chapter 11
Shaun wasn’t really watching out of the window for his hot new neighbor. He just happened to notice that all of Andrea’s lights except her porch light were out when he tucked Trevor into bed, and just happened to be si
tting in the most uncomfortable chair in the living room with his laptop where he could see out the window to her front porch. And he just happened to be looking up from the work he was supposed to be doing when she came home, wearing an old-fashioned diner uniform.
The laptop was nearly unseated as he struggled out of the low, poorly-sprung chair with a curse.
It wasn’t that he was desperate to see her again, or have her alone to himself. It was just that he needed her help.
That was all.
He was out on his own porch in a flash, clearing his throat and calling quietly, “Andrea?”
He didn’t want to be too loud and wake Trevor, but Andrea must have good ears, because she paused with her hand on her open door. “Shaun?”
Hearing his name from her lips was a new kind of unsettling. Shaun had to clear his throat again.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said in a rush. “I wanted to get Trevor right up to bed last night, he was so tired, and I was rude with you, I’m sorry. I’m not very comfortable with this being a dad thing yet.”
“Oh!” Andrea said quietly. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Of course I understand.”
Shaun plowed on. “I was also wondering if you know why some of the lights in the house won’t turn on. Trevor had a lot of trouble going to sleep without the hall light on. A lot of trouble.”
“Let me guess,” Andrea pulled her door shut and came to the closest edge of the porch. “He was up seven times, because he was scared, he was thirsty, he had to pee, he couldn’t sleep without the light, he didn’t have the right stuffy, he was itchy, and he wanted one more hug.”
Shaun gave a gruff laugh. “Nailed it. Except that he had to go number two and that took approximately an hour.”
“You might want to try a ticket system,” Andrea said, leaning on her railing. The uniform didn’t show off nearly as much as the previous day’s tank top, but she was still all distractingly stacked curves and easy grace.
“A... ticket system?” Shaun dragged himself back to the conversation.