by Lisa Daniels
They clambered into a small rental car together, with Katie driving, and the two fake lovers were presented a list by Katie, stating ten essential questions they needed to ask of one another, and recommended games so they could get to know each other better. Lena stared at the Calibri font with amusement tweaking up her lips.
“Is your PA always this… efficient?”
“Why do you think I keep her around?” Oskar said, as he leaned back in the seat, no seatbelt, arms splayed on the backrests. His legs were apart in an obvious power stance, but Lena felt a spike of annoyance that he wasn’t bothering to strap himself in, so reached over to tug the belt over his chest. He raised his eyebrows, but made no comment, and she tried not to concentrate on the fact that her hands were brushing over his shirt, likely tickling the skin underneath, or just how close he was. His body moved slightly with hers, and for one wild second, she wondered if he’d grab her and pull her closer.
He didn’t, but the thought that he might have sent hot jolts to her groin. This is how I die, she thought furiously, fighting down a blush. Spontaneously combusting from my own imagination. “Seatbelts are important. I’m sure your PA will agree.”
“I do. He rarely listens.”
“Hmph.” Oskar made to tug off the belt, then seemed to have second thoughts. He twitched a confident smile her way instead, and crooked his finger for Katie’s documents. “Let’s see what questions we’re supposed to ask one another.”
“What’s your favorite color?” Lena deadpanned, as the little rover rental jerked over a speedbump. Not that they were traveling faster than thirty anyway. “Mine’s blue.”
“Orange,” Oskar said, and Lena rolled her eyes, smiling.
“Yeah, because you’re a dragon. Very imaginative.”
“What’s my favorite food…?” Oskar squinted at the list. “This is hardly essentials, Katie.”
“Yes, it is,” Katie said. “It’s those kinds of questions they’ll get you on. Always be prepared.”
“Phaal Curry.”
“Jesus, you like it hot, huh?” And before she could stop herself, she added, “You know, that’s made from the hottest chili in the world, a Bhut Jolokia. They have chili-eating competitions across the world where you have to eat as many of them as possible without dropping out.”
“I did know,” Oskar said, now smiling indulgently, “but it’s cute you know as well.”
Cute? Lena puffed indignantly at that. “Sorry, I tend to get carried away if it’s a subject I know. Do a lot of reading when I’m bored. Which makes sense, given I work in a library which has about three people in its rush hour.”
“Sounds like a nice job.” Oskar was examining the question sheet again, not really paying attention to her.
Did I blow it? Did I come across too strong or nerdy? She fidgeted nervously, suddenly at a loss for words.
“Favorite drink?” he said, his tongue reaching out to wet his bottom lip. She followed the motion religiously, becoming aware of her own dry mouth. “Mine’s Pinot Grigio.”
“Uh, Lindemans Kriek.” A memory of the cherry-flavored beer came to mind. “It’s a Belgian beer, sweet taste. I mean, I’ll drink anything, but I do like the sweetness.”
“Huh.” Oskar took out his phone, and she peeked discreetly to see he was Googling it. “I can’t see how cherry and beer work together as a combination.”
“Try it, and you’ll see. Okay, what’s next…?”
They continued batting through the questions, settling into a light, jovial atmosphere. It might have only been surface-level conversation, no stirring the depths involved, but it was nice to be able to engage with another person this way. Oskar felt less intimidating to her, less like some multi-millionaire fire-breathing monster and more like a person with feelings. She was aware there were some differences between shifters and humans. Shifters were more connected to their primal instincts. They felt strong bonds with their kin and didn’t necessarily all get along.
Dragons, as well, were considered top of the shifter hierarchy, though that was more likely to do with the fact that they transformed into the biggest, meanest creatures possible. Through their casual conversation, Lena wondered just what Oskar looked like in his shifter form. There were no pictures, no videos on the internet of him in anything else other than human form. Though there was footage of other dragons. Some of them tussling with one another over territory, pride, women…
And yes. She’d really rather not piss off a dragon if she could help it. Not unless she wanted to be set on fire in the literal kind.
It was a shame, really, that this whole situation was a lie. But then again, someone like Oskar Wainwright would never have sat next to her if she was truthful, either, so she felt a little conflicted about that. It didn’t bode well for honesty.
In the meanwhile, she had learned Oskar liked to hop on a plane to visit countries officially just to see different locations, and flew around in dragon form where he was licensed to do so. That piece of info fascinated her because it seemed if you flew around without being registered in the country or state, it gave the military a legal reason to shoot you down. So all dragons had a special chip that could be scanned from miles and miles away.
She also learned that growing up with two older brothers didn’t always mean happy times. As the youngest, Oskar found himself subject to a lot of bullying, simply because he was too young to join in with sibling games. He would lose every game they played anyway, because apparently the oldest, Garren, liked to cheat to ensure victory, and Timothy, middle child, wanted to please Garren, so mostly ignored Oskar. All in the space of an eight-minute drive.
“You guys get on now, though, don’t you?”
“We ignore each other and do our own things. Only meet up for special family occasions, and those are always fraught with tension.” Oskar, sprawled in a comfortable way against the back seat, had his right hand inching closing to Lena all the while. Accidental or deliberate? “It’s for the best. Family fights can get very ugly if you’re a dragon. Things tend to burn, and the repair costs are insane.”
“About the most expensive thing I ever damaged was getting water on Pride and Prejudice,” Lena admitted. “Unless you’re counting personal damage due to stupidity.”
“Go on,” Oskar said, seemingly happy for the switch in subject, happy to focus on her. She didn’t expect that: just assumed he’d waffle on about himself like any other guy full of themselves, reducing her to a bobbing-head toy.
“Well, I did set myself on fire once.” She said it in a casual tone, and Oskar’s amber eyes sparked in amusement. Katie’s eyes flicked in the front mirror to examine them both as she took a left turn. “I was trying to be the cool kid at school and smoke a cigarette. I couldn’t figure out the darn lighter; it was a roller and I was too scared or whatever to put the force in it and spark it up. Then my friend Hannah’s like, ‘Do it like you’re clicking your fingers’, and I do, but my hair was in the way, and next thing I know, there’s a mini bush fire raging across my scalp.”
Oskar’s left eyebrow raised up, and he looked like he wanted to smile, but instead said, “Nothing bad happened, right?”
“Not the first time something’s been set on fire around me,” Lena said, before cringing inwardly. No, that sounded way too sexual. She didn’t want to plant the wrong idea. Or ideas. But didn’t I imply I’d want something like this in my profile? She really needed to stop putting those extra nails on her coffin. “I-I mean, my father liked drinking a lot, and alcohol and flames are a thing, too. All I needed was a haircut the next day, after Hannah beat out the flames with her backpack. Which was painful. And probably gave me concussion.”
Katie snorted from the front seat, and Oskar smirked. “I didn’t see smoking in your profile—I guess that incident scared you away from it?”
“Scarred me from it,” Lena admitted with a laugh. “I’ll never look at a cigarette again without thinking about that time I set myself on fire. Saves me about five hundred extra dollars or
more a year, so I’m not complaining.”
“Dragons don’t like smoking too much,” Oskar said then, glancing out the window to see where they were (two streets away from the library in Geevor). “It does something to the way we breathe fire. Makes it feel like we’ve got ash packed in our mouths.”
“Huh.” Lena leaned forward in interest, and almost jolted away in shock when her knee bumped into his, because he’d chosen that exact second to move. She shifted slightly so they didn’t connect, but felt the heat radiating off his leg, so close to hers, and it distracted her enough to give up any attempts at speech.
“Are you okay, there?” Oskar grinned, and something mischievous crept into his expression. “You seem a little hot and bothered.”
“It’s the car,” Lena squeaked. “Stuffy.” Shit, she was blushing, and she knew he’d be able to see it—it wasn’t dark enough outside, or shadowy enough in the car to hide any color changes blotting up her features. He, on the other hand, remained impeccable and unruffled, and it irritated her on a level. Valiantly restoring the conversation, she said, “I just—I never thought smoking would… affect a dragon. Maybe I thought it’d be like a dragon thing to do.”
“I—” Oskar began, but whatever he intended to say, it got lost in a violent turn, causing him and Lena to lurch to the right like ragdolls against their belts.
“We’re here, lovebirds,” Katie said, just before she pressed hard on the brakes, jerking her passengers forward into their restraints. “Pappy’s, Geevor’s favorite eating and drinking spot combined. Seems… charming,” she said with the faint air of someone trying to describe something they thought was hideous as nice. Lena thought the tone a little harsh. Pappy’s did have a nice, rustic charm about it. So what if it looked a little run down, or that the exterior and possibly the interior as well had been unchanged since the late 1800s? That was what gave it that cozy, wild west vibe, after all.
“Were you trying to kill us?” Oskar remarked, unbuckling the belt and rubbing at his chest. “Or give us whiplash?”
“Would I do something like that? Your dedicated and professional PA?” Katie smoothly stepped out of the vehicle, keyring twirling in her finger, before she tucked it away inside a large, black handbag, which looked as though it probably contained an arsenal of personal effects, and several laptops to boot.
Lena examined Pappy’s, which did look a little run down on the outside, but it did have wooden saloon doors for walking in, and a cute, rustic air about it. Half of Geevor was houses, the other half remnants of a bygone age, where frontier settlers like to go, settling down and sipping their hard whiskeys and cheap beers. The thing Pappy’s made that everyone tried was something called a pasty. A Cornish pasty. Another remnant of the tin miners who transferred over from Cornwall, England, seeking fame and fortune elsewhere in the wild west.
She dutifully informed Katie and Oskar of this pertinent information and clapped her hands in glee when realizing Oskar had no idea what a pasty was.
“Okay, hold hands, you two. Act… like you’re a regular couple, and not like you’ve only met each other half an hour before,” Katie said helpfully.
“Right, wouldn’t want to fail our contractual obligation,” Oskar said, holding out a hand for Lena. “Let’s do this. Or we can go for an elbow hold?”
Lena stared at his hand as if it were a snake, her heart suddenly doubling its pace. Right. Date-Monsters and their contracts. The buyer satisfying the request down to the last detail. Oskar was obligated to do everything in his power to make them seem like a real, actual couple. Which meant real, actual holding hands.
Shit.
“I don’t bite,” he joked, smile widening. “Unless that’s a preference of yours.”
“Nope, we’re not going there,” Lena said blithely, grabbing his hand hard before she lost her nerve. “Let’s do this. Do what… I asked for. Yeah. Because I asked for this.”
“Are you saying that for me or to convince yourself?” Oskar said in amusement, walking with her slowly towards the saloon. Meanwhile, all of Lena’s attention culminated at the contact of their hands together, how big and warm his was, and how little shivers of energy rippled up her arm, stirring what felt like her afternoon lunch in her stomach. Oh God, what if she threw up from nerves? Wouldn’t that be quite the sight? Lena Tate, throwing up in front of half the town, unable to stomach her own lie.
Walking inside the saloon made her feel like a spotlight was fixated on her. It wasn’t quite half the town in there, but she knew almost everybody. Most had finished their monotonous daytime shifts and were eating out at Pappy’s. Elderly couples who dressed the same and sat opposite one another in companionable silence. A couple of younger ones visiting after school, some awkward with new dates, others laughing and confident, the kind that made Lena envious.
And… yes. There was Chloe, sitting with her husband, likely doing the same thing Lena was—showing the sights of Geevor. Given that there were only really five things people could do, it was a safe bet Lena would be bumping into Chloe and other former school friends all throughout the week.
“Shit,” Lena said out loud, and when Oskar directed a puzzled look at her, she said, “that’s one of the women I lied to like an idiot.”
Oskar examined Chloe with mild interest, his eyes catching on fire when he saw her werewolf husband.
“Oh… she seems to have something for shifters, too…” He continued to appraise the werewolf, a rather predatory glint in his expression. The werewolf, meanwhile, once again seemed oblivious to everything else.
Katie ushered them to a table, though they were perfectly capable of finding one themselves, and Lena’s pulse jumped erratically when Chloe glanced up, her eyes widening like root beer floats, unable to process what she was seeing. Some of the older ladies who recognized Lena from the library also froze. The spotlight above Lena grew brighter, hotter, and far less comfortable.
“God, I hate small towns,” Katie muttered through a fierce smile. “Inbred, nosy, and seem to know more about each other than even the paparazzi can squeeze out.”
“They’re not all bad,” Lena said, offended, because Geevor was a small town, but it was her small town. “People are always willing to help one another out. And there’s something charming about being able to know most people by their first names.”
“I’m a city dragon through and through, and there’s just too many people to memorize the names of,” Oskar replied, leaning across the white tablecloth to grasp Lena’s hands, and, quick as a cheetah, he brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “And I’m more than a big fish in a small pond. Let’s put on a show, darling,” he breathed, and Lena froze like a startled mammal, going into sensory overload. The unexpected show of public affection had officially killed her. With everyone watching and her own awareness and Oskar looking at her like that and that sudden, tight heat between her thighs, it was all too much, so her brain decided to reduce functions to keep her running.
“Uh,” Lena said intelligently, breath bursting out of her, nerves tying an anxious knot in her guts. “Yes… honey.”
Katie flagged down the waiter-bartender, and Lena rattled off three meat and potato pasties, along with Geevor Tin Beer, which in reality tasted like piss, but all the locals swore by it, and you weren’t considered a true, red-blooded Geevor resident until you’d tried some. Lena managed to regain some of her former confidence, not that she was able to muster up that much to begin with, and managed a nervous giggle, which resembled the sound of a strangled goat.
“Yeah, I’m not going to make it through the night, am I?” she said, and Katie regarded Lena like she was gum stuck to someone’s shoe.
“If you’re not prepared to follow through with your own monumentally foolish decisions, then we can always leave after this, refund, and call it a day.”
“It’s not that!” Lena gushed, fully aware that Chloe was gaping at them like a fish and reinforced then and there that she didn’t want this fiction to slide away. She
kept her voice low, so no one else could overhear. “It’s just—I made the decision really fast, you know. I’d never seriously considered Date-Monsters as something to try out because, well, I’m not exactly the richest person around…” Her cheeks flushed at this admission, because saying you were poor to people like Oskar and Katie was practically like uttering a swear word. These people didn’t do poor. They probably didn’t even understand how and why someone could be poor, with the kind of opportunities they had.
“And I didn’t expect someone to… respond to my request so fast.”
“I understand,” Oskar rumbled, his hands still on Lena’s, and she focused back upon him in surprise. “At least, I understand things spinning out of your control when all you wanted was a nice, straightforward day with no added complications.”
“Yeah,” Lena whispered, slightly in awe at the drawl in his voice, which gave a softness in contrast to his hard exterior. The way he sat, though, straight-backed, chin tilted upward as he surveyed the room and her, gave him such a magnetic presence that it wasn’t surprising that people kept breaking off mid-conversation just to peek at the view over at their table. What would people make of Katie, as well? Unbidden, images of scandalous and threesome popped into her head, because all it took was one out-of-place rumor, and the town would feast upon it, thriving on the drama of other people’s lives, because life in general was so mundane.
Clearing her throat, she added more to her statement, just so she wouldn’t keep staring like a puppet. “I mean, it’s my fault. Completely. Not that anyone likes to admit shitty situations are their fault, just blame the other guy, right?” She grinned, but neither Oskar nor Katie smiled, which added pressure on her to keep talking. “And well, when you come from a place like this, social status is everything. I was cheerleader at school, and people expected a lot of things to come out of me when I graduated. Chloe was head cheerleader, she was the one everyone looked to. Everyone wanted to be her or hated her, everyone knew to go to Chloe’s parties, everyone wanted in on her inner circle.”