by Anna Lowe
“How are you going to get Joey back on the bike?” Tim pointed out.
“We’ll get the keys from Chase and drive back.”
See? his wolf insisted. Easy.
But there was nothing easy about hopping on the bike with Cynthia. Not with the rift that had grown between them in the past twelve years. Kissing her the previous night could be forgiven, because they’d both been worked up. Not only that, but the moonlight had been shining directly on them, making their shifter sides lose control. This was totally different.
Tim nodded. “Oh, right. You mean, Chase can ride your bike back later?”
Cal shook his head. No one rode that bike but him. “We’ll swap back later.”
Whatever, his wolf grumbled, impatient to go.
Cynthia stared at him so intently, her eyes started to glow.
Yeah, he knew how she felt. She was dying to get close again, just like he was. But she was terrified, too. Keeping their distance was safer than wandering into the minefield of the past, and resenting was easier than forgiving. Did he really have what it took? Did she?
When Cynthia finally spoke, her voice was so quiet, Cal almost missed it.
“All right.” A moment later, she added, “If you don’t mind.”
Cal grinned. That’s my girl.
His reply was a mumble, because he was trying to dampen his own hopes. “I don’t mind at all.”
* * *
Minutes later, they were zooming down the coastal highway, though Cal had to pinch himself to check if it was real or the dream he’d used so often to remain sane. But those really were Cynthia’s arms around his waist, and that really was her chin resting on his shoulder.
For the first mile, she tried to keep some distance between their bodies, exactly as she had after her car had broken down on the side of the road in the Adirondacks. But trying not to touch was hopeless, and they both knew it. For one thing, the angle of the seat made her body slide against his. And old habits were hard to break, even if they pretended not to think about the intimacy they had once shared.
Eventually, Cynthia gave in to the inevitable, and her arms grew ever more comfortable around his waist. Cal wished the ride to town were longer so he could stretch out that glorious feeling. He couldn’t see the long, silky strands of her black hair whipping in the wind, but he could sense all that movement back there. All that excitement too. Cynthia felt it. He felt it. And damn, it was almost like they had a third passenger: destiny.
A thousand scents bombarded him as they buzzed along – some exotic, some familiar. The rose-and-willow scent of Cynthia’s skin blended with that of giant pink flowers that grew on the side of the road. A green bird flitted by, brighter than any animal Cal had ever seen. The Triumph cruised past two young guys in a beat-up old Toyota with a pair of surfboards sticking out the back. It was as if all of Maui was trying to cheer him up, saying, Hey, you’re in Hawaii now. Hang loose, man.
Then, out of nowhere, Cynthia motioned to a beach park on the right.
“Pull over.”
Cal glanced back, wondering why she had tensed up. But he did as he was told and pulled into the parking lot. Then he turned expectantly.
Cynthia’s face was etched with worry lines, and her eyes were downcast when she whispered, “We have to talk.”
The surfers cruised their Toyota into the parking lot just as Cynthia said talk, and for a moment, Cal had the crazy impulse to pretend he hadn’t heard. Talking was scary, because words were tied to emotions, and behind them loomed a mountain of hurt.
But Cynthia motioned him to move the bike a little farther along, stopping under one of those picture-perfect palm trees that featured on postcards. The kind with happy lovers under the swaying fronds, not couples who had been ripped apart then thrown back together by a tempest called fate.
“We have to talk,” she said again.
Briefly, Cal considered reminding her about picking up Joey. But that would be a cheap ploy to avoid a talk, and Cynthia was right. They needed this. So when she slid off one side of the bike, he dismounted off the other. That left the bike standing silently between them, representing the wall that had grown up between them over the years.
Her lips quivered, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. He cupped her face, brushing it away with his thumb.
“I’m so confused,” Cynthia whispered. Then she bit her lip and looked him in the eye. “Why?”
He tilted his head. Why what?
“You said you loved me.”
Cal gave a jerk of a nod. “Of course I do.”
Oops. He’d meant to say I did — past tense.
Cynthia’s eyes flashed with dozens of emotions, all mixing and colliding the way his were.
“I can understand why you left. I had to marry Barnaby, and I told you to go. But…” Her voice faltered, and her eyes burned with tears. “But when I heard you went off with Sheila…”
Cal’s mind spun. What was she talking about?
“How could you?” Cynthia blurted.
“How could I what?”
Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, because Cynthia’s eyes sparked in anger.
“I was forced to accept Barnaby. But no one forced you to head straight into the arms of another woman the minute you left me.”
Whoa. He stuck a hand on the Triumph’s fuel tank while the world around him spun. Cynthia thought he’d gone off with some other woman? Why would he do that?
“I…what?” Anger boiled up in him, and sentiments he’d never meant to utter came bubbling out. “You were the one who married another guy. Do you know what that did to me, knowing you were with someone else? Night after night…” He trailed off because the thought made him sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have come to Maui, after all.
“It wasn’t night after night.” Cynthia glared.
“It was twelve years. Twelve.” Cal snorted. “And you’re accusing me of going off with someone one time?” He was going to add that he’d done no such thing, but Cynthia cut in.
“Believe me, Barnaby was about as enthusiastic about mating as I was. We had separate bedrooms. Separate lives.”
Cal made a face. “And that’s how Joey came about, I suppose?”
She glared. “I slept with Barnaby twice, Cal. Twice in nine years. And believe me, it was all business. Business that made me feel sick. Ashamed.”
“Right. Like any guy married to you would be fine with just once or twice. There’s no need to make Barnaby into a goddamned saint.”
“I never said he was a saint.”
“Then what are you saying?”
She paused as if on the cusp of some great secret, her eyes darting from side to side. Then she leaned in to whisper.
“Barnaby was gay, Cal. Gay.”
The words rang through Cal’s mind, but somehow, he couldn’t quite grasp their meaning. “What?”
She looked around again as if a member of her nutty family might be eavesdropping. “I said, Barnaby was gay.”
“Gay?”
Cal’s jaw dropped. He would never, ever have guessed. But suddenly, it made sense. A slightly older dragon who’d put off mating as long as he could, even when it came to a woman as desirable as Cynthia. A man who’d only touched her to do what the family line required.
“It was just as hard for him as it was for me,” Cynthia said, choking up again. “But he was good to me. And he was a great father. He loved Joey more than anything.” Cynthia looked as if she might cry, but she straightened her shoulders and composed herself. “I hated what I had to do. But no one forced you to take off with another woman. We promised we would always keep our love alive even if we couldn’t be together. Why did you break your word?”
Cal nearly yelled in protest. But the past decade had taught him a lot, like when to keep his mouth shut and think.
“I didn’t go off with anybody,” he said at last. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cynthia scowled. “You deny it?”<
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He just looked at her, letting his eyes do the talking. He’d never, ever touched another woman after meeting Cynthia. He’d never been the slightest bit tempted to do so. Why would he? Cynthia was his mate. There was no one else for him, and there never would be.
Cynthia searched his face, and when she spoke, the hard edge of her voice had faded slightly. “Sheila. They told me you went off to Sheila.”
Finally, a lightbulb went off in Cal’s head. “My aunt? Yeah, I did head down to visit her after you said goodbye. Way down in Georgia, just to get away.”
Cynthia gaped. “Your aunt? But… They told me…”
“Who told you?”
Cynthia’s eyes wandered over the beach, but he could tell her mind was on the past, grasping at foggy memories. “I asked my cousins to find you and pass on a message. To tell you how much I loved you, one more time. But they came back, saying you’d gone off to a woman named Sheila.”
“And you believed them? You jumped to the conclusion that there was someone else?”
For a moment, Cal teetered on the razor’s edge of fury and forgiveness. How could Cynthia believe such a thing?
But he finally had a chance to talk to the woman he loved — maybe even a chance to patch things up. So he held his breath and counted to ten before speaking again.
“Who told you that?”
“My cousins.” Cynthia tapped her fingers as she thought. “Presley and… Presley and…” Realization flashed over her face as her voice broke off. “Presley and Moira.”
The name came out like poison, and Cal recoiled.
“Moira? And you believed that, coming from her?”
Cynthia paled. “I always thought Presley was okay. And Moira…” The fingers tapping on her arm took on the distinctive curve of talons as her dragon side showed. “Moira was different back then.” She made a face. “Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe I just hadn’t realized how cruel she was at that point.”
Cruel didn’t begin to describe Moira. The woman was evil – pure evil. But if Cal really thought about Cynthia’s story, it made sense. Back then, Moira hadn’t started her steep rise to power. No one could have predicted she would become anything more than a nasty third cousin the family tended to ignore.
Cynthia hugged herself tightly, but that didn’t hide the tremble in her arms. “At the time, the only thing that stuck in my mind was that you’d gone off to see a woman. I didn’t think about who told me that.”
“Well, I guess they weren’t exactly lying. I did go visit my aunt Sheila.”
“The way they said it was a lie. And God, I believed it.” Cynthia’s shoulders crumpled. “It’s my fault. God, it’s all my fault.”
Cal figured he could agree with Cynthia and make things worse, or he could reach deep down and be a man about it all. He went with the latter, coming around the bike to wrap his arms around Cynthia while she shook and cried. Every muscle in his body worked at it — holding Cynthia tight but not too tight, all the while wishing he could strangle Moira. But there was a time and a place for everything, and this was the time to hold his mate.
My love, his wolf whispered again and again.
For the past decade, he’d lived in a cloud of hurt and hate. Holding Cynthia didn’t make the pain go away, but his anger receded, at least for a while. It was a little like when he’d first arrived on Maui – disembarking the plane, feeling all that sunshine. That nice, warm temperature, working its way to his core.
“Cal,” Cynthia whispered, stroking his chest.
The surfers had to have been on their fourth or fifth wave by the time Cynthia stopped crying. But, hell. Cal didn’t care how long it took. He could stand there holding her all day. But then the reason they’d set out hit him, and he stiffened.
“Joey…”
Cynthia wiped her eyes, still sniffling. “Oh God. I’m such a bad mother.”
Cal shook his head. “Don’t you say that. I’ve seen you with him. You’re a great mother, Cynthia. All that cuddling, all those bedtime stories…”
He shut up before she caught onto the fact that he had always been nearby, protecting them both. So near, yet so far.
He cleared his throat gruffly and turned to the bike. “Anyway, you’re right. We ought to get him.”
Cynthia studied him too closely for comfort. But finally, she wiped her face and nodded. “God. I’m a mess.”
He tipped her chin up and flashed a weak smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Their eyes locked, and a slideshow of every moment he had ever shared with Cynthia, good and bad, flashed through his mind. And not only that, but images of a future he never thought he would have. Dangerous territory, in other words.
Quickly, before he got all mushy on her — or worse, kissed her, because who knew where that might lead — he slid onto the bike and kicked the engine to life. Then he nodded her onto the back, having had all the talking one lone wolf could handle for a while. Thankfully, Cynthia mounted in one practiced move, and a moment later, they were humming down the highway with her hanging on even more snugly than before.
Just like old times, his wolf whispered, tempting him to hope. To dream. To have his heart broken all over again?
Cal took a deep breath and pretended to concentrate on the road.
Chapter Nine
Lahaina wasn’t far enough to allow Cal’s heart to settle down again but, hell. They would need to cross an entire continent for that.
He slowed, passing the town limits sign, and followed Cynthia’s directions when the road forked. Before long, they were cruising down Front Street, the main drag of the historic town. Rows of two-story buildings lined the sidewalks, each painted a different color. Cynthia waved him into a parking space and motioned up at a green building with a balcony along the upper floor. An old-fashioned wooden sign hung over the sidewalk identifying The Lucky Devil and pointed upstairs.
The sign was decorated with a skull and crossbones, with a pair of red horns drawn on the skull. Cal raised his eyebrows in a question, but Cynthia just sighed.
“You’ll see.”
Chase stood at the door, doing a good job of flashing an expression that any man would interpret as Don’t even think about messing around in here and any woman would read as You’ll be safe with us. And though his face registered surprise at the sight of Cal and Cynthia, Chase let them both in without a word.
The creaky wooden stairs and malty aroma reminded Cal of one of the more questionable bars he’d brought Cynthia to once upon a time, where they had headed to a room upstairs, giggling and sweaty after an hour of dancing, ready for a little one-on-one.
Cynthia stumbled over the next stair, caught herself, and glanced back at him, blushing deeply. Cal hid a grin. Apparently, she remembered too.
He steadied her, and they continued upstairs. The corridor was dim, but the sunshine flooding in from above beckoned them on, as did the scent of frying bacon.
His wolf licked its lips. I like it already.
A bright, bubbly woman met them at the door with a menu. “Welcome to the Lucky Devil.” Her voice faltered. “Oh — hi, Cynthia.” Then she spotted Cal, and her voice dropped to a low, sultry purr. “And hello to you too.”
“Hello, Candy.” Cynthia stepped past the hostess, pulling Cal by the hand.
Cal was glad Cynthia’s firm grip gave him the excuse to hurry past the hostess — one of those overeager women who was already undressing him with her eyes. He turned his arm slightly, making sure she got a good look at his scars. Unfortunately, Candy didn’t seem turned off. On the contrary, she scurried after him.
“Can I get you a table? You’ve still got half an hour to catch brunch.”
“We’re just here to pick up Joey.” Cynthia’s tone said Go away in bold and underlined. Then her eyes fixed on someone at the bar, and her gaze softened to one mothers reserved for their offspring.
“Joey…”
Cal scanned the funky bar. Colorful signal flags h
ung from the rafters, and black-and-white photos of Lahaina’s frontier days decorated the walls. The pirate/devil theme was everywhere, but not as overdone as it might have been. And the view — well, wow. The Lucky Devil stood right at the edge of the ocean, and all that turquoise water was a sight to behold.
Dell was behind the bar, jabbering a mile a minute and flashing his trademark grin. His hands moved in a blur, juggling five or six glasses while he told a long-winded joke. Joey was perched on one of the stools at the end of the bar, listening to a grizzled fisherman spin a yarn.
Cynthia’s breath caught, and Cal saw all the terrible images her mind conjured up. The old man had to be an alcoholic, regaling Joey with all kinds of inappropriate stories, right?
He tightened his grip on her hand, reminding her to keep her composure as she rushed forward.
“Joey,” she called in a voice laced with fake calm.
“Mommy!” The little redhead waved.
Cal followed as Cynthia strode up to the pair, crossing her arms to give the old man a clear signal that Mama Bear was there and on high alert. But her steps slowed as she got close, and her expression changed from one of anxiety to surprise.
“Bruce is teaching me checkers,” Joey announced.
Warmth crept back into Cynthia’s eyes, because Joey was fine. And Bruce, despite haggard features that spoke of a few too many drinking binges over the years, appeared to be on his best behavior for the kid.
“He’s a quick learner, this one.” Bruce patted Joey on the back. “Beat me twice already.”
Cynthia’s eyes scanned the area, no doubt searching for evidence of gambling or some other sin. But it truly was just checkers. A perfectly harmless, innocent game. And hey, Joey seemed to be having a good time.
“Hiya, Cynth,” Dell called, making her cringe.
“Cynthia,” she sighed, drawing out each of the syllables.
Dell went on without taking notice. “Nice to see you. We’ve been having a great time. Right, Joey?”
Joey jerked his head up and down like one of those wobbly toys people kept in their cars, making Cal’s heart melt. Such a good kid. If only he could have a little more freedom.
