by Vella Day
“I love you, Ainsley Chancellor,” he murmured. Her eyelids fluttered, but she remained still.
Then her tail wagged, and her eyes opened. The growl she emitted came out strong and he knew what came next. He jumped up to give her room to shift. Seconds later, she was in her gloriously naked form curled up on the bed.
Jackson returned to her side. “Hey, how do you feel?”
She lifted up on her elbow then glanced down. “Not bad considering.”
“You should rest.”
“What I need to do is take a shower and then find something to eat. I’m starving.”
He smiled. Ainsley was back. He helped her sit up and then held out his elbow to give her some support. She placed her hand on his arm and stood.
“Need help washing?”
“No thanks, but you can keep me company.”
“That I can do,” he said.
She headed into the bathroom. “Tell me what happened before I arrived,” she said.
“When I got there, Connor and the men who had been guarding the stones were being attacked by about seven wolves. I jumped into the fray and injured one of them, but then more wolves showed up. That’s when you arrived.”
She was surprised he didn’t lecture her about how stupid she’d been for rushing in, but if those two wolves hadn’t charged each other at the same time—with her between them—she’d have been fine.
Ainsley stepped into the warm shower. “Ah, that feels good.”
“I bet.”
“Tell me what happened after I kind of passed out.”
Jackson leaned a hip against the vanity. “When you became visible, I picked you up to prevent further injury.”
“You should have stayed and fought.”
He shook his head. “You are more important to me. Besides, the reinforcements had shown up.”
She dipped her head under the water then poured shampoo on top. Once she soaped up and rinsed, she looked over at him. “When I was lying in bed, did I hear you say something super sweet?”
He pushed off from the counter, kicked off his boots, and discarded his pants and shirt. “If you didn’t understand all of it, I’ll be happy to repeat it every day for the rest of your life.” He pulled open the shower door and stepped in.
“What would that be?” she said with a smile on her face.
“That I love you with my whole heart.”
“You do?” Ainsley threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love you too.”
“That right?”
“Yes. Let me get clean first, and then I’ll show you just how much.”
“Deal.” He tried to snap his fingers, but they were too soapy. “I forgot to mention what Kalan told me. The lab analyzed the blood stains on your pink shirt.”
“And?”
“Two patches of blood samples matched the blood on Shamus’s body.”
She stilled. “Are you saying two of the men I killed were responsible for killing him?”
“It looks like it.”
She hugged him again. “That makes me happy, though I’m sad that Shamus was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Very sad.”
As Ainsley rinsed her hair, Jackson insisted on washing her back. Just him touching her, had her wolf roaring to go.
“That feels divine,” she said. “How about we dry off?”
Jackson moved closer. “I’d be happy to dry off every drop of water on your body, or I could just lick it all off for you.” He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it at her.
Ainsley grinned and shook her head at him. “How about we just use a towel. I’d like to get something to eat first though.”
He lifted one eyebrow and grabbed his cock. “I’ll give you something to eat.”
Ainsley’s eyes widened as her body filled with heat and desire. Jackson’s laugh snapped her out of her lustful haze. She grinned, stepped out of the stall, and grabbed a towel. “Did you tell me what happened to the sardonyx? I can’t remember.”
“I didn’t. Rye has it now. To keep everyone safe, he’s not going to tell anyone where it will be hidden either.”
She sighed. “I love the sense of community here, something the Changelings never appreciated. You’re lucky to be part of it.”
“They’re your Clan now too.” He lifted her hair and kissed her neck. “And yes, I am lucky because I found you.”
“No, I’m the lucky one,” countered Ainsley.
*
Three months later
Ainsley was so excited. She couldn’t believe that Elana was pregnant! Ainsley was so happy for her. Last week, Izzy had called her and said she wanted to throw a baby shower for Elana, and that she was registered at Wilson’s Department store.
While Ainsley went shopping to pick out a gift, her heart ached for a family of her own. Jackson would make the absolute best dad, just as soon as he learned not to bring home his work.
So here she was, seated in Elana’s living room along with Teagan, Izzy, Missy, Blair, Rye’s sister, Chelsea, and Anna, the woman who worked at her store. The baby shower presents for Elana were stacked up on top of the coffee table, looking so festive in blues and greens.
Teagan stood and the crowd quieted. “I just want it on the record that I was the first to know Elana was pregnant—even before Elana herself knew. And may I add that this was my first premonition that was for a good event.”
Elana clapped. “When she told me, all the pieces fell together. I’d been feeling ill in the morning, but it didn’t occur to me what it might mean.” She patted her stomach.
“When are you due?” Ainsley asked.
“In about three months. The doctor said the baby could come any time in April.”
She mentally counted backward. “Is that why you didn’t have anything to drink when you came upstairs to check on how the move was going?”
“Yes. I was three months pregnant, but had only just gone to the doctors. I should have mentioned it to you, but I was still overwhelmed at that time.”
Ainsley smiled. “I understand. I’m so happy for you.”
The doorbell rang and everyone looked at Elana, who shrugged. “I didn’t invite anyone else.”
She stood, and when she pulled open the door, Elana sucked in an audible breath. “Brian?”
Izzy jumped up and rushed over, while Teagan stood with her hands clenched at her sides. She definitely looked ready to protect Elana if need be. From what Elana had told her, Brian had decided he didn’t want her in his life and had walked out. If he planned to do her harm, he wouldn’t get far, not with the talent in this room.
Leading Brian into the living room, Elana had the brightest smile on her face. “Everyone, this is my older brother, Brian.” The group murmured their hellos.
His face reddened. “I, ah, brought you a baby gift.” It was a large box wrapped in blue and pink striped paper.
Elana took the gift and set it on the table. “You didn’t have to do that. Come sit down and join us. I am so happy you came.”
“Thanks.” Her brother glanced around, and from the way he was avoiding looking at anyone in particular, he wasn’t feeling all that comfortable.
Elana sat in her over stuffed chair. “I never expected you to take me up on my invitation.”
“My therapist, Dr. Patterson, encouraged me to. The more I thought about what you’d said in your letters, the more I realized how much I wanted to reconnect with you. I’ve never had a family, and there you were, offering me one. I couldn’t say no. So, I packed up my things in Ohio and moved down here to Silver Lake.”
Elana reached out and grabbed his hand. “You moved here?”
He nodded. “Well, I’m at the hotel for now until I find a place to stay. I want to make sure my niece or nephew knows he’s loved.”
Elana pushed up from her seat, leaned over Brian, and hugged him. Ainsley couldn’t be more excited for her. After Elana lost her parents, she’d thought she had no more family—until Brian came
into her life.
“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me feel,” Elana said. “In fact, the last tenant who lived above the flower shop recently moved out.” She then glanced over at Ainsley and winked. “I’d love for you to live there.”
Brian smiled. “You sure?”
“I’ll introduce you to the landlord. I’m sure he’ll agree once I put in a good word for you.”
“That would be great.” He nodded to the presents. “Aren’t you supposed to open them?”
Everyone laughed. The joy had begun.
Ainsley smiled, but her heart was beating a bit too fast. Brian Stanley wasn’t who he claimed to be. He was definitely not Elana’s brother.
The End
*
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I hope you enjoyed Ainsley and Jackson’s story. Up next is HER RELUCTANT BEAR. It’s Brian’s story along with Jillian Garner, Dalton’s sister. Here is a sneak peek of the first chapter.
Chapter One
When hired stripper Sergeant McDirty swiveled his hips in front of the dark haired the bride-to-be, his rotating pelvis failed to match the beat of the sensual music. Given how far the other women’s tongues and eyeballs were hanging out, Jillian Garner was pretty sure none of the women even noticed.
Jillian just shook her head. Sure the hunk was hot. Not only did he have a nice smile, he possessed slim hips and had shoulders packed with muscles, but he did nothing for her inner tiger. Not that this was about her. Her college roommate, Renee Williams, and fellow coworker at her law firm was getting married, and Jillian couldn’t be happier for her.
As Renee stuck dollar bill after dollar bill down the man’s G-string, her older sister Camille who worked Vice at the Los Angeles Police Department (or LAPD for short) shouted, “Go Renee!”
It was good to see the defense attorney loosen up, something Renee hadn’t done in the last few years. It wasn’t until Richie had entered her life that she’d decided to slow down and smell the roses, so to speak.
As for Jillian, Los Angeles had wound her tighter than any Swiss watch, but she wasn’t looking for someone to help her slow down. She was fine the way she was.
“Jillian,” Camille said nudging her arm. While Renee wore her dark hair short, Camille preferred her light brown hair shoulder length. She claimed it softened her appearance and made it easier for witnesses to relate to her.
When Jillian glanced up, Sergeant McDirty was thrusting his tiny maroon pouch at her. Oh my. The women, who were packed into Camille’s tiny, but modern, living room apartment, clapped and cheered, waiting for Jillian to deposit the two dollars she’d been clutching for the last half hour into his package. She was thirty-two, much too old to be doing this sort of thing, especially with a guy who didn’t look old enough to drink. For Renee’s sake though, Jillian tossed him her best smile and jammed the bills inside careful not to let her fingers touch his skin while at the same time not dislodging the mass of bills already crammed into the tiny space.
“Thank you!” He graced her with his perfect smile and thankfully moved on.
Camille leaned over. “Dalia would have loved all the fanfare.”
“She absolutely would have.” During college, Dalia had been the wild one of the three, but ironically, she was living her dream of studying nature in Oregon. Nature, she claimed, calmed her right down. Jillian sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit. I told her I’d take pictures but I forgot. I’ve been distracted.”
“Haven’t we all?” Camille winked.
Jillian chuckled then whipped out her cell. Pressing the camera’s video button, she recorded the stripper gyrating and thrusting hips in front of his next victim. Jillian made sure to include the three egg tempera paintings above the teal blue sofa that Camille had painted. One of the smaller ones was of a richly colored iguana feasting on a plump red fruit. The one below it was the face of a wolf whose eyes glowed yellow. The delicate interweaving of the grays, tans, white, and black in his fur blended together to create a striking image. The last picture was as tall as the two together. It was a magnificent scene of a white polar bear with her two cubs floating on a slab of ice.
Jillian continued her slow pan to include several women who Dalia had never met. Even as she recorded the festivities, Jillian felt guilty coming to the party when Dalia had flown all the way in from Portland to attend Renee’s bachelorette party, only to have come down with the flu.
Jillian gladly would have stayed home and played nursemaid, but Dalia instead she attend—if for no other reason than to take pictures. With her eye on the screen, Jillian panned the crowd, making sure to include everyone.
“She’ll appreciate seeing Renee so happy,” Camille said.
“Definitely.” Renee, Dalia, and Jillian had roomed together freshman and sophomore year. “Dalia’s here for another few days, so I’m hoping the three of us can get together.”
“Renee would love that. She was so disappointed when she found out Dalia couldn’t make it.”
One of the ladies approached them, or rather staggered toward them, with a big bottle of champagne and refreshed everyone’s glass. Good thing Jillian’s shifter metabolism could handle this massive influx of alcohol. Otherwise, she’d have to call a cab to drive her home.
Mercifully, around one a.m., the hired hunk said his farewells. While Jillian had enjoyed watching the drunken women paw over Sergeant McDirty, she was increasingly worried about Dalia. Her friend hadn’t texted even once to ask about the party. Dalia’s fever had come down to almost normal before Jillian had left, but those kinds of things could change in a heartbeat.
Just as she was about to tell Camille that she was heading out, her friend jumped up and rushed over to Renee whose eyes had rolled back in her head. Clearly, the bride-to-be had partied way too hard. Good for her, though she’d be sorry tomorrow when the hangover hit.
Convinced no one would even remember she’d been the first to leave the festivities she helped organize, Jillian slipped out.
Fortunately, her house was only a fifteen-minute drive from there. As Jillian entered her neighborhood, she had to smile at how wonderful the get together had been. Camille, who dealt with crime all day, had been more relaxed than Jillian had seen her in months. Several of the other women at the party also worked in her same law office. Seeing another side of their uptight and ambitious personalities was something she would not soon forget.
As Jillian rounded the corner to her house, what sounded like gunshots came from her house! What the fuck?
Even though she lived was on the outskirts of Los Angeles, crime was rare in her upscale neighborhood. Pressing hard on the accelerator, she sped toward her driveway. As she neared, a man wearing a ski mask dashed out of her house through the front door. He looked straight at her before turning and charging fifty feet down the road. He then disappeared into a maroon sedan and peeled out of there, leaving burnt rubber in his wake.
Her heart raced so hard, she thought she’d shift—something she hadn’t done or considered doing in years. She couldn’t afford for anyone to find out what kind of freak she was. Hell, the world wasn’t ready to learn about shifters, especially her very rare kind of white tiger.
Her focus returned to her sick friend asleep in the house. Dalia! Oh my goddess. Had she been shot? That was the only plausible conclusion, but logic had failed her before.
Decision time: Follow him or check on her friend?
What am I thinking? It’s a no brainer. Dalia comes first.
Jillian could only hope that he’d left enough evidence for the cops to find the bastard. If he harmed her friend, she’d do whatever it took to find make him pay.
After cutting the engine, she jumped out of her Mercedes, not even bothering to pull into her driveway. Because it was so late, she used her Wendayan talent to sprint almost as fast as a speeding bullet, hoping no one noticed the super human feat.
The
front door sat open. Acid burned in her stomach.
“Dalia?” Jillian yelled as she rushed in. When she received no response, her legs nearly gave way. Mouth dry and pulse soaring, her stomach performed a million somersaults as she ran to Dalia’s bedroom. The stench of that man’s scent permeated the air and put a momentary block on her working brain. Memories came flooding back even though she tried to force them away. Something other than his scent overpowered her—something terrible. It was blood!
The door to Dalia’s room sat wide open, and while the light was off, enough moonlight snuck in through the window to show the devastation.
“No!” Jillian screamed then choked out a sob.
As much as she didn’t want to turn on the light, she had to see the extent of the injury. When she flicked on the lamp, Jillian gasped as one knee hit the floor. The side of Dalia’s skull had a hole in it, the blood staining her long blonde hair. Jillian’s heart stopped for a few seconds. While it appeared as if her friend was dead, she checked for a pulse anyway. Unfortunately, her own heartbeat was near to bursting, preventing her from detecting any signs of life.
Her instincts clicked in, and she fumbled in her purse for her cell to call 911. The words to describe what happened barely formed on her lips, but the operator assured her help was on the way.
This couldn’t be happening. Jillian’s front door had been locked, and she doubted Dalia would have answered if someone had knocked. Had he busted in? Or was he more sophisticated than that and had picked the lock?
Grief rocked her as tears streamed down her face. It was déjà vu all over again. Twenty-six years ago an unwanted shifter had broken into her home and shot and killed her father. She’d seen the killer then, and she’d sort of seen him now—or rather she’d smelled him again. The stress of both murders made her whole body feel as if a ten-ton truck was sitting on her, breaking her bones into tiny pieces.
The image of the man with the crescent-shaped scar that she’d seen this afternoon at the police station appeared in her mind’s eye. Jillian had spotted him when she’d stopped in to see Camille. Because Jillian had helped with the party preparations, she needed to discuss some last minute details with her friend. Halfway through her conversation, the same stench that permeated her house now registered. It had come from the man who’d killed her father. She’d been sure of it. Working hard not to let Camille know what was happening, Jillian had glanced around. Big mistake. The second she spotted the man’s crescent-shaped scar on his jaw, she’d almost shifted. Then reason intruded. The man was a cop for goddess sake.
