by Em Ashcroft
She gasped. “It wasn’t? I mean, I read the reports online, but they said that arson was being investigated, not that it was sure and certain.”
He nodded. “It’s sure and certain. Somebody wanted to get to the woman who lived here then.”
“Is she all right?” A woman had died in the fire, she knew that much.
“More than all right. She reopened her store farther up the street, closer to the police station. That’s because she married the police chief and the fire chief. They like her close.” He grinned. “I’d say I’ve never seen people more in love, but I have. It’s an epidemic around here.” He nodded to the box he’d just laid down. “You’ll do fine with these. Many people in these parts like a few toys to liven up bedtime.”
“When they have two men to keep them happy?” Did she just say that aloud?
Fuck, yes she had, because his eyes lit up when he smiled. “Even two men like a little variety from time to time. Or so I’ve heard.”
His name was Black. The shape-shifters around here were called Goldclaw, and most shape-shifters had names that were more descriptive of the animal that was their other nature. That meant he was probably not a shifter. She almost felt relieved the first person she’d met here was human. This change in her life was more than a career change. She’d decided to make a complete break with her life, to change direction completely. What better than to move to a place that contained not only people she didn’t know, but a species she wasn’t familiar with?
While shape-shifters and humans were much closer than they’d been before, they still weren’t completely comfortable together. Until human women had become capable of mating with shape-shifters, there’d been no need, but that new ability, plus the dearth of shape-shifter females, had forced the change.
“So you don’t know?”
His smile broadened. “Does a man have to be a shape-shifter to enjoy sharing?”
Her heart plummeted. Well, she sure couldn’t ask the question that popped into her head, not straight out, or he’d know she was interested. “Are you gay?” She clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified that the words had escaped her.
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Well, hell. What if I was?” he said once he’d recovered.
“It would be none of my business. I’m sorry, I don’t know what made me say that.” Embarrassed, but for a different reason this time, she turned away. “Thanks for helping. Are you coming again tomorrow? Is there anything more to do from your end?”
“Nope, I was just checking things over before you arrived. I meant to be gone when you got here.” He moved closer to her. “I’m glad I wasn’t.” His voice softened. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. I thought I’d get some take out or something.”
“I can do better than that.”
What, did he think she’d just go off with him somewhere? She hadn’t lived for years in the big city without learning a few things. “I don’t know you that well.”
“Yes you do.” He touched her hand, grazed it and let his hand drop.
His touch electrified her. Startled, her gaze flew to his face, and met a pair of gray eyes that were widened with surprise. “That was interesting,” he said. “Want to try that again?”
“I—” Like a coward, Reilly backed off. “Was it static electricity?” That was what it must have been. She glanced down at the floor, but it was polished wood, just like she’d asked for.
“Nope.” He tilted a foot, and showed the leather sole of his battered cowboy boot. “No rubber here.” He lifted his gaze, his attention going to the box. They shared a grin. She just couldn’t help it. When he smiled, so did she. “And I wasn’t suggesting that I drive you miles into the countryside where I could do what I wanted to you. Although that could be mighty tempting in the right circumstances.” She got the feeling he didn’t mean anything sinister by that, but she knew better than to trust her feelings. “I meant,” he went on, “that there’s a great diner across the street. Allow me to introduce you to it.”
The air left her lungs in a whoosh. “That would be nice.” More than nice. She wasn’t looking forward to a few cartons of takeout in her hotel room with the TV for company. She’d spent too long in her own company recently. Discovering a good diner was always a plus to her. “Do they do peach cobbler?”
“If there’s any left.” He laughed. “They make great desserts, and they don’t hang around long. Come on, let’s find out.” He grabbed his hat and perched it on his head, effortlessly achieving the right angle for it. He looked even more delectable in it.
He reached out, as if to take her hand, and then dropped it before they made contact. So he was wary, too. He opened the door for her instead.
Reilly got out her bunch of keys, pleasure swelling through her as she set the alarm and locked the door to the store behind them. Tomorrow she’d get busy arranging everything.
“Do you have somebody to help you?” He crossed the street a fraction ahead of her, as if to protect her from traffic. The light was dwindling now, heading toward a beautiful rose-tinged sunset. The clouds were lit with fire. A few vehicles were parked by the boardwalks on either side, mostly pickups, high end by the looks of them.
“In the store?” She climbed up the two steps and paused to glance back. There it was, the sign and everything. Without thinking, she took out her phone and snapped a picture. “O’Neill’s Tigers,” the sign above the store proclaimed in bold, flowing script. “Not yet. I’ll get an assistant when I know what custom is like.”
“You’ll make more the longer you stay open.” He opened the door to the diner. A few people looked up, and nodded to them. He nodded back. “Is this booth okay?” He gestured to a booth set opposite the door. If they spoke quietly, nobody would overhear them. She liked that.
She took a seat and waited for the waitress to arrive, which she did promptly, handing the menus over. She didn’t wear a uniform as such, but her plaid shirt and jeans proclaimed the nature of the place. The little frilled apron over the top added a whimsical touch. “I was just going home, but you’re always my favorite customer, Brennan. What can I do for you today?” Her flirtatious grin was followed by a wink.
He whipped off his hat and put it on the seat next to him. “Don’t think I don’t know you say that to everybody, Jobeth.” He glanced at Reilly. “This is the new owner of the boutique across the street, Reilly O’Neill.”
Jobeth, a busty blonde of around thirty with bright green eyes, gave Reilly a friendly grin. “Then I guess we’re neighbors. The name of your store’s pretty intriguing. Are you selling tigers? I don’t know if anybody told you but we have a few of them around here already.”
Reilly shook her head and laughed. “No, I’m planning to open a souvenir store. Since Goldclaw opened up to the public, it’s become quite a tourist spot. People can come here from Houston and get back home again in a day, so it’s a great place for a day out.” Best not to mention the other business until she had her feet under the table.
Jobeth smiled. “My, you have done your research. Yes, we get a lot of visitors these days. What with the ranch turning itself into a bridal center, and the bus stopping on Main Street, we’ve been doing pretty well. So what are you selling? Are you going luxury or tacky?”
Reilly didn’t like any of her precious stock being described as tacky but she had to admit some of it was a bit on the edge. “I’ve got stuff for all tastes, from simple notebooks and postcards, to collector’s items. Many of them are tiger themed.”
“Interesting.” Jobeth sounded anything but interested, and she turned her attention back to Brennan. Reilly couldn’t blame her, with a specimen like him sitting sprawled across the seat opposite her. “What can I get you?”
“Burger,” Reilly said at once. “With everything. I’ve been traveling all day, and this is just what I need. Hold the onions, with salad, please.”
“I’ll take the same,” Brennan said.
“Without onions?”
Jobeth asked as if she’d never heard of such a thing. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”
“Sure.” Brennan handed her the menu, and Reilly followed suit.
She shouldn’t indulge, but surely she’d done enough work to earn herself a treat.
They chatted as they waited for the food to arrive, and discovered they had some things in common. “Superhero movies?” He gave her one of his lazy grins. “Count me in. Those dudes work so hard for their happy ending.”
“With kick ass moves.”
He chuckled. “And skin tight costumes.”
“Is that why you like them?”
He made a scoffing sound. “Nah. I like my women real. I’m never sure how much of the body under that suit is real or not.”
She laughed. “And you live in a place where people turn into wild animals?”
He leaned forward, resting his arms on the Formica surface. “That’s different. And they’re not always so wild. It depends what they want to do. Be nice, smile, say good morning, and most of the time they’ll walk right on by.”
Nervously, she swiped her tongue over her dry lips. His attention flicked down to her movement, and when he met her gaze again, his eyes were warmer. “You mean they don’t go around routinely killing poor humans who dare to upset them?”
“You just never know. That’s why it’s so exciting living here.”
She glanced out the window on to the street. Night had fallen, softly embracing the street outside, the lights adding a warm glow to the scene. “It doesn’t look so exciting right now.”
“That can change any minute.” He leaned back as Jobeth returned. She placed the burgers in front of them and added the salad, Reilly’s concession to health. The tall glasses of cold water chinked, and the black coffee Brennan had added to his order sent a spiral of steam into the air.
“Won’t that keep you awake?” Reilly nodded to the coffee.
“It’ll take more than a bit of caffeine to stop me.” From his half-smile she guessed what he meant. The double meaning didn’t escape her, but she didn’t ask what would stop him.
She loved his company, though she wasn’t sure if he was just a charmer, or if there was something more substantial behind the sexy exterior. But for now, sexy worked fine. For the first time since forever, Reilly relaxed and just enjoyed herself.
The burger was delicious. It tasted home-made, thick and freshly cooked, perfect for her. Even the pickle tasted better, and she didn’t miss the onions at all. “Why no onion for you?” she asked him between bites.
He sucked his forefinger, savoring the taste. “Because onion is a sociable thing. Either you both have it or you both don’t.”
“But we’re not—” She cut off the word together and went back to her meal. Of course they weren’t, but to say so might not be the best idea. Partly because she wanted it.
Why shouldn’t she want him? As she munched, she watched him, thinking about it. She’d never done anything so rash as sleep with a man the same day she met him, but she was sure considering it now.
Goldclaw Construction had finished work on her store, but they’d still be around working on the one at the end of the block. Brennan had said he’d only come to give the property a last look over. That meant there’d be no awkward next day if it didn’t work out tonight.
Was she really thinking about doing this?
After taking another appreciative look at him, she nodded. Sure she was, he was too good a prospect to let go. If he wanted to date, she wouldn’t object to that, although she’d be busy for quite some time ahead. Still, a girl had to eat sometime.
Regretfully, she took the final yummy bite and picked up the napkin to clean her hands before turning to the salad in a regretful way. This was her penance for the burger. Usually she enjoyed salad, but after that feast, nothing would be as good.
“You look as if you’re really enjoying that.” He had a bite of his burger left, as he attacked his fries, dipping it in what looked like homemade ketchup. Her mouth watered, but it wasn’t because of the stalk of lettuce in her mouth. “How about that peach cobbler?”
He glanced at her plate, and in a sudden movement switched them. Now she had a piece of burger and half a dozen fries.
She glanced at him, startled. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. You’ve had a long day, and I bet I’ve eaten more than you have in the course of it. Eat up, honey, and I’ll order dessert.”
Shaking her head, she held up her hand. “No, really. I’ll pass this time. It’ll give me something to look forward to tomorrow.”
“We could get it to go.”
Oh, that sounded good. But she’d promised herself enough treats tonight. She watched as he speared a piece of tomato from her salad and brought it to his mouth. He seemed to enjoy it more than she had. “I’ll pass.”
“Where are you staying? Do you have breakfast organized?”
“At the hotel. That is, the motel,” she confessed. At the bottom of Main Street stood a nice-looking hotel, what they’d call a boutique hotel. A bit set back from the street was the motel she’d booked into. It wasn’t half so pleasant looking, a little run down if truth be told, but it was clean, and the rooms were acceptable. The flimsy locks worried her a bit, but she didn’t have much valuable stuff there. She’d put her belongings into storage until she found somewhere more permanent. “I’m apartment hunting,” she confessed. “I’m planning to go see a place tomorrow.”
“Where?”
She told him.
His brows snapped together in a frown. “That’s not the best area for you to live,” he said baldly. “It’s not in Goldclaw territory, and the people who live there aren’t squeaky clean.”
Reilly burst into laughter. “What do you take me for? Brennan, I was a nurse. I’ve dealt with strung out addicts and drunks with guns. I can cope with a little rough stuff.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Man, he didn’t know when he was beat, that was for sure. “I don’t like to think of you alone around there.”
While she appreciated his chivalry, she found it amusing. Still, it was nice having somebody look out for her. That made a change.
“Hey, Brennan.” Standing by their table was a man of intimidating height, his black hair cut short. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, and his lips were curved in a smile.
“Chris, hi.” Brennan touched his forehead. “Meet Reilly O’Neill, the new owner of Renata’s store. Or I should say the store where Renata’s used to be.” He glanced at Reilly. “This is Chris Goldclaw, the police chief. Renata‘s husband.”
“One of them.” Chris offered his hand and Reilly shook it. “Irish, are you?”
She flipped her red hair wryly. “Not so that you’d notice. I’m from Chicago, and there’s a few of us Irish there.”
“Yeah. Enough to turn the river green.” Chris nodded. “I spent some time there myself, a while back. Welcome to Goldclaw. If you have any problems, come straight to me. I’m up the street a ways, not too far.”
“That makes me feel safer.” She surveyed the navy jacket, emblazoned with a gold badge, and the blue shirt. Chris didn’t wear a tie, but he was neat and tidy for all that. His leather belt and holster peeked out coyly.
This was what a shape-shifter looked like close up. Chris Goldclaw had a breed partner he shared his wife with. And yet he looked perfectly normal.
Of course he was. Around here trios were the norm and she was the odd one out. She just had to get used to it. The Grid, the declared enemies of shape-shifters everywhere, would have thought different.
Privately, Reilly thought the Grid should curl up and die. Its members hated shape-shifters so much they wanted to separate them, make them live in enclaves, and treat them like animals. This man didn’t look like an animal. Even if he did, that wouldn’t matter. All that concerned her was whether he was good people or not, and this guy looked straight-up.
Some people were prejudiced against the
Irish. With her hair color, which she enhanced only a little bit, and her eyes, they flocked to her. She’d heard every insult going, and then some. So she had something in common with shape-shifters. Just not the two men to one woman thing. She doubted she could handle more than one Chris Goldclaw.
Her attention went back to Brennan. Or two of him, either, so it was as well he was human. He sat at ease, grinning at the police chief, casting no shade. If she’d had her doubts about him before, they were dissipated now.
They were done here, and she had an early start to look forward to.
Chapter Two
She got to her feet. Chris stepped back to allow her to exit the booth. Before she could pull her wallet from her jeans pocket, Brennan had nodded to Jobeth, who was approaching them with her tray. She nodded back and turned around.
“I pay my way,” Reilly said stiffly.
“You can get the next one,” Brennan said. “Deal?”
“Okay.” Only when she’d said it did Reilly realize she’d agreed to another meal. Fine by her, but she’d have liked to have been asked. At least she could pay the tip. She dropped a bill on the table. Brennan grinned, but said nothing.
The men let her precede them from the diner. At least they let her open the door for herself. This chivalry thing could get tiring.
Outside, with yellow light falling over them from the canopy over the boardwalk, Reilly had to remind herself this wasn’t a dream. It was too perfect, too much for her to take in.
She folded her arms under her breasts. “I’ve dreamed of this for a long time.” Turning, she gazed across the street to her store. “While I cleaned up vomit and blood, I thought about my little store in a Western town, dreamed about it. My grandpa loved cowboys and Westerns. That’s why he emigrated from the Old Country in the first place. He got to see it before he passed, but he never got to live here.”
“Why here?” Brennan’s voice sounded soft, understanding.
She turned to face him, a reminiscent smile on her face. “The movies and the legends. It was either here or Wyoming. I wanted to live the dream for him, I guess, but it became mine, too. Then when—” She broke off. She wasn’t ready to relive some of the events that forced her to come here. “I guess I got tired of city life, and of nursing. Then I thought—it’s now or never, and I went for it. I want to have a store with beautiful craft pieces in it, but I can’t afford them yet. Maybe I could encourage local artists. But souvenirs are fun and they make people happy.”
