by E A Price
He looked at Crystal’s picture and sighed. She smiled back in immortal loveliness.
“I don’t know what to do, darling,” he mumbled. “I know, I know, you said you wanted me to find someone, but how could I ever have agreed to that?”
He didn’t want to be a creep who talked to a photo but it had helped him a lot. After she died he wasn’t sure how he could cope. It was down to his sister, Martha, and Crystal’s sister, Candace that he managed to get through it. But every day he seemed to think of her less and less and he hated it. Hated that her voice was becoming so distant to him. Hated that he started hearing Maris’ laugh, not Crystal’s.
Crystal just smiled benignly.
“How could I even think of replacing you?”
He could almost hear her response. She’d tell him to stop being such a weiner and go get what he wanted.
Clay chuckled out loud. Death had perhaps elevated her a little to sainthood in his mind, but he would never forget the fact that his mate had been outspoken, stubborn and had a ‘seize the day’ mentality. Crystal had lived her whole life under a cloud because of her health problems, and she spent her short time on earth enjoying herself as fully as she could. She wouldn’t sit around agonizing if there was something she wanted – she would go for it, no question.
“Jeez, I am a weiner,” he said, and he could almost hear her snicker in agreement.
“Who’s a weiner?” asked his assistant walking into his office with a confused look on his face
“Ah…” Clay could feel himself blushing. “I thought you were at lunch.”
His assistant shrugged. “I’m just leaving now, I just came by to tell you that Ariel called. She said she’s having lunch with the new model we’re hiring. She said you could join them if you wanted to talk about the contract.”
“New model?”
“Yes, Maris, right?”
“Right, yes of course,” he said, his heart thumping. He needed to know where she was immediately, and he thought of a brilliant way to find out.
“Where is she?!” he howled at his assistant.
*
“Oooh, spas in every bedroom? Did you see this, darling? They have a spa in every bedroom!”
Marla gushed as she looked over the details of the Caribbean resort.
Ariel smiled as Marla pored over the old brochure for the resort.
“Actually, we’ve made quite a few improvements since then,” said Ariel. “We’ve added a new pool, another restaurant and a kids area.”
“Ooh! A kids area? Did you hear that, Maris?”
Maris sighed. “I’m sitting right next to you, and I don’t have kids.”
Ariel stifled a giggle and coughed. “This brochure is years old which is why we’re trying to persuade Maris to be our model for the new one.”
“Oh, she would love that, wouldn’t you, Maris?”
“Well, I…” She had to admit she wanted to at first, but since things had cooled with Clay, she was trying to distance herself as much as she could from the herd. Which wasn’t easy given that her mother was an enthusiastic ‘yes’ woman.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to go to the Caribbean resort, maybe the new brochure will tempt George.”
Maris doubted that. The only thing that ever seemed to excite George… actually she had no idea what did excite George. He always seemed like a cranky coot. Presumably her mother knew how to excite him, but that wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on.
“Though, it’s probably my own fault George never wants to vacation anywhere sunny. The last time we went to the beach I absolutely told him I would not go anywhere hot again unless he bought new resort clothes. I mean, who on earth wears corduroy shorts on the beach?”
“The man loves corduroy,” muttered Maris and Ariel pressed her lips together and hiccupped a laugh.
Though, her mirth turned to curiosity, and she leaned a little closer to Maris. “Don’t look now, but there’s a guy at another table seriously checking you out.”
Maris rolled a shoulder and decided that she definitely wasn’t going to look.
“He’s kind of cute,” added Ariel and then blushed profusely, “if you like that kind of clean cut look.”
Maris planned on just leaving him to look, but she should have known that it wouldn’t end that way. Nope, not when she was sitting with the least subtle person on earth.
“Where?” asked Marla, delightedly looking around and eyeing every male in the restaurant. “Is that him?” she asked waving at a confused young man who just happened to be a courier delivering something. He waved back politely enough. “How about him?” She waved at a waiter who hurried over to ask if they needed anything.
Maris thought it prudent to try and stop this before her mother picked out a wedding registry for her and an unsuspecting waiter.
“No, Mom…”
“He’s in the corner,” said Ariel helpfully.
Marla zoomed on that direction and so did Maris, groaning as she spotted Jason. Of course, he saw her looking and decided to make his way over to them. Maris quickly focused on her dessert menu, trying to decide on the pie she wanted. They had eight kinds of pie - which was impressive.
“Ladies,” he purred.
Maris looked up with a sigh. Her mother was oblivious as always, but Ariel gave her an uncertain glance. Yep, Jason was not her favorite person. The douche was not overly persistent in his phone calls, but they were becoming regular enough that she now had caller ID.
She had considered telling someone, but her mother’s experience told her that people were not sympathetic to females like her. The view was that if you dressed like Marla or Maris, then you were asking for it.
“Maris, how nice to see you again,” he said giving her an amused and heated look.
“Umm, yeah, hi.”
“Oh, you know each other,” trilled Marla, “how lovely, I’m Marla, Maris’ mother.”
She held out a hand and he kissed it, making her titter, and then made a comment about them looking more like sisters, making her titter even more.
Maris’ eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets.
He looked at Ariel. “Aren’t you the alpha’s sister?”
She nodded, giving him a wry smile, and Jason dismissed her from his attention immediately. Yep, he couldn’t harass the alpha’s sister – not if he wanted to live to see his next sexual harassment seminar.
Sadly, that meant he turned his attention back to Maris.
“You never returned any of my phone calls,” he chided playfully.
No, she did not. She had actually been away for a couple of weeks, but when she got back to find half a dozen messages where he vividly detailed exactly what he wanted to do to her, she quickly deleted them and tried to forget she ever heard them.
“I’ve been busy,” she replied sweetly, while trying to kick her mother – gently, but kick her nonetheless – and discourage her from encouraging Jason.
“That was my leg,” whispered Ariel.
“Why don’t you join us?” offered Marla.
“Oh, I’m sure he can’t do that,” blurted Maris.
“Yes,” agreed Ariel, “I mean, he’s already here with people…”
Jason all but twinkled at them. If Maris didn’t know he was a caribou shifter, she’d swear he was the big bad wolf. “But, you do have a spare seat.”
“My seat,” rumbled a deep voice.
Maris and Ariel both jumped as Clay appeared. Marla just watched the events unfolding with the same avid interest she gave to her favorite soap opera.
Clay gave Jason a chilly smile and proprietorially placed a hand on the back of Maris’ chair, or at least, that’s how it seemed to her.
“Clay,” said Jason, his smile only losing a smidge of its gleam.
“Nice to see you again, Jason,” said Clay, completely insincerely and entirely dismissively.
Jason grunted in agreement, promised Maris that they would speak soon – not if she could help it –
and sauntered away while winking at Marla.
Clay sat down in the empty seat, exchanging pleasantries with Ariel and Marla. As Maris peered over her menu at him meeting his piercing gaze, she wondered whether she might not have been better putting up with Jason.
Seventeen
“You really didn’t need to drive me home,” said Maris, chewing on her plump bottom lip.
“It’s no problem,” murmured Clay, trying to pretend his eyes weren’t glued to said plump bottom lip.
Maris stared out the window at her front door. She was about to get out, to make her escape. She hadn’t been happy when he insisted on driving her. George was supposed to give her a ride home but had been caught up at work. Rather than take a cab, Clay drove Marla home and was now dropping Maris at her home. If Marla thought it odd that he insisted on driving her home first, even though Maris was closer and he would have to double back to get Maris home second, she didn’t comment; she was just grateful and as bubbly as ever.
“Well, thanks, I’ll…”
“Has that guy been bothering you?” blurted Clay.
Maris frowned at him. “You mean Jason?”
Of course, he meant Jason! Clay almost exploded but managed to maintain control of his temper. Both he and his beast had been unhappy to see the male at the restaurant, leering at Maris like she was a piece of meat. The idea that Maris welcomed his attention was intolerable.
“Yes,” he replied with razor-sharp calmness.
“He’s tried calling me a few times,” she said vaguely. “I’m not interested in him.”
“He’s young, successful…” he admitted distastefully.
“He’s a sleaze,” snapped Maris, giving him a look of irritation.
“That too,” he agreed a little more happily. “I haven’t seen you much recently.”
“No.”
“Maris…”
“Oh, Clay,” she sighed, “if we’re going to bang this drum again at least let’s go inside my house. I feel silly sitting in the car. Come on; I promise you’ll be safe from my debatable charms.”
*
Maris peered into her refrigerator, wishing she had planned ahead and actually bought groceries.
“Okay, I have one can of fruit punch, half a bottle of fizzy water – but that’s been there a while, so the fizz has probably gone – and I think I have some cranberry tea bags somewhere. Also, there’s water from the faucet, if none of the others take your fancy.”
“So hard to choose,” he murmured lightheartedly.
She closed the refrigerator and placed the fruit punch on the counter.
“I didn’t expect to have visitors, and I haven’t been shopping yet.”
Maris opened the can, took a swig and handed it over to Clay. He took a drink and handed it back.
“Fruity,” he muttered.
“Clay…” she started and then stopped. She didn’t know what he wanted to say – surely he had already made his position clear the night of their ill-attempted date.
He looked at her expectantly, and she shook her head. “I’ve changed my mind, you start.”
“I wanted to say I was sorry for what happened.”
“You already apologized, you don’t need to do it again.” She didn’t want to hear it again either.
Maris took another drink and placed the can on the worktop, pushing it toward him with her fingertips.
He took a sip. “I can’t mate again; I promised Crystal.”
“Clay, is it that you don’t want to mate again, or is it that you don’t want to be with me?”
Clay passed her the can and said, “There’s a difference?”
Maris let out a frustrated sigh. “Clay, I’m not some doe-eyed nineteen-year-old asking you to mate me. I like you, and I want to spend time with you, but I’m not asking you to make a lifelong commitment to me.”
Given her mother’s forays into relationships, she really didn’t have high expectations when it came to mating.
Clay blinked at her. “I didn’t think you’d want…”
Maris groaned and took a long drink. “You think that all I’m after is a mating agreement?” Jeez, who did he think she was – Bella?!
“Clay, no offense but I’m not interested in mating anyone, but,” she took a deep, steadying breath, “I like spending time with you, I like being with you. Can’t we just spend some time together?”
She finished the drink and dropped the can into the recycling. Maris turned to find he had taken a step towards her.
“Were you serious when you said you’d only been with one guy?”
Maris gaped at him. Of all the insufferable… “Really? That’s really what… ooh!”
Clay surged forward and wrapped his arms around her, his lips pressed against hers and she melted against his body. He was awkward and uncertain at first, holding his body rigid, but as she pushed herself against him, he slowly relaxed and allowed her entrance into his mouth.
She almost giggled and cried at the same time. It was as sweet and lovely as their first kiss. She’d kissed other men since that moment they shared sitting on her beat-up bug, even if she hadn’t taken them to bed. But they had never compared to this, and knowing that both scared and exhilarated her.
Slowly, his lips pulled away, and he rested his forehead against hers while letting out a sound halfway between a moan and a sigh.
“I haven’t kissed anyone in a while.”
“Me either,” she cooed, snuggling against his chest.
“Not since you, in fact.”
“Really?” she murmured in mild surprise.
Clay let out an impatient grunt. “Yes, I haven’t kissed anyone since you, and I haven’t… ah… since my mate.”
Maris managed to stifle her gasp. Of course, she’d never heard about him being with any women, but she just assumed he was discreet. She assumed he was a horndog – like most other male shifters, and liked to, ahem, wet his whistle as often as possible. The idea that he had been celibate since losing Crystal was incredibly sweet and also a little daunting. Her own forays into sex had hardly been outstanding.
He was blushing in embarrassment, and Maris found herself relaxing. Clay didn’t expect anything from her. Didn’t expect her to be some perfect goddess, wasn’t demanding anything.
She smiled reassuringly. “Honey, let’s just take it slow.”
She’d been waiting for nearly seven years; she was in no rush.
Eighteen
Clay chuffed in his sleep. He wasn’t sure he’d slept this well in a long time. His bed was remarkably soft – softer than usual, not to mention the warm, soft person lying against him…
He opened one eye and for a moment he was surprised to find Maris cuddling against him, then he remembered the previous night and a flood of pleasure and nerves - that only teenagers dealing with their first crush should possess - washed over him.
They hadn’t done anything more than kiss, and cuddle, talk and watch TV and eat Chinese food, but he hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in a long time. It had been late, and they had fallen asleep on the couch. In a sleepy haze, Maris had dragged him into her bed, but not to have her wicked way with him – not there would be anything wicked about that, on the contrary, he imagined it would be quite divine – but just to sleep. Maris was in a pair of pajamas but he still wore his clothes.
He considered trying to untangle himself, but as he moved, Maris let out a mewl and edged closer. He decided he could wait a little longer for the bathroom.
Clay trailed his fingers up and down her back, enjoying how it felt to hold someone and himself be held. It had been so long since he shared a bed with anyone. He didn’t want anyone to know it, but yeah, he was a cuddler, and he could lie there all day… or at least until he needed to get up and – as his nanny had called it – do the pee pee dance.
He could stay this way a little longer at least, or…
“Ow!”
He grunted and glared in the direction of his feet. His inner beast huf
fed as his gaze fell upon a large, fluffy cat, simultaneous staring at him with a haughty expression and pressing its claws into his foot.
He tried growling but that merely earned him a bored sneer.
“Shoo!” he hissed, trying to shake his foot and dislodge the beast, while taking pains not to wake Maris.
This resulted in claws being pressed into his foot with even more ferocity.
Clay waggled his foot while the cat meowed and hissed at him.
“Get off!” he grumbled, and with an almighty shake he managed to get rid of the cat and send himself and Maris tumbling to the floor.
“Oof!”
He shook his fist at the smirking cat and jumped over the bed to find Maris leaning on her elbows giving him a curious look.
“Not the best way I’ve been woken up,” she murmured in amusement.
“It was that damn cat,” he groused, pulling her to her feet.
“Oh, Fifi – yes, I’m sure she wants her breakfast.”
Maris made a kissy face at the beast and Clay scowled.
“She wants something all right,” he muttered.
Maris smiled at him. “Let me get her sorted and then let’s grab some breakfast – there’s a diner on the corner that does amazing blueberry pancakes.” She gave his shirt a speculative look. “Although you are a little rumpled.”
“I have a spare shirt in the car.”
“Good.” She leaned forward and brushed a kiss over his lips. “I don’t think any of my halter tops will suit you.”
She swatted his butt and shepherded the huffy she-cat out of the room. Clay chuckled and had an unfamiliar sensation rush through him. Good lord – was he actually feeling happy?!
*
“Are you sure you don’t want some jam or jelly on your toast?” asked Maris. “It’s peach.”
She held up the pot and shook it in front of him.
Clay smiled. “I’m sure, thank you.”
Maris shrugged. She was sure dry toast wasn’t good for anyone, but she wasn’t going to argue. She wasn’t sure dietary concerns were the purview of a ‘sort of’ girlfriend. She knew her mother nagged George incessantly about what he ate, not that he took any notice, but she doubted Clay would appreciate it.
