“Well, that was good while it lasted. Good thing I didn’t rush to the bank and touch any money.”
Tossing the packet of information on the coffee table in front of her, Daryl willed herself to get up and take a bath before bed. The bike ride around town and then back before dark had started to drain the energy out of her. She was too tired, and there was no way she’d fall asleep out here.
Another quick check of her phone on the app she’d created to monitor the floating wind turbine, and she was headed to take a hot bath. As she lay on the plush bed, snuggled in the expensive, and oh so comfortable covers, Daryl’s mind worked at how she could salvage the deal with the company. She had to figure out a way to keep the deal, not appear as desperate as she was and get out of here. Sleep soon overtook her as scenarios of how to handle this latest snag chased each other around in her head.
4
Asher Princeton—Private Residence, North Georgia Mountains
“Because it’s been a long day, and it’s time for bed, that’s why.” Softening his voice to coax the child to settle down, Asher added, “I promise to take you around the house after breakfast in the morning.”
Was it bad to install a habit of negotiating with a small child to get what he wanted? Nah, look at him. The little guy was too cute. And, Asher knew Brock was enough like him to appreciate a good negotiation.
Brock stared at him, wheels clearly turning behind the green eyes that were exact replicas of his. If he didn’t stay strong, the kid would outlast him. Instead, Brock would be the one up watching Asher sleep. It still amazed him how much the child looked and acted like him. It was like talking to himself. Brock was stubborn and strong-willed—like him—and was most assuredly his mini me.
Asher tussled the head of thick jet-black hair on his son’s head, noticing how he’d need a haircut soon. It was just like his, thick with a hint of wave to it. That was another thing to add to the list. He’d have to find a local barber for bi-weekly haircuts for them both.
Yep, Asher could do this. No wimping out. This kid was going down for bed. He bent and tucked the covers around Brock as the little boy’s face scrunched up while his mind continued to work on a comeback.
Asher couldn’t help himself and said, “What? Make it good.”
“But dad, I’m not sleepy. Not at all. I want to see the pool.”
“Nope, not tonight. It’s dark out, and I don’t want you slipping and falling.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“I just took you. Your bladder is no bigger than a golf ball. Lie down.”
Big green eyes pleaded. “I’m thirsty. Can I go get some water from the kitchen?”
“I’ll get it and bring it back up here for you.”
“You’re no fun.” Brock pouted and folded his arms, much like Asher did when he wasn’t getting his way.
“Oh yeah? Didn’t I get you to help me unload the car? You brought your own suitcase upstairs.”
“You only let me bring the baby one up here. It’s the one with superman on it. Not the big ones, like yours.”
Brock had tripped him up with that one. It was true.
“But, I also let you pick where we got dinner on the way up. Didn’t you like your chicken fingers?”
“Yeah, I guess so. But now I can’t go to sleep. My tummy is still awake. Dad, I need to let the fun out.”
Grabbing one of the many stuffed pillows in the form of one commercially successful cartoon character after another that littered the room, Asher grabbed it and gently hit Brock’s arm.
“I declare war on your funny tummy!” Asher said as Brock giggled in delight.
Brock grabbed a large pillow of the lead character from that cartoon from under the sea to launch his counter attack. The pillow was a great weapon shocking Asher with how far its reach was when his son managed to land a few good blows to his chest area. After a few more rounds of pillow fighting and Brock was breathing hard, Asher surrendered giving the child the solid victory.
“My funny tummy won!” Brock jumped up and down on his bed, dragging the huge cartoon pillow that had clearly started to weigh down his efforts. All Asher could do not to laugh was look at his watch. Seeing the time, he was more convinced that Brock was going down for bed.
“Buddy, it’s almost ten at night. That’s already two hours past your bedtime.”
“But I’m not sleepy.”
“I know. That’s the excitement of our adventurous day that’s got you pumped. Trust me; you’re going to need all your sleep for the cool day I have planned for us tomorrow.”
“Cool like what?” his son asked, clearly not buying what he was selling.
“Cool like, sightseeing around town and getting the house ready for us to be here all summer.” Seeing his words had no impact on his son’s determination, Asher upped the ante. “You’ll need your energy to help me get the pool ready to swim in.”
Asher had no intention of doing anything to that pool before the professionals showed up. And, he did feel a little bad about that white lie, but he needed Brock to settle down. Usually, their nightly routine would have had some help from the couple he’d hired as nannies to help with Brock. As part of his promise to Monique, he’d given Jim and Stacy the summer off with pay.
The couple wasn’t young or old, maybe a few years older than him, but they got along great with Brock, giving his life a community feel to it. The little guy had taken his mother’s sudden death so hard that Asher had sought to surround him with a community of people who would care for him. He’d gotten full custody of him when Brock was nineteen months. His ex-wife’s drug habit had blown out of control. It had been in the nick of time. She died of an overdose less than two months later.
Brock had been a toddler, but old enough to miss his mother. Asher remembered how he’d waddle around his condo looking in drawers and doors for his mother. It tore him up to see how his baby mourn for a mother that would never come back. Asher consulted the best therapists and doctors to help his little boy. But it had been Monique who’d been the change. He owed her Brock and his lives for how she’d stepped up. Yeah, maybe he did rely on her a little too much but, she was his rock. With Monique’s superb help, the child had adjusted faster than anyone would have expected.
“The pool? That is cool,” Brock said. “I get to help clean it and everything?”
“We’ll see.” There was no way Asher was letting his little boy anywhere near the deep pool without the child bumpers he’d ordered to be installed.
“That’s what you say when the answer is no.”
“What? Who told you that?” Asher asked, feeling busted instead of shocked.
“Aunt Nique did. Hey… when is she going to be here? I miss her.” Brock took the soft plush stuffed dragon Monique had gifted him a few Christmases back that Asher handed him.
That thing had been a life saver. There had been a lot of nights Brock cried for his mother. After Monique had started spending time with him, he’d cry for her too. As part of an answer and as not to completely wreck her social life away from work, she’d given him the toy.
With that hypnotic voice of hers, she’d told him, “This is Aunt Nique’s favorite little dragon. You’re my favorite little boy. When you want me, and I’m not here, this little dragon will watch over you and let me know you’re okay.”
Asher watched Brock hug the stuffed toy tight as he settled down under the covers. Hopefully, Charlie, that’s what Brock had named the plush, rounded dragon, would work his magic.
“Aunt Nique will be here in a lot of sleeps. She’s got to do some things before she comes to check on you. While you wait, have Charlie send a message to her that you’re doing A-Okay.”
“Dad, I’m not a baby anymore. I can count. How long before she gets here, I miss her. I think I need one of her hugs, really bad.”
It tore Asher up to see the look on his son’s face. The kid had never gotten past how his mother neglected him for her drug habit. Now, he clung to Moni
que like she was his last breath of air. What Asher didn’t want to admit was that he feared his son would never love him as much as he’d love his mother or Monique.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to his son, Asher opened his arms. “Come here, buddy.”
The little boy rushed out from under the covers to sit in his lap. Asher exhaled a sigh of relief, thankful his child hadn’t totally refused him. He wrapped arms around Brock and began to rock him back and forth like he’d seen Monique do to get him to go to sleep.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to leave and go back to work?”
A pang of hurt hit Asher square in the chest.
“No, why?”
“I don’t know. I just thought you’d be gone like you do.”
“No buddy. This is our vacation to the mountain vacation home, remember? I’m going to take you up to the real mountains so you can see some huge caverns. And, there’s even a gigantic waterfall that we’re going to check out. I told you, we’re going to spend the entire summer together.”
“Then when do I leave you? Aunt Nique said I’m going to go to camp up here. I’m not sure I want to go.” Brock sat up and put his little hands on either side of Asher’s face. “Dad, I’m not sure I want to leave you here by yourself either.” He looked around the room and said, “Everything is too big here. I think I need to stay and protect you, right?”
Brock giggled when the low rumble of laughter exploded from Asher.
“Nice try, dude. I think we’re going to be able to take care of each other. And, summer camp starts next week. You might be so sick and tired of seeing me every day that you run to camp. Hey, did Aunt Nique tell you that you’ll only be there during the day, but here with me at night?”
Brock shook his head no.
“Yeah, the camp is only during the day. No sleepovers. So, you must come back and take care of me at night. How does that sound?”
Brock smiled revealing baby teeth. Asher zoned in on one of the front ones that looked like it was going to come out soon. Boy, this was scary. Brock would be six soon. His son wasn’t a baby anymore.
“We’ll see,” is all the little boy said as Asher began to tickle his stomach through his pajamas.
With Brock finally down for the night, Asher went outside to do what he’d been waiting to do for so long. He’d steal a few minutes to take a quick flight. Quiet as kept with no signs of life in sight, Asher was convinced it was safe to fly, if only for a few minutes. He looked out across the large backyard, taking in the pool, pool house and the guest house he’d built for when Monique would come and stay.
Dark, but reflecting a facade like the main house, Asher chuckled at the thought of his “adopted” older sister’s “personal vacation house” as she’d referred to it. That woman was like a beast when it came to her personal space. He knew there would be no way she’d want to stay in the main house with him and the kid when she came for visits. Choosing a style that would do in case she wanted to have a “Boo” as she called her boyfriends, up for a weekend, he’d had the house designed to have double master suites. She’d stayed here all of two nights as part of his only trip up here to make sure the house was to his specifications.
He took in a huge inhale of fresh cool night air and leaped. The transformation was fluid and quick. Thankful for a good weather night, Asher took his time adjusting to the shift. His wing span had grown in the last few years, matching the growth of his dragon body. That was what happened. Unlike his human form, which was mature at thirty-six and no longer growing, his dragon body would continue to grow for as long as he lived. At six foot five and built more like a rugby player, Asher was impressive in human form. But, even he had to marvel at how much his dragon had grown in the last year.
Catching a gust of wind, he used it to glide up a few more feet with a few flaps of his wings. This was what he’d needed for a while. After his last girlfriend had caught him landing from a late-night flight on a cloudy night back in Atlanta, he’d stopped chancing it. That had been close to a year. The little bitch had even tried to blackmail him to keep his secret. What she didn’t know was that a few of the prominent judges and lawyers in the region were also dragon shifters. A quick call, cease letter with a strong threat of criminal charges for extortion, and she’d slinked away to find another poor dope.
Asher surged forward, allowing the wind to lick his sides with his increased velocity. Since the night was so clear and he was larger than before, he’d go higher up to avoid detection. That way, if anyone did see him, they’d think it was a large bird instead of a dragon. Soaring up to where the ground below started to look small, he let loose, doing spirals, loops and all the other stuff he’d missed doing back in the city. Staying in a tight circular pattern around his home, Asher flew hard and strong. His dragon needed this and responded with more power than he’d remembered having. Although it felt like coming home to be up here, his baby was down below in that big house by himself. Asher reined his dragon in and prepared to come back down.
Descending, the air felt so good; he decided to take one last loop before landing. When he’d completed the loop, and pushed ahead to bring his wings in and prepare to dive down in a spectacular landing in the backyard, something the size of a window box fan in rounded form, hard and windy collided with him, hitting him with a direct assault to the head. Asher reeled, losing his sense of balance and orientation. He and whatever that contraption was, began to crash to the ground.
His head hurt like a Mofo, but he was descending too fast to regain control to right himself. His dragon’s body was way bigger than the last time, and the amount of effort to control that amount of mass was harder than before.
This would teach him not to go so long between unleashing his dragon to get in proper exercise. CrossFit, weights and running might do his human body good, but good old fashion flights and being in his dragon body was what worked best for his dragon side. Looking for a way to salvage a collision with the ground, Asher spotted the covered pool. That little round, metal torture device was coming in hard and heavy beside him.
He angled to land in the center of the pool, opting to stay in his dragon form to absorb the impact.
“Oomph!” The sound blasted out of him as the impact of the sturdy tarp against his back scraped and burned.
A few seconds later he felt the little round metal machine crash into the cover. A quick shift back and he was up doing his best to climb over to the machine on the surface of the pool cover. Closing the distance, he looked at the thing. It was homely, mangled and more reminiscent of Frankenstein than something that would hover in the air as it had. Asher got to his feet, thankful that whatever magic had been weaved into his DNA from his ancestors allowed him to retain his clothing during a shift. Having to dress after a shift like this would be problematic. He was already pretty shaken up.
He bent to pick the foreign object up and was surprised at how lightweight it was. That would explain how it didn’t rip the pool covering when it landed. His body hurt from the fall. Memories of when he’d crash landed in Monique’s backyard flooded in. This time, he’d have to patch himself up and shake it off. Instead of standing here and scrutinizing the metal object, he placed it on the side of the pool and hobbled back in for a hot shower and patch up. Looking back at it as it sat, dented and destroyed, Asher would have to figure out what it was in the morning. He’d find out who its owner was and get it returned. All this would have to be done before Brock got up. The last thing he wanted was for his highly curious son to find it and start playing with the thing.
By the time he made it upstairs and to his master bathroom, a knot the size of an egg had formed smack dab in the middle of his forehead, thanks to that little hunk of metal. A hot shower, cold compress, and he was in bed, determined to get enough sleep to figure out what that thing was and keep up with an excited five-year-old. The start to his summer vacation was proving to be eventful if nothing else.
5
Daryl—The Guest House
It had been hard to sleep last night with all the dreams looping in her mind about the contract issues. And she could have sworn she’d dreamed there had been a huge explosion right outside her room. One fitful dream after another, she’d given up on getting quality sleep. Deciding to get up when her eyes popped open at a little before six in the morning, she woke to darkness.
The lights were off. There must have been a storm or something to affect the wireless power supply. Her mind started whizzing with all the data she’d be able to pull from the weather issues the turbine had encountered. This would be perfect timing. She could work on that this weekend, craft a counter offer to the contract issues, and by Tuesday have everything updated and sent back.
Looking out the little window over the kitchen sink, she couldn’t see where it had rained, but it was still dark outside. With it still pitch black and not wanting to pull the floating wind turbine back down until she could see how to navigate it safely, Daryl rerouted the power back to the house. The transition was fast and smooth. Turning on a few lights in the kitchen and living area, she set about starting her day.
A quick check of her phone revealed that its power was drained. The turbine must have stopped transmitting power right after she’d gone to bed. Her phone would have to be powered up before she could check the most recent stats. That would be another thing she created—another app platform to access the data. Couldn’t have clients hamstrung when their cell phones were down. She went about plugging in all her personal electronics into the house outlets. When her stomach made a loud growl, Daryl stopped and remembered she had food from her grocery run.
Dragon's Curvy Dilemma Page 4
