by Meg Ripley
All strength went out of her jaw and tongue, and Maren no longer knew how to speak. She gaped at him for a moment. “You mean…”
“I mean permanently. Not just a visit, if that’s what you’re wondering. I have things I’ve got to go back and take care of, but I don’t want to leave you here.” Garrison’s grip tightened on her fingers, a warmth that dispelled the bitter winter weather. “Please say you’ll come with me, Maren.”
She swallowed. How ironic that she’d focused on him so much over the last few days that it was becoming an automatic habit anytime she felt herself getting off-course, yet he was the very person who was making her feel so dizzy and sick right now. “Garrison, I can’t. I can’t just leave this land and my ancestral home. I’ve fought so hard so that I could have a life here, and you helped me with that. How can I just give it all up now?”
He nodded and looked down at their joined hands. “I had a feeling you would say that. You’re a very practical woman. Some might say that I don’t really know you, given that I just met you a few days ago, but there’s a bond between us like I’ve never had with anyone else before. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you do it boldly. You have times when you’re scared or nervous, but then you step right up to the plate and look danger and adversity right in the eye.”
“So, you understand?” She’d given him the right answer, but Maren felt terrible about it. She didn’t want him to be upset or feel rejected, even though her own heart had deflated and was drifting down toward the bottom of her stomach like a popped balloon.
“I do. You’ve got things going on here. I can’t just ask you to give up your life and change everything for me, no more than I could pick up and move here myself. The SOS Force needs me, and I need them, too. I’ve worked really hard to get my construction company to the level that it is right now, and I’d be crazy to give that up.”
“Does that mean we can at least still be friends?” The words were bitter on her tongue, some stilted phrase that shortchanged everything they’d been through together, everything they felt for each other.
He gave her fingers one final squeeze before letting them drop, and he forced a smile. “Of course. Now, I’d better get you back home before you freeze. I’ve got a flight to catch in the morning, too.”
10
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Flint was kicked back in his chair like usual, his feet up on the table, but it wasn’t the table in the conference room at their headquarters. He’d joined the debriefing remotely, just as Drake had. “You’re telling me there actually was a lake monster? I have to admit, that’s a pretty fucking weird mission, even for you.”
“It was certainly… interesting.” He’d informed them of the time he’d spent with the Alphas and had even quickly gone over some of the information he’d discussed with other locals like Lance Briggs. Then there had been everything regarding the meeting, the new territory lines, and the night they got rid of the casino owner for good. He’d left out all the rest of it, and it made his time in Tahoe sound incredibly boring.
Other than, apparently, finding a real-life monster.
“I’d say stranger things have happened,” Drake remarked. He wore a lab coat and had managed to join them between patients at the local clinic he’d opened in Eureka. “I mean, we didn’t expect there to be any other dragons. But if there’s one, then it’s perfectly logical there would be another. I’m no paleontologist, but I’d venture to guess that complete extinctions rarely happen.”
He was trying to put it in scientific terms, which was reasonable for a doctor, but there was something about discussing his own kind that way that bothered Garrison. He’d never let them see it, just like he’d never let them know that he’d not only found the lake monster, but bonded with her on the deepest level.
“And you were able to satisfy all parties?” Hudson asked. He and Leona were the only other members of the team who were able to be there in person, since they still lived in the area. “I thought it might be a bit of a challenge to work with three different kinds of shifters.”
“Four, actually,” Garrison corrected, not wanting to leave Maren out. “And yes, I think they were happy with the end result. Happy enough that they invited us to their holiday party, anyway.”
Leona pounded on that response like the big cat that she was. “Us? At a party? Is there something else you need to tell us, Garrison?”
He scowled at her for catching on so quickly, even though he should’ve been more careful. Would it really hurt if the rest of the Force knew what he felt inside? Maybe not, but that didn’t mean he was ready to discuss it or catch the shit they’d throw his way. “It would’ve been rude not to accept, that’s all.”
He didn’t miss the look exchanged between the two lions, but they said nothing else.
“So, now I’m back and I’m ready for the next mission. What do we have?” Really, he was just ready for everyone to stop talking about him. Even if they wanted to send him off to the desert or some swamp for his next assignment, he’d snap it up in a heartbeat.
“There isn’t much of anything right now,” Hudson admitted. “The few straggling calls that we had before you left have all been taken care of. I say we adjourn until after the new year unless we get some emergency calls.”
Everyone else seemed to agree, and everyone left or logged off. He got in his truck and turned for home, but then he changed his mind and went to the office.
“It’s absolutely stunning!” Mrs. Reynolds clasped her hands in front of her as her eyes continued to rove over the recently remodeled interior of her home, even though she’d already walked through the place about six times. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. When Irena Shively recommended you, I figured I was just getting another contractor. Oh, sure, maybe someone who didn’t try to rip me off just because I’m a woman, but nothing more than that. This, though. This is incredible.”
Garrison studied the room. Mrs. Reynolds had a Victorian townhome that had long ago been converted to have all the modern conveniences that betrayed its heritage. While she’d decided not to reproduce the original look, she’d wanted to get away from the stark white trim and mini blinds and back to something more cozy and homelike. He’d personally dived in himself to help create the custom wooden surround on the fireplace and the carved wooden trim. The bay window had been completely reconstructed to make sure it was sturdy once again.
“I can’t take all the credit. That decorating firm I work with really knows how to fill a place up and make it feel like a home again.” He might’ve been in charge of fixing the home itself, but it wouldn’t look nearly as impressive without the thick rugs, comfortable yet ornate furniture, and even a reproduction print of the original architect of the home.
Still, Mrs. Reynolds refused to be anything less than completely impressed. “You know, when Charles told me I could redecorate and do a little bit of remodeling in the process, I don’t think he quite had this in mind. And he certainly wouldn’t have expected it to happen so quickly during the holidays! Everyone else I talked to was taking off until after the new year.” She stepped forward, her long skirt swishing around her ankles, to tenderly touch the smooth wood on the fireplace.
“Well, sometimes you’ve just got to get the job done.” That wasn’t really true. It was, in that he liked to work hard and know that he’d achieved something, but he hadn’t accepted this job out of any sense of duty. In most years, he’d have been happy to take the time off as well.
But he’d returned to the hustle and bustle of D.C. only to realize just how quiet and empty it felt. The traffic seemed too loud and the crowds too big. His house had been something he was proud of, considering all the work he’d done to it and how great it was starting to look, but it also reminded him of everything he’d left behind. It wasn’t as cozy and relaxing as the cabin he’d rented at the ski resort. That wasn’t the only thing, but he tried not to think about the real reason he was bothered.
Instead, he’d completely thrown himself into his work. He’d accepted the first job that was waiting for him on his desk when he’d gotten back. And when Roy’s eyebrows had nearly reached his receding hairline in wonderment, Garrison calmed him down by explaining he’d do most of the work himself and offer generous holiday pay to anyone else who was willing to work that precious week between Christmas and New Year’s.
What was the time to him, after all? It was just something to waste, something to get rid of as quickly as possible while paying the least amount of attention to it. Otherwise, his mind was just going to wander straight back to that enchanting woman, imagining her standing on the shore of Lake Tahoe, the water rolling in small waves as it came up onto the sand to lick her toes, her eyes clear and bright as she focused on the place that had been her home forever.
Once or twice, he thought about calling Brad just to see how things were going. It was certainly within his job description to follow up on his missions and make sure things were still going smoothly. It didn’t necessarily have anything to do with her, and even if it did, no one else had to know about it. In the end, though, it seemed easier just to distance himself as much as possible. The sooner he could forget about her, the better.
“—and this woodwork is just remarkable,” Mrs. Reynolds was still swooning. “Really, I think you waste your talent behind a desk and a telephone, Mr. Stokes. You could bring in top dollar for work of this caliber. As a matter of fact, I know a woman over on Bryant Street who’s looking to fix up her town home. She’s wanting something similar to this, with a lot of custom woodwork that brings back that older look of days gone by. Can I give her your number? I mean, if you’re available for more work?”
He’d hardly been paying any attention. His mind had wandered off to Nevada again. Damn it. This wasn’t supposed to be so hard. Garrison was a professional, both with the Force and with Stokes Construction. He could complete a mission without getting personally involved, and he could stay focused on his work and offer excellent customer service.
“Sure, that would be fine. She can call me anytime.”
“Not tonight, of course. I’m sure you have big plans for New Year’s Eve.”
What was it about the holidays that always made single people feel sorry for themselves? He remembered older days, when entire neighborhoods would get together to celebrate. You didn’t have to be attached to someone to be involved, or at least that was the way it felt. He could blame modern technology and social media, but he knew he was just making excuses. “Oh. No, not really.”
Mrs. Reynold’s had to be in her sixties, but apparently, that didn’t stop her from admiring a younger man. Or maybe it just made her feel she could be bolder with her statements. “A handsome young thing like you? Surely, you’ve got someone who wants to kiss you at midnight.”
He pushed the corners of his mouth up into a smile he didn’t feel. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Reynolds. I’m sure I can find someone.”
“We’re having a party here tonight, dear. You should come.”
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
Her wrinkled brow furrowed deeply. “It’s no intrusion! You should come, if for no other reason than to take the credit for all this gorgeous work you did here. Why, you’ll have more work than you possibly know what to do with.”
That part, he had to admit, was a bit tempting. He needed to continue with his work, if he was ever going to get over that damn trip.
“And,” his client continued coyly, “I’m sure there’ll be a few single ladies here as well. They’d throw themselves at your feet with your good looks and your skills.”
Garrison began backing toward the front door, picking up his clipboard on the way. This was getting to be far too much. “That’s very kind of you, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“If you change your mind, you just come right on over,” she admonished, looking every bit like an insulted mother hen as she advanced across the living room toward him. “Don’t worry about calling or anything. Guests will start arriving around seven, and of course they’ll be here until after midnight.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” His hand instinctively found the doorknob, the metal soothingly cool against his palm.
“You promise? I don’t like to think about you alone to start off the year.” She’d nearly cornered him in the entryway now.
“Yes, I promise. I’ll see you later, Mrs. Reynolds. Have a good evening.” He slipped out the door without turning his back, nearly sagging with relief when he heard the click of the latch behind him. Still, he made his way quickly down the walk to his waiting truck.
Unfortunately, there was probably a lot of truth in what the old woman had said. It really was sad to spend any holiday alone. He probably could get some attention if he attended her New Year’s Eve party, both for his business and for pleasure. But he wasn’t interested in rubbing elbows with new clients, and he definitely wasn’t interested in kissing some strange girl that Mrs. Reynolds foisted on him just because she felt sorry for him.
He headed on down the road, not even bothering to stop at the office to drop off his paperwork. It could wait. Garrison just wanted to be off the street and at home, where no one else would harass him about his plans for the evening. Plows had shoved the snow off the street, mixing in plenty of dirt and sludge to make dingy piles against the sidewalk.
The house was cold and quiet when he arrived. He tossed his keys on the side table near the door and kicked off his boots before heading to the kitchen. Cold beers waited for him in the fridge, but he wasn’t in the mood. It would be too much like drinking alone on New Year’s, and that was a pitiful image he wasn’t interested in associating with himself.
He’d worked hard for the past week, and it was catching up with him. Garrison sat down and turned on one of the many countdown shows that flooded local television this time of year, and the next thing he knew, he’d drifted off.
The sounds of the television rattled in his ears, giving him strange dreams. First, it was he and Maren in Times Square, throwing confetti. Then it was something about heartburn, which seemed only appropriate. He drifted in and out with the commercial breaks, and when he finally sat up and rubbed his eyes, it was almost midnight. “Fuck this,” he muttered. “I’ll just go to bed.” Tomorrow would be a new year, and even though the turning of the calendar was just a symbolic process the humans had invented long ago, and even though he knew the next day wouldn’t really be any different than this one, he had hope for it.
Garrison was just heading to his bedroom when he heard a noise. He stopped, turning his head to listen again. There it was again, a creak from one of the porch boards that he hadn’t fixed yet. His heart pounded as he turned fully, prepared for whatever burglar was dumb enough to think everyone would be in bed at ten minutes ‘til midnight on New Year’s Eve. He wouldn’t even need a weapon, since he could make any intruder piss their pants just by showing his real face.
But then someone knocked on the door. His fists curled as a strange feeling flooded his body. It was a familiar rush, one that he’d thought he’d never experience again. But that couldn’t be. The only other person who’d made him feel that way was over twenty-five-hundred miles away, staring up at the starry sky over Lake Tahoe.
The knock sounded again. Garrison realized he hadn’t moved. He marched forward with determination, deciding to catch whomever this was by surprise. Flipping on the porch light at the same time, he flung open the door.
She stood there, her eyes wide in a panic as she looked at him. The snow had started falling again, and it dotted her dark hair, making him think of that last night in Nevada when she’d told him she couldn’t be with him. Her gray wool coat and the black sheath dress she wore underneath made her look like any other partygoer, but he knew better.
“Maren?” His grip tightened on the doorknob. The anger inside him at losing her once already made him want to slam the door in her face so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain any lon
ger, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. “What are you doing here?”
One corner of her mouth perked up. “You’re not happy to see me?” she asked uncertainly.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s not that. You just caught me by surprise.” He stood there, embarrassed by his reaction.
“I’ve got something I’d like to tell you, if you have a minute.”
Something to tell him? None of the few fantasies he’d allowed himself about her had gone quite like this. “Sure, of course. Is there something wrong with the new territory lines? The other shifters?” He stood back and waved her inside.
“No, nothing like that. They’re quite wonderful, actually. Tracy was the one who took me to the store to get this outfit, even. I think she has some sort of idea about taming me.” She laughed self-consciously as she looked down at her dress.
“It looks nice on you.” His throat was dry and his body was going crazy. He’d recovered from the initial shock of seeing her, but he could feel his inner dragon surging against the underside of his skin.
“Um, Garrison, like I said, I’ve got something I’d like to tell you.”
He couldn’t explain why it was so awkward to be around her now, in his own home. After all, they’d curled up together naked in front of the fire in his cabin. They’d told each other about their personal histories, and they’d fought the enemy together. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Let me take your coat. Have a seat. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.” She settled onto the edge of the sofa, waiting patiently until he’d stopped fluttering around before she spoke again. “Do you remember when I asked you if there were other dragons in the world?”
His heart had lodged in his throat, trying to choke him. “Yes, I remember.”
