by Emma Roman
The animal laid its head against her shoulder and sent Chico a narrow-eyed look.
“I’d ask you in,” she said to Chico, “but I have to get up early tomorrow. I’m opening the shop.”
“Okay, sure.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips.
The cat was between them. It gave an imperious meow and butted its head against Chico, demanding to be petted.
Chico scrubbed a hand over the tabby’s striped head, his eyes on Jenny. “Good night, then.”
“Thank you for dinner.” She turned to go and then hesitated. “Next time, I’ll cook.”
His heart kicked in his chest. “Sounds like a plan. When?”
“I’m busy tomorrow—I have to get a consignment order done after I get off at the shop—but how about Sunday? I’ve got the whole day off.”
“Great. I’ll bring the wine.”
“Sounds good. See you at five?”
“I’ll be here.”
Chico gave her a last, quick kiss and loped down the stairs. When he reached the street, he gave a fist pump, and then looked around, face hot. But he was alone, save for a beagle in the next yard.
The dog gave a yip that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and disappeared around the side of the house.
5
“So?” Kym hitched her hip against the counter at the first lull in customers and raised a single dark brow. “How was it?”
Jenny poured herself a shot of espresso. She needed the caffeine—she hadn’t fallen asleep until long after midnight. Chico’s kisses had left excitement buzzing in her veins. She was almost sorry she’d sent him away, but things had been moving too fast. She’d felt like she was running full tilt down a hill. That cautious side of her had thrown its hands up and said, Whoa! You need to slow down before you make a huge mistake.
But it just might be the best mistake ever.
And what did it mean that his animal was a dolphin? It was almost like her dad had sent her a message…
She’d swallowed and told herself it was only a coincidence.
Still, she couldn’t help recalling that Grandma Lou had always said a spirit animal was like a guardian angel—when you needed one, it would show up in your life. “You just have to recognize it—and trust its guidance.”
She’d tossed and turned until Max had leapt to the floor with an irritated look in her direction and stalked off to sleep on the couch. That’s when she gave up trying to sleep and got up to work on the consignment order.
“It was nice.” She gulped most of the espresso and briefly closed her eyes. God bless caffeine.
“Nice?” Kym shook her head. “Girl, you are so Midwestern sometimes. Your grandma is ‘nice.’ A warm pair of socks is ‘nice.’ But dinner with a hot shifter is not ‘nice.’ Where’d you go?”
Jenny named the restaurant and Kym pursed her lips. “Impressive. The man must like you.”
“Yeah, I think he does.” Her lips curved. “And after, we took a walk on the Promenade and then he took me home. And before you ask, nothing happened—well, not much anyway.”
Her friend’s look was knowing. “But it will.”
Jenny grinned. “You know, I think it will.”
The bell jangled. A customer entered the shop with a rush of cold air and they went back to work.
The rest of the day passed quickly. By two o’clock, Jenny was walking home. The snow from the day before had melted, and the sky was a pure azure-blue. She lifted her face, drinking in the sunlight.
Her consignment order had been placed by the owner of a funky little shop in Baltimore. The shop was a perfect fit for her newest earrings—silver hoops with different centers: a moon, a star, a bold scribble.
Her tools were on a worktable in the living room next to the large windows which were her main reason for renting the apartment. The kitchen and bedroom were small, but the living room was big enough for both a couch and her worktable—and it had two large south-facing windows so she had natural light most of the day.
Putting on her goggles, she picked up her torch and began to solder the silver hoops she’d left on the kiln brick the night before.
Soldering was close, concentrated work, but on her breaks, she thought about what she’d cook for Chico tomorrow. For herself, she normally just threw together a sandwich or maybe soup and a salad, and she often ate breakfast and lunch at the coffee shop.
But her tomato sauce was so good, people always asked for the recipe—so pasta it was.
On Sunday morning, she drove to Baltimore and after dropping off the earrings, walked along the Inner Harbor for a few minutes before stopping at an Italian grocery store for handmade pasta, antipasto and other ingredients. It would be February first in a few days, and in the store’s front window, a fat Cupid flew above a display of wine and colorful boxes of chocolate.
On her way out of the store, Jenny paused to look at the candy. She’d spent Christmas in Ohio with her stepmom, and New Year’s Eve alone because Kym had gone to New York to visit her family in Brooklyn.
She hadn’t been lonely—she had Max. He’d adopted her soon after she’d moved in and never left.
Hell, who was she kidding? It wasn’t like she’d spent New Year’s Eve crying in the bathtub, but it was hard to be alone when all around you people were partying. At midnight, Grace Harbor had set off fireworks in the soccer and baseball fields next to the middle school, and she’d watched them from the tiny balcony off her kitchen.
The couple in the apartment next door had come out on their balcony and shared a glass of champagne with Jenny. They’d all sipped the sparkling wine while high above, the fireworks bloomed like fiery flowers in the sky—and then her neighbors had gone back inside their apartment and she’d returned to hers.
Maybe for Valentine’s Day, she’d be with Chico.
She pulled herself up short. She was getting ahead of herself—way ahead.
First, see how tonight goes…
But she couldn’t help that excitement buzzing in her veins.
6
“Hey, Chico, I hear Lita’s been asking about you.”
Chico tensed—and then scented the lie. He tightened his jaw. Jaxon was a big, square-faced warrior whom Chico had known since they were both in the nursery. The man would cheerfully put his life on the line for anyone in the clan. But Deus, he loved to tease.
“Yeah?” Chico returned. “Why the fuck should I care?”
His friend smirked. “I hear she can’t forget you. Wants you to sweep her off her feet and carry her off to her crypt—or wherever the fuck she lives.”
“Go to hell,” Chico said wearily. “I haven’t seen her since last April.”
Jaxon put his hands together and batted his eyelashes. “Oh, Chico,” he said in an irritating falsetto. “Please take me—hard. Please, please, lover boy.”
Chico growled low in his chest. He was sick and tired of being the clan pretty-boy. He was a tough, well-trained fighter, same as Tiago and Jaxon and all the others who’d been a part of his cohort growing up. But as a protector, instead of going out with his friends on dangerous covert missions, he was assigned to sentry duty or as a babysitter for the fae.
Not that he had a problem with working in the area best suited to his Gift, but he was tired of being treated as somehow less than the warriors.
So when Lita had asked for his services, he’d said no—until the night fae had upped the money so high he’d have been a fool to turn it down.
And maybe he’d wanted to prove himself to his alpha. Lord Dion had advised him not to do it, had warned him that the night fae could work on you in insidious ways, but Chico had insisted.
It had taken him exactly one day to realize Lita hadn’t needed a bodyguard. She’d wanted an effing toy.
When he’d returned, his friends ragged him about it—Jaxon more than anyone—but he’d heard the envy in their voices.
If they only knew… He’d barely gotten out of there with his balls attached.
“Maybe
you can take her to the Valentine’s Day Ball.” Queen Cleia’s clan was throwing one of their famous parties, and the Rock Run clan was invited.
“It will be a cold day in Hades before I take that woman anywhere,” he returned.
“Maybe you can—”
“Enough.” Chico grabbed the front of Jaxon’s T-shirt. “Shut the hell up,” he said between clenched teeth, “or I’ll meet you in the training cave.” And they both knew he’d beat Jaxon’s ass.
“Sorry, man.” His friend raised his hands, palms out. “Just kidding.”
Chico dragged in a breath and released him. “Okay, then. Enough with the teasing, though. It’s getting old.”
Because sure, he’d fucked Lita—what man wouldn’t? But as soon as she had him hooked, the sex had gotten darker. She enjoyed making her lovers jealous, angry… He’d done things with her—and to her—that he was ashamed to recall.
As soon as his time was up, he’d headed back to Rock Run like a shot. Now it had been close to nine months since he’d had a woman, which for him was a fricking world record.
Lita had left him feeling used, unclean. Horny as hell—but until Jenny, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to start the dance with another woman. At twenty-seven turns of the sun, he felt old.
Jaxon clapped him on the back. “Hey, irmão, no hard feelings, sim?”
“No hard feelings.” He grabbed Jaxon’s head and they nuzzled each other in the way of fada, their animals needing the touch.
Jaxon smiled as Chico released him. “See you at breakfast.”
“I already ate, but catch you later.”
With a nod at Jaxon, he headed toward the base’s only land exit. He had a whole day to kill until his dinner with Jenny. He was going out for a ride.
Ten minutes later, he was on his bike, blazing down the dirt road that led toward the highway. Most of the clan’s vehicles were shared, but he’d used some of the money he’d earned from Lita to buy himself a big-ass V-Rod Harley, black and muscular.
Sunrise came late this time of year. The sun was just peeping over the horizon as he headed south on I-95 and then out I-70 toward western Maryland and the Appalachian Mountains. As he drove, he thought about running into Lita again and felt that surge of impotent fury that swept through him every time he recalled the night fae and how she’d played him.
His lip curled in an instinctive snarl. He drew a breath through his teeth and deliberately put her out of his mind to think about Jenny. She was the anti-Lita, as far as he was concerned: warm, funny, a little shy.
Neither he nor his animal could wait to see her again that night. For dinner, and more kisses… And if he was lucky, maybe he’d finally get to see that fine body of hers naked…
His mouth curved.
Then he forgot everything but the wind on his face and the road in front of him. When he was as far away from civilization as you could get in three hours, he turned into a state park and took a long walk through the mountains on a snow-dusted path, then capped the afternoon with a swim in an ice-cold lake.
He returned to Grace Harbor refreshed. He made a quick stop at Rock Run to change his clothes and pick up a bottle of wine and then headed into town, where he bought flowers before continuing to Jenny’s place.
The downstairs door was unlocked. He grabbed the saddlebag and after tucking his helmet under one arm, loped up the stairs. Her door opened as he reached the hall, and there was Jenny with a smile on her face.
“Hey, Chico. I saw you out the window.”
He halted and stared at her, arrested. She was framed in the doorway with the lights from the apartment illuminating her so that she looked like a black-haired angel in jeans and a fuzzy orange sweater.
She stilled and stared back. The air between them thrummed like a slow, sexy song.
Jenny recovered first. “Come on in,” she said, and stepped back to allow him inside. “How are you, anyway?”
“Good,” he replied, and was amazed when his voice came out normally. “I’m good.”
He followed her into the living room and set his stuff on the floor. She closed the door and turned to him. “I’ve got dinner start—”
She squeaked when he dragged her into his arms and gave her a hard kiss. She was soft and warm and tasted of the spicy tomato sauce he smelled simmering in the kitchen.
“Mm,” she said when he released her. “Nice to see you, too.” She smoothed a hand down his cheek.
His heart thumped in his chest. He smiled a little shakily and busied himself getting the wine and flowers from the saddlebag.
“Here.” He handed her the big bouquet he’d chosen in sunny oranges and reds and yellows. He hadn’t seen anything but the living room the other night, but he’d noticed the bright colors—lime green walls and a tomato red couch.
“For me?” Jenny’s face lit up. “They’re beautiful. They remind me of summer.” She buried her nose in the flowers and inhaled deeply.
“I thought you’d like them,” he said, pleased.
She fingered a yellow rose. “I love them,” she said, “and they’re exactly what I’d buy myself. No one’s given me flowers for—well, a long time. Thank you.”
She rose onto the balls of her feet, slid a hand around his nape and gave him an open-mouthed kiss.
Their tongues tangled—and something within him lit like a match to gasoline. He growled low in his throat and set the wine on the coffee table so he could pull her into his arms. Jenny melted into him. They were a perfect fit, his erection cradled by her soft lower belly. He urged her closer with his hand on her ass and deepened the kiss.
They were in her living room, with the kitchen straight back to the left and the bedroom on the right. He started walking her backward toward the bedroom, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“Hold that thought. I have to stir the sauce—but…wow.” She grinned up at him.
He groaned inwardly, but nodded. “Later, then.” He trailed his lips over her jaw.
He didn’t really expect an answer, but she tilted her head to one side and said, “Yeah, okay.”
Chico dragged in a breath. How the hell was he supposed to eat dinner now? The bedroom door was partially open. He glanced at the big bed that took up most of the tiny room, and then with a massive effort of will, brushed his mouth over hers and released her.
“I’ll open the wine.” He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it in the closet next to the front door, then picked up the wine and followed Jenny into the kitchen, where she was putting the flowers into a green glass pitcher.
The kitchen was long and narrow, with just enough room for a stove, a sink, and a small table. There was only one window with the blinds drawn and a door at the back that opened onto a small balcony.
Jenny handed him a corkscrew and took the flowers into the living room, where she set them on a coffee table made of driftwood and old planks.
“This is a Rock Run merlot,” he told her proudly as she came back into the kitchen. “We have our own vineyards. We sell the vinho verde, but the red wines are for us.” He knew people thought of his clan as a bunch of thugs, but his alpha had worked hard in the past few years to increase their earnings from their vineyards and farms.
“From your own vineyard? That’s cool.”
As he poured the wine into two glasses, Max wound in and out of his legs. Chico gave him a comradely scratch behind the ears, and the big cat rumbled in approval.
“He likes you,” Jenny said. “He’s not usually so friendly with strangers.”
“The cat has good taste.”
Jenny chuckled and rolled her eyes. He watched as she lifted the lid on a saucepan and stirred. The sauce’s spicy scent filled the tiny room.
He leaned closer for a sniff. “Smells great. What is it?”
“Pasta putanesca. Mainly vegetarian—I hope that’s all right?”
“Sure.” He could see black olives, red peppers and chunks of eggplant. He drew another breath. “But I smell a
nchovies, too.”
“Yeah, I like that fish flavor, and I figured you would too. I mean, you’re a dolphin, so you must like to eat fish, right?”
“Yep. I even eat it for breakfast.”
She cut her eyes at him. “Seriously?”
He grinned and handed her a glass of the merlot. “What do you think we eat when we’re in the middle of the ocean? But yeah, I like seafood of any kind.” He took a sip of his wine and then set it on the counter. “So, what can I do to help?”
“How about you make the salad?” She nodded at the lettuce, carrots, and other ingredients on a cutting board next to the sink.
“Salads I can do.”
The two of them finished preparing the dinner. The kitchen was so small that they had to keep sliding past each other. Max sized up the situation and left them to it, strolling regally into the living room, where he perched on the sofa back and surveyed the two of them from a safe distance.
Each time Chico passed by Jenny, he stole a kiss or stroked his fingers down her inky braid. Before long she had a faint flush on her cheekbones, and her eyes were bright. The scent of her growing desire was an aphrodisiac.
He was pretty sure he could coax her into bed even before dinner, but he was enjoying this now. The dominant male animal in him liked to tease.
“There.” She turned off the burner under the sauce and drained the pasta in a colander. “If you’d just put the salad on our plates…” She indicated the table, which she’d set with blue-speckled stoneware and cloth napkins.
She lit a couple of candles in the center of the table and shut off the kitchen light.
The food was delicious, but Chico barely tasted it. He was drunk on Jenny. The candlelight flickering on her warm-colored skin. The way her eyes shone in her face like dark stars. Even the sight of her long, clever fingers wrapped around the stem of the wineglass turned him on.
At last she set her napkin down and went to stand up. “I have dessert—I brought éclairs from the shop.”
He took hold of her wrist. “I’ve had enough to eat.”
She sank back into her seat. “I guess we can have dessert later.”
