The Girl Nest Door (Green Valley Shifters Book 2)

by Zoe Chant

  He knew he ought to cool things off, before they got more knotted together than they already were. Before he hurt her any more than he knew he was going to.

  But his tiger was breathing down his neck with need. Our mate, he reminded Shaun unnecessarily; she was frankly irresistible, and every night that Trevor was cooperative about bed Shaun spent watching their porches from the terrible chair agonizing over his willingness to take advantage of Andrea’s good heart and the sweet body she offered him without strings.

  He was nodding before he remembered he shouldn’t be and Andrea vanished from the pool of light on her porch towards her front gate.

  Maybe after tonight he’d break things off.

  Then she was standing on his porch handing over a few folded sheets of printer paper and he knew he wouldn’t be able to. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “I really like the instructions you’ve been writing up for me. You’re... a great writer.” Her instructions were all written out in clear, funny detail, complete with simple sketches.

  When Shaun was missing her, he read them over and over again, like they were pages of love letters and not directions for home improvement.

  Andrea ducked her head, and Shaun could see her blush in the faint light of their porch lights. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve... always wanted to be a writer.”

  “You should be,” Shaun said. “The way you put things is just perfect. Even I understood what is supposed to happen.”

  “Even you!” Andrea teased. But she looked tremendously pleased and embarrassed.

  “Why aren’t you?” Shaun pressed.

  “Why aren’t I what?” Andrea looked confused. Did his presence have the same stupefying effect on her that she had on him?

  “A writer? You’re really good at it.”

  Andrea chewed on her lower lip. “I... I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly. “I guess that I just have these ideas in my head that just seem better than what I end up writing down.”

  “What kinds of things do you want to write?” Shaun asked.

  It was odd, just chatting.

  It felt like violation of their agreement, and like the indulgence of something even more satisfying.

  “Fantasy,” Andrea admitted. “Big thick, epic fantasy novels like I used to read as a kid.”

  “You make it sound so shameful,” Shaun teased her. “I was expecting you to say you wanted to write bodice-ripping erotica.”

  Andrea’s laugh was rich and real, not a cultivated affectation. “Maybe I will, at that.”

  It was the perfect opening. “If you’re looking to do some research...”

  Andrea’s smile was as real as her laugh. “An offer I can’t refuse,” she purred, and Shaun was holding the door open for her without a second thought.

  He was bending to kiss her, because he was utterly helpless not to, when he was drawn up short.

  “Daaaaaadddddddy! I had a bad dreeeeeaaaaaammmmm!”

  Trevor’s distress was a splash of cold water on Shaun’s desires and he and Andrea skittered apart, looking guilty.

  “Miss... Miss... Andrea?” Trevor was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at the two of them. He was blinking in confusion... and completely naked.

  “Hi, honey,” Andrea said with a big smile. “I was helping your dad with some wiring questions.”

  Shaun held up his folded papers as if Trevor was a judge asking for evidence.

  “Can you tuck me back in?” Trevor asked in a small, tired voice.

  “Of course,” Shaun said. “Andrea was just going.”

  “Not you!” Trevor cried, face crumpling. “I want Miss Andrea to tuck me in.”

  The two grown-ups exchanged a complicated look, Andrea asking for permission and offering consolation for the slight, Shaun granting the permission and accepting Trevor’s undiplomatic preference.

  “Of course, sweetie,” Andrea said at once.

  All three of them walked up the carpeted stairs, but when Shaun went to help get Trevor back into his discarded pajamas, he was rudely pushed away. “Just Miss Andrea!” the boy insisted, wrapping his arms around the woman possessively.

  Shaun might have protested, but his eyes fell on a pillow that had fallen to the floor beside Trevor’s bed. What at a glance had appeared to be a frayed seam was clearly not upon closer inspection.

  The pillow had been slashed in several parallel lines.

  As if by needle-sharp claws.

  Chapter 22

  Shaun darted out of the room with one of the pillows clutched against him, looking unexpectedly wild-eyed, and left Andrea alone with Trevor clinging to her.

  “Tell me about your dream,” Andrea invited, rocking the boy in her arms.

  “I was a monster,” Trevor said. “In a world of monsters, and... there were empty rooms. I couldn’t find something.”

  “That sounds pretty scary,” Andrea said gently, smoothing his blond hair back from his forehead. “Did you get to do any fun monstery things like smash cars with your giant feet?”

  Trevor giggled into her shoulder. “I was a little monster,” he said.

  “Oh, a little monster,” Andrea said. “That could still be fun if you got to eat cookies. What else happened?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t remember now.”

  “That’s okay. That means it can’t scare you now,” Andrea suggested.

  She started to let go of him and he clung harder. “I want you to babysit me again,” he said. “Daddy can go away and you can watch me, like you did when Mommy was here.”

  “I liked babysitting,” Andrea agreed. “We always had a lot of fun, didn’t we. But aren’t you cold? Let’s get dressed in your PJ’s, silly naked boy.”

  Trevor sighed and obediently let Andrea help him into his abandoned clothing.

  In so many ways, it had been much easier with Harriette here. More nights than not, Trevor’s mother had appointments to show houses or talk business, and she’d been happy to throw a few dollars at Andrea to watch Trevor.

  It wasn’t good pay, but Andrea felt amply rewarded by Trevor’s affection, and she had always found him to be a sweet and obedient boy, drinking up any attention she paid him like a thirsty plant. It wasn’t like she had other plans for her evenings.

  And she’d never once had inappropriate ideas about Harriette.

  She’d tried to like the woman, and though Andrea had never exactly succeeded in that attempt, their relationship had also never been complicated.

  Not like her not-a-relationship with Shaun.

  “That’s more like it,” she told Trevor encouragingly. “Now come get the biggest hug in the smallest world and I’ll cover you in blankets and chase out all the bad dreams.”

  Almost staggering in exhaustion, Trevor slowly complied, and he was unconscious by the time Andrea quietly crept out of the room.

  Downstairs, Shaun was pacing, and he looked badly disturbed.

  “I’m... sorry,” he said haltingly.

  “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” Andrea assured him.

  Shaun frowned, and his jaw worked.

  “It’s not weird that Trevor asked for me,” she added. “I’m the novelty. You don’t need to feel like he doesn’t love you or anything.” Did her voice catch a little, on the word love?

  Shaun’s expression only grew darker.

  Andrea cast about for something else that might be worrying him. “Is this because he was naked?” Andrea asked. “I assure you, that is completely normal. We had one little girl last year who stripped naked and went streaking through the parents right in the middle of our Halloween party, her mom chasing after her waving her costume around.”

  Shaun gave a short, gruff laugh. “I’m... really grateful for everything,” he said.

  Andrea bit her lip, confused by the dismissal in his voice, and searched his face for the invitation she was expecting.

  She found only distance and doubt, and when she reached out in an automatic attempt to comfort him, he didn�
��t sway towards her like he did on other nights.

  She let her hand drop back to her side.

  “I... should get home,” she offered, hoping he would have a better suggestion.

  “Thanks again,” was all he said.

  So she went home... and wondered why the place felt less like home than ever.

  Chapter 23

  “He’s five, Dad.”

  At the other end of the phone, there was thoughtful silence, then concession. “That’s early for shifting,” Shaun’s father agreed.

  “I’m not sure what to make of it,” Shaun said, hoping he didn’t sound as despairing as he felt. “Is this my fault? Is it too much stress?”

  “Son, you always have tried to shoulder more than your share of the blame for things. That’s why you end up in these situations.”

  Shaun tried to decide if that was a compliment framed as a criticism, or a criticism framed as a compliment.

  There was another pause. “You said he was a lion cub?” Shaun recognized the sly, pleased tone in his father’s voice.

  Shaun sighed. “Yeah, Dad. A lion cub. Like you.”

  Damien Powel had always been disappointed that Shaun had taken after his mother and grown up to be a tiger shifter. Looking back on his childhood, the lion-themed nursery and the lion toys he’d received for holiday gifts until puberty seemed to lack subtlety.

  “And he’s never shifted before?”

  “I guess not. It wasn’t like Harriette really kept me updated on him, but I think this was the sort of thing she would bring up.”

  “Never thought much of that woman,” Damien said candidly.

  Add that to the list of ways he’d disappointed his father.

  “I called to find out if anyone in our family had ever shifted that early.”

  “It’s earlier than I’ve ever heard of,” Damien said dismissively. “Most shifters figure out what they are at puberty, like you did, and like your sister did.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “I wouldn’t be,” Damien said, with the same confidence that had carried him through two marriages and shot him to the top of the engineering management industry. “It’s only happened twice, it sounds like. Under pretty extenuating circumstances, both times.”

  Shaun clung to that hope. “You don’t think it will happen again?”

  “I’d avoid letting him get that tired in public, but you’re probably okay.”

  “Dad...” Shaun’s courage failed him.

  “Spit it out, Son.”

  Shaun closed his eyes. “Was Mom your mate? Or Linda, when you remarried?”

  “My what?”

  “Your mate.”

  On the other end of the line, Shaun could hear his father lean back and give a roar of laughter.

  Then Damien sobered.

  “Wait, you’re serious?”

  “Very serious,” Shaun said, thinking of the way Andrea felt like something he’d lost and never realized was missing.

  “You don’t think that Harriette was your mate, do you Son?” There was something like horror in his father’s voice. “Is she giving you some destiny song and dance to try to get back together with you?”

  Shaun’s knee-jerk reaction was disgust and revulsion. Trying to equate any part of the bond he had with Andrea to his relationship with Harriette felt wrong at a bone-deep level.

  “No. Hell, no.” Shaun was not sure he had ever sworn in front of his father before. “Not for a moment.”

  “Good,” his father said firmly. “I hope you see that gold-digger for the shallow bi—”

  “Dad!” Shaun reprimanded. “I won’t speak ill of Trevor’s mother.”

  Damien was silent.

  Shaun could not quite keep himself from adding, “Even when I’m thinking it really loudly.”

  Another roar of laughter followed.

  Shaun found himself wondering if this was the first time he had made his father laugh twice in one phone call. He felt like this whole conversation ought to come with some sort of adulting award.

  “So if it’s not Harriette making you wonder about mate nonsense, who is it?” Shaun’s father finally asked.

  “No one,” Shaun said, regretting his impulse to bring it up. “I haven’t got time for a relationship.”

  He remembered the words on his divorce court papers, condemning him as too busy for the demands of parenthood or marriage.

  As if he had sensed the direction of Shaun’s thoughts, Damien asked, “How’s the business going?”

  Shaun had been grateful to find that most of what he needed to do could be done from Green Valley. But the longer he stayed, the more he found himself delegating. He couldn’t be at a meeting in person, so it made more sense to have one of his managers in control of that client’s paperwork, until he was only managing a handful of low-pressure clients himself.

  And he didn’t miss it.

  He thought that he’d loved his business because he used it to escape the misery of his marriage, and later it was the only thing of interest in his rattlingly empty life. But he hadn’t done more than glance over his portfolios and he was weeks behind on his research reading.

  “That bad?” Damien asked dryly as he realized that he’d been silent too long.

  “No... it’s just. I’m thinking about stepping down.”

  “That bad?” His father would assume the worst.

  “No,” Shaun snapped. “The business is doing fine. And it’s doing fine without much of me. I’m not hurting for money, and it might be nice to do something else for a while.”

  Not hurting for money was an understatement. Lucky markets timed to a period of his life when he was particularly aggressive about the business meant that he looked brilliant in ledgers. He might only have millions to his father’s billions, but by Green Valley standards, he could live like a king for a century and still leave a respectable trust to ensure that his son was never a pauper.

  “Something else like...?”

  “Green Valley doesn’t have a bakery,” Shaun said impulsively.

  He didn’t think that the sound his father made qualified as a third laugh; it was too choked and skeptical.

  “You’d seriously stay in that ridiculous, cow-filled country town and be a baker?”

  Shaun cursed himself silently. He could have just said that he wanted to spend more time with Trevor. But at least the idea of his son doing something as pedestrian as opening a bakery was distracting his father from the question about mates.

  “It was great to catch up with you, Dad,” he said caustically. “Thanks for the advice. I’ve got to go pick Trevor up from preschool pretty soon here. We’ll talk again soon.”

  “Wait!”

  Shaun paused in the act of taking his cellphone from his ear. “Yes?” he finally said.

  There was a moment of silence on the line. “I haven’t seen Trevor since he was a baby. Do you think he’d appreciate a visit with his grandfather?”

  Shaun could not help the slow smile that crept over his face. He didn’t even care if this new interest in Trevor was because he had turned out to be a lion shifter. “Yeah, Dad. I think he’d like that.”

  Damien cleared his throat. “We’ll have to arrange something then,” he said formally. There was another moment of silence, and he reluctantly added, “And you’ve always been a very, ah, adequate baker. Your cinnamon rolls would be a solid seller. I could put you in touch with some people I know in the food sales industry.”

  The silence this time was shock on Shaun’s part. It was as unqualified a compliment as he’d ever gotten from his father.

  “It’s still just an idea,” he felt obligated to say. “I haven’t decided what I’m doing yet.”

  “Sure,” Damien said gruffly. “Go pick up that boy of yours, then.”

  Shaun hung up in befuddlement.

  That conversation had not gone anything like he had expected it to.

  Chapter 24

  “Can I get you a refill?” Andre
a offered.

  She ignored the coughing fit that Devon had two tables down.

  “I’d love one.” Shaun was startled into looking up at her, and for one brief moment, Andrea accidentally met his gaze.

  “Can I have more chocolate milk?” Trevor asked eagerly, interrupting what would have become entirely too long a stare.

  Shaun’s silvery eyes turned to his son. “I think you should wait and eat your food,” he said reluctantly. “You don’t want to fill up on that.”

  He glanced at Andrea, this time for support, and Andrea gave a subtle nod of encouragement.

  He’s working so hard to be a good dad, she reminded herself. Even if she wanted more, she couldn’t argue with Shaun’s reasons for keeping their relationship strictly physical. There was no romance, no hand-holding, no flirting, no professions of love. They didn’t share anything personal, and Andrea never left anything at his house or stayed the night.

  And that ought to be enough, Andrea told herself firmly, moving on to offer a refill to Devon’s iced tea as well, ignoring his smirk.

  Her hawk still mournfully insisted that there ought to be more, that they were mates and should be sharing one nest.

  Andrea hated to admit how much she wanted the same thing, and how much she still hoped there might be more someday.

  “Evening, Tawny,” Andrea said, jerking her attention away from her juvenile longing.

  Tawny Summer was half of the local post office, and had been delivering mail to all of Green Valley as long as Andrea could remember. Andrea led her to one of the booths. “Get you something to drink?”

  She had to ask again because she was watching Shaun, past Tawny, as he said something that made Trevor laugh so hard that the little boy nearly fell out of his chair.

  She delivered the refills without making eye contact with Shaun or Devon, and startled when Tawny asked her quietly, “What’s wrong, Andrea?” as Andrea was taking her food order.

  “Wrong?” Andrea said brightly. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything is just... fine. Perfect. Just... thinking over a story or two. Being my usual air-headed self, I guess.” She gave a trill of laughter that sounded false to her own ears and to her sulking hawk.