by Moxie North
“Always do,” he said.
She ended the call and looked around her room waiting for a reason to appear to distract her from thinking about calling this Zane person back.
Poppy had slept so terribly the previous night that she was running on pure caffeine and a kind of jittery excitement that she couldn’t quite find a reason for.
Picking up her phone, she dialed the number that she’d memorized after listening to the voice message so many times.
It rang a few times and then was picked up.
“Yes?”
Who answered their phone that way?
“Hi, I’m calling for Zane? I’m Poppy Woodall.”
“Poppy?”
“Yes, silly name I know. But you called about an interview?”
“Yes, is that possible? I’ve never had to interview before for a… therapist.”
“Well, my services are a little new here in town. I like to make sure that I’m comfortable with you and that you’re comfortable with me before we continue.”
“I’m free now, I mean, if you are,” he said, clearing his throat.
Poppy liked that he sounded as nervous as she felt. Not cocky or pushy. It was a big turnoff when men tried to boss her around. At least she’d never liked it in the men she’d met. They used their bossiness to push her around or control her. That didn’t fly with her.
“Sure, I’ll give you my address.”
Poppy didn’t even flinch at giving her address. Something told her that she could trust this man.
He said he’d be over in ten minutes. Poppy jumped up and fast walked to the powder room. She checked her freshly washed hair. Her curls were bouncy and she’d put on a light layer of makeup. Her green eyes were sparkling like she was happy. She did feel a little happy. She couldn’t explain why, but it felt good. She brushed a non-existent piece of fuzz off her black t-shirt. She’d slid on a pair of jeans when she woke up and they were cupping her hips and ass. She didn’t look bad she thought, twisting in the mirror to get a glance at the back view.
Realizing she didn’t want to be empty handed, she put the kettle on and set out two cups and her nicest sugar cup and creamer jug shaped like a cow. Looking at the table, she thought a man might need a snack too. Firefighters did eat a lot. She’d seen them at the station. Going to the cupboard, she reached in for a package of digestive biscuits that she always kept stocked up. It took a drive to the specialty store in town, but it was worth the exorbitant price. Spying the container of creamed honey, she brought that out too just in case he wasn’t a sugar guy.
Odds were he wasn’t a tea guy, but Poppy didn’t know what else to do. She wasn’t about to offer him a beer and a bag of pretzels.
She nervously puttered around while waiting. Filling the teapot with water, pulling out the cozy her mother had crocheted, and slipping it over the pot.
Taking a seat, she stared out the window, tapping her fingers on the table.
Finally a nondescript sedan pulled up, obviously a rental. Poppy jumped up, but kept her place to see who got out. A large brute of a man folded himself out of the car. How he had fit inside in the first place she wasn’t sure. He was tall. Well over six feet. His broad shoulders were stretching a dark blue t-shirt that had a logo on the front pocket. Serenity FD. He looked at her house as if he was checking it over for safety before proceeding up the flower-lined walkway.
The doorbell rang once he was out of sight and Poppy took a deep breath and made herself walk slowly towards the door. There was a static charge in the air. Something big was about to happen.
Chapter Eight
Zane wasn’t just nervous, he was agitated. His runs hadn’t been helping. Something smelled off in town. There was a faint smell of ozone like when an electrical outlet shorted. It was something he was very familiar with and didn’t know why the whole town smelled that way.
His anger had been building, but he was doing everything he could to make sure that he fit in with his new crew. He wanted to be liked. He wasn’t about to deny it. Without his best friends, he needed the contact of his bearen coworkers to feel like he was still attached to the earth.
Never had he felt so disconnected than he had in the last few weeks. He wanted the feeling to go away. He wanted to feel whole again, he just didn’t know how to do that.
Poppy Woodall’s house seemed like something out of an advertisement for the American Dream Home. Those ads after World War Two that showed happy families with two point five children and a dog in the yard. This house looked like it should be on the cover of a magazine, old but well maintained, and warm. He could swear it was radiating the warmth of love and family.
Ringing the doorbell, he waited with anticipation. He had taken the card from the restaurant. It was in the front pocket of his jeans. He’d been rubbing it like a talisman since he got it. When he traveled with Bruin and Willow to the airport, he had to ask Bruin how he knew that Willow was his. Bruin told him that the True Mates would be named after flora, that they wouldn’t have fathers, and they would have gifts from their real angel father. Zane wasn’t going to assume that someone named Poppy had to be a True Mate, that would be a stretch. There were plenty of woman with names like that. So far only one bearen mate had been found that he knew of.
There had to be a long line of worthy shiften waiting for their mates. Zane the fatherless boy, or at least he felt that way, was probably at the bottom of that list if he was on it at all. He was just here to get that relief he so needed. It was embarrassing to have to seek out paid comfort.
But he also knew that it was still something he couldn’t deny himself.
He looked up as the door opened, the sunlight that was over his shoulder reflected off the stained glass of the window to reveal a woman. Not just any woman. It was like an angel had been dropped to earth and she had The Light shining behind her. The Light was sacred to the shiften. It was the creator of Ula, the earth they lived on, along with humans, Rhen, Khain, and the angels.
Her dark brown hair was curly with pieces framing her face. He could see there was a shine to her lips like she’d either just licked them or was wearing that gloss that made women’s lips taste like chemicals.
“Mr. Rakoff?” the beautiful woman asked, her eyes big and wide on him.
“Yes?”
“Are you not sure?”
“Sorry. I’m—uh—surprised at your age?”
She frowned at him for a moment but then smiled. “I understand, why don’t you come in.”
Zane clenched his hands into fists and pressed them to his sides to keep himself from reaching out for her. She couldn’t be glowing, it must have been a trick of the light. But he couldn’t look away. He breathed her scent in as he walked past her. It was the scent of sugar and jasmine, a floral sweetness that coated his tongue. His eyes rolled back in his head and he felt his chest expand, a vibration starting through his body. It wasn’t something he’d felt before. It came from within him and it was comforting.
“Did you say something?”
Zane tried to clear his throat, he tried to hold back the feeling inside. He coughed then coughed again, getting the purr under control. If Beau or Ren had heard him do that they would never let him live it down.
“Sorry. No, uh…” he was really struggling. Pretty women normally didn’t leave him with cottonmouth. Her scent was hitting him so hard he was finding it distracting. It made him think of things he usually kept buried.
In the past he’d partaken in ruts, but it had been a long time for him. The woman in front of him was at least a foot shorter than him. It made him think about how easy it would be to pick her up and move her around. That made him think of moving her around while they were both naked. He shook that thought off quickly. He didn’t want to be sporting an erection in front of this woman.
She directed him to the kitchen and he followed behind, taking in all of the tiny signs that this was a home. There were flowers in vases, pictures of family framed on the walls. He passed a c
ouch with a blanket draped casually over the arm like someone had recently used it to cover up and take a nap. It was lived in, loved in. It had a feeling that he could feel on his skin.
He entered the kitchen and saw the small table set with a tea set. The kitchen chairs looked a little spindly compared to his large size and he hoped to hell he didn’t make a fool of himself and break one in front of her.
Taking the seat she pointed out, he sat and rubbed his hands over his thighs.
“You mentioned I was younger than you expected?”
“Yes, I had a therapist in Wyoming that was older. I guess I just assumed it was something that older women did.” He heard the lameness pour out of his mouth and wanted to kick himself.
Poppy laughed, she didn’t seem offended. “Well, I’m twenty-five and I like helping people. I’ve been a massage therapist for five years. I started doing cuddle therapy when a friend mentioned it. I wasn’t sure about it but ended up traveling to a seminar to learn more. I loved the idea of healing with touch. I do it every day, but I realized that some people needed a different kind of touch. I appreciate you understanding my need for interviews beforehand. When I first started, well, let’s just say I had a number of people that didn’t want just hugging.”
Zane couldn’t help the growl that rolled out of him. He coughed to clear it up. He saw Poppy raise her eyebrows.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Tea?”
Zane nodded because he wasn’t about to turn down anything this woman offered. She could be serving up razor blades on a bed of glass and he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t chomp down on it.
“Sugar or honey?”
“Honey please.”
“You’ll like this. It’s locally made. We have a farm in town that harvests the honey. There’s also a restaurant you must try. It’s divine. It’s called the Honey Depot.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“So, tell me about yourself? Why are you looking for this kind of therapy?”
Zane wasn’t sure how much he should tell her. The truth wasn’t nice and it didn’t make him sound very strong. Something pushed him though, something told him that he should tell her why he was really there.
“I have a hard time releasing my anger,” he started. He probably shouldn’t have started with that, but it came out anyway.
“Anger? You’re angry?” She didn’t look scared, just concerned.
“I guess it really doesn’t have to do with my anger. I exercise a lot to get rid of that. It’s just, I didn’t grow up with a mom or any women really.”
“I’m sorry, did your mom pass?”
“Yes. My father sent me away to a… boy’s school. I was surrounded by men and boys my age. I missed out on that nurturing. I found that I feel better, cope better, when I get something close to it. I know it’s just physical, but it helps. My best friends, Beau and Ren, are the only family I’ve ever had.”
He couldn’t believe he just told her about his need to be held. It was embarrassing, but freeing at the same time.
She was quiet a moment. The pretty woman looked thoughtful. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Rakoff,” she said quietly.
“Zane, call me Zane, please.”
“Okay, Zane, I’m Poppy. I think that you’re very brave for being able to know what you need.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it brave. I think it’s more a public service so I don’t lose my shit on someone because I have pent up rage.”
Poppy giggled.
“I’m sorry, Poppy. I didn’t mean to swear.”
“Oh, please, I don’t mind at all. I think it’s very effective when describing certain situations.”
“Also, if you don’t mind. I don’t want anyone else to know about our… sessions.”
“I have complete client-patient confidentiality. I don’t believe in anyone else knowing my business so I’d never share yours. I’m terribly good at keeping secrets.”
Chapter Nine
At those words, Zane felt the urge to tell her everything. That he could turn into a bear. That most of the town she lived in, every corner in fact, had shiften in it. That the police officers were wolven, that the firefighters were bearen. At least in Serenity. They all had their places around the globe being part of the human world while keeping separate. There was a resident dragen that was said to be expecting a child. Or whatever dragons made. There was a whole world around her that she didn’t know about. Zane wanted to tell her about every bit of it.
“I’m sure you are, Poppy. I like your name, by the way.”
“Thank you. I tried to come up with a clever nickname as a child and nothing ever stuck.”
“Your parents didn’t have a nickname for you?”
“No, it’s just my mom and me. She always called me her ‘Poppy bright and true.’ A little long for a nickname.”
“Bright and true, I like that.”
They both sipped their tea, the stillness between them not uncomfortable. Zane liked it. He liked the whole scene. A brightly lit kitchen. A beautiful woman. Even sipping tea from ridiculously fragile looking cups. It was almost perfect.
“Biscuit? I get these from the specialty store. I don’t understand why every supermarket doesn’t carry them. The British know how to make the perfect cookie to go with tea. You know these can even be dipped? I don’t do that because, well, I don’t like the crumbly bits. But feel free if you want to.”
Zane gave her a smile. “I’ll skip the crumbly bits too. But I’ll try one.” He took the offered cookie and bit into it. It tasted like oatmeal doused in honey.
“It’s good,” he said chewing.
“I’m glad you like them. So, how about we schedule a time for a session? Do you do thirty minutes or an hour? I charge the same as a massage, a dollar a minute.”
Zane usually lasted thirty minutes before his inner brute would convince him that he’d had enough and he shouldn’t need more. Thirty minutes with Poppy would feel like years. So what he said next wasn’t really a surprise.
“An hour if you can fit me in?”
“Of course. I’m available tomorrow. You seem like a very calm man, Zane. I feel your frustration, I can tell…” she said, reaching her hand across the table.
Zane hesitated, her hand looked small and soft. He let go of the tiny teacup and stretched his hands across the table. Their fingertips just touched when he felt the tingle.
Her eyes got big and she gasped, then her eyes got bright, like she was going to cry. “Oh my, you’re sad and afraid.”
She said this with such certainty, as if she could peer right inside him. He didn’t deny it. She was right. He was afraid. It wasn’t a fear of anything tangible. It was a fear of being alone. He knew bearen weren’t meant to be alone. They were meant to live in large families surrounded by mothers and sisters, cousins and cubs. A community to support and rely on.
Looking at Poppy, Zane could see a future. He could see softness and love. But it was just a dream. This woman wasn’t meant for him. She was too pretty and kind. It was like someone had been watching him and created a woman who was his exact opposite. If that didn’t mean she wasn’t for him, he didn’t know what would.
“How do you know?”
She blushed, a soft pink coloring her cheeks and she looked away shyly. “I’m very intuitive. I’m sorry if I was being intrusive. I do that sometimes. I can just tell things about people.”
“You weren’t wrong, Poppy. I don’t tell anyone about this. Not even my best friends. I’m supposed to be tough and hard. Firefighters and all, but I’ve been trying to fix myself for a very long time.”
Her hand came back across the table and wrapped around his. Her touch made her scent stronger and it filled his nose.
“You don’t need to be fixed, Zane. I don’t believe people are broken. I believe we don’t give ourselves enough credit for what we do get through. Life is tough, sometimes unbearably so. Yet, we expect ourselves to battle through it all alone. Like that
is some kind of bravery. It’s not bravery if we fail because we don’t ask for help. I can’t do it alone, I know that about myself. You shouldn’t have to go it alone either. I’ll be happy to help you.”
“I’d like that,” he said. Zane couldn’t resist rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, feeling that silky skin. It was probably too personal and not appropriate, but he did it anyway.
He felt the rumble start in his chest again and pulled his hand back. That was more embarrassing than sporting wood in front of a girl.
“What works best for your schedule?” she asked.
“I’m still not on regular rotation, but I start in a few days. I have a training class in the morning then I can come by.”
“That works for me, I have to work until noon then I’m off. Let’s say 2 pm?”
Zane nodded. He didn’t like that their conversation was wrapping up. He wanted to stay. He wanted to talk with her more. Ask her about her life, about the things she liked, things she wanted to do. Was she single? He couldn’t imagine she was, but he didn’t smell anyone else on her. And he’d checked. Was she seeing anyone, dating, did she have any fuck buddies? He wanted to know everything about her.
He watched her eyes travel over his face. He had never thought that he was an overly handsome man, in fact, he knew that his constant frown gave him a menacing look. But she didn’t look scared or repulsed. She was looking at him as if she were examining him, looking for secrets that could no way show in their appearance. He had lots of secrets, ones that he was sworn to protect.
“Two, that should be good. Do you need to copy my driver’s license or have me fill out any information?” He was still stalling.
“Yes, actually. I have all my clients fill out the same information for me. Some of it may not apply to you so you can just skip over those bits. If you want you can take it with you and bring it back?”
“No! I mean, I can fill it out here if you want.” Lame, so lame.
Poppy smiled shyly at him. “Let me get them.”
