Naomi and Tyler (Plenty of Shift Book 2)

by Carina Wilder

  “So?” asked Miri when she’d entered the office, releasing the ferret shifter from her temporary prison after the second candidate had left.

  “Tyler,” Naomi said, standing and stretching her arms over her head to let the last of the tension melt away. “Definitely.”

  “Well, that was easy. But I’ve got to know—why did you pick him?”

  Naomi pondered the question for a moment before replying. “Needless to say, he’s gorgeous. But ultimately it’s because I want to help him. He needs someone. And I think he could help me, too.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t know if I can explain it. Just—he’s an injured bird who hasn’t quite figured out how to fly with whatever wounds he has. And it makes him a little angry. But he wants so badly to be happy—he wants to be free of whatever’s keeping him down. Anyone who wants something, who’s determined to have it, usually gets it. And if he’s a good man, he deserves the best. Besides, I like the idea of a man who needs me and isn’t afraid to ask for help. To me that’s as masculine a quality as there is.”

  “Well, it seems that you’ve got him and yourself all figured out,” smiled Miri. “Then I’ll tell him your choice and have him get in touch with you.”

  “Good. But wait until tomorrow, would you? I don’t want to seem overly eager.”

  “Will do. But remember—we have that Fundraising Gala tomorrow night at the Hospital.”

  “Oh, crap. I’d totally forgotten. Well, I suppose it’s a good thing. It’ll give me an excuse to play Slightly-Hard-To-Get if he should ask me out right away.”

  “Don’t be too hard to get though, hon. I think Tyler might like a woman who lets him know what she wants.”

  “I’ll be smart. Something tells me I’ll ultimately be very easy to get, at least for this one. I’d like very much for him to grab me and never let go.”

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Tyler lay in bed in his apartment, immediately recalling his interview with Miri. He interlocked his fingers behind his head, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he considered the strange experience.

  While the professional matchmaker had been asking him questions, he’d noticed her eyeing the large mirror in her living room more than once. That, combined with the fact that his acute sense of smell had picked up the scent of a second woman, another shifter, had made him curious. It was possible that the other woman was hiding out in the apartment somewhere, listening in on their conversation. And for one reason or another, the thought of it made him smile. The scent was pleasing—alluring and delicate at once. In addition to that, he was pleased that he’d been honest in his replies; well, as honest as he could be. He’d always hidden himself a little behind an invisible wall and didn’t seem able to escape his own reticence, but at least he’d tried to open up a little bit.

  A part of him wanted to find a woman who could tear the wall down. But another part wanted to maintain it forever as a shield, and to find a woman who could simply understand why he needed it so badly.

  He rose, stretching, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton boxers as he caught a view of himself in the long mirror next to his dresser. He knew that women found him attractive, as they did most lion shifters. But he could never see it, whatever appeal it was that he was supposed to have. Instead he saw damage and weakness. None of the strength and power that he was supposed to possess; none of the supposed good looks. And as he wandered to the kitchen to make his morning coffee, he wondered if there was a woman on earth who could put up with him. If she was out there, he already felt sorry for her. Dealing with a mess like him couldn’t be high up on anyone’s priority list.

  When he’d downed his breakfast of coffee and a small bowl of cereal, he dressed and rode his motorcycle over to his Sovereign’s place. Lucas, the head of the Shardik Pride and Tyler’s boss, had told him that he wanted some experience on his own new cruising bike, and Tyler had promised to show him around the quiet country roads on the perimeter of Grayson City.

  “You ready for this?” he shouted as he watched his boss leave the building and walk towards him at nine a.m., helmet in hand. Lucas was tall, powerful and so handsome that he all but literally had to fight women off on a regular basis. Though more often than not, he welcomed them into his bed rather than resist their allure. He wasn’t particularly keen on sustaining meaningful relationships for more than a few hours at a time, and had always seemed to Tyler to be perfectly happy with that aspect of his life.

  “Am I ready?” Lucas said, chuckling. “I don’t know if it’s possible to be ready for a ride with the likes of you. Just don’t get me killed, okay? Don’t forget that I pay you to keep me alive.”

  “I’ll do my best to not be directly responsible for your demise, how’s that?”

  “That doesn’t sound promising at all.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Tyler was a vigilant and responsible bodyguard. But when he got on his bike, instinct tended to take over, and this ride would be no exception. At first, he guided Lucas out of town at a conservative speed, obeying laws and the rules of traffic etiquette. But once they hit the city limits, the bodyguard hit the gas, propelling the bike forward as its engine raged under him.

  Lucas could see immediately that his protector was taking him on what would become more like an insane race than a leisurely cruise, Tyler’s bike seeking to break the sound barrier as it disappeared into the distance. Lucas had once heard him say that his rides were an escape. Far from responsibility, from traffic, angry humans, and angry shifters. But the Sovereign, who’d grown to know Tyler well over the months, had always assumed that the real escape was from his own mind.

  * * *

  And as he sped forward, Tyler all but forgot about the important shifter on the bike behind his. As soon as he was free of city traffic he accelerated to a speed that most people would have considered nuts.

  How do normal people do it, anyhow? he asked himself as his body and the bike swept over the paved road, leaving a long spray of flying leaves and dust in their wake. How do other people just go along with their daily lives without driving their fists regularly into punching bags, or riding around with a shitload of horsepower between their legs?

  Well, he wasn’t intending to find out, ever. The woman who may or may not choose him, however special she was, however appealing—would not tell him to compromise who he was for her. He would never give up his bike or his gloves for anyone. He would try his best be devoted—if they got along—but he wouldn’t surrender his needs. And if she cared about him, she’d try to understand.

  As his bike surged forward between his muscular thighs, his eyes fixed themselves on the vanishing point where the road disappeared in the distance. And for the briefest moment he felt free. Unstoppable. Even if a tree appeared in his path, it wouldn’t matter much. He felt almost as though he could shoot right through it.

  Well, no, he thought as he contemplated slowing down, almost wanting to laugh at himself for the brief illusion of power. Realistically, he’d die horribly. But at least he’d be done with life. Finished. Non-existent. No more dealing with pain or memories. No more thinking about what had passed. No more looking for the right woman, hoping that she could help to fix an unfixable man.

  No more wondering if anyone could ever accept him as he was.

  He’d gone four miles at breakneck speed before he turned onto a side road flanked by widely spaced farms and slowed to a stop, pulling over onto the dirt shoulder, and dismounted. Stepping down into the shallow ditch by the road he took off his helmet and sat down, soaking in the sun’s late afternoon rays as he looked out at tall waves of gold, shimmering in a delicate unison along the expanse of someone else’s property.

  Shit. The sudden thought sprang to his mind, even as he’d begun to relax. Lucas. He spun his head sharply around to see if the Sovereign was on the road, but there wasn’t a trace of him. Great. Apparently Tyler had managed to lose the very shifter he was supposed to protect.


  But after a minute or so, the familiar sound of a bike’s engine crescendoed nearby, and he exhaled. At least he hadn’t killed the guy, even if he had no doubt pissed him off. The Sovereign was young—only in his late twenties—but some indomitable force surrounded him. At times he could be all smiles and charm, but when he turned aggressive, anyone could see why he led the powerful Lion Pride. Tyler knew that he could get fired or worse for his irresponsible behaviour.

  But Lucas seemed to be in a particularly good mood.

  “Hey, man,” he chastised, taking his seat on the damp grass next to his employee after he’d managed to park his cruiser. “I thought I’d lost you back there. Seriously, what gives with the velocity?”

  “Sorry,” said Tyler. “I needed to get it out of my system.”

  “You okay?”

  “I am now. Sometimes I forget about the world and just go. Call it a release. Sorry I did it on your time, though. I sort of forgot about you.”

  “That’s okay, you asshole,” the Sovereign said, grinning. “At least I knew about your quirks before agreeing to today’s activities. You know, you could release in healthier ways. I hear there’s this thing called sexual intercourse.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of it too. You release with a different lady every couple of hours, from what I understand.”

  “Hey, is that any way to talk to your boss?”

  “Probably not. Did I offend you with the insinuation that you’re a bit of a…?”

  “Nope. And you can say it—I’m a male slut.”

  “I think the correct term is ‘stud.’”

  “Nah, that’s a double standard. I fully take on the title of slut, if women have to be subjected to it. It’s a bad habit of mine, and something I should get over one of these days, I suppose. But we were talking about you. What’s this I heard about you hitting a dating service yesterday?”

  “I had a meeting with the woman who runs Plenty of Shift—you heard of it?”

  “A little. It’s for shifters exclusively, right?”

  “So far. Not sure if that’ll change. Fact is, I thought it was time I did something a little less dangerous to relax.”

  “Like a beautiful woman?”

  “Yeah. But I haven’t put myself out there, well, ever. I don’t usually get close to people. I don’t like being…”

  “Vulnerable?”

  “Could you have picked a more feminine word?”

  “Floral?”

  “Okay, point taken.” Tyler laughed. “No, I don’t like being vulnerable. I don’t like letting anyone near me.”

  “I know. I knew that the first time I met you. It’s why I hired you.”

  “Oh?”

  “A guy who’s unattached to anyone takes more risks, especially when it comes to his own personal safety. That makes you the ideal candidate for a bodyguard. But now that you’re getting hooked up, you’ll end up in love like all the other saps out there, and what good will you be then?”

  “So are you saying you’ll fire me if I find myself falling for a lady?”

  “Probably not. You’re the best guard I have—if I don’t count the times when you’ve gone barreling around the countryside like a suicidal moron. But I’d be an idiot to get rid of you. So tell me, how does this work—this Plenty of Shift company sets you up with someone?”

  “Something like that, yeah. I gather that Miri—that’s the owner—gives the woman some information about me and some other man, and she picks the one she wants to date.”

  “Ah. So you’re playing the waiting game now, at the mercy of some alluring female who may or may not select you for her pleasure.”

  “Yep.”

  “And worried that she won’t choose you. And what’s the worst thing that happens if she doesn’t?”

  “I go on with my life. But I’m more worried that she will.”

  “And if she does?”

  “Well, I might like her—a lot. And then she might find out about my past, run away screaming and crush my soul forever. I fall to the ground, a blubbering mess of emotion and tears, and every lion shifter in the vicinity realizes that I’m useless. I lose my job, my friends and everything else. I end up living in a mouldy box in an alley, eating grubs and wild mushrooms for nourishment.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “That’s because you’re an asshat with no heart.”

  “You got that right.”

  In his pocket Tyler felt his cell phone buzz, alerting him to a message. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. The dark mood that had set in evaporated for a moment, a smile setting in on his lips as he read the words:

  She’s chosen you. Her name is Naomi and she’s a ferret shifter. I’ll email you her phone number. —Miri.

  Tyler’s chest expanded temporarily with pride before he allowed himself to deflate. Much as it was great to be selected over another man, it was a lot of pressure. And he might not be able to live up to whatever expectations this Naomi had for him.

  “Good news, I take it?” said Lucas. “You don’t smile like that often.”

  “Potentially good news. Looks like I’ll be going on a date with a ferret shifter.”

  “A ferret, huh? Be careful. I hear that once they sink their teeth into you, they never let go.”

  “Well, here’s hoping that’s exactly what I need. And that she doesn’t use her teeth if she goes down on me.” He leaned back, hands flat on the ground, as he looked out at the scenery. “You know, this is what I’d like to share with someone. A beautiful day; sun reflecting off a golden field…”

  “You’re so fucking romantic. Besides, you’re sharing it with me, so you’ve got that bit covered.”

  “Well, forgive me if I don’t lean over and plant a hot kiss on your lips. I’m usually not attracted to anyone with that much stubble around their mouth.”

  “Fair enough, you frigid beast. Seriously, though, Ty—how are you feeling these days? You seem, I don’t know, ever so slightly happier than when I first met you.”

  Tyler turned his way.

  “I am happier. Not happy, exactly, of course. You know me. Happiness eludes me, as they say. But I definitely feel better than I have in a long time. The job, the Shardik Pride—they help. It’s a bit like having a new family.”

  “Good, I’m glad. You’re too hard on yourself and you deserve something good coming your way. Maybe, instead of slamming your fist into other people and riding your bike way too fast, you could have some miraculous sex with this new woman and get a new lease on life.”

  “Maybe. But remember—I haven’t met her yet. I don’t know what she’s like. She might have some kind of weird, high, squeaky ferret voice. Or smell like beets. Or…”

  “Or she might be perfect and ruin your life by actually making you fall for her.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “How about you breathe deeply and actually open yourself up to the possibility that happiness isn’t an unholy sin?”

  “Yes, your Lordship.”

  “Lordship. I like that. Maybe I’ll demand that the other Pride members refer to me that way.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.”

  Tyler lay back, flat on the grass, his eyes looking up at the clouds drifting lazily overhead.

  Yes, sharing this with someone he loved would be something. Moments of tranquility, contentment and beauty. He wanted a woman who had a sense of fun and humour, but who might occasionally rest her head on his shoulder and tell him that his presence meant something. That he was important. Even if she didn’t understand why he had to ride or to punch, he wanted to know that she understood his need to think that the world was filled with beautiful things and potential.

  Because sometimes he wondered if he was lying to himself. Maybe the world was as bleak and grim as it often seemed. Maybe everything else was a mere illusion—or delusion.

  But maybe Naomi—whoever she was—could show him that the world was a nice place after all.

  Chapter Three
/>
  Naomi had risen early as usual. Her first order of business each morning was to work on her latest novel while the coffee was hot and her brain cells were functional.

  Lately she’d been drafting a Contemporary Romance novel—her first in that genre—about a woman trying to help a man who didn’t want helping. She wondered if that was why she’d gravitated towards Tyler. Maybe the choice was just some sort of projection into her own fictional world, and the reality of it was that he didn’t want her help, or anyone’s. But hell, he’d chosen to go to a dating agency. Clearly he wanted something. And even if it was nothing more than a roll on the floor, at least she’d derive some pleasure from it—if only the pleasure of seeing that perfect body of his outside of its tight fabric casing.

  So, today Miri was going to tell him that he was her first choice. And the writer found her sometimes insecure mind playing cruel tricks on her again. What if he’d changed his mind and didn’t want to date anyone? What if he didn’t want to date her?

  Well, at least he’d never so much as seen her. It couldn’t hurt to be rejected by a man she’d never even met. Now, if he met her and then rejected her? That would sting like a swarm of wasps had jumped into her shirt and had a field day on her flesh.

  But she was nothing if not a risk taker, and this was just more of the same. No one who wrote novels for a living believed in being conservative in their life choices. And at least this way, she had a shot at spending some time with a very, very sexy man.

  At two p.m. when she’d finished the day’s writing quota, she sprinted around the apartment in ferret form. This was a routine that she used to expend the energy of a shifter; she didn’t often find excuses to shift outside of the house, but it was built into her biological makeup to want to alter her form, particularly after sitting around at a computer for hours on end. This was her release, her way of warding off stress.