Backstroking With a Tiger Shark

by Charlie Richards

  Kane nodded slowly, turning his head so he could hold his gaze. He licked his lips. “So, uh, about the, uh—” His brows furrowed as his gaze slid forward and down. “What did I see, Tort?” Evidently, another thought struck him, for he asked, “Is that why you people own all this land? My sister told me it’s all privately owned. Is it because you have a, uh, a whatever the hell that thing was living among the shoals?”

  “Babe, do you believe there’s more out there than humans?” Tort decided to just take the plunge and see where it led.

  “You mean like aliens?” Kane glanced over his shoulder at Tort, a scowl on his face.

  Tort continued to clean the scrapes on Kane’s back even as he shook his head. “No, babe. Not like aliens.” He shrugged and tipped his head. “Although I suppose that’s totally possible. Aliens, I mean. Never really thought about it.”

  Why think about aliens when my own life is odd enough?

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  Done cleaning Kane’s back, Tort fought with his desire to explore the smooth flesh before him. Instead, he managed to put aside his disinfectant wipe and eased the shirt back down. Tort set the first aid kit aside, then settled on his ass and pulled Kane into his arms sideways.

  Tort encouraged Kane to rest his right shoulder against his chest, then cupped his jaw and urged him to meet his gaze. “Babe,” he whispered softly. “Some things you read about in mythology, in stories, they are true.”

  Kane opened his mouth, but a second later he snapped it shut again. His brows furrowed as he peered up at him. For a few seconds, he just stared.

  “Okay. I’ll bite,” Kane whispered, his tone uncertain, wary. “What kind of things?” Then he blanched and stiffened. “Are you talking about werewolf and vampire myths?”

  “Yes.”

  When Kane’s eyes widened even further and his jaw sagged open, Tort rolled one shoulder in a half-shrug. “No, werewolves do not exist. At least not what you see in movies,” he amended. Threading his fingers through Kane’s hair, Tort urged him to tilt his head a little. When his mate obeyed, he took advantage.

  Tort sealed his lips over Kane’s, teasing at his lips for an instant, lapping and sucking. When his mate opened to him, he thrust in his tongue, tasting the man’s unique, heady flavor. Knowing he could get out of hand so damn fast, he forced himself to end the kiss and lift his head.

  “We call ourselves paranormals,” Tort told Kane bluntly. “We are not human, although many of us look like it most of the time.” Seeing Kane’s shoulders tighten and the shock filling his eyes, Tort realized what he’d just admitted. He sighed, swallowing hard and praying that what he was about to say didn’t send his kind, sexy human running. “Yes.” He jerked a nod. “Yes, I am a paranormal, too.”

  Considering the disbelieving look on his human’s face, Tort decided he’d best take it one step further. “When we first met, you asked me why I thought the tiger shark didn’t eat you. Well... ” Tort dipped his head and nuzzled his mate’s temple for a few seconds. Then he whispered into Kane’s ear, “I am a shifter. That tiger shark was me. Your blood perfuming the water was the most wonderful, intoxicating smell... ”

  Tort fought back a tremble as his skin goose bumped just at the memory. On top of that, the aroma of Kane’s blood still perfumed the air. The way it mixed with the salty sea breeze caused his senses to sing in the best damn way.

  “Are you—” Kane swallowed hard, the scent of his arousal pouring off him even as disbelief marred it a little. “Are you on drugs? ‘Cause, you sound... or maybe... do you have medication you should be on?” Kane’s brows furrowed as he shifted a little away from him. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re bipolar or schizophrenic or one of those other mental disorder names that I don’t actually know what they mean, because, hey, I’m gay, and sometimes you’re just born that way.” He offered a wide smile, obviously trying to make light of his words... or soothe maybe... even as he told Tort he thought he was completely nuts.

  “I’m not on drugs,” Tort assured. “As a shifter, I have heightened senses and the instincts of an animal.” He hesitated an instant, then revealed, “Anything that screws with that is actively avoided due to our animal instincts, and we tend to avoid anything or anyone with an overwhelming smell, taste, sound, or similar.” After a second, he added, “Other than our mate, anyway.”

  Kane stared up at him for several minutes. “Okay, um, why don’t you start from the beginning?” He eased a little further away from Tort, but not out of contact completely. Instead, he rested his butt against the crook of Tort’s knee as he peered up at him. “What do you mean you can turn into a tiger shark?” He pointed toward the rocks. “You mean, like that naked man you were talking with that changed into that octopus?”

  A second later, Kane scowled at him. “Why the hell were you talking with a naked guy, anyway? You’re on a date with me, goddammit!” Growling softly under his breath, he glared at him. “And why the fuck am I so jealous? I just met you. It makes no goddamned sense.” He heaved a sigh. “None of this makes sense.”

  “I’ll answer every single one of those questions,” Tort assured, grabbing Kane’s hand. He squeezed it lightly, then brought it to his mouth to peck a kiss to his palm. “Please, I beg you. Just try to listen with an open mind.”

  It took several long seconds, but Kane finally offered a slow nod.

  “Odd news is always shared best over a good meal,” Tort stated, grabbing the picnic basket and tugging it close to his thigh. “We’ll share food. I’ll explain. And—” Tort pulled out a tub of rib meat that had already been pulled off the bones. “I will feed you, and you will listen, then ask questions.”

  After Kane had nodded again, Tort began sharing the food he’d brought with his mate. He fed his mate and told how shifters were real, how they were totally aware while an animal, and about their search to find their soulmate.

  Tort had thought everything was going well... until he’d explained how it was Fate that chose a shifter’s mate and boosted their attraction, allowing them to overcome inhibitions, urging them to spend time together.

  “Do you mean the only reason you’re attracted to me is because of Fate?”

  While Tort knew many humans initially thought that, he still struggled with a way to make Kane understand that he’d been searching for him for over one hundred and fifty years.

  Tort opened his mouth, but the sound of his phone interrupted him. Frowning, he pulled it off his belt and stared at it, surprised to see Clarice’s name on the screen. Seeing as it was Kane’s sister, he figured he should take it.

  As soon as Tort heard why the woman was calling, he wished he’d let it go to voicemail.

  Chapter Six

  Kane kept glancing at Tort, uncertain what to say.

  Shifters are real? Tort believes he is one?

  If Kane hadn’t seen that octopus guy—Cuzco, Tort had called him—change with his own two eyes, he knew he wouldn’t believe the man. Plus, that would explain why the tiger shark didn’t attack him. The fish wasn’t actually a true fish. It was something else... a paranormal, Tort had called them.

  A shifter is completely cognizant while in animal form.

  Tort said he’d smelled his blood in the water and had known... known that Kane was his mate. Evidently, Fate decided who their perfect companion would be and gave them a way to recognize that person. Tort believed Kane to be that special someone.

  Kane had mixed feelings on that particular nugget of information. While he understood the concept of love at first sight—he knew a guy at work, Phil, who believed it would happen to him—he’d always viewed it as sappy romanticism. It wasn’t real.

  Tort definitely believed it was real.

  Shifters live for centuries, up to five hundred years or more sometimes.

  Oh, I’m one hundred eighty-two years old, and once we bond, you’ll live as long as I will.

  Talk about the fountain of yo
uth! No wonder they kept their existence a secret. People would kill for less.

  You can’t tell anyone, even family.

  Kane hated the idea of keeping secrets from Clarice. He and his sister had always been honest about everything. Hiding such a huge thing from her was going to be damn difficult.

  “I’m sorry our date got interrupted,” Kane finally murmured. Staring at Tort, he saw the lines of tension on his face, the apprehension in his eyes. Unable to leave it as it was, and knowing he needed a chance to ask questions, he reached over and touched Tort’s forearm. “Will you come in? If this is something I can fix quick, I’d like to talk to you some more.”

  As much as the call—or calls, as Clarice had told him—was sort of good, giving Kane’s brain a bit of time to process everything he’d been told, he wondered just how much time he’d need. He couldn’t even fathom trying to formulate questions.

  What should I even ask?

  How will this impact me?

  Except, that seemed pretty self-explanatory. Tort was a shifter, changing into a tiger shark. His place at Aquatica afforded him safety. Kane couldn’t very well ask him to leave there. His date had a hell of a lot more to lose than just a job.

  “Yeah, I’ll come in,” Tort replied, drawing Kane out of his renewed confusion. He grabbed Kane’s hand and threaded their fingers together, placing their twined hands on the console between their seats. “Thank you.” He squeezed Kane’s hand lightly, then mumbled, “I’m feeling more than a little vulnerable right now, Kane. Thank you for picking up on that.”

  Kane sighed, squeezing Tort’s hand back. “Yeah, Tort,” he responded slowly, racking his brain for the right response. “I can’t imagine how much faith it took to share all that with me... and then to agree to take me back to my sister when she called.”

  Tort heaved a sigh through pursed lips, but he didn’t respond as he turned his truck into Clarice’s driveway.

  Deciding to try to offer a little comfort of his own, Kane lifted Tort’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “Yeah, I’m freaking out inside, Tort,” he whispered, lowering their hands. “What happened out there? That was a lot to take in, but I get how important this whole mate thing is to you.”

  Holy shit! Some shifters spend hundreds of years all alone trying to find what they considered the other halves of their soul?

  “We’ll work this out.”

  Somehow.

  Tort nodded and smiled, his deep gray eyes holding a wealth of relief. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I appreciate you saying that.”

  Unable to think of anything else, Kane released Tort, then slid from the vehicle. He winced a little as his fresh wounds twinged, but it wasn’t so bad. He’d had far worse from the couple gay bashings he’d endured years before.

  When Tort joined Kane while striding up the walk, he settled his hand on his lower back. Kane couldn’t help but cringe as his thumb slid across a fresh wound. Tort yanked his hand away, his tanned face flushing deeply.

  Kane could guess what he actually thought, that he didn’t want Tort to touch him due to him not being human. “I’m sorry,” Kane told him, offering him a smile. “Your thumb hit a tender spot.” Seeing the door open ahead, he lowered his voice and quickly added, “I actually enjoy your touch very much.”

  The relief that flashed through Tort’s expressive gray eyes was nearly a palpable thing.

  “Kane? I’m so sorry to have called you,” Clarice called, catching his attention. “I wouldn’t have but the sound of Wendy’s voice, well, it changed over the course of her voicemails, going from anger to frustration to panic.” She crossed her arms over her chest as her brows pinched in worry. “Wendy even left her cell number. Said to call her day or night. Something about the Nesky account?”

  Nodding, Kane grabbed Tort’s hand and resumed heading up the walk. Clarice’s gaze slipped to their joined hands, and the concern in her expression eased into one of pleasure. Kane had to smile, too. It’d been a long time since he’d had a guy he wanted to call his own.

  At least I know I wouldn’t have to worry about cheating or abuse. God damn. Isn’t that what everyone wants to be assured of in the man they love?

  Pushing that thought from his mind, Kane hurried into the house, Tort following close behind. Clarice backed up as he approached until she was in the living room. The quiet of the house told him Kent had already gone to bed and Marie was most likely in her room.

  Clarice held up the new phone Kane had picked up that morning. He’d left it off as it’d charged the first time and hadn’t given it a second thought. His sister offered it to him.

  “I’m so sorry,” Clarice told him again, nibbling her bottom lip. “I was nosy. You know how nosy I am. It said it was done charging, and I turned it on because I was curious about your work, and I—”

  “It’s fine,” Kane cut in, taking the phone from her. “Really. I should have checked it before I left.”

  Kane crossed to the sofa and settled on it. It wasn’t until Tort sat next to him, close enough that their thighs brushed, that he realized he still held the man’s hand. Smiling at him, feeling slightly self-conscious, Kane released Tort’s hand, then accessed his voicemail.

  “Hi, Kane.” Wendy’s voice came over the speaker. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your vacation, but I need to know if you’re aware that Pierce is trying to change the design being promoted to Arthur Nesky. I remember how closely you worked with Mr. Nesky and how you said he was quite exacting and focused on that design in particular. Were you aware of the change? Did Mr. Nesky say he was open to other options?”

  “Oh, son-of-a-bitch,” Kane mumbled as he saved the message and moved on to the next one. “Why would he—”

  “Hi, Kane,” Wendy started again. “Again, I’m so very sorry to call you on your vacation, but Pierce just gave his presentation to Mr. Nesky and now Mr. Nesky is asking for you. He’s not happy. I told him you were on vacation, and he said that was fine, but he didn’t want to deal with Pierce, so the entire deal is on hold. Pierce is angry. I’m sure you’re going to have a voicemail from him, too.” Wendy paused for a few seconds, then continued in a lower tone. “He’s only been manager three days, and already he’s making a mess of your accounts. You know and I know that this is a vendetta against you. He’s such a bigoted asshole, and we both know he must have kissed some serious ass to get that promotion.” She paused again, then heaved a sigh. “Hope you’re enjoying your vacation.” Then she told Kane to call her anytime and left her cell number before disconnecting.

  As Wendy had rambled on, Kane’s gut had clenched. His heart rate had spiked. Even his palms had begun to sweat. He just barely had enough sense to push the save button so the next recording could begin.

  Pierce had gotten the promotion? When had that happened? Why? Kane didn’t think management was going to make a decision for another couple of weeks.

  Pierce got my promotion? What the hell?

  Pierce’s snide, condescending voice came through the line. “Hello, Kane. Call me back as soon as possible. Arthur Nesky is unhappy with your designs.” His tone turned even colder as he continued. “You told Carla that Arthur had approved your designs, but that isn’t the case. If your cock-up costs us his business, you know where the blame will fall. Fix this.”

  Hearing that certainly hadn’t helped Kane’s frustration.

  Kane growled low in his throat as the phone beeped, signaling the end of the message. The electronic phone voice told him he had no more messages, so he lowered it from his ear and hit the disconnect button. Scowling at the floor, his mind reeled.

  “Babe?” Tort crooned softly. “Those didn’t sound too good. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Jerking his focus to Tort, Kane saw his soothing, sympathetic expression.

  God, when was the last time I had a boyfriend that supported me? Or hell, even asked if he could help?

  Never.

  “Unfortunately, no,”
Kane replied. Seeing Tort’s concerned expression, he added, “It’s not that Mr. Nesky is difficult, it’s that he knows exactly what he wants and doesn’t accept anything less.” He grimaced, thinking of Pierce’s attitude. “Pierce is an asshole who thinks his ideas are always the best ones. I don’t know how he pleases any clients since he doesn’t listen to anyone else’s ideas.” Kane returned his focus to the floor as he softly added, “And I don’t know how he got the manager position.”

  While Kane felt a small measure of disappointment at missing out on the promotion, he could also admit to a bit of relief, too. His love really was the design and presentation part of his job. He enjoyed taking a client’s ideas and shaping them into something amazing, something that made the client happy.

  “Thank you for the offer though, Tort.” Kane turned toward the other man. He rested his new phone on his leg, then reached for him, cradling his jaw. “You’re something else, ya know?”

  Tort nuzzled into his hold, his eyelids sliding to half-mast. “Something good, I hope.” His nostrils flared in obvious pleasure as he enjoyed Kane’s touch.

  “Yeah,” Kane murmured, leaning close.

  Kane pressed a kiss to Tort’s lips. Mindful of the fact that he was sitting in the living room of his sister’s house, he kept the touch light, chaste, even though every desire in him screamed for him to deepen the kiss. Easing away from the other man, he sighed deeply, hating what he had to say next.

  “I have to deal with this customer in person,” Kane whispered. Meeting Tort’s gaze, he admitted, “I need to fly back to San Diego ASAP.”

  To Kane’s surprise, when he spotted the disappointment in Tort’s eyes, his own mirrored it.

  Kane really didn’t want to leave.

  * * * *

  “Are you okay?”

  Tort lifted his focus from the bacon cheeseburger he’d been eating... or maybe just staring at. He met Kaiser’s gaze, then noticed that not only had the older brother stopped before his table, but so had William as well as Doc Keller. Swallowing hard, he forced a smile to his lips.