by Roxie Noir
The three of them stared at each other for a beat, and once more, Olivia felt like there was a shower of sparks washing over her, raining down over her skin, hot and icy all at once. Her bear sat up and took note, growling just a little, but she didn’t feel like it was about to burst through her skin.
This time, she didn’t open her mouth and cover her eyes or start sweating everywhere or practically have a meltdown in public.
Instead, she half-smiled. Whatever it was about these guys, she liked it. It was terrifying and overwhelming, yes, but maybe in a good way. The guy who wasn’t Jasper, with the blue eyes and the reddish short beard, lifted a few fingers in a tiny wave.
Then she turned and walked out, silently congratulating herself on acting like a normal person. It hadn’t felt any different from the first time she’d seen Jasper, taken by surprise on that bench, but at least she’d handled it better.
“You know those guys?” asked her cousin Austin.
“I met one of them really briefly,” she said. She could feel the color rising to her cheeks, just a little, at the memory. “I, um, left something on a bench and he gave it back.”
Well, he tried, she thought. Instead I ran away and he’s still got my book.
“Why, do you know them?” she went on.
He just shook his head.
“I don’t get out here enough, and it’s mostly to see family,” he said. “I’m not up on Granite Valley gossip anymore.”
Olivia laughed.
“Me either,” she said. “For obvious reasons.”
They walked up to her car, parked on the street, and stopped.
“This is me,” she said. “See you Saturday?”
Austin nodded. He had brown hair, tan skin from working in the sun, hazel eyes, and seemed to perpetually have a thin layer of stubble on his face, like he’d always forgotten to shave to a few days in a row.
“Six, at your place,” he said, then looked at her, a slight frown creasing his forehead between his eyes. “Listen, Olivia, I really want to make sure you’re comfortable with this.”
“I think I’ll be okay,” she said. “If I start freaking out, we can always just leave.”
“Of course,” Austin said. “And Barb and Bill really want you to know that Buck doesn’t represent all wolves.”
“I know he doesn’t,” Olivia said.
A tremor went through her. Buck was the wolf who’d kept her in a cage for days as retaliation for killing two of his pack. He’d only fed her kitchen scraps, though there had been one kind wolf who sneaked her steak and sausage. She wished she could remember the kind wolf’s name or what he looked like, but all she could remember was the timbre of his voice and his scent: sweat, horses, and the fresh smell of pine needles.
Kind of how Austin smelled, actually.
Must be from working on the ranch, she thought.
“It was good to see you, kiddo,” Austin said. “Can I hug you?”
Olivia wrapped her arms around her cousin and he hugged her back. He felt warm and safe, solid and protective.
I should add that to the list, she thought. Hugs from cousins.
“See you Saturday,” she said as she got into her car and drove away, Austin still watching from the sidewalk.
Olivia’s mother spent most of Saturday cooking. Olivia tried to help, though she mainly got in the way. Ultimately, her mother told her to roll out the biscuit dough and cut the biscuits while she quizzed the girl about her cousin.
“You told him he could bring his mate, right?” her mom asked, casting Olivia a sidelong look.
“I don’t think he has a mate,” Olivia answered.
She pressed the biscuit cutter into the dough, feeling the satisfying squish before it hit the counter.
“No?” her mom asked. “Still no mate? Either one?”
“I didn’t ask, mom,” Olivia said.
“And he’s still living and working on that ranch run by wolves.”
“I think so. That’s where the square dance is anyway, I didn’t really ask about that either.”
Her mom sighed dramatically.
“Have I taught you nothing?” she teased her daughter.
“Sorry,” Olivia said, teasing right back. “Next time I’ll ask for his full five-year plan, including whether he’s got a mate, what he’s doing about it, how many kids he and his imaginary mate are going to have, the whole kit and kaboodle.”
“But be subtle about it,” her mom said, winking at Olivia. “You can’t make him feel like he’s being interrogated.”
“Got it,” Olivia said, cutting the final biscuit. She put the biscuits on a baking sheet and then balanced it carefully on top of a pile of food in the fridge so they’d be fresh-baked later.
This goes on the list too, she thought, closing the fridge and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Gossiping with mom in the kitchen.
The sliding door that led from the kitchen to the back yard opened, and her dad came in.
“Smells great,” he said, reaching for a morsel.
Olivia’s mom swatted his hand away, and her dad took it back, grinning.
“I had to try,” he said.
Olivia couldn’t imagine that Austin felt anything but interrogated. The moment he came to the door, holding flowers for her mom, she made a show of looking around for his mate.
At least Austin had been doing this for a few years now, and seemed completely unruffled by the whole charade. Olivia was impressed; she probably would have shifted and tried to claw someone’s eyes out after the third time her mother dropped a heavy hint about her sister’s friend’s son, or how Austin’s cousin Julius’s mate worked for a dating site and she must know someone.
Sitting next to Austin at the long table, surrounded by her mom, her dad, and her papa, Olivia gave silent thanks that at least her mom wasn’t on her case about a mate.
Not yet, anyway. She figured she probably had six more months before her mom started pointing out cute boys at the grocery store.
At last, Olivia’s papa broke in with the other topic of the night: the wolves.
“How are they to work for?” he asked around a mouthful of pot roast.
Olivia’s mom shot him a look, but he just wiped his mustache with his napkin.
“Barb and Bill are great,” Austin said. “I’m the ranch manager now, so I do a lot of the day-to-day business. I look at more spreadsheets than most cowboys,” he said.
He took another biscuit and slathered it with butter.
“These are delicious, Aunt Lydia,” he said.
“That’s why we mated her,” said Olivia’s dad.
“Gary!” said her mom, swatting him for the second time that day.
Olivia’s papa, sitting next to them, laughed and took another bite.
“Now, Austin, you said it’s Barb and Bill,” Olivia’s mom said. “They don’t have a third?”
“They did,” Austin said. “But he died thirty years ago when he was thrown from a horse.”
“How awful!”
“We’re all very careful now.”
“Do you wear a helmet?”
A smile tugged at the side of Austin’s mouth, but he managed to keep a straight face.
“No ma’am,” he said.
“You should,” Olivia’s mom admonished.
“I’ll consider it,” Austin said, his face still perfectly serious.
Olivia looked at the clock on the wall, trying to make apologetic eye contact with Austin.
The moment they got into Austin’s truck, Olivia apologized.
“I’m really sorry about my mom,” she said.
He laughed his good-natured laugh and started the engine.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I’ve known what to expect from Aunt Lydia for a long, long time. For a while, the word was that you went feral just to escape her questions.”
For a moment, Olivia didn’t really know what to do. People usually avoided the f-word around her, like if they said it she’d immediatel
y shift and start tearing everything to shreds.
Then she laughed. The idea that she’d gone feral to escape her mom wasn’t true, of course, but all the best jokes had an air of almost-believability.
“Still, she really ran you over the coals.”
“I’ve had much worse,” Austin said. “With Cora having a baby, my mom’s reached some sort of fever pitch too.”
“I figure I’ve still got a good excuse for about six months,” Olivia said, leaning her elbow against the door frame. “Then it starts.”
“Maybe seven,” Austin said.
They drove for half an hour, up through a mountain pass and partway down the other side, before pulling through a huge gate that said Double Moon Ranch, with a crescent moon on either side. Austin parked in a field, and when Olivia walked with him toward the brightly-lit barn, the ground squished a little under her feet.
She hoped she’d dressed properly for a square dance. She’d never been to one before, mostly because wolves and bears just didn’t mix that much, even as humans.
They mixed even less in their shifted form. That was why Olivia had gotten into trouble, though it had been with an entirely different wolf pack. Austin swore that Barb and Bill were much, much more reasonable.
Olivia could feel her mom’s pot roast and biscuits churning in her stomach as she walked toward the barn. This was the first time she’d be in a big social setting, and the closer it got, the more it seemed like a bad idea.
Am I really ready for this? She thought. Yesterday, at that coffee shop it hadn’t seemed like a big deal at all. She’d go, learn some square dancing, and then whirl around with people in a big group.
Then the smell hit her, and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Wolves.
Olivia’s vision started narrowing, the blackness tunneling in from the outside of her vision. She could see the veins in her eyes, and she started sweating again. Her legs wouldn’t work, but she was vaguely aware of Austin, standing next to her, gently taking her by the shoulder and saying her name over and over again.
She felt like she couldn’t breathe, but then she was hyperventilating, breathing much too fast. White sparkles in front of her eyes, her hands shaking.
Her bear roared, and she could feel the very beginning of a shift coming on, her skin breaking into fur, her fingers into claws.
Then Austin was guiding her off to the side, his big, gentle hands on her shoulders. Sitting her down on a bale of hay.
“Put your head between your knees,” he said, softly. “Close your eyes and breathe deep.”
Olivia tried.
Her therapist had told her, once, to think of an hourglass when she felt panicked like this, to think of the sand slowly sifting through to the bottom. Making a perfect pyramid, everything taking its own sweet time, no sounds but the very, very soft sound of sand on sand.
Austin’s hand rubbed her back. Olivia thought of sand, of a pile at the bottom of a glass getting bigger, and that was all she thought of.
She took a deep breath and could feel the cold air hit the bottom of her lungs. It felt good. She took another and another. Now she was imagining that she exhaled sand and it fell to the ground between her feet, forming that perfect pile.
At last, she opened her eyes to see the grass between her feet strewn with straw, her vision no longer narrowed and sparkly.
“You’re all right,” Austin said. He wasn’t asking a question, he was telling her.
Olivia put her elbows on her knees, still looking down at the grass, and nodded.
“I’m all right,” she repeated.
“I’ll take you back home,” he said.
Instead of answering, Olivia looked up and into the barn. There was a temporary wooden floor, and people in flannel shirts and cowboy boots were holding hands, spinning around and laughing, then switching partners and doing it again.
In front was a man wearing both a denim shirt and jeans. A huge belt buckle divided the two denim regions of his body as he chanted dance steps to the dancers. Behind him were a fiddler and a banjo player.
It looked like fun.
“No,” Olivia said.
She took another deep breath, clenching her jaw against the wolf scent that made her head spin, but inhaling anyway.
“I want to go. I’m okay.”
These are different wolves, she reminded herself. How angry would I be if someone generalized about bears?
“I don’t mind taking you home,” Austin said. “I swear.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Olivia said. “If I’m having a bad time in fifteen minutes, we’ll go.”
Austin smiled.
“Okay,” he said.
Olivia walked into the barn, her palms still sweaty. The inside was much warmer than the outside, a welcome respite from the cool air outside, and she took a moment, looking around.
The two of them made their way over to a seating area of some sort, though it was really nothing more than hay bales scattered to give the appearance of seating.
I guess this is country living, Olivia thought, sitting on one. The spikes of hay stuck through her jeans a little, making the backs of her thighs itch. Hay bales for seating. All right.
“You mind if I grab a beer from the refreshments?” Austin asked, jerking one thumb over his shoulders. His mouth twitched up into a smile. “You done freaking out?”
Olivia laughed and blushed, just a little, mostly glad to have someone who didn’t dance around the truth that she was weird and damaged.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
She leaned back against the wall of the barn and watched the dancers. There was a hypnotic quality, she thought, about a huge group of people all dancing together, all turning the same way and doing the same steps. It was really something lovely to watch, and the music and the sound of feet on the floor soothed her.
The barn was fairly full, and though most people were dancing, there were a few hanging around the outside of the dance floor, drinking beer and laughing and talking.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two more men enter the barn, and instantly, she recognized them, even from a hundred feet away.
The one on the left was Jasper, and the other one was the man he’d been with at the coffee shop. Worse, they were in front of the only door. If she were going to run, she’d have to run right past them.
They’re looking at me, she realized. Once more, her blood was banging through her ears, her fight-or-flight instinct in full swing.
Then Olivia took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined an hourglass.
They’re just two attractive men, she told herself.
Understatement of the year, but still true.
She opened her eyes. They were walking casually around the perimeter of the barn, slowly coming toward her.
If they say something, you can just have a conversation with them, she thought. Try not to think about them naked and just do it.
Olivia sat perfectly still and the two men, Jasper and his mate, moved toward her.
Do I act like I recognize them? She wondered. Is that weird?
If I act like I recognize them, will they know that I think about them naked?
They came closer, both watching the dance going on.
Olivia stared rigidly straight ahead. She pretended not to notice them until they stood almost directly in front of her. She was still nervous, sure — okay, terrified, maybe —but she felt like she had no idea what to do, no road map for this sort of thing.
Then they were there.
“It’s Olivia, right?” Jasper said.
Olivia looked up and forced a smile onto her face, feeling the adrenaline spike through her veins.
“Right,” she said.
Was that so bad?
“I’m Jasper,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t bring your book.”
Olivia felt a little bit of warmth rise to her face and forced herself to keep smiling.
He still has your book because you
literally ran away from him the last time you spoke to each other, you know.
The other man — a huge, tall bear shifter wearing blue flannel, with blue eyes and a reddish beard — was blocking her only real exit. Olivia was pretty sure that if she ran again, they wouldn’t chase her, but she really, really wanted not to make a spectacle in front of all these people.
The last thing she needed was more people talking about how she ought to be locked up somewhere.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I’ve read it a thousand times anyway.”
“This is my mate, Craig,” he said, introducing the other man.
“Hi,” she said.
Craig extended his hand and for half a second, Olivia stared at it, her mind going totally blank.
Shake it, she reminded herself.
“Yes!” she said out loud, putting her own hand in his, pleased that she’d remembered what to do.
Craig looked puzzled.
You said that out loud, she thought.
“I’m Olivia,” she said, feeling her face get even hotter. She let her hand stay in his for a few more moments. Even though she was nervous and knew that she was embarrassing herself right and left, just his touch made her skin feel tingly, like a bolt of lightning shooting up her arm.
“These seats taken?” Craig asked, smiling down at her.
“Not really,” she said, looking around at the hay bales around her. “I mean, the guy I’m with went to go get a drink and he’s coming back, but there’s like five more hay bales so you should be okay,” she said.
They sat without commentary.
You’re talking too much, you weirdo, she thought. Olivia put her hands in her lap, squeezed them together, and told herself to calm down.
She sneaked a glance over at Craig. Even below the flannel shirt she could see the contours of his muscled arms. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his forearms rippled effortlessly every time he moved his hands.
Olivia’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed.
I’ve had a really, really long dry spell, she thought.
“So, do you guys dance?” she asked, crossing one leg over the other.
