Shifter Romance Box Set

by Unknown

  "I agreed to nothing," Dee said, but Julia could see her shoulders slumping.

  "It's alright," Julia said. "I'll show them around and get them out of here before anyone wakes up. Okay?"

  In response, Dee simply opened the door and went inside.

  "Granny Dee—"

  "I'll be waiting in my bathroom until they're done," Dee said, waving one hand in the air dismissively. "Don't let them come in, unless the bank says they're allowed to see my wrinkled rear end."

  Julia sighed and turned back to the men.

  "Charming place," the dark-haired man said with a smirk.

  "Follow me," Julia said. She led them through the kitchen and living room, pointing out the fireplace and guest apartments.

  "Is this wall insulated?" the young man asked, rapping his knuckles on the wall of one of the guest rooms. Julia cringed.

  "No," she whispered, hoping that they would get the hint. "None of the walls are. This house was built in 1923, and it's never been updated except for the electrical stuff. Air conditioning costs are horribly expensive. You'd probably have to install central air. And the toilets run to a septic tank." She waved them through to the back porch. At least there they could speak loudly without waking up the guests.

  "How about the beams here?" the blonde man asked, pointing to the porch supports.

  "Yes, any reinforcements?" the older man asked.

  "No, it's all wood and brick," Julia said. "Insurance is more expensive, too, because the foundation is unapproved slab. Is there anything else I can show you?" She wanted them gone. She hoped that her answers had been enough to drive them away. The longer it took the bank to find a buyer, the longer they could stay.

  "That's all we need, really," the older man said. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," Julia said curtly.

  They both followed Julia down the stairs and back out to the front yard, where she didn't bother to offer any goodbyes, simply opening the gate for them.

  "It's really perfect," the young man said.

  "Perfect?" Julia asked, spinning back around. That was the last word she'd use to describe the house.

  "Sure," the blond man said. "It would be easy to tear down, no asbestos in the walls or anything. And the septic would be good to run to multiple cabins when we build them out." He nodded towards the older man. "What do you think, Jordan?"

  "Looks good," the man said, glancing at Julia. Her face was burning hot, and she was pretty sure her normally fair skin was as red as a summer tomato. "We'll need to check out the other places first, though."

  "But it's on such good land—"

  "Just so you know," Julia said, her hands in fists at her side. "This is my grandmother's house, and we don't want to leave. We'll fight the eviction. Squat if we have to. It won't be an easy sale." Her voice trembled as she spoke.

  "You're messing with the wrong people," the younger man snarled. "What kind of threat are you making?"

  "Easy, Kyle," the older man said, putting a hand on his shoulder. The young man relaxed his posture. The old man adjusted his glasses, looking up at the house.

  "It's a beautiful place," he said. "I understand why you'd hate to lose it. But if you're in dire straits..." He held out his hands in a gesture of supplication. "It might be better for you to take a good deal than to fight with every possible buyer. Just so you know."

  Julia's breath hissed between her teeth, but she did not say another word until they had left the front yard and driven away.

  'They're gone?" Granny's Dee voice called from across the living room.

  "They're gone," Julia said, looking back out to where their black luxury sedan was speeding over the hill away from the house. "Here, let me help you with breakfast."

  The morning passed quickly, and soon Julia was back to work and avoiding her boss. It was late in the day when she finally finished shelving all of the new books. Her break was way overdue, and she stretched her arms as she walked back to the break room, eager to sit down and rest her feet for a moment. Just as she rounded the corner, she felt something very strange come over her, a sense that somebody was watching her.

  "Julia?"

  Julia spun around, startled by the voice. It was the man from the day before. Damien. He held his cane in both hands in front of him loosely, leaning slightly onto it. His dark glasses made him look casual, even though she knew that wasn't the reason he wore them.

  "Oh my god, you startled me!" she said, her breath catching in her throat.

  "Sorry," Damien said, his smile betraying his amusement. "It must be terrifying for a blind man to sneak up on you like that."

  Julia laughed.

  "I was off in my own world, I guess," she said. Then a thought struck her.

  "How did you know it was me?" she asked.

  "Your shoes," he said, after just a second's hesitation. "The way they click on the floor."

  "Are you serious?" Julia asked, arching one eyebrow in suspicion. "What are you, Sherlock Holmes?" She couldn't help but feel attracted to him, but there was something that didn't add up. The weird hesitation, the way he'd called her name like he knew she was right there—

  "I'm just used to telling people apart by their footsteps," Damien said. "How's your day going?"

  "Long. Busy. Just like normal." Julia said, feeling awkward just standing there, though Damien seemed entirely at ease.

  "Are you heading out right now?"

  "I'm just on my break," she said.

  "How long do they give you?"

  "Fifteen minutes," Julia said.

  "Wonderful," he said. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee. There's a cafe just down the street, if I'm not mistaken."

  "I—uh—" Julia stammered, not sure how to take his offer.

  "Unless you don't want to have coffee with a strange man," Damien said, shrugging in a joking way. "I know I can seem kind of intimidating."

  Julia thought that he was intimidating—at least the idea of having coffee with him. He made her crave something she'd never craved before, and she was scared to death of messing it up. He waited for her answer calmly, and she gulped down her objections. Except for one.

  "It's not that," she said.

  "Then what?"

  "The girl you were with yesterday," Julia said. She coughed. God, she felt stupid. But she had been hit on by too many attractive men who turned out to be married and just looking for a fling. "Is she..."

  "Oh, no," Damien said, looking surprised at her question. "She's my guide."

  "Okay," Julia said. "I just didn't want to step on any toes."

  "Stepping on toes is usually my problem," Damien said, holding out his hand. Julia reached out and clasped her palm to his.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Damien

  The shock that jolted up Damien's arm when he touched Julia again almost made him drop her hand. He swallowed hard, his heartbeat doubling in pace as he tried to relax his arm enough to walk casually. She had no idea the kind of effect she was having on him, or else she did a fantastic job of masking it. Her palm was soft and warm and it took all of his self-control not to lift the hand to his lips and kiss it. Lord, to kiss her! It might destroy him.

  The aura he felt emanating from her was stronger today, if that were possible, and the idea that she was human disappeared with the awareness of her mind. Every emotion she felt seemed to sweep through his body, echoing through him and making it hard for him to think. She had to be his mate. It was impossible for her to cause this kind of connection without being his mate. And if that was true, she was a werewolf. Had to be.

  When he sensed her presence walking by him, he had called out her name without thinking. Fortunately, most people seemed to believe that blind people had extrasensory abilities anyway, and she believed his excuse without too much thought.

  He tried to regain his thoughts as they walked out the door into the summer sunlight, but he was absolutely dumbstruck by the idea that he had found his mate, and that he was right now walking down the street w
ith her, holding her hand.

  His cane extended out in front of him only slightly, making sure that the ground was level.

  "How are the books working out for you?" she asked.

  "Great," Damien said, thankful for the question. "I've already read through most of what I need."

  "You find any monsters around here?"

  "Not yet." Damien cocked his head. He wished he could read her expressions to tell if she were really joking. Julia laughed.

  "Well, you just let me know if you find any. I'll be running the other way," she said. Damien cracked a grin.

  "You would leave a poor blind man to fend off the monsters by himself?" he asked.

  "I think you could take care of yourself," Julia said. "You'd just use your superhearing to beat them. Just like that one guy... who's that superhero who's blind?"

  "Daredevil," Damien said.

  "Right, like him."

  Damien sensed Julia's pause at the cafe entrance. He stepped ahead and opened the door to the cafe, holding it for Julia. She walked through, dropping his hand, and instantly he felt the connection between them break off into just a vague awareness of her emotional presence. He stood in line with her so close to him that he could smell her. He breathed in deeply.

  "I love the smell of coffee," Julia said, relaxed and happy. Damien smiled and stepped forward to order. They sat outside, a large umbrella shading them from the hot sun.

  "What are your favorite smells?" Julia asked.

  "Interesting question," Damien said. "I suppose I like the smell of pine trees. Not the pine needles themselves, but the resin that seeps out of the bark. It's a slightly bitter smell, but sweet too." He took a sip of his coffee. "What about you?"

  "Coffee, definitely," Julia said.

  "What about violets?" Damien asked.

  "How did you know that?!" Julia cried out. Damien sensed her apprehension.

  "I have all of the super senses," Damien said. "Your perfume yesterday."

  "Oh!" Julia said. "Oh, right. I forgot I wore that yesterday."

  "It was violets, right?"

  "Yes," she said. "That was my mother's favorite perfume."

  Damien sensed a darkness that rose up quickly from the depths of Julia's heart. The sorrow pierced him, and he felt his useless eyes welling up with tears despite himself. He blinked and reached forward to take Julia's hand, knocking over the coffee instead. He could hear the splatter of the liquid on the sidewalk and Julia scrambling to right the cup.

  "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Damien pulled his hand back, shocked that he had bumped into the cup. Julia's emotions must have clouded his senses. He hadn't knocked over anything in months, years maybe.

  "It's no problem," Julia said. "I'll clean it up."

  "Please, let me," Damien said, pulling a wad of napkins from the dispenser and trying as hard as he could to block out her emotions, which were putting his senses into complete disarray.

  "Did I get any on you?" Damien asked.

  "No, no, I'm fine," Julia said, but the scrape of napkins against fabric told him that she was lying to him.

  "I'm sorry," Damien said again. He was unused to apologizing for being clumsy, and his hands seemed awkward no matter what he did with them. "Can I get you another one?"

  "It's okay, I have to get back soon anyway," Julia said. Damien didn't know if the disappointment radiating from her was because of his clumsy or because she had to leave. He hoped that it was the latter. "Just let me have a sip of yours?"

  "Sure," Damien said. "I'll let you pick up the cup on your own. It's less dangerous that way."

  Julia chuckled and sipped his coffee. "So tell me about yourself."

  "Me? There's not much interesting to tell."

  "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you around town before."

  "Well, I'm actually thinking about moving here."

  "Oh? What do you do for a living? Teach?"

  "I'm a writer," Damien said automatically. It was his go-to response whenever anyone asked him what his job was. Writing was an easy career to fake, and a difficult one to prove wrong. He had actually penned a couple of books a few years ago, when he was paranoid about being found out. But now Julia lit up, and Damien realized that he might have chosen the wrong occupation to lie about.

  "That's so exciting! What do you write?" Julia said. "Half the reason I applied to work at the library was because I love reading books. That was before I knew that they actually frown upon reading during work." She giggled.

  "You mean you don't just lie down in the back and read all day? There should definitely be a position for that job," Damien said. "I mean, somebody has to read all those books!"

  "I know, right?" Julia laughed. "So what kind of books do you write?" she asked, turning the subject back to him.

  "I can't tell you. You'll laugh," Damien said.

  "Let me guess, then," Julia said. "You write erotic romance novels. Bodice rippers with pictures of skinny girls with flowing hair clinging onto half-naked men on the covers. And they're all pirate themed."

  "Close," Damien said. "But no, no romance novels."

  "Fantasy?" Julia guessed. "Dragons and wizards and that kind of stuff?"

  "Nope."

  "Tell me," she said. Damien could hear her heart beating a bit faster.

  "Well, if you must know," he said. "I write about folklore."

  "Is that why you wanted the book about legends around here?" Julia asked.

  "Yes," Damien said, feeling just a bit bad about lying to her. He was desperate to find out if she was secretly a werewolf, but at the same time he hesitated to ask in any manner that seemed too blatant.

  "That's interesting," Julia said. "You must know some weird stories."

  "Some of them are pretty fantastical, I have to say. Do you have any weird stories to share?" Damien asked, listening intently.

  "Nope," Julia said, taking another sip of his coffee. He reached out to take it from her and touched her fingers with his as he did. The connection between them flashed into sharp relief for that brief second, and Damien threw himself intensely into the awareness. He couldn't sense any kind of deception from her, though; she had nothing to conceal.

  "I'll have to tell you some of mine, then," Damien said, hoping to draw her a bit further out.

  "It'll have to be some other time," Julia said. "I need to get back to work. I'm going to be late as it is."

  "That's a shame," Damien said, standing up. "Thanks for letting me spill coffee all over you."

  "Thank you for spilling coffee all over me," Julia said, laughing. "I had a great time."

  "Maybe we can do it some other time?" Damien asked. "We can try something new. Maybe you can spill tea on me."

  "That sounds wonderful," Julia said. "I have tomorrow off, the library is closed. Just in case, you know, you don't have anything going on." She gave him her phone number, and he entered it into his phone by touch.

  "This is it, right?" he said, showing her the screen to make sure he'd typed it in right.

  "You got it! I, um, really... I have to go," she said.

  "Of course," Damien said. She stood up and so did he. He held out his hand and she pressed his palm in a handshake. Without letting himself hesitate, and buoyed by her warm response to his jokes, Damien raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss onto her fingers.

  It was a mistake. The connection between them before that moment had been tenuous, if intense. He could feel the separation between her emotion and his, and could untangle them if he needed to. Now, though, with his lips against her skin, he sensed the passage between them open up, widen, and take over his mind. He could no longer tell the difference between a feeling coming from his own mind or hers, and her thoughts reverberated through him. Not just emotions, this time, as he had sensed before. The emotions were there, to be sure: desire, curiosity, and a hint of fear. But his lips fell apart slightly and he breathed in a sharp breath as he now heard clearly the words that she was thinking:

  ...the o
ne. He's the one. It's him...

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Julia

  Damien's lips were hot against Julia's skin even in the summer air, and for a moment she thought she would swoon. He pulled back quickly, though, dropping her hand from the kiss after just a brief moment of contact. His glasses fell down on his nose and she caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were hazed over, but that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that his eyes shone golden, like there was a light coming through from behind the irises. He pushed the glasses back up on his nose and the light was hidden.

  "Thanks again," Julia said. "See you later." She turned and walked away quickly so that she would not be tempted to turn back. She wanted to stay and talk to him for hours. A writer! And he seemed interested in her! She felt like a heroine from a Jane Austen novel.

  At the library, Julia hummed through the rest of her work. The hours passed quickly as she daydreamed about Damien. He had held her hand so possessively, as though she belonged to him already, and he belonged to her. And then he had kissed her hand—how romantic! Her thoughts spiraled into intricate fantasies about what other places he might kiss on her body. When her boss yelled at her for not finishing processing all of the discard books, she just blushed and went right to it. Although she had hoped that he might come back to the library to see her again, by the time she closed up and left she was still in a good mood from their brief coffee date.

  Back home, Granny Dee was clipping the roses in the front of the house in the dusky light of sunset.

  "Granny Dee!" Julia beamed as she came through the gate. "How was your day?"

  "Not as good as yours, it seems," Dee said, smiling secretively. "Things looking better after this morning?"

  "This morning?" Julia thought for a second before remembering the men who had come to see the house. "Oh, yes, much better! We'll figure something out about the house, I'm sure of it." While the situation with the mortgage was as bleak as ever, the burst of energy that Damien's attention had given Julia made her certain that good things were going to happen soon.