by Cara Adams
“Have I got time for a shower?” she asked.
“Sure. Supper will be another half-hour at least. The snake had to marinate for a while before Nyander could begin cooking it.”
“Thank you. A shower will be great.”
He and Damien left her then and headed to the back of the house. The house was connected to the store by a fully enclosed short passageway. It had originally been a sort of conservatory for his mother’s fruit trees when they were small and needed constant care. They’d long since matured and been planted out in the garden, but Yuchi still watered them conscientiously once a week.
Because of the way the house and the store were joined together, the kitchen was an enormous room looking out over the garden between the two buildings. The house had a wide stoop running around two sides of it. That had been where the boys had played when it rained when they were children, and now it was where they sat and relaxed, drinking coffee and watching the sun rise or set.
The house faced the desert, so the kitchen and the garden were at the back of it, but so was the store, the gas station, the garage, and the road, so the back had become the front, commonly used entry, and the stoop overlooking the desert was now the back.
It didn’t matter. The scenery remained just as restful whether they looked out onto the green grass and flowering shrubs and trees of the garden or the endless horizon of the desert.
He and Damien walked into the kitchen and sat at the long table.
“That chili smells great,” he said to Ny.
* * * *
Damien often ate with the Wishram brothers. All five of them had black hair and black eyes, and all five of them were werewolf shape-shifters. Their personalities varied a lot though, and Hunter was not only the closest in age to him but also the one he felt most emotionally akin to. Since finding a woman out here in the desert was difficult, he’d agreed to partner with Hunter and, if they found woman they both wanted, to mate her under shape-shifter law, where ménages were legal.
That meant not just finding a woman, which would be a difficult thing here in Junctionville, but also finding a woman who didn’t mind shape-shifters.
Well, today their search was looking the most positive it ever had been. Not only was Jasmine the cutest thing he’d seen in a very long time, but she also liked big dogs, which gave him a good feeling that she might also like werewolves.
The rich scent of chili filled the air, and he breathed in deeply. “Damn that smells good, Ny,” he called out. Ny had his back to the room as he stirred several big pots on the cooktop, but he still acknowledged Damien by waving a wooden spoon, never lifting his gaze from his task.
“You were all really lucky that Ny joined you when your parents left to live in town,” he said to the crowd of brothers sitting down at the enormous table. The table was a scarred trestle of solid wood, damaged over countless years of young boys, and then adolescents, sitting at it to eat, play board games, do their homework, and socialize. The kitchen was by far the largest room in the house. The formal dining room, with its polished teak table seating ten people, had never been used to Damien’s knowledge, although maybe Forest, the oldest brother, could correct him about that.
The same was almost true for the formal living room, a stuffy, too-small space crammed with two sofas, two armchairs, and an old upright piano. The piano had been used. Every brother had been obliged to learn to play piano by their mother, who insisted they needed “some culture.” Hawk, the second brother, liked to play and still did, entertaining them all sometimes with his ability to play old holiday songs, classical music, or the latest tunes, depending on his mood at the time.
The others had all stopped learning as soon as they could wiggle out of it.
Forest entered the kitchen just then, sitting at the foot of the table. “I’ve locked the store. If anyone wants me, they’ll ring the bell,” he said. The touch pads by the gas pumps rang a buzzer in the house, alerting them of customers, but there was also an old bell with a rope to ring by the door of the store. It dated back to the days when Hunter’s parents ran both the gas station and store while rearing their children and didn’t necessarily stay where they could see customers arrive.
These days anyone local usually phoned or texted if they wanted something urgent, but there were still occasional passersby who rang the bell when they were in a rush for gas or something important.
Yuchi passed piles of plates, glasses, and forks around then proceeded to add platters of bread, butter, rice, and giant jug of ice water to the center of the table. A dozen longnecks were next, and Damien helped ensure there was crockery and cutlery at each place setting.
He looked up as Jaz appeared in the doorway, Phideaux at her side. She looked pretty, cool, and fresh in another pair of denim shorts and a turquoise T-shirt.
“Why don’t you sit here, at the end of the table, and I’ll get Phideaux some water,” said Hunter, jumping out of his chair.
“Fido?” asked Yuchi.
Damien added to the chorus of those spelling the dog’s name, and then Jaz said, “It was his name in the shelter. I didn’t want to confuse him, but I changed the spelling because he’s special to me.”
That was pretty much what she’d said to him and Hunter. Likely she got tired of having to tell people all the time, but he liked that she took the trouble to explain. She’d wanted the dog to be different, and she didn’t just let that slide and allow people to think whatever they wanted. She explained to everyone that he was special to her.
Phideaux was a damn lucky mutt.
The meal was delicious, and the talk around the table flowed freely. Damien liked that when he visited with the Wishrams. Each one was quite different, and arguments could and did break out. But they all respected each other’s opinions as well. The fights were always about the topic. Never about the person.
He was also extremely pleased to see how well Jaz fit in with the group. At one stage Hunter and Hawk were arguing about philosophy and whether or not Rene Descartes was truly the father of modern philosophy. The large room was abuzz with people’s opinions.
“You’re quiet, Damien. What do you think?” asked Jaz.
“You all lost me when you translated, ‘I think therefore I am’ into the original Latin. ‘Cogito ergo sum.’ He was French. Why didn’t he say it in French? Besides, I liked it better when you were talking about his mathematical and physics discoveries. I understand math better than I do Latin.”
“He should never have written that book on geometry. I blame him totally for my low grades,” said Hunter.
“I’d think they were more likely caused because you were always messing around in class instead of working,” said Forest.
“I remember that. You could never sit still,” added Ny.
“He still can’t,” chorused Yuchi and Stone.
Damien looked at Jaz, who was grinning, her head turning from side to side as she watched and listened to the conversation flow across the table. Damien relaxed. His own house was silent, peaceful, and restful. He tended to sit on his back porch and sip coffee alone, staring out at the ever-changing colors of the desert. It was heaven. But being here in among the noise and vigor of a large, opinionated family was also damn good. And even better was that it didn’t seem to faze Jaz at all. That was extra good news indeed.
After they ate, Damien and Hunter took Jaz and Phideaux out into the garden and let the dog run around for ten minutes. He watched to make sure Phideaux didn’t damage Hunter’s mother’s precious fruit trees, but the giant mutt was happy chasing a ball that Jaz retrieved from her bedroom.
“Tomorrow we’ll take you out to the cemetery,” Hunter said when the dog was lying at Jaz’s feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Shouldn’t you both be at work?” she asked.
“Your gas gauge won’t arrive until the afternoon of the day after tomorrow, and the maintenance we’re doing at the moment is on machinery for a man who won’t need to use it for a couple of mont
hs yet. He likes to get it checked every year and any worn parts repaired or replaced is all. There’s no rush on it,” said Damien. He was so looking forward to spending time with her. Maybe holding her hand, or even kissing her if she let him.
They’d take the old Range Rover because it was more appropriate for driving across the desert, but an added bonus was that the cab had three seats in it, so Jaz would be tucked between him and Hunter. He just hoped Phideaux behaved in the backseat. Still, he was used to traveling in a car, so likely he’d be fine.
“How far is it? What time do you need us to be ready to leave?” asked Jaz, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
Damien worked hard to hide his grin. It would never have occurred to him that taking a woman to a cemetery would make her happy or that he’d consider it a date. But right now the cemetery trip was ticking all the boxes.
“We’ll give you a tour of the desert around here as well,” said Damien, wanting to make the most of the time with Jasmine.
“Is eight too early? The mornings are cooler and much more pleasant than the afternoons,” said Hunter.
“Eight is fine. Thank you so much for letting me and Phideaux stay here.”
Hunter opened the door for Jasmine, and Damien followed them inside, wishing he could follow her all the way to her room and kiss her good night. Put his hands on her cute little butt and hold her lithe, soft body against his dick. His dick that had been half hard from the moment he’d seen her running across the desert screaming at her dog.
“I’d better get going,” he said to Hunter after Jaz’s door closed.
“See you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here before eight.” Hell, likely he’d be here before seven. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
* * * *
The house was very old but sturdy and well maintained. Jaz guessed, with so many males in the family, likely that was a no-brainer. There’d always be someone available to fix whatever broke or to repaint. The room she was staying in was painted in cool pastel blues with a deeper blue comforter on the bed and a thick blue rug between the bed and the dresser. Phideaux settled there perfectly happily, which was good. His own blanket was still in the car, and she didn’t think it would be fair to ask one of the men to unlock the garage so she could fetch it. The desert could get cold at night. She knew that.
Likely it wouldn’t be too cold in the house though. Her sleeping bag was rated for snow, so even camping out she was never cold at night. Besides, with Phideaux in the tent with her, all the space was filled so they kept each other warm.
She settled in the bed, reveling in the deep, soft mattress and cushy pillow. It was certainly much more luxurious than camping. But the cruel truth was, with her current job, paying her rent would likely have been too much for her budget. Phideaux was a big dog and ate a lot, but she would never part with him. He was excellent company, her best friend, and he kept her safe while she wandered through the country looking for cemeteries.
One day she’d have to settle down and try harder to get a real job. But not yet. And not tomorrow. Tomorrow she was being taken to a cemetery by two incredible, handsome men. How awesome was that!
She didn’t know any of these people really, yet they’d all been endlessly helpful and caring. Damien and Hunter had been especially interested in helping her and she had to admit to herself they were very good-looking men. Likely some of the sexiest men she’d ever seen.
She was up, dressed, and had packed her backpack by seven and walked into the kitchen hoping to be able to make herself some coffee and toast or a bowl of cereal.
Instead, Ny handed her a plate with a huge pile of crispy strips of bacon on it, two eggs, and two pieces of toast.
“Wow. Thank you.”
“That bacon is all for you. I’ve got some here for Phideaux, along with a nice bone for him to chew.”
“Thank you. You’re spoiling us.”
“I’m used to cooking for a crowd.”
With five brothers in the family she guessed that was true. “Do many people stop at the gas station for a meal?” she asked as she took her plate over to the table and poured herself some coffee from the pot already sitting there.
“Everyone always wants coffee. My coffee is much better than anyone else’s so even people who live around here often drop in for coffee or buy coffee to go whenever they’re heading into town. A lot of the locals stop for a snack when they’re traveling past, and anyone journeying through usually stops as well for gas and a snack. It can get surprisingly busy.”
Jaz guessed he didn’t mean busy in a city sort of way, but it was good to know they had ample customers. His food was certainly worth stopping for. Phideaux had wolfed down his bacon already and was gnawing his bone. Jaz wasn’t sure she could eat this much food, but it was so delicious she wasn’t planning to stop munching just yet.
She’d finished the mountain of food and was wondering how to broach the topic of payment. Their livelihood appeared to be the gas station and the store. She’d eaten their yummy food, slept in their house, and didn’t want to take advantage of them. She had a tent she could have stayed in out in the desert somewhere. But she didn’t want to seem ungrateful either. They’d all been incredibly welcoming and accepting of her and to offer to pay seemed rather crass and rude.
Jaz was at a loss as to know how to proceed. Besides, what if they asked for a sum she couldn’t afford on top of what the new gas gauge was going to cost her? Damn, she was in a bit of a pickle here. Maybe she should wait until she could bring the topic up more gently while they were on the way to the cemetery.
She thanked Ny for the meal and then took Phideaux outside for a run before they left. She threw his ball for him to fetch, careful not to go too far into the desert. When she saw Damien and Hunter standing out in front of the gas station, she called Phideaux and walked back to them.
They really were very handsome. Every time she saw them she was struck even more about how good-looking they were, yet how kind and considerate they’d been toward her. One thing she’d learned as she’d been traveling around for the past four months was that many people were helpful and nice, but many others were not. Finding an entire clan of lovely people was utterly amazing. And these ones were so damn pretty to look at as well it almost took her breath away.
“Do you want to get anything out of your car?” asked Hunter.
She saw the roller door was still down at the garage. “Everything I need is in my backpack. I’ll just go and get it.”
“We’ll bring the Range Rover out the back of the house for you. Come out there when you’re done,” said Damien.
“Sure. Thanks.”
She hurried back to the room she’d slept in, checking that it was neat, and slung her backpack over her shoulder after putting Phideaux’s ball back in the side pocket. She was already packed and ready to leave, so it only took her a moment. Finding the right door to leave by was more difficult. The house rambled in several directions. Jaz walked down two different hallways, finding an exit door in each. Both times she looked outside but didn’t see a truck waiting before going back to the kitchen to ask Ny where she was supposed to go.
He wasn’t there anymore, but there was yet another exit door, and this time it opened out onto a large patch of gravel with a battered old white truck sitting there.
Damien jumped down from the cab and said, “There are three seats up front, but Phideaux will need to sit in the back. Is that okay?”
Jaz looked in the back, but there was plenty of room there, even for a big dog. The front seats had been pushed well back, and there wouldn’t be much legroom for an adult, but Phideaux would have his legs on the seat, so it was all good. “Sure. In you go, buddy.”
The dog jumped in, and she slung her backpack in after him and then climbed up into the cab.
Damien scrambled in after her, and Hunter took off across the desert, not on any road or track that she could see. “We’re going to show you around the desert a bit on the way
to the cemetery. How much have you seen of this area so far?”
“The day before yesterday I looked all around a town maybe two hundred fifty miles back. The cemetery there was small but well looked after, and the priest at the church there didn’t know of any abandoned cemeteries anywhere nearby. He gave me the name of his colleague in Burton, and that’s where I was going when the car ran out of gas.”
“Have you spent much time in the desert on your search for cemeteries?” asked Damien.
Jaz had to stop and think. “I’ve been doing this gig for over four months now. I started in Ohio, and I’ve more or less headed west and just a little south. Even quite densely populated areas might have abandoned cemeteries in them, but I feel small, out-of-the-way places are more likely to provide me with success. I need to find two a month to survive. All that is kind of a long way around for saying I guess I’ve seen a lot of really pretty scenery, and I truly love the traveling. But I have to actually find some cemeteries to get paid and keep Phideaux in kibble and myself in food and stuff.”
Phideaux barked, and Jaz turned to pat his big head. He was standing right behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck. She supposed he was looking out the windshield, watching where they were going, just as he would be doing if they were in her car.
“How did you choose this job?” asked Hunter.
Jaz still couldn’t discern any track they were following, but she trusted the men to find their way to the cemetery and home again. However, she was glad they were driving. Likely she would have gotten lost attempting this herself.
“I didn’t choose it. I worked for an auto parts distributer, and with the downsizing in the auto industry, they closed. It took a while, but I found a job as an aide in a middle school. They decided to cut back the number of hours per week aides worked, and that meant it was hard to make a living. This job has the advantage of me not needing to pay rent, and it’s often like a vacation with time out-of-doors to play with Phideaux while we look around. I decided we both deserved a vacation, and it’s a lot of fun. But, yeah, I do need to get some results as well.”
