by Chant, Zoe
“I’m not a strange man,” Damien tried to protest.
“It’s just Trevor’s grandpa!” Clara said helpfully.
“Stranger danger!” another child cried. “Stranger danger!”
Tawny could not stop herself from laughing at Damien’s helpless confusion as the children in the room erupted into chaos, some of them joining the stranger danger chant, some of them simply using the noise and pandemonium as an excuse to run around the room in excitement.
Harried parents tried futilely to contain them.
“I’m so sorry,” Damien said plaintively to Tawny as the children were slowly rounded up and gradually herded out; the party was clearly winding down. He cast his gaze down at her ruined shirt.
Still laughing, Tawny reached for a napkin, and daubed at the mess uselessly. “At least this was the last day I needed to wear my uniform,” she said forgivingly.
Her paper crown started to unseat at her activity, and Damien caught it and settled it more firmly on her curls, the touch strangely intimate. Tawny had to concentrate very hard on trying to get the meatball sauce from her blouse and remind herself that he was only being kind because he’d caused the accident.
“Oh, Tawny, let me get you a clean shirt,” Andrea offered.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Damien said promptly.
Andrea and Tawny both looked at him. Tawny had to remind herself not to drown in those silver eyes again. His perfectly groomed beard made his mouth challenging to read, but it gave Tawny something to concentrate on that didn’t make her knees weak; she wasn’t fond of facial hair. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I insist,” Damien said firmly.
That put Tawny’s back up immediately. “It’s not necessary,” she said tartly. “It’s just a shirt that I never planned to wear again. You’ve saved me the trouble of trying to keep it for sentimental reasons.”
“Then I’ll take you to dinner,” he growled. It wasn’t a request.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tawny retorted.
There was a moment of silence, and Andrea looked back and forth between them suspiciously.
“I’ll take you up on that shirt, Andrea,” Tawny finally said, when she could drag her eyes away from Damien’s fascinating face.
“I will drive you home,” Damien said, as if he was making a great concession.
“Thank you for the offer,” Tawny said, shaking her head and unseating her paper crown again. She took it off and set it on the table. “But I need to return the mail truck, and I am perfectly capable of walking home. Andrea?”
With great effort, she turned on her heel and left the room, keenly aware of her trembling hands.
Chapter 4
Damien was not used to being turned down, or to having people turn their backs to him. As lovely as Tawny’s backside undeniably was, he didn’t appreciate the novelty of it.
Andrea shot him one suspicious look and followed Tawny, presumably to find her a clean shirt.
Damien picked up the paper crown that Tawny had abandoned and turned it in his hands. One of the children had decorated it with enthusiastic crayon and Tawny’s name (he guessed), spelled T-A-N-E-E.
The guests were gone by now; even Stanley had been dragged out by a woman in salt and pepper braids, muttering about conspiracies and price fixing.
“Well, Dad,” Shaun said, once he’d finished picking up the fallen food and spot-treated the rug. “That was certainly interesting.”
“Tell me more about her,” Damien said.
Shaun stared at him. “About Tawny?”
Damien scowled at him. “Yes, about Tawny. Where does she live? Does she have family here? What is her perfume? What kind of car does she drive?”
“She doesn’t have a car,” Shaun said automatically. “What’s going on, Dad?”
“She wouldn’t agree to dinner,” Damien said with a frown. “What other evening entertainment do you have here? Theater? Symphonies? Dancing?”
“Evening entertainment? This is Green Valley, Dad. You have to drive 75 miles to find anything resembling culture. The closest thing we have to dancing is the country bar at the end of town. There isn’t even a movie theater here.”
This was proving more complicated than Damien had hoped.
“What’s going on?” Shaun demanded suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
“She’s my mate.” Damien saw no reason to hide the fact or act coy about it. She would be his soon enough.
Andrea, just coming down the stairs then, gave a cackle of glee as Shaun stared at Damien in shock. “I guessed as much!” she said in delight. “Oh, poor Tawny. She doesn’t even know what hit her.”
“Poor Tawny?” Damien repeated. He realized then that the sound he was hearing was the mail truck pulling away from the curb. His mate was leaving and he ground his teeth in frustration.
Ignoring him, Shaun was shaking his head. “This is going to be the most awkward courtship in the history of shifters.”
“I want to witness every moment of it,” Andrea said with wicked delight. “Let’s have her over to dinner.”
Scowling, Damien reminded her, “She refused dinner.”
“It will be different if I invite her,” Andrea assured him. “I’m not terrifying like you are.”
“I’m not terrifying!” Damien protested, only aware that he was glaring at her in a manner that might have been intimidating after the words left his mouth.
“You made a little girl cry just ten minutes ago,” Shaun reminded him.
“Does she know about shifters?” Damien asked, trying to regain some control of the conversation. “And mates?”
Shaun and Andrea exchanged looks. “I don’t think so,” Andrea said. “I mean, in Green Valley you never know, but she’s never said anything to me that made me think she knew.”
“I would have guessed not,” Shaun added. “But I haven’t known her long.”
Damien frowned thoughtfully. “I will allow you to arrange a dinner,” he agreed.
Andrea gave him an amused smirk. “How gracious of you,” she teased him. “Shaun, will you make a casserole? Something classy. How about a tater tot hotdish?”
Damien tried not to wince at the idea of it.
Trevor came careening into the room just then, his new toy still clutched in one hand. “I’m huuuuungry.”
“You just ate two plates of potluck,” Andrea reminded him. “Where do you put it, child?”
Trevor poked over the plates of food left on the table. “I’m a hungry, hungry lion,” he said, snagging a cookie and the last piece of fudge.
The adults in the room all stilled, looking at him suspiciously.
The year before, Trevor had shifted twice into a young lion in moments of stress, but he seemed to have no memory of the events, and hadn’t repeated the act once Shaun and Andrea had married and his life developed stability. They all hoped he would wait a little longer to manifest his shifter abilities in earnest; he was only six, and six was complicated enough without adding claws and teeth.
Trevor, stuffing his mouth full, turned at their scrutiny. “What?” he asked around his chocolate.
“Don’t fill up before dinner,” Shaun said gruffly, turning away to start clearing the leftovers left on the table.
Andrea slipped Trevor another cookie behind his back with a wink.
“I’ll arrange something with Tawny,” she promised Damien. “I’m so delighted for you.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his bearded cheek and added quietly. “And you had better be nice to her, or half of Green Valley will come after you with pitchforks.”
Damien scowled at her, dismayed by the idea that she thought he would be anything less than absolutely a perfect gentleman. “I assure you, I will court her in the manner she deserves.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Andrea said with a sigh.
Chapter 5
It was Tawny’s first day of retirement. She hadn’t remembered to turn off the alarm, but she w
as awake long before it rang, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Shaun’s father.
Damien.
With his silvery eyes and those broad shoulders, and that deep, gruff voice that made her knees feel like jelly.
It had been a long, long time since she’d last been so affected by a handsome face and a flattering offer.
She should have let him take her to dinner, or at least drive her home.
Not for the first time, she cursed herself for being so damned independent. If she were just a little a more accommodating, if she could just be a little less stubborn, she probably wouldn’t be a spinster, living alone in the tiny house she’d grown up in, wondering when life had passed her by.
There was a thump at the foot of the bed, and a familiar weight stomped up to stare at her from across her pillow.
“Good morning, Prints,” Tawny said, and she reached out and pulled the black cat swiftly in for a quick cuddle. Prints was as fiercely independent as Tawny, and she tolerated only a moment of Tawny’s embrace before she squirmed free with a yowl of protest.
Lady Gray, on the other side of Tawny, was grooming herself noisily, but she stopped when Tawny sat up, and both cats watched her avidly.
“I suppose you to think that the breakfast schedule shouldn’t change, just because the day job is done.”
Unblinking cat eyes were her only answer.
Then Tawny started to throw off the blankets, and the cats erupted into swirling chaos of pleading meows, leaping to the floor and showing her how to get out of the bedroom as if she might have forgotten overnight.
Tawny fed them and began her morning routine, nearly putting on a uniform out of habit. Instead, she chose a soft t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. She fingered the stained shirt that she hadn’t quite been able to throw away at Andrea’s house, remembering all over again the smoldering look in Damien’s eyes, moments before he had thrown a meal at her shirt.
Surely she’d imagined it, that look of avid interest, of hunger.
That wasn’t how people looked at her.
Especially not gorgeous men wearing clothes that would have paid her bills for three months.
The sated cats chose spots on the back of the couch to groom and digest in the sunlight starting to stream in, and for a moment Tawny was tempted to join them with one of the many books in her leaning pile of books to read.
At the last moment, her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t really had dinner last night, too flustered from her unsettling meeting with Shaun’s father.
“I’m going to treat myself to breakfast out,” she told the cats.
They ignored her. Tawny sighed and slipped on her shoes.
Gran’s Grits was the best diner in town, in no small part due to the lack of competition.
It was a small white building, with a little porch up to a well-lit room with a handful of booths and an attempt at 50s decor that would have been more appealing if it had not actually been from the 50s. Gran, a tiny old lady with piercing eyes, had run the diner as long as anyone could remember, and was generally agreed to be the grumpiest person in town. She had gradually passed the day-to-day business of the diner to Old George, who wasn’t particularly old, but carried on her tradition of grouchiness and never said a word he didn’t have to. Gran’s elderly, tiger-striped cat lived at the diner and slept in the front window most days.
Tawny slipped into one of the creaking booths and looked up in surprise to find Andrea handing her one of the plastic laminated menus.
“Andrea,” she squeaked. “I didn’t realize you were working here still.”
Had she made a complete ham of herself the afternoon before? She remembered being mesmerized by Damien’s silver gaze, but didn’t remember much of what she’d said herself, besides proudly refusing his offers-that-didn’t-sound-like-offers. She suspected there had been long moments of staring with inappropriate lustfulness. Had her weak-kneed attraction been as apparent to everyone else as it had been to her?
“Gran needed an extra hand,” Andrea said offhandedly. “Writing is a flexible job, so I was able to come help out for a bit.”
Tawny had a brief moment of relief, then Andrea grinned and slipped into the booth across from her.
“So how do you like Shaun’s dad?”
“He’s fine,” Tawny said, trying to sound casual.
“Isn’t he, though?” Andrea agreed.
“That’s not what I meant,” Tawny protested.
“He likes you,” Andrea said teasingly.
“Oh, he doesn’t,” Tawny said desperately. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s true,” Andrea insisted. “He was very disappointed that you wouldn’t let him buy you a shirt, or dinner, or even drive you home.”
“He didn’t need to do any of those things,” Tawny said firmly.
“He’s going to insist on doing something,” Andrea said warningly.
“It was just an accident,” Tawny insisted. “He doesn’t need to do anything.”
Andrea gave a knowing smirk. “It’s not just about ruining your shirt,” she assured Tawny. “He insists on things. And he likes you!”
“I’d like a cup of coffee,” Tawny said desperately. “And I was thinking about an omelet.”
“The sausage omelet is really good,” Andrea said, her voice so suggestive that Tawny blushed scarlet. “Cream for your coffee?”
“Yes,” Tawny squeaked.
Andrea flashed her one last grin and finally slid out of the booth.
Tawny put her head in her hands. It was entirely unfair for Andrea to be making her blush. She’d changed the girl’s diapers when she was a baby.
“Shaun and I want you to come over for dinner this week,” Andrea said, when she brought the coffee and took Tawny’s order for a vegetarian omelet. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
Tawny looked suspiciously at Andrea. “You and Shaun?” she confirmed.
“Well, of course Trevor lives there too,” Andrea said, looking completely innocent. “And Shaun’s dad may still be in town.”
The idea of seeing him again, of attempting to eat food in front of him and not just wear it... Tawny felt her breath catch and she tried to make herself calm down. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope,” Andrea said cheerfully.
Tawny tried to be pragmatic about it. She should just go to dinner, to dispel the ridiculous image she’d built up in her mind. Damien Powell could not possibly be as handsome and broad-shouldered as she remembered him, and there was no chance he was really interested in her. At worst it would be a short, awkward meal and he would feel like any debt was paid and Tawny could go back to the quiet retirement she’d planned out.
“Fine,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too ungrateful.
“Yes, he is,” Andrea agreed again, and she was flitting away to refill someone’s water before Tawny could correct her interpretation.
Chapter 6
Damien caught himself lurking at the door and made himself prowl back to the kitchen. “What time did she say she was coming?” he demanded.
“She didn’t say,” Andrea said, waltzing in to steal the end of a carrot from the counter.
“It’s Green Valley, Dad,” Shaun said. “People show up for dinner about this time. It’s not an exact science.”
Crunching her carrot end, Andrea grinned at him. “Nervous?”
Damien didn’t bother to answer, but he heard Shaun answer for him as he growled and stalked back out of the kitchen. “Damien Powell doesn’t get nervous, he gets even.”
It sounded like something Damien had said once.
“Poor Tawny!” Andrea laughed.
Their teasing was suddenly irrelevant, as there was a firm tap at the front door then.
Damien did not quite run to it.
“Tawny,” he said gravely, as he opened the door and saw her at last.
She was more than he’d remembered. More energy, more grace, more dancing brown eyes.
“May I come in?” she asked, after a moment, and Damien realized he was standing in the doorway gazing at her. Her cheeks were flushed.
“Of course,” he said, stepping aside. “May I take your...” she wasn’t wearing a coat. “Uh... pie?”
“Oh,” said Tawny, looking down at it as if she’d forgotten about it. “It’s still hot. I should...”
Damien was already trying to take it from her, and hissed as he jerked his fingers off the hot glass.
“Oh!” Tawny said in alarm, nearly dropping the pie. “Are you alright? Did you burn yourself?”
Chagrined, Damien blew on his fingertips. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly.
“Let me put this down,” Tawny said, coming into the room and looking around for a safe place to put it.
“You brought piiiiie!” Trevor hollered, skidding onto the scene.
“Don’t touch it,” Damien warned him, more loudly than he intended.
Trevor and Tawny both froze.
“It’s hot,” Damien tried to explain.
“Well, obviously,” Trevor said. Obviously was his new favorite word this week. “What kind is it?”
Tawny finally found a safe place to put it down, slipping her hands neatly out of the hot mitts she’d been holding it with. “It’s apple.” She looked shyly at Damien, not quite meeting his eyes. “I hope you like it.”
Trevor was dramatically sniffing. “It smells amaaaaaazing,” he said, nearly toppling the little table it was on. Damien reminded himself not to yell at the boy.
“I will love it,” Damien assured Tawny.
Tawny wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, and her cheeks, if anything, were more red than when she’d come in. “Are your fingers okay?”
Damien obediently turned his hand palm up for inspection. “They’re fine,” he said reassuringly. “I heal fast.”
Tawny looked like she might touch him, but Andrea came out of the kitchen then and Tawny took a self-conscious step away instead.
“Trevor, come set the table for us, please!” Andrea called.
