“Foolish. Reckless,” she snapped.
“Well, sure. He’s three. He’s smart but he needs to grow some common-sense. Nothing two parents can’t handle.” His words were reassuring and she felt reassured. They could be a team and raise Jimmy right.
What was wrong with this picture? For a start, she had difficulty imagining anyone, even the head of his clan, ordering Ryan to do anything he did not want to do. That meant that on some level he wanted this marriage. Why?
She already knew that he could perceive her shield. Her shield! When had she dropped it? Ryan was sitting beside her holding her hand in his huge one. Gently, delicately, possessively. He felt it the minute she became aware of his light clasp. He smiled that heart-melting, panty-wetting grin, kissed her knuckles, and released her hand.
Her panties were soaking. How mortifying. He was worse for her self-control than Dominic had been. Dominic! How closely related were Ryan and Jimmy’s father? She swallowed the frog in her throat.
“What are your brothers’ names?” she croaked.
His golden eyes sharpened. He got it at once. “That could be awkward. Adam, Brandon, Peter,” he articulated the names slowly, fearfully.
“Adam is the one who got married four years ago?”
“And bought this lighthouse. He and Paige have six-month-old twin boys.”
“Oh. Their first children?” she asked.
“Their first. I have ten other nieces and nephews. To say nothing of the children of my cousins.”
“Jimmy’s brothers and sisters,” she said sadly.
“Some of them. But it’s probably better he be friends with his siblings thinking they are cousins, than miss out altogether.”
Ryan was right. But he was leaving something out.
“Why are you willing to give up marrying your fated mate to marry me?” She asked what had to be asked.
He inhaled sharply as if she had blindsided him. Just how dumb did he think she was? She might have fallen for Dominic’s line, but she was four years older now. Four years wiser. His full lips compressed. He clutched his right thigh.
“I’m dying,” he said. The hand that had gripped his thigh made a fist. “I want a child before I go.”
She had not expected that. “Are you sure?”
“More or less. A cobra shifter pumped me full of venom. It’s destroying me from the inside out. I could have a decade. Or weeks. No one knows. No one has ever survived longer than ten minutes.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“Sure you do. You need everyone’s pity. Dying at – what? – thirty-five, is awful.”
“Thirty-four,” he muttered through his teeth.
“And you want a child of your own?” Her face heated.
“I do. That part’s non-negotiable.”
Out of nowhere, anger bloomed. “Let me see if I have this right. You are prepared to forgo having your very own mate in order to leave a genetic legacy. So you plan to leave me a widow with a couple of shifter kids?”
He thought. Nodded. “Pretty much. A rich widow. I’m a very rich man. From a very rich clan. They’ll look after you, help you to get the cubs raised right.”
“And if I want to remarry?”
He looked furious. As if he really was her lover. Her mate. How could she endure marriage to such a primitive?
But his voice was under control when he spoke. Clearly Ryan Rutherford had a lot of self-control. “My family will support your decision. Whatever it is. It would be up to the council whether they let you stay on the island as a widow embedded in the Rutherford clan. My guess is that they would.”
“So you’ll just shut your eyes and grit your teeth and screw your assigned wife until she gets pregnant?”
He brought her hand to his mouth. Held her eyes with his gleaming feral ones that were so like Jimmy’s and so like the stone on her hand. He kissed her fingers one at a time. Bit the tips lightly while her insides quivered. Licked her with a broad sweep of his tongue from fingertips to wrist.
“Making love to you would be no hardship, Claudia Rutherford.” He suckled the sensitive area above her wrist bone, and bent lower so he could trail kisses to her elbow. “More like the purest pleasure.”
Fire licked wherever his mouth went. She was breathing hard when his mouth found hers. She felt ravished, but his kiss was gentle. Sweet. Everything a first kiss should be. Delicate. Slow. An exchange of breath. A mutual tasting and exploration. He tasted of man, of testosterone, and something musky she remembered from Dominic.
He raised his mouth from hers. His wide chest rose and fell like he had run far and fast. Like her pulse. “What about you?” His eyes were hot. “Will you be closing your eyes and imagining I’m my own cousin?”
“No.” Her voice was a husky squawk. “No,” she said more clearly. “Whatever I felt for him burned itself out when I found out he was a faithless liar.” She held his eyes with her own and pushed all her power into getting her message across. “The one thing I won’t tolerate is lying.”
He relaxed. Smiled an easy smile. “That’s okay. I may be twenty kinds of a bastard, but I’m no liar.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryan~
The rattle of hail on the windows interrupted them before she could process his words.
“I have to get Jimmy in from the yard.” She hurried to the side door.
Ryan limped after her. His leg slowed him to a crawl. Shift. “Relax. A little wet won’t hurt him. But I’d like to meet him in person.”
She whirled. Hands on heart. The Cat’s Eye flashed. His heart leaped. This delectable female was his queen. Could love be instantaneous? He had better remember she had already given hers away. And to his own fricking cousin.
“I need to prepare him.”
“For what? He’s probably noticed his friends have fathers as well as mothers. And asked why he doesn’t.”
She nodded. “He has.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That his daddy had to go away.” Her lips twisted. “I didn’t want to lie and say his father was dead.”
“Good. So introduce me as his long-lost father.”
“But you’re not.”
“He’s getting pelted while you dither, woman. Listen, sweetheart, a secret is only a secret if it’s kept a secret. You can’t tell anyone that this marriage is not four years old. Not even your parents. Certainly not a three-year-old who won’t understand and will prattle it everywhere.” He reached past her and opened the French door.
“Jimmy,” she called.
The boy was ignoring the cold and catching the ice pellets in his cupped hands. When his mom spoke he came running with his fists full of the small white balls. “It’s raining ice cubes,” he shouted. “See!”
He skidded to a halt and peered up at Ryan. His eyes narrowed in a greeting blink. Ryan blinked back, delighted to see this feline instinct in his son. “It’s Cat,” Jimmy yelled.
Claudia was looking stricken – again.
Ryan squatted awkwardly, sticking his right leg out straight. He held out his arms and Jimmy ran into them. Hail scattered onto the ratty carpet and began to melt. Ryan hugged his son close. The compact little body nestled against his heart. Who said love at first sight didn’t happen?
“Hello, Cat,” Jimmy cried happily. “Mom,” he turned in Ryan’s arms. “It’s my friend, Cat.”
Ryan met Claudia’s eyes. She swallowed. “This is your father, Jimmy.”
Jimmy squirmed even closer. “I knew it!” he squealed.
There was only one thing to do and Ryan did it. He gathered his strength and hoisted himself upright on one leg with the boy in his arms. It was an ungraceful operation. But at least he didn’t drop his son. Jimmy put both arms around Ryan’s neck and throttled him. “Are you really my Daddy?” he stage whispered.
“I am.”
“My Daddy!” Another fierce, throttling hug.
“Sit down before
you fall down,” Claudia was on her knees gathering the hail from the carpet.
“Daddy Cat has a hurt leg,” Jimmy announced loudly as Ryan staggered back to the armchair. He had lost his cane somewhere.
“He does. So you have to be gentle with him,” Claudia advised. “And try to use your inside voice.”
“Okay,” trumpeted Jimmy. The kid had been quiet enough in the woods. He apparently took the mute button off indoors. Just like his cousins.
Ryan settled the cub on his lap with Jimmy’s weight on his left leg. “I’m glad to meet you, son,” he said very quietly.
“And I’m glad to meet you,” bellowed Jimmy. “Mommy.” He swiveled, crushing Ryan’s right thigh, “Is my daddy going to live with us, like Matthew’s daddy?”
Claudia swallowed. She smiled. At least Ryan thought that was what her mouth was trying to do. The soft plushy quality had disappeared. Her lips were now two thin, pale lines. “Yes,” she croaked. She cleared her throat, “Yes, he is.”
Bingo. He had her.
“Can he sleep in my room?”
It was a better suggestion than the boy knew. “I think that would be a grand idea – just until we get to know one another better,” Ryan said. “Do you want to show me your room?”
“Yes!”
Claudia looked dubious but she handed Ryan his cane. He set Jimmy on his feet and took one small pudgy hand in his. Jimmy tugged him down a crooked hall to a minuscule room.
The narrow bed was tucked under the window between the two side walls. A tiny dresser with a bookcase resting on it was crammed between the bed and the door. A red, white and blue, oval rag rug filled up the remaining floor space. All the floor space.
“Where will I sleep?” Ryan asked.
“In my bed, with me.” Jimmy suddenly looked concerned. His gaze went from the bed, traveled up to Ryan’s eyes and back down again. “Will we both fit?” he asked his mother.
“I can’t see how. Daddy is too big. Maybe Daddy should sleep at his house for a little longer.”
“No! Matthew’s daddy sleeps in Matthew’s mommy’s bed.”
“That’s traditional, son,” Ryan assured the boy. “I bet your Grandma Peterson shares a room with your Grandpa.”
Jimmy nodded. “They do. And when I stay with them I get to snuggle in the morning.”
“Also traditional. But I have a better suggestion. I could sleep on your rug in cougar.”
Claudia looked shocked. Jimmy looked beyond delighted. But then he shook his head. “Not in the house,” he explained sadly. “It’s a rule.”
It was. Queen’s Rule Number One. But how did the boy know that? Ryan looked at Claudia, who shrugged.
“You’ll get used to it,” she informed him dryly.
Get used to what? But this was no time to discuss the boy. It was imperative that he make it plain to Claudia that she was in charge. No cougar ever bullied his mate. A cougar’s queen was his to cherish. This match might be cobbled together, but it was likely to be the only one he ever had. And it was going to be as traditional as he could manage.
“It’s your mom’s house,” he told Jimmy firmly. “She gets to decide where we all sleep.”
“We’ll have supper first,” she said. “And decide afterward.”
“But, Mom,” wailed Jimmy.
“You heard your mother,” Ryan said quietly. He flashed a quick look at Jimmy from narrowed eyes.
Jimmy had a half-second when he thought of escalating his challenge. But he must have decided that Ryan meant business, for he smiled blindingly. His eyes blinked at Ryan, who blinked back lovingly.
“What’s for dinner?” Ryan asked his wife.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Claudia~
The meal was nothing fancy. The opposite, in fact. She always cooked the week’s meals during the previous weekend and froze them. That way she could spend her time with her son instead of scrambling dinner together with her attention divided.
But Fridays she served Jimmy’s favorite. Macaroni and cheese. She did add grated cheddar to the finished product, and she had made a salad to go with it. But there was no denying it was a humble meal. Boring even. Ryan ate it as if he were starving.
“This is good,” he said. “I’m very tired of my own company.”
He had to be dreadfully lonely if mac and cheese from a box with a messy kid was an improvement on his own table. If he was being sincere. Hadn’t he said he wasn’t a liar? Just twenty kinds of a bastard. Her stomach clenched but she smiled insincerely back at him.
“Thank you for saying so,” she said.
Jimmy put his spoon down. “Can I have seconds?” he demanded.
Ryan flashed her a look. An eat-your-dinner-I’ve-got-this look. “Did you enjoy your dinner, son?” he asked gently.
“Yes. It’s my favorite!”
“I’m glad. Always tell your mom that you liked the food she cooked for you, before you ask for more.”
“Is that a rule?”
“It is.” Ryan’s deep voice was grave.
“Mom never asked me to do that,” Jimmy said slyly.
“Still the rule.”
Jimmy thought. He turned to her. “Mommy, it was extra good tonight. Can I have more?” He thought. “Please?”
“When you’ve finished your salad.”
“I’m not hungry for salad. I’m hungry for ‘roni.” He looked between them under his lashes.
Ryan’s face was an implacable blank, but somehow she knew he was dying to smile. “You heard your mom,” he repeated. It seemed to be his mantra.
“Aww.” But Jimmy finished his portion of lettuce and cucumber. He did not care for tomatoes and she always left them out of his serving.
Ryan returned his gaze to her. He winked. It felt like they were a team.
“Would you like seconds?” she asked him. She had made two boxes just in case.
“No, thank you. I understand you have a part-time job at the First and Last.” It was a question.
Her boss Morley (Nosy) Parker was the third Parker to head up the First Bank of Mystic Bay, known to everyone on the island as the First and Last Bank of Mystic Bay. But little pitchers had big ears and she was grateful to have employment.
“Mr. Parker was kind enough to take me on as a teller.” But not kind enough to give her a full-time job and the benefits that went with it. On the other hand, she got off work in time to pick Jimmy up at three thirty, which was a bonus.
“I thought you trained as an accountant.”
“I did. But there are no jobs on the island for an accountant, and my online business is just a twinkle in my eye.”
Ryan leaned forward. “It’s up to you, of course, but if you want to quit working at the First and concentrate on the boy and your business, you’ll be able to.”
Jimmy spoke with green teeth. Ryan was going to be less charmed by his stepson in a couple of seconds. But he laid a big hand on the little one waving the fork. Pinned it to the table. “We don’t speak with our mouths full of food.”
Jimmy closed his mouth and swallowed.
“Have a drink of milk, and tell us if you are still hungry,” Ryan said quietly.
Jimmy complied. He had a big white mustache when he finished his milk. “I’m still hungry,” he announced. “For ‘roni.”
Ryan rose. “I’ll get it. You rest, Claudia. You did all the work.”
He was doing it deliberately. Acting like a father. Acting like a husband. Showing her how pleasant it would be for Jimmy to have two parents. And, damn him, it was working. They felt like a family.
Jimmy wolfed down his second serving in a way that made her worry that he was going to have yet another growth spurt. She glanced at Ryan and relaxed. He could pay for all new clothes and shoes without feeling the pinch.
“There are berries for dessert,” she said.
“Are they in the fridge?” Ryan asked. He got up. He was limping and awkward but he cleared the table anyway.
“In a bowl. Yogurt
is draining in the sieve.”
“Sit. Please. I can dish up a few berries. Jimmy, do you want a few or a lot?”
“I want three.” He held up three fingers. “I’m three.”
“So you are. How many berries did you want?”
“Three.”
Ryan put a hand to his ear as if suddenly stricken deaf.
“Please.”
Jimmy ate his three raspberries with great solemnity. Wiped his mouth. Looked at Ryan. “Thank you for making the berries, Mommy. Thank you for serving the berries, Daddy.”
Ryan cleared his throat. “You’re welcome, son.”
Her little imp was laying on the charm. She waited for the other shoe to drop.
“Where is Daddy going to sleep?”
If she hesitated, Jimmy would remind her she had promised to decide after dinner. “On the couch.”
“Oh.” Jimmy looked between them. “He could sleep in your room. On the floor.”
Ryan shook his head. “You heard your mother. What’s next, Claudia?”
“You get to wash the dishes. I get to wash Jimmy. If you do a good job, you can read him a bedtime story.”
“Deal.” He got up and limped to the sink where he had piled the scraped plates.
“But Daddy has a sore leg,” objected Jimmy.
“Which is why I am going to stand here peacefully washing the dishes, while your mother whips her weight in wildcats in the bathroom.”
Jimmy went off chortling happily at his father’s witticism. All through the splashing and playing with boats and fishies and her travails with soap and a washcloth, she could hear Ryan’s uneven footsteps as he moved around the kitchen.
So he wasn’t just washing the dishes. He was doing the pots and wiping the table. And sweeping. Jimmy was an enthusiastic eater, but he left the floor covered in food.
She hadn’t expected Ryan to acquiesce without a murmur to sleeping on the couch. Not when he had told her he wanted a child. And not after her unguarded and foolish response to his kiss. She had certainly implied she was willing to have sex. She was grateful she wasn’t in for a tussle tonight.
The kitchen was shining and everything seemed to be standing at attention. The table and chairs sat squarely under the light fixture. The dish towels were aligned neatly on the rack.
Cherished by the Cougar_A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance Page 6
