by Riley Storm
A Mate to Embrace
Dragons of Mount Aterna (Book 4)
A Five Peaks Novel
Riley Storm
A Mate to Embrace
Copyright© 2020 Riley Storm
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, without written permission from the author. The sole exception is for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood-related.
Edited by Trevor Mendham. thecaringeditor.com
Cover Designs by Kasmit Covers
Table of Contents
A Mate to Embrace
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Other Books by Riley Storm
About the Author
Chapter One
Grace
Her ex-husband was dead.
The reality of it hadn’t truly sunk in until now, as she sat at the back of the small stone church. The pews were mostly empty. At the front, his mother and sister sat, heads bowed. A few other people were seated here or there, but it was a sparse gathering for sure.
Apparently in the years since she’d left, he’d not made any more friends, and lost what few he’d had.
Grace looked down at the empty ring finger on her left hand. She hadn’t worn the wedding band since the day she threw it at him and stormed out of his life, and out of Five Peaks. That had been one of the worst days of her life.
Today she sat in silence, trying to decipher how she felt. Regretful, of course, that any human life had come to an end. She would never have wished death on her ex, not even when things were at their worst. But to say she felt remorse? Sadness? No, none of those applied.
It had been four long years since she had signed the divorce papers. Three years, three-hundred and sixty-two days since she’d had three bottles of wine in one night to celebrate. That was that.
Jack Stile was out of her life, for good, she’d said. Goodbye and good-riddance.
Until a week ago, when his mother had called to tell her that he was dead. Grace had always maintained a good relationship with Kathy Stile. Jack’s mother knew her son hadn’t treated her well, and that he was an idiot for letting her go. None of that was held against Grace. Kathy had only called out of politeness, so that Grace didn’t find out from someone else.
The details had been sparse, but Grace honestly did not care. She was sad that his life had come to an abrupt end, but she valued all human life. The emotions had long since been cried out of her. Now he was nothing more than another person to her.
I should probably feel worse about this.
If anything was bugging her, it was the fact that Grace didn’t feel much toward him. Society told her that she should be distraught, or at the minimum upset and sad about Jack. Guilt at her lack of emotion was starting to weigh heavily on her.
Kathy had told her she didn’t have to come to the funeral, and Grace had almost taken her up on that. Still, she’d felt it was the appropriate thing to do. Besides, there had been a box of her old stuff in his house with her name on it. Since Kathy had been handling everything so well, it seemed proper that Grace take the box instead of telling Kathy to toss it. Maybe it would help her feel like she was doing something.
One of the other attendee’s shifted on their pew, turning back toward her. Grace quickly bowed her head, trying to avoid eye contact. The last thing she wanted to do was see anyone else from her past. Anyone who would remember…
It’s been five years since you left. I’m sure they’ve forgotten.
Maybe. But she hadn’t. She couldn’t. How could she, after what had happened? It burned to even think about.
This was the part Grace dreaded the most. Having to talk to anyone from back then. Even making eye contract was enough to cause her to tremble slightly. By sitting in the very back, she’d hoped to avoid this awkward part, to spare herself the interaction.
She kept her head bowed for the rest of the service. Was she over-reacting? Maybe, but did she care? No. The instant she could take a break and get up, she did, heading not for the main exit, but the side exit instead, hoping nobody would think to follow her that way.
Hanging a left in the foyer she went down a trio of stairs, into a small room where children were usually housed for Sunday school, and then pushed open the door with the red Exit sign above it.
Emerging outside, Grace looked up and inhaled the fresh mountain air deeply, feeling the late summer day in the breeze. Fall was closing in now, and the leaves would be turning color soon, but for now it was still that perfect temperature to enjoy life outside without need for an extra layer.
Gravel crunched behind her.
“Hello Grace.”
She turned to see who it was and gasped.
“Braz?” she stammered, dumbfounded. “What the heck are you doing here?”
“The same as you,” the giant in a sleek, slate gray, double-breasted suit said, casting his amber eyes downward. “Paying my respects.”
“Respects?” she almost growled. “To Jack? Since when did those go hand in hand for you?”
Braz held his tongue.
It had been five and half years since she’d last seen Braz.
“What do you want?” she asked in a gentler tone, watching his youthful features relax when she made it clear she wasn’t going to say anything else harsh.
He was older than she, but somehow he still had that same zest for life in him, reflected in the big, thick lips and broad face that could light up a room whenever he smiled. Although he’d clearly shaved that morning, a shadow was already on his face and it was only two in the afternoon.
“I was hoping we could talk,” he said quietly, not bothering with any sort of lead-up.
Just bam. Like that. ‘We need to talk’.
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m busy the rest of the day.” She glanced back at the church, as if that should explain everything.
It was a blunt, bald-faced lie, and one she felt slightly guilty saying. Grace didn’t want to talk to anyone while she was back in Five Peaks. If there was a list though, starting with the person she
most did not want to talk to, Braz Aterna would be at its head.
After all, he was the one who made it so hard for her to come back to her hometown. It was because of him that she hadn’t been back, not even once. He was the source of her embarrassment, her shame.
“Please, Grace. Can you stick around, spend a few more days here? I really would like to talk to you.”
Truthfully, she’d booked her hotel for the weekend, but that was more of a ‘just in case’ than any actual plan to stay around. Wasn’t it?
“What do you want to talk about Braz?” she asked, folding her arms in half, eyeing him cautiously. “We haven’t talked in a long time.”
“I just want to talk to you,” he said, shifting his weight back and forth, looking very uncomfortable for a man of his size.
She was about to say no. To tell him that this time in her life was over. Past. That she had moved on, and was happy living back in Kennewick Falls. That she didn’t need him.
Then Braz said something she couldn’t brush off.
“I…I’ve missed you.” he murmured.
His words slithered past her defenses, worming their way deep into a dark hole, past a lock and into a box she thought she’d shut down years ago.
“I could maybe do lunch tomorrow,” she heard herself say.
Chapter Two
Grace
If the weather on the day of Jack’s funeral had been nice, today it was downright gorgeous.
Even before she’d left her hotel Grace had decided she didn’t need a jacket. The sun was up, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the warmth was already telling her that she might regret wearing pants before the day was out. She’d thought about jeans, but thankfully had decided against that in favor of something more lightweight.
The distance from her hotel to the little restaurant Braz wanted to meet her at was short enough that she walked, even with the sun at its midday fullest. Hidden behind her large, round sunglasses Grace looked around. She didn’t have to go to the main ‘strip’ to meet up with Braz thankfully, but she still wondered if anyone would recognize her.
Let’s just hope not.
Putting her head down, feet churning faster as well, Grace made good time and arrived at the restaurant a little early.
She paused at the door, feeling a tingle on the back of her neck. Looking behind her and then around, she tried to see what might have caused it. Had someone noticed her? Recognized her for who she was? But nobody seemed to have stopped to look at her or whisper to their companion. Everyone was simply going about their business.
With a shrug—You’re just imagining things. Nobody remembers you.—she pulled open the door.
Little Cerino’s was just as she remembered it. Small, cloistered, full of red and white checker-patterned everything, and smelling absolutely delicious. The gentleman who ran it, Gino, could be seen bustling in the back. He had to be into his seventies now, but he loved working in the restaurant, whether it was serving the customers, or haranguing his new staff and telling them that they just weren’t doing it right. (Even when they often were).
Gino was a treasure, and Grace smiled. She’d had more than one memory here. Most of them good too.
It didn’t surprise her that Braz wasn’t there yet. She was about five minutes early. That meant, if he hadn’t changed much, that he would be arriving any second, but this time around at least, she’d beaten him. It hadn’t been part of her plan. In fact, Grace’s plan had been to show up precisely on time. Talk for ten minutes, then leave.
Instead she was now forced to pick a table and sit at it. This would give Braz entirely the wrong impression. She didn’t want to be here; much as Cerino’s could conjure up pleasant memories, it also had some negative ones.
It was here that she had last seen or talked to Braz. Cerino’s was where her life in Five Peaks had begun to fall apart. At least, that’s how it felt.
A gust of fresh air entered the cramped quarters—there were only half a dozen tables, three seats at the bar and a little area for pickup and takeout. Grace looked up sharply, expecting to see Braz.
It wasn’t him. Just some stranger, wearing a black suit, white shirt and black tie— standard business attire—come to pick up his lunch before heading back to work, most likely. He came in, gave Grace a quick once over as he scanned the entire restaurant and then took his food and left.
“You hungry?”
She stirred for a second time, looking over at the call that had come from behind the bar. It was Gino himself.
“You order up here,” he said.
“I’m waiting on someone,” she said with a polite smile. “Thank you though.”
Gino nodded and ducked back into the kitchen. A moment later she heard some good-natured shouting about how to cook pasta properly. It was impossible to keep the smile off her face entirely.
“Hi.”
Grace nearly jumped out of her chair as her head whipped around to see a stranger standing in front of her table. It wasn’t Braz.
“Hello, can I help you?” she said politely, noting his outfit. What was with the black suits? Weren’t they boiling on a day like today? Five Peaks wasn’t exactly a metropolitan business district. Surely they could be allowed to wear something more comfortable.
“I hope so,” the man said, his face splitting in a smile that she knew was probably supposed to come across as charming, but somehow missed the mark.
It was the eyes. The smile didn’t carry up to the blue eyes. They remained flat and almost still as he slid in across from her uninvited.
“Someone else is sitting there,” she said dully, already tired of whatever his game was. She simply didn’t want any.
“I won’t be long,” he promised, smile widening. “I just wanted to know if I was right or not.”
“About?” she asked, wondering why she was humoring him.
“If you’re Grace Stile?” he asked.
She snorted. “I haven’t gone by that name in a long time buddy. Not sure what you’re here for, but I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”
“That’s the answer I was hoping for,” he said, smiling even bigger. “What are you doing for dinner? Can I take you out?”
“Do I know you?” she asked, frowning. Something about him seemed almost a little familiar now.
“I’m Johnny. Johnny Larson? We went to high school together,” he said, sitting back in his chair, suddenly relaxing.
“Oh my goodness. Johnny Larson,” she said, the name coming back to her, as did the face, aged by about fifteen years and less a lot of weight. “I remember you now, yes. You’ve certainly changed a bit,” she added.
“Ditched the beer belly and the overalls for a suit, I know,” he said with a grin.
“Right. I can see that.” Grace was still tamping down any reaction to his presence. She barely remembered Johnny, and she was still supposed to be meeting with Braz, who was now late.
The last thing she was going to do was agree to a date with someone from a more distant past. Which, she knew, was the only place Johnny was going with everything. It had to be. If he wasn’t, then he wouldn’t be so nervous and tight about everything.
“Listen, what are you doing later?” he asked, dropping the hammer that she’d already seen coming.
He’d asked once already, but now that they’d established they ‘knew’ each other, he seemed to think it was okay to try again. Grace still wasn’t interested.
“Leaving,” she said politely. “I’m going home.”
“Okay.” He tried to play it off like he didn’t understand what she meant, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes that betrayed him.
“I live in Kennewick Falls now, Johnny,” she said. “It was nice to see you though.”
A flash of something crossed his eyes, but thankfully he didn’t push the issue any further. It was already awkward enough.
“Of course. Sorry to bother you Grace. Have a great day,” he said tightly, sliding up from
his chair and leaving Cerino’s behind.
She slumped forward. “Why me?” she moaned softly, wishing she could have just come back to Five Peaks and avoided everyone. She’d left this life behind on purpose.
“You hungry? What can I get you?” Gino asked, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
Grace looked at her wrist, the fitness band lighting up with the time. Ten minutes past their meeting time.
“No, I’m good thanks,” she said with a grimace. “Looks like I’ve been stood up.”
Gino inclined his head in understanding, not saying another word, retreating behind the door, leaving Grace to herself.
“Perfect,” she muttered. “Thanks Braz, for nothing.”
Sliding out of the chair she headed for the door. It was time she left Cerino’s, left the hotel, and left Five Peaks for good. She was never coming back, there was nothing tying her to this place anymore.
Grace’s anger continued to simmer as she headed back to the hotel. This was the second time Braz had embarrassed her, making her feel like an idiot in front of other people. How could he do this to her again, even if years had passed in between? Did he hate her, for some reason? For not listening to him all those years ago?
You know what? I just don’t care anymore. I just don’t.
She was heading back to the hotel, to check out, pack all her stuff and ditch Five Peaks.
Forever.
Chapter Three
Braz
He slipped back into the alcove in front of the store as the second of the two men came out of Cerino’s.
Watching them both closely, Braz tried to determine if he was being overly paranoid or not.
His senses had kicked in as he approached the little Italian-themed restaurant and saw the first man exit, holding his food order. Something about him had set off warning bells, and so Braz had paused, pretending to admire something in a shop window while he watched the man out of the corner of his eye.
Something had him on edge. Try as he might, he didn’t recognize him, but there was something in his body language that was warning Braz that he wasn’t what he pretended to be. So he stayed put, watching as the man came down the street toward him, and slipped into a black sedan.
