Silas (Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (Desired by a Dragon Book 1)

by Wolf,Terra

  Scarlet flung the blankets away from her face and moved into a sitting position. Her head tipped to the side as she stared at me with curiosity burning through her bronze-colored eyes.

  She’d picked up on everything I hoped she wouldn’t.

  “Why do you ask?” she demanded.

  I pushed the door open wider, leaning against the frame while still holding her gaze. “Just curious.”

  “There has to be a reason why you’re asking.” She slipped out of bed and pushed past me. I followed behind her as she descended the stairs, knowing she was headed for the kitchen, at the same time positive she wouldn’t give me the information I wanted until I told her why I was asking.

  “I already told you, curiosity.”

  She paused once she reached the coffee machine. I watched as she grabbed the pot and placed it beneath the tap to fill it with water. “Bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?” I folded my tall frame into one of the uncomfortable chairs Scarlet had insisted we had to have at the breakfast table and stared at her.

  “I call bullshit.” She poured water into the machine. “You and I both know there isn’t a single person in this town you’ve cared to ask a thing about. Not even their name, Silas. So what is it about this woman that has your muscles twisted into knots and your pheromones kicking?” She arched a brow.

  “Not true.” It was, but I wasn’t about to admit it. Maybe the stubborn streak that always ran through Scarlet was suddenly becoming dominant in me as well.

  After dumping more scoops than necessary of her coconut coffee into the machine and pressing the button, she twisted around to face me. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “What? No,” I scoffed.

  “You do.” She grinned. “Admit it. You have the hots for the new neighbor.”

  “Whatever.” I stood and started toward the stairs.

  “Violet,” Scarlet called after me. “Her name is Violet Hanner. She’s the new hairdresser at the salon on Maple you visit all the time. Camille’s place. That’s all I know about her.”

  Violet. A shiver rushed along my spine as the name linked with her beautiful face in my mind. I started up the steps, thinking to myself it was probably time I had my hair cut.

  Chapter 3

  Violet

  I shifted around on my feet. My ankle was still tender, but I didn’t let that stop me from making it into work this morning. I’d already wasted four days unpacking and arranging things in my new space. Interior decorating was not my forte. Or maybe change wasn’t. Frustration had heated my blood the last couple of days while I struggled to find places for my belongings that didn’t remind me of the way Jackson and I had positioned them in our house. After a while, I reached a point where I realized I was going to have to suck it up and live with some things being set up in a way that reminded me of Jackson, because I didn’t have money to purchase new furniture or knickknacks.

  This move had drained my savings account bone dry.

  Thank goodness Camille had asked if I wanted to start today instead of on Monday. Everyone knew Saturdays were the busiest days at a salon. Back home, those were the days I stayed booked solid. I’d fit in as many cuts as I could, leaving my more time-consuming appointments of perms and colors for during the week.

  “Sugar, you want some lunch from the sandwich shop around the corner?” Camille’s southern voice pulled me from my thoughts.

  “What do they have?” I wasn’t a picky eater, but there were a few things I noticed on menus from the handful of places I’d already eaten at in town that I wouldn’t consume if I was paid to. Frog legs, which seemed to be a hot commodity at a few of the places I’d ventured to, was at the top of that list.

  “Sandwiches.” She smirked. “It’s pretty basic, but they have the best tasting meats.”

  My stomach growled. It was nearly one in the afternoon and I had yet to eat today. I’d been too excited and nervous to even eat a Pop-Tart this morning. Instead, I’d settled for a giant mug of coffee—which I’d refilled twice already. Camille seemed to harbor a love for coffee as strongly as I did, considering she was on mug number three herself.

  “What are you having?” I hated to be a copycat, but at this point I was so hungry and jazzed from all the coffee I’d consumed I couldn’t care less what type of sandwich she ordered me.

  “My usual. A BLT with extra bacon and light on the mayo.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll have one too.”

  Camille riffled through the stack of menus in the top drawer of the receptionist desk. I wasn’t one hundred percent positive yet, but by the abundance of takeout menus she collected, I assumed she wasn’t much of a cook at home.

  “Here.” She held up a white and green paper menu. “Take a look and make sure there isn’t something else you’d rather order.”

  I left my station and headed to where she sat. The place we were ordering from was called The Pavilion. I scanned the menu, searching for anything that sounded better than a BLT. When I spotted a tuna melt, my mouth began to water.

  I loved tuna, but Jackson hated it. An old memory of him making gagging noises after I’d eaten a tuna sandwich filled my mind. He’d been such an ass. My blood simmered as a floodgate of memories of him being a douche opened in my mind. I gathered myself before I went too far off the deep end and for a split second, I actually thanked Kimmy for being the slut that she was. She’d saved me so much heartache in the long run. It was sad I hadn’t realized how miserable I’d been with Jackson until now. God, I’d wasted five whole years with that dick.

  “Actually, I think I’ll have a tuna melt,” I said, happy with my choice. It was one more step toward getting back the old me before Jackson had entered my life.

  “Those are so good!” Camille picked her cell up and held out a hand for the menu. “Let me see that menu again. I always get the last two digits flipped around on their number.”

  By the time our food arrived, my first hair coloring at the salon was finished. The lady said she wanted to go with something different than what she’d had before, but Camille quietly mentioned the woman always said she wanted something different when really she didn’t. Apparently, the first time Camille gave her a different shade than what she had come in with, the lady burst into tears and said she hadn’t been ready for something so drastic. Since then, all Camille had done for her was touch up her roots and give her a few highlights in a shade lighter. I’d done the same, and from the look on the old woman’s face, I was glad I had.

  My original thought had been to go with a light honey and some blond streaks throughout to lighten her up, but sticking to what she’d originally had done seemed fine. The woman was ecstatic as she shifted in the chair, struggling to see each side of her head. I held up a mirror and positioned it so she could see the back.

  “This looks fabulous!” she gushed as she ran her fingers through her hair.

  I smiled. Her name was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t remember it. I’d always been bad with names. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it. I’ll definitely be back soon.” She slipped out of the chair and headed toward the receptionist desk, where Camille was eating her BLT. “You did well when you hired this one.” The old woman’s crooked finger shook in my direction.

  “I think I did too.” Camille grinned and winked at me. I noticed a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth and made a motion to let her know. Without seeming the slightest bit embarrassed, she used her tongue to dislodge it. “Yeah, she’s definitely a keeper.”

  “You got that right.” The old woman pulled out her wallet and paid Camille. “I plan to tell everyone about this place!”

  “Well, thank you, Mrs. Dixon.” Camille took the money from her, and from the look on her face I gathered the impression that Mrs. Dixon said things like this each time she came for a visit.

  My lips pinched into a thin line as I wondered if maybe she wasn’t all there in the head.

  “Have a good day, ladies.” T
he old woman waved goodbye as she made her way out the door.

  “I can’t believe how excited she was. I didn’t do anything except touch up the color she already had.” I reached for the sweet tea that came with my sandwich.

  “I know. She’s like that every time.” Camille handed me the white paper bag with my sandwich inside. “She’s a little off her rocker. Has been since her husband died a year ago.”

  Shock rippled through me. “Oh, that’s so sad.”

  “Yeah, his passing was the talk of the town.”

  “Why?” I pulled my sandwich from inside the bag. The white wrapping paper crinkled as I locked eyes with Camille. I had no idea why the death of an old man would be the talk of the town unless he was someone important, but from the excitement swirling through Camille’s eyes I wondered if there was something juicier to the story.

  “Mr. Dixon was a very friendly old man.” The way she said friendly had me thinking all sorts of things that were far from the true meaning of the word. “In fact, he was friendly with three other women in town besides his wife. At least that’s what they say.”

  Thoughts of Jackson and how friendly he’d been with Kimmy flashed through my mind. I took a long sip from my tea, hoping to wash the lump in my throat away. “Yikes. That sucks.”

  Camille wiped mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth before she continued with her story. “Exactly. Everyone knew, even Mrs. Dixon, but she never said anything, so neither did anyone else. We all went on pretending we didn’t see anything, same as she did. Until one day, when Mr. Dixon went to his favorite fishing spot on the marshy, swampy side of town and never came back.”

  “He never came back?”

  “Nope. Rumors spread claiming Mrs. Dixon had done something to cause him to disappear.”

  An image of the sweet old woman plotting to kill her husband and then actually going through with it flashed through my mind. I couldn’t see it, but then again I didn’t know her. I did, however, know the pain and humiliation she’d felt from her husband’s actions. When I thought from that point of view, I supposed it could be possible.

  “People also said it could have been one of his lovers who was pissed he wouldn’t leave his wife too, though,” Camille added as an afterthought.

  “Did they find a body?”

  “Yeah. He surfaced a few nights after his disappearance. Something from the swamps had nibbled on him, but Mrs. Dixon was still able to identify the body.”

  “That’s horrible.” I glanced at my sandwich, unsure if I would be able to finish it as thoughts of a half-eaten old man filtered through my mind.

  “Not really. It’s sort of poetic justice, don’t you think?” Camille tossed the wrapper from her sandwich into the trash can and reached for her bag of chips. “He was a slimy sleaze, and it served him right to die in the equally slimy, murky waters of the swamp. Mrs. Dixon is better off without him.”

  “Amen to that. One less cheater in the world.” I couldn’t help the bitter edge to my tone. Mrs. Dixon’s story had hit a personal note.

  “You sound like you have some hostility toward the situation.” Camille arched a brow. “Got something in common with old Mrs. Dixon?”

  I thought for a second, wondering what to say. Did I want to tell anyone in this town about my past with Jackson? The best part of starting fresh was forgetting about the shit that happened in the past and having a clean slate to move forward with. If I mentioned what propelled me to pack everything I owned and move three states away, I was sure the news would spread fast around this tiny town. Then I would be the woman everyone pitied. Or worse, I’d be labeled as damaged goods. Both were reasons why I’d left my hometown. I couldn’t stand how sorry for me everyone seemed to be.

  The door to the salon opened as a new customer strolled in. I crammed a large bite of my sandwich in my mouth with the hope that the conversation between Camille and I would be forgotten. I glanced over my shoulder to see who’d entered and nearly choked on my food when I realized it was my sexy next door neighbor. He was dressed in gray slacks paired with a green dress shirt. He seemed out of place against the fake bamboo plants on either side of the door and the brightly colored walls of the salon, but he still looked as sinful as I remembered him to be.

  “Silas, what are you doing here?” Camille wiped her hands across her jeans. “I don’t think you’re on the agenda for today.” She started flipping through her book.

  Silas. So that’s his name. I reached for my tea to help wash down the large bite of sandwich I’d crammed into my mouth, while thinking how I would gladly have him on my agenda any day of the week.

  Silas, I repeated again in my mind. What kind of name was that, anyway? It sounded exotic and sexy. I liked the way it sounded and secretly began waiting for a chance when I would be alone so I could let it roll off my tongue and see how it felt.

  “I know.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and dropped his gaze to his shiny black shoes. He seemed uneasy, which made me smile. Uneasy was adorable on him. Until I began to worry he might have a thing for Camille.

  And why wouldn’t he? She was gorgeous: in her early thirties with sun-kissed skin, big blue eyes, and hair perfectly highlighted with the most spectacular shades of blonde. Any guy would be interested in her, especially this one. The two of them would make a really cute couple, with freaking gorgeous babies.

  Sparks of jealousy shifted beneath my skin, making me feel stupid. I didn’t know him. I’d just learned his name. For all I knew, he and Camille had a thing going. Hell, he could even be married. I had seen a beautiful girl going in and out of his place numerous times the last few days. Not that I’d been staring, but it was hard not to notice someone so young and voluptuous—especially when she was sunbathing in the skimpiest bathing suit I’d ever seen.

  “I think I’m a few days early.” His eyes landed on mine and I became submerged in their rich golden color. “I have a long lunch break today, so I figured I’d come by and give the new girl a try.”

  My cheeks heated. There was a level of intensity behind his stare that had my teeth sinking into my bottom lip for a nibble. The spark of something flared in his eyes from my gesture, desire maybe?

  Camille said something and the spark disappeared.

  “Would that be okay with you?” Silas was staring at me, but for some reason my brain didn’t comprehend he was talking to me until just enough time had ticked away for me to look ridiculous.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” My eyes shifted between Camille and Silas, wondering what I’d missed.

  “Mrs. Dixon has been praising your abilities everywhere in town, so I figured I’d swing by on my lunch break and see if you owned up to all the hype,” Silas said. “I can wait though, if you’re still eating.”

  Tuna. Why the hell did I have to order tuna today? I reached for my sweet tea and took another sip in the hopes of hiding my fish breath.

  “Um. Yeah, sure. I could do you right now.” My eyes bugged out of my head as soon as the words fell from my mouth. “I didn’t mean do you, I meant fit you in.”

  He scratched at his eyebrow as a wide grin spread onto his face. It was similar to the one I’d seen before, the one that had me thinking he was trouble. “Okay.”

  “Head on over to her station, honey.” Camille motioned for Silas to take a seat. Once he turned his back to us and started toward my station, she slipped me a mint. “Relax. I know he’s hotter than Hades, but you’ve got to calm down, sugar.”

  “He’s not yours?” I wasn’t sure why I’d asked. Of course he wasn’t hers. She wouldn’t be passing me a mint and telling me to chill out if he was. It was a shame though, because knowing he belonged to someone else would ease my nerves, especially if that someone was Camille.

  “Nope. Silas LeFroy doesn’t belong to anyone as far as I know.” Camille took a sip of her soda, her eyes never wavering from mine. “But a lot of women wish they belonged to him in this town.”

  “What about the girl I saw coming an
d going from his house all week?” I asked in a hushed whisper. My eyes glanced his way, looking to see if he was staring at us while we chatted. He had pulled out his cell and seemed to be reading something. His brows were furrowed together in an adorable look of concentration.

  “What girl?” She leaned forward in her chair and eyed me. “Have you been spying on him?”

  “What? No. Not really.” I shook my head. Camille’s red lips twisted into a full on grin. “Maybe just a little, but it’s hard not to notice a guy like that when he’s your neighbor.”

  Her brows lifted to her hairline. “Neighbor? You moved into the house beside him?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, wondering if that was a bad thing. She sounded as though it might be.

  “Lucky duck.” She toyed with her straw. Maybe I’d misjudged her tone. “And the girl you’ve seen is his little sister, Scarlet.”

  “Oh.” Little sister. I guess that made sense. Sort of. I tried to think of all the reasons why Silas would allow his sister to live with him. She seemed young, but not young enough to be unable to live on her own. Maybe she was in college. She could be visiting for summer break.

  “Don’t get too comfortable in that chair.” Camille nudged my knee with hers. “You’ve got someone’s hair to cut still.”

  I shifted the mint around in my mouth as I stood up, and wiped my hands on my capris. As I started toward Silas I scolded myself for not wearing something more presentable. Then I remembered I didn’t have anything presentable. My entire wardrobe consisted of yoga pants, cotton capris, drawstring shorts, and tank tops. I didn’t wear dresses and I didn’t wear skirts. However, my favorite pair of jeans and a top that didn’t have colorful pineapples printed on it would have been nice right about now.

  “Hey, sorry to have kept you waiting.” My voice sounded too mousy, so I cleared my throat before I said anything more. “What would you like done today?”