by Amelia Jade
The instant his boots hit the floor he snatched her up again and carried her to the couch. “Just need to be held do you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Gwen’s been…overly difficult, let’s say, today. I’m exhausted and just want someone to hold me while I rest and recover.”
He chuckled and readjusted her until she was sitting on the couch facing away from him. Elle started to pout, but moments later big, strong hands dug into her neck and she melted into a puddle, complete with noises and all.
“You are too good to me.” The words came out as a half-moan, because just before she opened her mouth his thumb found a particularly tense spot and started to ease out the tension with slow, even circles of pressure.
“Hush, let me work,” he rumbled, putting action to word as his fingers found all her pressure points and one by one massaged the tightness away.
Elle, content to let herself be pampered just this once, since it didn’t involve spending money on her, simply did as she was told, shut her mouth, and tried to relax. Little noises of happiness continued to emanate from within her as he worked.
At some point she must have dozed off, because when she awoke Elle was lying on the couch with the new fleece blanket that Braden had bought covering her from head to toe. The room was dark. He’d also pulled the blinds across the windows as well, to help her sleep. She was so spoiled.
Noiselessly she stretched, arms extended over her head, feet pointed and her toes curling over. Tendons, ligaments, muscles, and all manner of her body creaked and popped, but it felt wonderful. Much of the stress that had been inhabiting her body for most of the day was gone, chased away by Braden’s strong fingers and warm touch. She felt far more recuperated than a little nap should have left her.
Looking around, she tried to spot him, but he wasn’t nearby. Frowning, she sat up, wondering if perhaps he’d put her to bed and then gone home. He better not have! Elle had plans for after dinner, and they most definitely involved him! They kind of depended on it.
A soft thunder of laughter came from the bedroom. Elle perked up as it was followed by the unmistakable sound of a child giggling. Her eyes darted to the bedroom door, which was pushed mostly closed, likely to help dampen any sound from reaching her. She heard Braden say something, though the words themselves were unintelligible by the time they reached her. Then Gwenevere laughed again.
Biting her lip in an attempt to keep quiet, Elle eased off of the couch and onto the floor. Taking slow, measured breaths, she crept closer to the bedroom door, praying that none of the floorboards would squeak and give her away. It appeared Braden was playing with Gwen, keeping her occupied while Elle slept, and this was something she needed to see. It was one of her final lingering worries about him.
The entire time they had been dating, or whatever term they were going to use to describe their interaction, Elle had noticed a distinct barrier of sorts between Braden and Gwen. He acknowledged her baby’s presence. Wasn’t afraid to interact. To a degree. But he’d never just sort of taken over and started to play or keep her occupied. Elle had been wondering what it was all about, why the distance, but she’d never asked him.
For all she knew it could have been as simple as him not feeling comfortable with someone else’s child just yet. Or perhaps he didn’t have any experience with children. She’d heard the other women, especially Rachel and Angela, gush about how their men had just instantly bonded with their children, and she had started to fear that perhaps Braden wasn’t going to be like that.
But now, as she neared the bedroom and could hear him talking to her daughter, Elle felt much of that unease disappear. The two of them seemed to be having a grand ol’ time, and so she just lay there, on the ground, and listened to him pretend to understand what the heck she was saying.
“Are you sure?” he asked in response to one particularly ambitious gurgle from Gwen. “Okay, we can do that.”
There was a pause followed by more baby noises. Then,
“Weeee.”
Gwen’s giggles went into overdrive. She wasn’t sure what Braden was doing, but she had an idea.
“And weeeee!”
More laughter. Then the sound of him blowing air onto her skin, perhaps her stomach. Gwen laughed some more, then there was the sound of a burp.
“Good thing Mr. Fields was prepared for that one. You almost got me! But I’m just a bitttt faster!”
She smiled, looking up at the ceiling and envisioning what was going on in there. Braden was likely lifting Gwen up into the air, high into the sky and then back down again. Elle loved being high up, something that gave Elle frights that were only going to get worse. Her child was a daredevil already, and she wasn’t a year old.
It was a good thing Elle had experience dyeing her hair, because she was likely going to go gray real soon.
“Okay, all clean,” he pronounced. “But I think you’re done with the high flying for the moment. Don’t want to disturb that sensitive tummy. Do we?”
Giggle.
“Do we?”
More giggling.
Elle pulled her arms into her body, debating on whether she should try to stop smiling, or ignore the pain in her cheeks that she was starting to feel from grinning so hard.
“Should we go check on Mommy? What, are you sick of me already?”
Laughter.
“That’s not very nice. I thought we were becoming best buds!”
Silence.
“Oh wow. Mommy’s really got you working hard on that poker face, doesn’t she?”
Elle couldn’t help herself, she snorted at his byplay.
From inside the bedroom there was movement and then the door opened slightly to reveal Braden on his knees in front of a blanket he’d put on the floor, where Gwen was now crawling around on her tummy.
Braden flashed her a grin and then looked back at Gwen. “Look, there’s Mommy! She’s awake again.”
“Hey little gremlin,” she said as Gwen locked sights on her and came tearing across the floor haphazardly as only a baby can, using all fours to propel herself to an intense burst of speed. “Roarrrrr, gotcha!” she said, picking up her daughter and lifting her into the air.
Braden slid across the hardwood until he was next to her, planting a kiss on her forehead as Elle snuggled Gwen in against her chest, the child for once simply settling into place.
“I think she’s about ready for a nap. I think I tuckered her out.”
She looked up at him, lifting her chin for a kiss. He complied with her unspoken order immediately, ensuring she was properly satisfied before he pulled back.
“Did you two have fun?” she asked, speaking to both of them.
Gwen yawned. A moment later so did Braden.
He pointed at Gwen. “She started it. Yawns are contagious.”
Elle just lifted her eyebrows before giving her head a little shake. “Blaming it on the nine-month-old. Good job. Real mature of you.”
“You saw it. I don’t know why you’re acting like you didn’t. It’s not a big deal.” He punctuated that with a wave of his hand in a rather diva-esque fashion. “All you need to do is put me down for a nap after her.”
Elle laughed as she sat up, holding Gwen, who was now napping solidly. It wasn’t an easy thing, but she managed anyway. “I don’t think so, mister. You’ve got other jobs to do tonight.”
Braden paused halfway through standing up to glance at her. “Oh, so you’re a job now are you?”
“Some days probably,” she muttered, returning his smile.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Good answer.” Elle busied herself putting Gwen down for a nap, standing up with another big stretch once she was finished.
“You have a good-looking kid,” Braden said as he joined her, arms descending from above as he wrapped them around her midsection.
“Aww shucks, thank you. She takes after her mom.”
“I know,” he said in a voice that made it clear he wasn’t joking.
&nb
sp; “I’m glad to see you and her getting along. I thought for a bit there that maybe there was some bad blood between you two. That maybe Gwen wasn’t impressed you were sleeping with her mom.”
Her body vibrated as he chuckled, the deep sound transferring from his body to hers as he held her tight. “No, nothing like that. I just…had to get comfortable around her. Get to know her a little bit better, that’s all.”
Elle squeezed his arm tight with one hand. “Do you want kids of your own?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his voice. “Several, preferably.”
“Well, I don’t think I’m ready for another one just yet,” she laughed. “This one’s still pretty fresh.”
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed. “No need to rush it. Plenty of other things to do first.” He looked around. “Besides, there’s no way two kids and two adults could live in here. They just weren’t built for that.”
“That’s true. We’d need a house. With a yard. Plenty of space for the kids and the dogs.”
“The dogs?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” she asked innocently, turning in his arms to look up at him. “Two dogs.”
“Please don’t be rat-dogs, please don’t be rat-dogs, please don’t be rat-dogs.” Braden whispered it over and over again until she punched him in the gut. “I want a collie and a spaniel. I’m still sort of undecided about breeds.”
“Done,” he said instantly. “I can handle that. Collies are a mainstay on the farms we have back in Cadia. Great dogs, and they can learn to deal with our animals fairly quickly. I don’t know about spaniels though.”
“Right. I’d forgotten about your other side,” she said with an awkward smile.
“It’s easy to do, don’t worry about it. I’m obviously used to taking it into account.”
Elle nodded, trying to contain her embarrassment at such a monumental misjudgment of the person she was getting into a relationship with. It was hard not to operate under the normal belief that he was fully human. She only ever saw him like that. Evidence of his supernatural side was all around her though. From his oversized stature, to his insane muscle strength, which still caught her off guard on a near daily basis, all sorts of things pointed to him being more than human.
But it was going to take time to truly sink in deep with her, to the point where it became second nature to think of it. Elle made a mental vow that she would try harder to keep his heritage and what he was in the forefront of her mind.
“I notice you didn’t freak out about the house,” he said, injecting a little levity into the situation by waggling his eyebrows at her.
Elle grinned.
“I notice you didn’t freak out about the idea of more kids.”
Braden’s only reply was a cough that sounded suspiciously fake.
Chapter Fifteen
Braden
He spun around on the chair.
The lobby of the embassy flashed past as he counted his revolutions while the chair slowly came to a stop.
One.
Two.
Three.
Three and a half.
Four.
Four and a quarter.
It was a new personal best for that night. He stared straight at the wall for a solid thirty seconds, focusing his attention on it to help rid him of any lasting dizziness before setting up his next attempt.
“Four and a half, here we come,” he said to himself, the near-whisper still sounding like a gunshot in the empty lobby.
Evening had come and gone, and night was well underway. Cloud Lake had shut down, as a major snowstorm moved into the area. Already several inches’ worth of snow had accumulated outside, and more was expected. Even many of the shifters who would normally be out cavorting had called it a night early, realizing that their normal haunts would be slow or possibly even closed on a night like tonight.
Braden hadn’t had to do a damn thing in over an hour. Hence the chair spinning contest against himself.
He wound up, feet curled around to one side, his hands on the desk. A little backward prep, and he was off!
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Four and—
Braden came to an abrupt halt as he slammed his boots down on the tiled floor, instantly stopping the chair’s spin so that he faced the rear of the lobby. He stood, doing so slowly to counteract his mild dizziness, and then turned to face the door.
Three figures stood just inside the double doors, wet and melting snow cascading off of them onto the floor, where it continued to melt into a puddle of water. The two on either side of the middle figure were a step out and a step back, forming a triangle. None of them spoke.
In his head Braden heard all sorts of alarm bells begin to go off. Without moving his eyes from the one in the middle, who he figured had to be the leader, he contemplated his options. Getting more personnel down to the lobby seemed like a smart idea. The phone would be the easiest way, but he suspected that any move toward the desk would result in the situation escalating quickly. Similar the idea of talking really loudly or calling for anyone who might be nearby.
That only left the most undesirable choice. Keep them talking and stall until someone else heard or walked by. Considering how quiet it had been all night, Braden didn’t like his chances with that. But it was all he had.
“May I help you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice polite.
There was a long pause before the leader spoke. “We’d like to see the ambassador, please.”
His voice was raspy and soft, like someone had raked a cheese grater over the insides of his throat a few times. As he spoke he stepped forward, the black coat he wore flicking water droplets everywhere.
Suddenly Braden realized what bugged him so much about them. None of them wore a white shirt. The vast majority of shifters these days wore the standard white T-shirt, black utility pants, and tactical boots. On certain dressier occasions they would break out formal or alternative clothing. But even in the dead of winter, none of them would have been caught wearing a black coat with black shirt underneath. Or blue jeans. Yet he could tell by their stature and the way the one walked that they were shifters.
Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, keeping his attention on the leader, but not letting the others out of his peripheral vision. “But he’s retired for the night.”
“Then wake him up!” one of the underlings snarled.
The leader turned and lifted a single hand in reassurance, calming his subordinate before facing Braden once more. There was silence once again, but the glare he received from the chastised shifter spoke volumes.
“Apologies,” he said. “But we really must speak to the ambassador. It’s quite urgent you see.”
“No, I don’t see.” Braden stood there like a granite statue, letting his voice echo the same, driving the point home to the trio that he wasn’t moving. Whatever reason they could have to see Andrew, he doubted it was a good one.
The leader sighed. “Please summon him.”
“What is this about?” Braden wanted to cross his arms, but he knew that would put him at a disadvantage if the leader leapt at him.
The little step forward at the beginning of their conversation hadn’t been for show. It had brought the unknown shifter close enough that a leap powered by supernatural muscle strength would carry him right into Braden. He contemplated stepping backward, to see what happened, but decided that taunting his foes wasn’t the right course of action.
Foes. Since when had they become his enemy? There had been no overt hostility besides one unprovoked sentence. Despite that, Braden was quite aware that the entire room was a powder keg that could explode at any moment. He needed to tread lightly, and stay aware.
“It’s a private matter, between us and the ambassador.”
“And who are you?”
“Us? We’re just the ones sent on behalf of others. We’re nobodies, real
ly. We’re just here to follow orders. I’m sure you understand that.”
The verbal dancing was admirable as the leader attempted to answer the question without actually answering the question.
“Well I’m sorry, but only authorized personnel are allowed to see the ambassador. I have my orders too. They say that nobody’s to disturb the ambassador. So, seeing as you’re nobodies, I think that means you.”
You want to play verbal games? Fine, I can play verbal games too, you egotistical prick.
A slight flash of humor was quickly hidden in the eyes of the unknown spokesperson. He’s enjoying this! The revelation rushed through Braden, forcing him to reevaluate his opponent, upgrading the threat level significantly. Whoever they were, they weren’t here to just have a chat with Andrew, that much was now quite clear. They had been sent to deliver a message. The only question was, what sort?
“I think you’ll find that the ambassador is quite interested in coming out here.”
“What should I tell him then? That there are three terribly dressed folks out front messing up the lobby who say that you should come on down for a rip-roaring good time?”
He was getting tired of the constant circle-talk.
The leader smiled. “Or you could just tell him that he’s under arrest.”
Braden couldn’t help it. It was probably quite undiplomatic, and it definitely didn’t help keep the lackey with angry issues any calmer, but just then he didn’t care.
His snort of derision echoed throughout the lobby. “Hah.”
“Pardon?”
“I said ‘hah.’ Generally known as a sarcastic laugh. Anyway, try again.”
“Last time,” the leader said, his voice dull. “Get the ambassador. Now.”
“Nope, no can do.” He started whistling. Had he mentioned diplomacy wasn’t one of his strong suits?
“I’m sure we can settle this amicably,” the leader said, stepping up until he was right in front of Braden.
This had the added comedic effect of forcing the Embassy Guard to look down his nose at the shorter shifter. Even among the massive bear shifters, Braden was a big one. And he knew it.
“Of course we can. You and the other two stooges turn around, walk out the door, and go back to Cadia before I report you for being out of the territory without permission. Which, as I’m sure you know, is a major offense.” He grinned, showing just how happily he would carry out the sentence for that crime, which had a maximum penalty of death.
