by Tara Gill
I listened, riveted, as my eyes examined his visage, and the vertical scar that bisected his eyebrow and continued down below his eye to his chin. Someone had tried to gouge out his eye.
My mouth started to tremble. Other scars marred the left half of his face. Another set of claw marks started at the side of his neck and vanished inside his shirt. I remembered the overpowering maleness of his unmarked body that I’d kissed and stroked — and tears filled my eyes. God knew what other damage he was hiding in there. To his body. To his self-esteem. To his heart.
A whimper escaped me, and I swayed.
With a hangdog expression, he stared behind me, not meeting my eyes.
He was ashamed. My brave, kind Reuben, who’d tried to protect his family, had paid with pain, with these disfigurements.
All this time — while I grappled with telling him about the baby, and wondered why he didn’t call — he’d been hiding away in this house, licking his wounds.
Suddenly, I was mad. Mad at those cougars. Mad at Reuben for assuming I’d care so much about his outward appearance. But mostly, I was mad at myself.
Why did I wait so long? Instead of wallowing like a silly girl, I should have found my backbone, come straight over and gotten my man. We could have been happy for months.
I straightened my shoulders. Reuben shouldn’t ever be ashamed. His scars were those of a warrior, and I’d tell him so. Dad’s friends, fellow soldiers, lost entire limbs to mines or IEDs — damage even shifters couldn’t heal. Yes, the scars were ugly, but it was a reminder of the price they’d paid to protect people like me back home. If Reuben thought I’d be put off by his new look, he was wrong.
But first, I needed a drink. My head spun, and I was dizzy. A nausea attack felt imminent. My fingers scrabbled for support.
“Can I have some water?” I whispered. I hadn’t eaten much since this morning — a few crackers, toast, and tea. There wasn’t enough in my stomach to puke, so I’d have to settle for miserable retching,
“Um, yeah sure.” He looked puzzled, but turned for the kitchen.
Ugh. I hated retching.
I pressed my lips together until they were white, praying I wouldn’t be sick in here. “Um actually…can I use your bathroom?”
Chapter 7
Reuben
Jasmine turned a distinct shade of green, so I showed her the half bath in the downstairs guest bedroom. My mom had decorated it in light greens and whites with a black metalwork bed and dressing table that I’d fashioned. Scattered white rugs adorned the dark wood floor.
My fingers supported her back as she swayed on her feet.
“Are you not well? Did you eat anything that didn’t agree with you?” My heart was in my mouth. Was it just a minor thing? Or was it something more serious?
“Something like that,” she murmured. Jasmine tottered to the toilet and fell on her knees before it.
“Umm, could I have some privacy?” she whispered. Her face gleamed with a light layer of sweat.
I yearned to stay at her side, hold her hair back, take care of her, but I respected her wishes and left. The vomiting started even when I was in the bedroom. As I headed to the kitchen, I made a face at the retching sounds. That couldn’t be too pleasant for Jasmine. Getting her some water might be a good idea
Or perhaps I should go find a doctor.
I would check on her in a bit and find out more about her symptoms before I decided. Anyway, she’d asked for some privacy and I’d respect that.
In the kitchen, I snagged a much-needed beer from the fridge, draining half of it in one gulp before wandering over to the window, trying to calm down. I contemplated the weedy remains of my mom’s vegetable garden through the panes. The garden had completely gone to shit since she died, which I felt a little bad about – but she’d been the gardener, not me, and at this point I wouldn’t even know where to start to bring it back. It would need someone who actually knew what they were doing.
My grip tightened around the glass bottle. Jasmine showing up today, completely out of the blue, threw me for a loop. Having her in my presence meant I could breathe again. She was so vivid in person. There was so much more to her aura than what I recalled – the faint smell of vanilla, the measured way she spoke, the way her gaze speared into me with each soft look, the way her body unconsciously leaned towards me wherever we were…
Torn between yearning that she came because she craved me — like I did her —and anxiety that she would just turn around and go back home after a good look at me, I shrouded myself in the shadows of my home. I wasn’t used to exposing myself to others’ eyes anymore.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose. This wasn’t a proud moment. Hiding like a coward because I feared what a woman would think of my looks. Afraid of her judgment. Her distaste. Her condemnation. That wasn’t me.
Soft arms winding around my neck, tender fingers stroking my skin, nails digging into my back in passion, breaking my skin, velvety kisses everywhere on my body.
That glorious day in the hotel, we were skin to skin and Jasmine strained to be as close to me as I wanted her to be. That need, the beginnings of affection I’d seen in her eyes that day – I couldn’t bear watching it change to contempt or revulsion.
Earlier, when I’d explained the attack to Jasmine, she’d stared at me with dismay and horror, scrutinizing my changed appearance. Her eyes had shone with tears. My heart had thumped against my ribs, hoping against hope that she’d run into my arms and say she loved me despite everything, that the scars didn’t matter.
Instead she was puking her guts out in my toilet.
Did I repel her so much?
Leaning over, I braced my hands against the window frame. It was dark outside now, and the stars were coming out. But their beauty was lost on me. All my thoughts were with Jasmine, and my arms ached to hold her.
My thoughts raced. Maybe I was wrong, but I didn’t think Jasmine was repelled by me. Certainly, I discerned worry in her eyes and maybe shock and concern — but not distaste. The only way to find out was to man up and have a conversation about this. One that I needed to go my way.
I finished the beer and slammed the bottle down. It was getting quiet in there, I’d better check on what was happening with her. I snatched a bottle of water from the fridge and rushed to Jasmine, only to find her lying on the floor, her cheek to the cool tiles, lashes fanned out on her cheek. She was white as chalk.
My heart gave a jolt, and I crouched next to her, placed my hand on her forehead. She was clammy and cool.
“Jasmine, what’s wrong? What can I do to help?...Say something!”
“Reuben.” Her voice was faint. “Pills. My purse. For the nausea.”
I almost ran to get her purse. She’d dropped it in the hall. Fumbling with the clasps, I managed to open it, mind spinning.
She was on medication? Why would she drive all the way here in her condition?
Sifting through the neatly organized purse, I retrieved the small bottle of pills and went to throw down her bag, but paused.
Was that a pregnancy test?
With a glance towards the guest bedroom, I seized the kit and examined it. It indicated a positive result for pregnancy.
My head spun, and I felt light-headed.
What the fuck!
How could Jasmine be pregnant?! We hadn’t even had sex yet.
Maybe Jasmine was having another man’s baby. It wasn’t impossible. Once shifters found their mates it was impossible for us to cheat, but Jasmine was half-human. It wouldn’t go against her very nature, like it would for me, to be with someone else.
Rage reddened my vision and the test kit snapped into two.
But something at the back of my mind pricked at me, insisting there was a way our mate could be pregnant with our baby. Think, my bear entreated me. What did her scent tell you?
If Jasmine was intimate with any other man in these past three months, then her scent would have informed me.
But I sensed no other male on her. I shoved impatient hands through my hair, not knowing what to think. We were due for a heartfelt talk. I had questions for her, and so, I imagined, did she for me.
I returned to Jasmine, who gulped down the pill with the water. My hungry eyes ran over her beloved face. It fed my soul to gaze at her, to be near Jasmine. But I couldn’t deny that she appeared peaked. Dark, sunken valleys circled her eyes and her frame showed a not-insubstantial loss of weight.
Why hadn’t I noticed before? It was possible I was too busy with my head up my ass to spot her fatigue.
Something is wrong with our mate. My bear paced, concerned as well.
My heart clenched with worry. “You look pretty bad. Do you want to lie down?”
Jasmine was possibly pregnant with my child. It was bad enough that I was such a wuss that she had to come chasing after me. But she wasn’t doing well and needed me to be strong.
Time to step up, Reuben. No more hiding behind what happened. My bear agreed.
“What time is it?” Her voice was weak.
I glanced at my phone. “About seven.”
She grimaced and sat up, wobbling and pale. “I need to get going. I have a reservation at the Clearwater inn.”
“You look like death warmed over. No way I’m letting you drive in this condition!” She’d probably crash somewhere on the way there. Besides, my heart twinged at the thought of her leaving.
Jasmine side-glanced at me but said nothing. Maybe she agreed with my assessment.
“Please stay, at least for the night. I’ll be sick with worry about you otherwise. You can have this room. Everything you need is in here. We can talk in the morning, once you feel better,” I added as an incentive.
Jasmine gave a weary sigh. “Okay, but I’m going to bed now. The exhaustion is hitting me.”
“Are you sure you’re not hungry? You haven’t eaten dinner, and you just threw up whatever was in your stomach.”
“Anything I eat now won’t stay down. Sometimes I wake up hungry at midnight and forage in the kitchen.” She stood, looking beat, as if not aware what she was saying.
“It’s okay, I’ll have something for you when you wake. Rest now.” Before I closed the door, I saw her pulling off her top and skirt, leaving a lacy peach bra and panties set covering her much thinner body before she slid between the bedsheets and switched off the light.
I retreated to my office and called my cousin. Easton was a witch and lived a few towns away.
“Hey Reuben. How are you? I’m surprised to hear from you.”
“I’m doing okay, man. Been thinking of the thing you told me about.”
Easton hailed from my mom’s side of the family, although we weren’t blood-relatives; he was adopted. He called me after the incident and offered to perform a spell to cure the physical damage. At that time, I wasn’t in the mood for visitors, so I was terse and unreceptive. But now I was considering his offer.
“About that spell I told you my coven can do? Yeah, like I said, I don’t have experience with it myself, but other witches have performed it with great success. Scars of victims of fires, hexes and even of domestic violence — gone just like that.”
“Yeah, the reason I called is to find out if I can go ahead with that.”
There was a pause. “That’s quite a turn around.”
I leaned back in my seat. “I…found my mate. She hasn’t said anything negative about my appearance but still...I’d like to consider doing the spell.”
Easton sounded happy for me. “Congratulations, man! You’re one of the lucky ones. God knows I wish I had a chance at finding my mate. Totally understandable that you’d want to be at your best for her.”
We set up a date and time for Easton to visit me and ended the call.
If I was idle, I knew I would fret about the positive pregnancy test I’d found. Feeling restless, I switched on my computer, and worked on my invoices, sending them out to a couple of clients.
Unable to help myself, I also Googled ‘Virgin pregnancy without intercourse’. The results were interesting to say the least. Turned out a lot of people had the same query. On multiple respected websites, doctors and experts confirmed that if a finger or another object, such as a dildo, got covered with semen and entered the vagina, then pregnancy was possible, even if the female was technically a virgin.
What did you know?!
I rubbed a shaking hand over my face. Of course, I couldn’t be sure of anything before speaking with Jasmine, but…was it possible I was going to be a dad? My head spun.
When it was about eleven o’ clock, I jumped up. Jasmine would wake up at midnight, hungry.
I needed to feed my mate.
Chapter 8
Jasmine
Not caring if Reuben saw me in my underclothes or not, I undressed and fell into the bed, feeling dizzy and weak.
The bedclothes were so soft. I let out a sigh of enjoyment. I’d made such a mess of everything. The plan was to walk in, share the facts with Reuben, inform him it was his choice to be in the baby’s life and I needed nothing from him, then sweep out majestically.
Instead, I found a damaged man licking his wounds.
And then what did I do? Instead of allaying his fears or even sharing my news, I fell apart. He spotted me puking my guts out, lying on the floor near the toilet, wishing I were dead. Not exactly a turn-on for any man.
To be honest, I was barely able to string two coherent thoughts together. I’d been having these random moments when I was exhausted and just had to take a nap. Even reading a magazine was too much at these times.
Now was such a moment. I dozed off. My cell phone rang and in a haze, I picked it up. It was Max.
“…did it go well?”
“Sick. Sleeping. Took pill,” I managed to whisper. “Talk Reuben tomorrow.”
Max’s worried voice said something. I caught “…need me to come down?”
Beyond that I didn’t recall anything. My phone slid down to the carpet, and I slept.
*
It was still dark when I woke up, craving doughnuts with cheese. I sat up and as I did, there was a knock.
“Come in,” I murmured. My voice was raspy with sleep, pushing my heavy hair from my face. The light switched on. Reuben looked in and held out my overnight bag. He must have gotten it from the car.
“It’s midnight, and I thought you might like something to eat. Pull on something and come to the kitchen.”
He vanished. I cleaned up and then pulled on my pajamas and rushed to the kitchen, stomach rumbling.
“Mmm. Something smells good.” The kitchen had high ceilings, shiny white surfaces everywhere, an accent wall made of reclaimed wood. Recessed and pendant lights over the white granite island at the center of the kitchen left shadows at the edges. One wall was covered with storage cabinets, and at the side, a small door led to the pantry, I assumed. At the far end, Reuben stood at the stove, stirring something on a pan.
I sat on a stool at the island. Cheek on hand, I admired Reuben’s broad back, the clean masculine lines, his tight butt in the well-worn and close-fitting jeans. Barefoot, he wore a plain navy-blue T-shirt that hugged his biceps. I could get used to Reuben cooking for me.
“Don’t move a muscle. Here, drink this.” He placed a cup of hot chocolate on the island and stepped away.
Not wanting to stay in my line of sight, maybe? That wouldn’t do at all.
Still, I sipped the hot chocolate with a tiny inner glow that he remembered my favorite nightly drink. I brushed a finger over the handle of my mug. It had a picture of a snowman on it. “Thanks, I needed that. Your home is lovely, just as you described.”
The house was elegant, and calming, but I had no eyes for anything other than my Reuben. Just being around him soothed my soul. His solid presence eased my worries, and somehow, I knew that the baby and I were right where we belonged.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like the place. Most of the decorating was done by my mom,
although I’ve added a few of my own touches here and there. But more importantly,” he switched topics, returning to what he clearly considered the more important matter, “you must be hungry. Are you okay with a late dinner? Or would you like something else? A snack maybe?” Reuben looked absolutely determined to get me whatever I asked for
I smiled. “A late dinner would be great. I’m starving! I haven’t eaten all day.”
He stopped arranging food on the plate for me and frowned. “Why not? You shouldn’t be neglecting yourself like that.”
I might as well tell him the truth. After all, I’d come all this way to share the news he was going to be a daddy. “Morning sickness,” I said. “I throw up all day and get famished at night. Get weird cravings, too.” There, I’d thrown it all out. What would he do?
Reuben went completely still. His face was in the shadows, so I couldn’t see if was shocked or not. “You’re pregnant?” His tone was curious, but not incredulous or disbelieving like I’d expected.
I hurried to explain. “Yeah. My doctor explained it to me. Apparently, if a man ejaculates near a woman’s vagina, then pregnancy is possible, even if she’s a virgin. The chances are low, but it is possible.” I flushed and added, “And I think that night, if you remember, even though we didn’t do the deed, we did play around, and we didn’t use protection…”
Reuben’s eyes heated and roved over me as if imagining me the way I was in his hotel room, naked and coming on his hand.
“So, you’re going to be a dad now.” I bent and fussed at my shorts, peeked through my lashes. “That’s what I came to tell you.”
A grin flashed across Reuben’s handsome face. His eyes shone, and he stepped forward as if he could barely contain himself. He stood taller and radiated excitement, joy. “You’re pregnant with my...our cub?
“I am.”
