Zoë managed a smile. “I’m good.”
“Are you ready to order?” Lily asked Chad.
“I’ll have a tuna burger, rare, with an arugula salad on the side.”
“Not in here you won’t, mister. You can have a burger. Medium-well. Like the Board of Health regs say. And a mixed salad.”
Chad flushed. His lips tightened. “Very well.”
Lily was enjoying herself. “Dressing?”
“Balsamic vinaigrette.”
“You can have Italian, or ranch.”
“Italian.”
“Sure thing.” Lily marched away.
“Chad,” Zoë said with a patience she was far from feeling. “What did you expect to accomplish today?”
More to the point, how had he found her? It was not as though she and Mitchell had told anyone except Aunt Ursula they were going to West Haven. And Mitchell’s mom.
By now Aunt Ursula and Sheila could have told any number of folks back in Luck Harbor. But Chadwick Ellery Trafford III wasn’t on their phone lists.
Chad squared his shoulders and smiled his best smile. She felt another pulse of something shimmering in the air. His attempt at manipulation created a violent wave of nausea. No surprise there.
As if he hadn’t noticed her revulsion, he leaned forward confidentially. The picture of a man concluding negotiations with an irresistible offer.
Lily’s arm interposed itself with the coffeepot. “Refill?” She topped up Chad’s cup.
Zoë smiled at the older woman and received a wink. “More?”
“Yes, please.” Zoë modeled good manners for an indignant Chad.
“Can’t we go somewhere else?” he demanded as soon as Lily had walked away. “We have no privacy here.”
Zoë waved a casual hand at her phone. “I can’t. I’m engaged in some research. And you are laboring under a misapprehension if you believe that you have anything to say to me that requires privacy.”
“If you’ve decided you prefer brawn over brains, for a big enough donation, I might be persuaded to leave your fiancé in ignorance,” he drawled softly.
Something beat unpleasantly at her senses. “I’ll tell you free of charge that you should just go back to Olympia,” she returned.
Lily shoved a plate with a hamburger, fries, and a limp salad in front of Chad. She placed a basket of condiments beside it.
“I didn’t order fries,” Chad said.
“Comes with it.” Lily walked to the next table and began clearing plates and wiping up spills.
“What’s wrong with her?” groused Chad. He lifted his bun and gazed in horror at the mound of ketchup. “Waitress!”
“Our server’s name is Lily,” Zoë told him. “If you’re hungry, eat. Because there’s not much time before the next ferry.”
Chad scraped ketchup onto the side of his plate and fixed his soulful green eyes on her. “Do you really want me to have a word with Reynolds?” he purred.
“Any number of ‘em,” she said cheerfully as the bells on the door tinkled.
Mitchell and Anton strolled in. The mist had made their hair curl more than usual. After last night’s swim in bear, Mitch needed a haircut. He ignored Chad’s presence at the table and bent to kiss her. It wasn’t a casual kiss of greeting, but a brand of possession.
He peeled off his coat and glared at Trafford. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled. “I thought I told you to stay the hell away from my fiancée?”
“Last chance, Zoë,” Chad murmured.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Mitchell~
Was that toe-rag actually threatening his mate within his hearing? Was it money or genetics that made this jackass dare to pull a bear’s nose? Sounded like Three was trying to blackmail Zoë. And she was letting him.
Lily had made a frantic call to Anton, who had passed her message onto Mitchell. Although it hadn’t been clear whether Lily had been warning them that Zoë was in danger of succumbing to Trafford’s nonsense, or in peril.
He was uncomfortably aware that Zoë’s simmering unhappiness with his dream home would make what Trafford had on offer more alluring. But she didn’t have to look so happy.
Trafford cleared his throat. “You don’t belong with this ruffian,” he said persuasively. Something foul shimmered in the air.
That did it. Red mist obscured his vision, but he could still find Trafford’s collar if he needed it.
“You need any help, buddy?” Anton hadn’t bothered to sit down.
“Nah. I’ve got this. Lunch is over, Trafford.” Mitch stood and grabbed Three’s arm.
“I could hold your coat,” Anton said hopefully.
“Since you’re burning to be useful, Benoit, you can bring Trafford’s jacket.” Mitchell hustled Zoë’s ex out the door. “Don’t want to get blood on the floor,” he explained.
Anton looked up and down the street which was thronged with the usual folks doing their shopping and visiting the Bean and Bran. Not that the fog rolling in gave him a great view.
“If you really want to take this guy apart, we’d probably be best off down by the harbor, Reynolds.”
Trafford wriggled in Mitchell’s grasp. “Unhand me,” he hissed through his teeth.
“This,” Mitchell said, giving Three a little shake, “Is Chadwick Ellery Trafford III. He’s been stalking Zoë.” He let him drop. Trafford sprawled on the sidewalk.
Anton examined him as if he were a new kind of bug. “Ferry leaves in half an hour,” he remarked. “Sheriff Babcock frowns on stalkers. What do you say we send this one back where he came from?”
“Can’t do that,” Mitchell explained regretfully. “I promised Zoë I’d polish my medals with him. Or rip his liver out. I forget which.”
“Man’s gotta keep his promises,” Anton said cheerfully. “But I gotta ask, Reynolds, did you actually bring your medals to town? I’d say liver ripping is your only option this afternoon.”
Trafford struggled to his feet. He wasn’t ungraceful, it was just not a situation in which grace helped. “Touch me and you’ll rot in jail.”
“Does he always talk like that?” Anton tossed Three his coat. Trafford stretched out an arm for it and missed. It fell to the damp sidewalk. He stooped to retrieve it.
“Don’t know.” Mitchell shrugged. “We haven’t had a long acquaintance. Plus, a pair of ruffians like us probably don’t appreciate Three’s slick diction.”
“He can give us elocution lessons down by the harbor,” Anton said genially. “While you pull out his liver and make kebabs.”
Trafford pulled himself to his feet. He slipped on his coat and squared his shoulders. His face was a mask of fury. Even the highlights in his hair glittered vengefully.
“You’ll regret this.” He did not seem to notice that they had collected an audience.
A small man in a khaki uniform strode out of the mist. He was followed by a huge mountain of a sailor in dripping oilskins. “What seems to be the trouble here?” Khaki Uniform asked.
“Feels like black magic to me, Wally,” the mountain remarked.
“I don’t care for the sound of that,” returned Wally sternly. “That’s clean against the rules.”
“Hey, Sully, how’s it going?” asked Anton gleefully. “How’re you doing, Sheriff?”
“These men have been threatening me.” Trafford brushed down his sleeves.
“For a fact?” Sheriff Babcock shook his head. “Have you been uttering threats, Anton?”
Anton’s large face screwed up in thought. He shook his head. “I think I told Trafford here that the ferry leaves in half an hour.”
“Twenty minutes,” Walter corrected in the manner of a man who likes to keep the facts straight.
“Not him,” said Trafford indignantly. “Reynolds.”
Walter Babcock held out his hand to Mitchell. “Glad to meet you at last, Capt. Reynolds.” They shook. “You been threatening this here magician?”
“I promised to use him to clean
my silver,” Mitchell said apologetically.
“About all he’s good for,” growled Deputy Mayor Sullivan. “But frankly, Reynolds, you’d be better off not letting this little wizard near your honors.”
Mitchell could see that Trafford had suddenly realized his error. He was the stranger here. Mitchell was among friends.
“Deputy Mayor,” Mitchell said piously, “This fellow has been setting spells on my fiancée. Stalking her. Trying to come between us. Spreading lies,” he added for good measure.
Trafford swallowed. “No such thing as magic,” he croaked.
Sully laughed. “You’re in precisely the wrong place to say that, Mr. Trafford. This is Mystic Bay, and I am the head mage. I suggest that you find yourself on the next ferry and that Reynolds forgoes his desire to beat you to a pulp. He’s getting married on Saturday and needs to look nice for the photographs.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Cabin
Zoë~
Ever since they had left Mystic Bay, Mitchell had been in a filthy mood. He didn’t even care that she had arranged local internet service for both of them. He was still pissed about Chad. Yet he had obstinately rebuffed her attempts to discuss the matter. His attitude was infuriating. Beyond infuriating.
Besides she wanted to know what had happened outside between Mitchell and Chad. Mitch didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. But he could have whipped Chad’s gym-bunny ass without mussing his hair. Even if Anton hadn’t been along.
“Can we talk?” she asked as soon as she had put the perishables away.
Mitchell had his toolbox in one hand. “I have to get that window installed,” he announced curtly.
“It can wait. You can make a mess later.”
“You’re the one complaining about the draft in the bathroom.” He showed her his teeth. “I need to get started while there’s still some daylight.”
She kept her voice even with an effort. “We need to discuss Chad.”
“Why? Was he plausible enough after all?” Mitchell barked.
“You’re jealous!”
He plunked his toolbox on the floor and stood over her, hands on hips, face wrathful. “Damn straight, I’m jealous. I don’t like finding my woman chitchatting with a plausible rogue.”
“Didn’t Anton say he was some kind of wizard?” she soothed.
Mitchell’s face got harder. So did his voice. “Yup. A fricking wizard trying to bespell you. Want to tell me why you didn’t haul your sweet she-bear ass out of the Wheelhouse and leave him and his plausibility sitting on their own?”
“Because I was mid-session trying to get us hooked up with the local internet company,” she defended herself. “You know how hard it is to get a connection. I was damned if I was going to start from scratch because of Chad.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Why did I have to hear he was in town from Lily?”
“I knew you were on your way. Besides, you dealt with him before he could tell all of Mystic Bay that my baby is his. I apologize if I embarrassed you in front of our new friends.”
He seized her shoulders. His fingers bit in. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that she couldn’t move. “Fuck embarrassing me. Want to explain just how Three knew about the kid?”
“I have no idea. He just showed up. It’s not as if I called him.”
“You sure? Maybe the governor’s mansion looks better than this shanty?”
“No.” She was very sure. “I’d rather live in a shanty with a cranky bear than in the governor’s mansion with a two-bit con man.”
His hands softened and drew her closer. “It won’t always be a dump,” he said.
“I know. Why do you think I haven’t taken off to the Tidewater Inn or one of the many B&Bs with which this island is so plentifully supplied?” It was true. Mystic Bay was chock full of places to stay. All boasting electricity and hot water.
“Huh.”
“I’m here because I want to be. And because I’m grateful to you. Chad showing up only means I am even more aware that our engagement is all that stands between me and Uncle Bruce loading his shotgun.”
“For the last time, I don’t want your fricking gratitude, Zoë.”
“Too bad,” she shouted. “You have it anyway. I appreciate that you’ve stepped up to help out Griff’s little sister.”
“Let’s leave Griff out of this,” he gritted.
“How can we? If it wasn’t for Griff we wouldn’t be getting married.”
His mouth crashed down on hers. As always, the sizzle between them turned into a raging conflagration. She had always felt as if her sexual appetites were too big. But with Mitchell they seemed to be exactly the right size and weight.
She fought him for control of the fierce kiss. Which wasn’t easy when her feet were dangling off the ground. She wrapped both legs around his hips and hung on so she could fight on more or less equal ground.
His tongue scoured her mouth, tasting every corner. Her anger melted under the onslaught of his passion. He wasn’t faking it. She could smell his arousal like the sexiest perfume in the world. She could taste the testosterone and bear hormones fueling his passion.
Of their own volition her fingers began to unbutton his shirt so she could play with his chest hair. He responded by tilting her head so he could taste the furthest reaches of her mouth.
“This has nothing to do with Griff,” he growled. “We have nothing to do with Griff.”
He planted stinging little kisses all along her jawline to her ear, sought out the tender place behind it and licked it. She felt the little caress all the way to her pussy. Her legs tightened so she could grind her clit into his hardness.
“Did you feel this with Three?” Mitchell asked ferociously. He punctuated his words with sensual nips. “Did he get you hot in a hurry? Are you missing that plausible bastard?”
“Actually, no.” Her fury had died in the fires of their passion. It was always like this. As soon as he touched her, she forgot her resentment. Forgot how little she liked living in a dirty cold-water shack. Thought only of her hard-bodied bear. “But I thought you didn’t like threesomes.”
He set her down. “I don’t. But I have to know. Are you still in love with Trafford?”
“I’m not sure I ever was. Maybe he bespelled me? That might explain why I was infatuated for a while last summer. But I was over that before you came home.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You have nothing to be jealous of. Chad has nothing I want. What about you? Are you still satisfied with our convenient arrangement?”
“Hell, no.”
His words struck her like a blow. She literally staggered. Her heart was breaking. Her vision blurred on the edges like a movie fading to black.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Mitchell~
He caught her before she hit the floor. Walked over to the couch with her in his arms. “Zoë, stop it.”
Her eyes opened. “You don’t want to marry me?”
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want it to be a convenient arrangement.”
“Oh.” She struggled to sit up. He let her get her head level with his shoulder, but kept her on his lap where she belonged. “What do you want?”
“You. Me. Us.”
“I don’t understand,” she said carefully. “Is this about Chad?”
“Screw Chad.”
“Never again.” She rubbed her bump. “Are you going to tell me what happened between you guys today?”
He shrugged. “Nothing to tell. I fully intended to rip out his liver, as per my earlier promise, but Sheriff Babcock and the deputy mayor thwarted my very reasonable ambitions. They escorted old Three to the ferry and suggested that he depart forthwith and not return.”
Her elbow hit his stomach and her head collided with his chin. “Are you trying to make me believe, Chad just tamely decided to hop on the ferry? Come on, he’s a lawyer who stands on his rights twenty-four-seven.”
“I believe t
hat he was also moved by the wise words of Gordon Sullivan. And his resolve may have been further weakened by the size of the ticket Sheriff Babcock wrote out for littering.”
“Littering?”
“Left his keys on the sidewalk.” Mitchell clucked his tongue. “Untidy. Sets a bad example. Littering is strictly forbidden by Mystic Bay ordinances.”
“Uh huh.” Zoë sounded even more skeptical.
He folded his arms across his broad chest. His biceps bulged. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“Did he blab our secret? Will he be back?”
“I’d say no and no.” Mitchell’s dimple flashed. “He didn’t get much chance to spread his story. Besides, I already knew about the baby. Deputy Mayor Sullivan explained that if Three ever again sets foot on the island he will find his paranormal sensitivities reduced to zero. And that in addition he’s been disbarred.”
“Chad really has paranormal sensitivities? Anton wasn’t making that up?” she asked.
Mitchell nodded. “Sully says Trafford is a low-grade sorcerer.” He cleared his throat. “Called him a wizard. Twice. Which I understand is a deadly insult on West Haven.”
“Is it? I’ll have to remember that. Do you think that’s how Chad fooled me?”
“Probably. I wouldn’t put anything past that lowlife.”
“It would explain why I didn’t notice how sleazy he was for months. Did he use sorcery to track us down?”
Mitchell shook his head. “Don’t know. Anton thinks he probably did it the old-fashioned way – by tracing your credit cards. That’ll teach you to go on a spending spree.”
“I have bought quite a lot of stuff in Mystic Bay,” she said meditatively. “Not to mention those three pregnancy testing kits I purchased online. But isn’t tracking my credit cards illegal?”
“Just a bit. Anton said he’d see if we could get him charged. But unless Trafford actually stole your identity, or your money, it’s hard to prove malfeasance.”
“Malfeasance?”
“Breaking the law,” he murmured helpfully.
She smacked his arm. “I know what malfeasance means. I just don’t see Chad leaving himself vulnerable to being charged with cybercrime.” She sighed elaborately. “I guess getting him disbarred was an empty threat?”
Bedded by the Bear: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 6) Page 16
