by Sammie Joyce
“It’s Charlie,” Matt replied and I grumbled again.
“Charlie. Any idea where this Charlie lives? Or works?”
“I only know what I told you,” Matt retorted, sounding annoyed that I was giving him a hard time. “I could have kept it to myself.”
Instantly, I was contrite.
“No, no, you’re right,” I said quickly. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll ask around and see if I can’t find out more about him.”
“He has a lethal following but according to Brett, this Charlie seemed to be calling the shots.”
“How does Brett know?” I asked, my eyes darting toward the window to look for the crewmen outside but dusk was making their shapes impersonal.
“His cousin was attacked last week.”
“Right,” I muttered. “I’d forgotten about Claudio. How’s he doing?”
“He got shot in the shoulder with a silver bullet. These animals aren’t joking around,” Matt said seriously. “If the bullet had been two inches lower, Claud would have been dead by now.”
I shuddered at the thought. Anticlaw was undoubtedly becoming more dangerous and we would need to keep our eyes open. I wondered, how much could I really do with a first name?
Still, I vowed to honor my promise and ask around.
“When are you leaving?” Matt asked, sounding eager to change the subject.
“Tomorrow night,” I replied. “Keep your phone on.”
Matt chuckled.
“Only if you turn yours off,” he replied lightly. I flashed him a grin and rose from my spot off the cushions.
“Heading out already?” Matt asked.
“Yep. I have packing to do.”
As I left Matt’s job site, I realized that my heart was beating more quickly than usual and I knew it had everything to do with what was upcoming for me and Vivian on our weekend getaway.
It would be good to forget about Anticlaw and being a shifter, if only for a couple days. I had never been apart from the pack for that long and it was high time I spread my wings.
Even if Vivian and I couldn’t ever work.
I almost laughed aloud at the thought as I climbed into my car. I was already in love with the woman. Vivian wasn’t going anywhere and neither was I.
8
Vivian
I should have been exhausted after my double shift but when I finally got home that morning, I was wide awake. I was far too excited about my impromptu weekend with Marcel to think about anything as boring as sleep.
I packed and repacked a bag, knowing that I would only be gone for a couple nights but like I had for our date, I couldn’t help but wonder if everything I owned was inappropriate.
I kept in mind that the weather was going to be cold, especially up in the mountain air but I wanted to ensure I had clothes that would be becoming. No flannel PJs for me but I couldn’t exactly bring a negligee along…could I?
I thought about calling someone for advice but quickly dismissed the idea. I didn’t have many close girlfriends outside of work and I knew that no matter who I called, I’d be bombarded with well meaning questions about my weekend date. The problem was, I wasn’t sure how to answer any of them.
On some level, I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. We weren’t breaching any ethical boundaries, but still, I couldn’t shake the whisper of guilt that seemed to stalk me, like my subconscious knew something that I didn’t know yet.
In any case, it was better to keep things quiet for the time being. I reasoned that broadcasting a new romance would be cursing it and since Marcel and I had never really had a conversation about where things were going, I didn’t want to assume anything.
I finished packing and when my suitcase was by the front door, my cell chimed. The sound made me jump in surprise. I hadn’t realized how quiet it had become.
We still on for tonight?
I smiled. At least he wasn’t canceling on me.
We sure are. I’ll pick you up around six?
I saw the message bubbles but they stopped and I frowned as I waited. It took another minute before he finally started typing again.
Is he changing his mind? Does he not want to do this?
Apprehension shot through me as I waited with bated breath for his response.
I’ll text you the address when you’re ready to leave.
Relief surged through me and I suddenly realized I was very tired. I had, after all, worked almost sixteen straight hours and the night had been moderately busy.
Perfect. I can’t wait.
Besides wine, what can I bring? He asked
I thought for a moment, doing a mental calculation of what would be up at the cabin. It had been a while since I’d been there. Charlie would go up with my dad on hunting trips while Mom and I preferred our urban living but from what I remembered, it had always been fully stocked. We could hit the grocery store on the way up and worse case scenario, return to town for supplies in the morning.
Just yourself.
That was more than enough for me.
He responded with a smiley emoji and I hurried to the bathroom to shower before laying down. As I washed the long night off my body, I closed my eyes, envisioning Marcel in the shower with me. I had no illusions about what this weekend was going to bring. I had invited him with one thought in mind and he had undoubtedly agreed with the same ideas in his head.
The thought of being with Marcel didn’t make me as nervous as I thought it would. In my mind’s eye, I could see him, staring at me with those intense, shimmering eyes that seemed to read into my soul. The mere image of him in my head made my heart pound and as the water cascaded down my naked body, I let my hands slide over my slippery skin, pretending they were Marcel’s.
Gooseflesh erupted over me and I sighed, knowing that when we were together again, I would be more than ready for him.
I hadn’t been brave enough to steal that kiss from him on our date even though I was sure he wouldn’t have fought me if I’d tried. We’d come close a couple times but in the end, he had only walked me to my car and promised to take me out again.
It had been a long week of waiting on him to ask me out again and honestly, I was beginning to get a complex. I’d given him a bunch of opportunities to do it but somehow, he seemed to be resisting. Asking him to the cottage had been sudden and impulsive but I was glad I’d done it. If he’d refused, I would have known where he stood but he had agreed as I’d knew he would.
Sighing heavily, I reluctantly opened my eyes as the water turned colder and switched off the tap. I needed to preserve my energy for the days to come.
* * *
I didn’t sleep very well, despite my exhaustion. I had this nagging fear that I would miss the alarm I’d set to wake me in time to be ready.
At three, I finally rose from bed and hurried to dress in a pair of velour-lined leggings and a cable-knit white sweater. The color brought out my dark hair and eyes and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I was slightly surprised that I looked so good. There was no trace of sleepiness anywhere on my face and I didn’t feel tired in the least.
No, I was pumped to see this weekend through.
I texted Marcel that I was gearing up to go and he messaged me his address. It was slightly out of the way from where we were headed but I didn’t mind. It was easier for me to drive up there. The cottage wouldn’t be on any GPS and explaining how to get there would just end up in catastrophe.
Loading up the car, I locked the door, ensuring to leave lights on in my absence, even though there was no real threat of crime in Bend. No, I had a better chance of being attacked by a shifter than I did having my apartment broken into. Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. If anyone tried to come up through the balcony, they would think twice about hitting a lit unit.
Is that what you’re doing, heading up into the mountains with a guy you just met? That irritating little voice in my head jeered. Being cautious?
I ignored it and threw my phone onto the dash, Marcel’s address typ
ed into the GPS. In less than a minute, I was on my way, not bothering to wait for the car to warm up.
To my surprise, Marcel was sitting on the stoop, waiting for me when I arrived. The weather was not quite bitter but he would have been much warmer inside.
I idly wondered if he had done that to ensure I wouldn’t see the inside of his house.
“Ready to go?” he asked brightly, striding toward me. Once again, I was struck by his handsomeness and I could do little else but nod, swallowing my newfound nervousness. He had such a strange, tantalizing affect on me even though I felt so comfortable in his presence.
Nervously comfortable. Is that a thing?
He dropped his duffle bag into the trunk and hurried around to the passenger side of my car to let himself in.
“We should hit the grocery store for a few things. If there is any food up there, I doubt we want to touch it,” I joked. “I have no idea when anyone was up there last.”
“That’s right. You said that your parents are in Florida now, right?”
I cast him a sidelong look and smiled. He’d been listening to me. That was refreshing.
“My brother has access to the cabin too but I doubt he gets out there much. He lives slightly off grid as it is and the place was more my dad’s pride and joy than anything.”
I backed out of Marcel’s driveway, missing the half worried look he shot me.
“You sure he won’t just pop in on us?”
I glanced at him.
“Is ninety percent sure good enough?”
He laughed and shrugged.
“I’m okay with those odds,” he agreed. We were silent for a couple minutes until I pulled into the Safeway parking lot. We jumped out together and walked toward the entranceway, our arms touching. I wanted to reach for his hand but stopped myself.
I’ll wait until we’re alone, I thought, casting him another look through my peripheral vision. I could tell he was trying not to stare openly at me too.
“What do we need?” he asked, reaching for a cart.
“What do you like to eat?” I replied. “There’s a stove, a fridge, a freezer. Anything we get won’t go bad and I’m pretty good in the kitchen.”
“Me too,” Marcel said. I was mildly surprised and he chuckled at my expression.
“I’m a thirty-year-old bachelor,” he reminded her. “I better know how to cook.”
“And they say us millennials can’t do anything for ourselves,” I giggled. “Look at us, shopping and cooking, like a couple of boomers.”
“Okay boomer,” Marcel joked and I laughed again. Without thinking, I linked my arm through his but he didn’t pull away. I could feel the ripple of his muscles through his jacket and the sensation made heat sweep through my body. I started to feel like I was floating beside him, not walking.
Marcel chattered as we wandered through the aisles, grabbing snacks and produce for meals. Neither one of us really had a meal plan in mind but by the time we got to the cash register, our cart was almost full.
“I hope this is enough for two days,” Marcel sighed. I tittered, reaching for my purse but he stopped me.
“Let me get this,” he insisted. “You’re providing accommodations.”
“You’re providing the wine…” I trailed off. “You did bring wine, didn’t you?”
“What did you think was in my duffle? Clothes?”
I swatted at him playfully and watched as he pulled out a gold Visa, handing it to the cashier. I couldn’t help but notice the way the middle-aged woman made eyes at Marcel, not that I blamed her.
Still, I felt the same twinge of jealousy I’d felt when Lucy had commented on him.
You need to get it together. He’s not your property nor anyone else’s.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from feeling possessive of him. I wondered if these feelings were going to get worse over time.
Assuming that there’s an “over time.” Who knows what might happen this weekend?
Round and round I was going in my own head, second-guessing and then succumbing, doubting and relenting. I wished I could just make up my own mind. It wasn’t like me to be so indecisive. I needed to act like the calm, cool and collected nurse that I was, not some jealous schoolgirl, trying to figure out how her crush felt about her.
Because it was obvious how Marcel felt about me. It was written all over his face when he stared at me.
Like in that moment.
“Uh…you ready?” he asked. I blinked and saw that I was holding up the line while I wrestled with my thoughts.
“Yes! Yes,” I mumbled, shuffling forward to help him with the reusable bags I’d brought in from my car.
Yes. I was definitely ready.
9
Vivian
Mount Bachelor was only fifteen minutes away from the Safeway but the cabin was nestled away deeper up the backroads and it was half an hour before we were in front of the little house that Charlie had loved so much as a child. I often thought that he had gone into the military because of his love for the wilderness. I think he’s always had a much different perspective of what was really happening out there in the world.
“This is great!” Marcel said enthusiastically as we stepped onto the pine laden ground. Snow had fallen earlier in the week but it all seemed to be melting away like springtime. But that was the weather in those parts—if you didn’t like it, you just needed to wait five minutes.
I tried looking at the cabin through Marcel’s eyes. It was certainly rustic yet charming with its dark paneled outer walls and square windows. I found myself admiring it for the first time in years.
“Let me get that,” Marcel offered, taking my lone suitcase from my hands. I allowed him to grab it and twirled my keyring until I found the barely used cabin key. It opened the door without incident. I was relieved to see that there was still electricity when I flipped on a lamp near the window but it was clear that no one had been up there in a long time. There was an inch of dust on everything and spiders had made their homes comfortably on the furniture and light fixtures.
If Marcel noticed the mess, he didn’t comment, his eyes still taking in the three roomed cabin.
“This is a lot bigger than I expected,” he remarked, his eyes darting up toward the loft which held the bedroom and bathroom. “When you said cabin, I had ice fishing in mind.”
I snorted.
“I don’t think I could endure a night in an ice fishing shack,” I assured him, making my way to the kitchen where Marcel had set down the bags of groceries. I busied myself plugging in appliances and putting things away but I was vividly aware of how close he was to me as he, too, pretended he was doing other things.
When I turned around, I was surprised as he handed me a glass of wine.
“I hope you didn’t mind me snooping,” he said lightly. “I just wanted us to have a toast.”
I licked my lips and accepted the glass.
“Mi casa es su casa,” I replied but as I said the words, my pulse began to race. Suddenly it was all very real, him, me, the cabin, our solitude.
Marcel raised his glass.
“To new adventures,” he proposed and I smiled, tinkling my cup to his.
“To new friends,” I agreed but the words almost stuck in my throat as I melted under his intense stare.
Marcel took a long sip and set his glass down on the counter, stepping closer to me.
“Friends?” he murmured softly. “Is that what we are?”
I didn’t answer, nor did I protest when he took my glass and set it beside his before drawing me closer to him.
“You’re very beautiful, Vivian,” he breathed, his words tickling my face. The smell of his cologne and the wine was intoxicating. My body began to quiver at his nearness. Slowly, he traced the lines of my face with the tips of his fingers.
“Thank you for inviting me up here.”
I swallowed, tipping my head back to meet his gaze plaintively. I knew he was drawing this out on purpose, making me suffer
for the kiss that I’d so desperately wanted since I’d seen him in the bar. That was the first time I’d looked at him like a man, not my therapist. The anticipation had been killing me and heat surged through me as I waited.
I could have gone in for it myself but I may have been enjoying the exquisite torture of his nearness, inhaling his scent and feeling my body begin to tremble under his touch. I was glad I hadn’t finished my wine. I wanted to enjoy every moment, every second, record it to replay in my memory for days or weeks to come.
I blinked, my vision going slightly blurry and as I did, his lips brushed against mine. Instantly, my curvy frame exploded in a wave of shivers, my hands reaching up to cup his face. I drew him closer to me, our lips parting to deepen the kiss between us.
Slowly, almost without me noticing, Marcel danced me backward and I was back on the barroom floor with him, hearing the sweet, melody of the Beatles in my ears. Everything about this felt so right, so perfect.
My back hit the front of the sink and as it did, Marcel’s hands slipped down to cup my rear, pulling me onto a sitting position on the edge of the stainless steel.
I yanked him closer, feeling his hardness against me and a fresh wave of heat coursed through me. I was already euphoric and I knew we were nowhere close to getting started.
His hands slid up my waist, below my sweater and I sighed as his lips left mine to explore the curve of my neck.
More goosebumps erupted on my flesh and seamlessly, my top was slipped over my head and cast aside.
I worked on his buttons, freeing his well-formed chest from his button-down shirt too and soon, our bodies were skin-to-skin.
He felt exactly how I’d imagined he would, soft but strong, his fingers trailing lightly along the line of my spine until he found the clasp of my bra. Effortlessly, he undid it. Instantly, his warm palms were exploring my nipples and I fell back, palms splayed outward as he eagerly dropped his head to sample the taut flesh of my bosom.
Another sigh of pleasure fell from my lips and I threw my head back, the pleasure of his lips taking me higher as he worked lower.
