Runaway (Fox Ridge Shifters Book 1) Page 3

  “What are you planning on doing? Set her up at the farmhouse and keep her there all day? She’ll make your dinners and iron your shirts?”

  Luke opened his mouth to speak. Closed it.

  Hugh snorted. “Oh, Lukas, we so need to talk.”

  Luke valued women. Long before society accepted them, he’d understood their intelligence equaled any man’s. But he was over five hundred years old. He still had difficulty imagining anyone other than the demure little Eva, sweeping her front step and tending her chickens. Would Crissy care for the chickens? Could she cook? He slumped his shoulders. Did it matter?

  He watched her in the reflection of the long mirror over the bar, seeing she had gone to talk to Jonah. While she spoke with him—friendly rather than flirty—she deftly gathered up bottles and glasses, though it wasn’t her job to clean the tables. She glanced up, caught his stare, and he smiled a little. She seemed to smile back despite herself, shaking her head and looking down. Luke found Neal and Hugh smiling at her as well.

  “It will work out,” he said quietly. “She’s my mate. She’s my mate for a reason. The Design of Fate.”

  “The magic doesn’t always work out,” Neal said. “Sometimes Fate puts people together for her own reasons. To make something happen, not to make people happy.”

  “It didn’t work out when I lost Eva. There was no sense in it. Nothing learned. Nothing gained for anybody.”

  “It ended the war,” Neal said.

  “The war ended because my parents were killed and you couldn’t go on without them.”

  “No, Luke.” Neal focused his frank gaze fully upon Luke. “I ended the war for two reasons. First, because half our people were already dead and we were in danger of annihilation and, second, because you were going Berserker and would have been killed if you had any excuse to fight on. I ended the war because I couldn’t go on without you.”

  “I was just a kid,” Luke said.

  “I practically raised you. You were like a son to me.”

  Neither said anything until Hugh said, “Aw, ain’t that sweet.”

  Luke picked up his bottle of ale and took a sip. “About as sweet as that pink sock monkey your beast carries around.”

  Hugh’s head swiveled. “Dammit, someone could hear you,” he hissed. “You swore you wouldn’t discuss that.”

  “I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone else. I would never swear not to tease you about it.”

  “I can’t control it.” He dropped his voice even lower. “My beast misses his troop.”

  “His beast needs a mate too,” Neal said.

  “I’d like kids,” Luke said. “Lots of them.”

  “Poor Crissy doesn’t know what she’s in for,” Hugh said. “Bet you’re already planning your honeymoon.”

  “Hawaii,” Luke said immediately. “Someplace warm. Take her away from the cold winter.”

  Hugh and Neal laughed. “For the past two hours you’ve been redecorating the farmhouse, designing a nursery, and planning your wedding,” Hugh said. “You expect to be married before spring?”

  “Of course. She’s my mate.” He eyed Crissy as she approached. “And I’m not letting this one get away.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  A freaking cord already stretched between her chest and the chest of the bear shifter with the googly eyes. Not the sickly yellow orange of obsession, or the warm pink of romantic love, it shone dark blue, almost indigo. She’d never seen that shade of blue in the magical realm before.

  She recognized what they were the moment they walked in. A bear, a horse, and a gorilla each hovered over the man they paired with. She had never seen so many shifters in her life before coming to Northern California. One every few years, maybe. Here, there was Bobby, the guy at the gas station, and these three.

  She would have to deal with the big bear named Luke, discourage him, and send him on his way. With her life on the run, the possibility of death at any time, it would be cruel to both of them to let him become attached. She snuck another glance at where he was laughing and joking with his friends. He smiled with his whole face. Creases that were not quite dimples formed to either side of his mouth, and his eyes widened. He smiled a lot tonight. He must be a happy man.

  She frowned, sad for herself and her enforced isolation, missing out of the kinds of friendship Luke seemed to have with Hugh and Neal. Crissy never let relationships get off the ground. Not dating bar customers was a convenient excuse for protecting both herself and any man who came too near. She had dated once during her travels. It had made leaving much harder when the time came.

  Still, she couldn’t stop herself peeking at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. She felt like an infatuated teenager. He was handsome in an adorable, uncomplicated way, appealing to her need for a simpler life. Settling down somewhere. No more worry. No more running.

  But who was she kidding? No one had ever given a damn about her, and she doubted they ever would. People left. People died. Or they put their needs above hers. Angry at these thoughts, she shoved a wine bottle roughly into its slot on the barback. Then she had to grab its neighbors to keep them from toppling. When they were all safely in their places, she sighed and glanced over her shoulder at Luke.

  Having someone good-looking stare at her with frank admiration now and then was nice, but, seriously, she overheard them discussing weddings. Her wedding. And a honeymoon in Hawaii.

  Bobby walked up beside her, catching her glare.

  “Crissy, these are some good friends of mine.”

  Of course, fellow shifters.

  “Have you been introduced?”

  “Yes. Hugh, Luke, and Neal.” An odd warm flare pulsed down the cord when she said Luke’s name. It felt pleased. A pool of blue light anchored both ends of the cord. What is happening? On the verge of panic, she trembled as she poured pineapple juice for a piña colada.

  She didn’t miss Bobby’s attention swiveling between her and Luke. When Neal nodded at him, a slow grin spread across Bobby’s face. “Treat them extra special tonight, Crissy. They drink for free. It’s a special day.”

  “Somebody’s birthday?”

  “It’s the first day of the rest of my life,” Luke said, in all seriousness.

  Neal looked up and away, and Hugh snorted, coughed, and took a quick drink of his beer.

  Disgusted now, she said, “Suuure. Let me replace those bottles, Mr. Rest of My Life.”

  She knew it came out wrong the moment Luke stared up at her with puppy-dog, adoring eyes.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” She threw up her hands and turned to the cooler.

  From behind her, Neal said, “It would be a bad thing if word got around while she’s still vulnerable.”

  Vulnerable? Wanting to snort, she grabbed three bottles of beer instead. What did he know about anything?

  “Schmitts?” Bobby replied.

  “Bernie, as always. If he finds out...”

  “I’ll keep quiet.”

  “Promise,” Luke said as she turned around, three beers in her hands. “Promise,” he repeated urgently. The bottle clicked on the bar top when she set it down in front of him, but he didn’t seem to see it. For once he didn’t notice her.

  “I promise.” Bobby nodded solemnly, the creature behind him doing the same. She had yet to identify it. Weird.

  “You need some help in the kitchen, Bobby?”

  He pointed to the empty stool next to Hugh. “Time for your break. You sit there, and I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “It’s quieter in the back.”

  “Sit.”

  “Can I use the little girls’ room first?” she said sarcastically.

  “Yes.”

  Crissy didn’t need to go, but she did need to get out of the noise and crush of the bar before she dissolved into a full-blown panic attack. She’d never had one, but she thought she might now. She locked the door, leaned against it, and slid down to sit on the floor.

  Weird. As. Shit. Bobby always discou
raged men from hitting on her. If they got too aggressive, all she had to do was call. Now, he was encouraging Luke, although, to be honest, Luke actually hadn’t done anything except gaze at her adoringly for hours—and talk about weddings and honeymoons.

  Crissy wasn’t stupid. Far from it. Something was going on, something she couldn’t quite grasp. The cord between them shone as bright as ever, heading straight for the bar and disappearing through the door. An experimental swipe with the blade of her hand and a touch of magical intent did nothing. Strong as ever. The touch of magic she used allowed her to feel the cord as her hand passed through, a brief, pleasant touch of warmth.

  Crissy knew all about parasitic cords. She knew men found her pretty, and that attracted all sorts. Every now and then, a sickly yellow-orange cord would snake its way from some bar patron, usually from some loathsome man trying to get her attention. These men monopolized her time, day and night if she let them, because as the bartender, she had to deal with the public.

  “Buck up, little girl,” she said to herself, squared her shoulders and went back to the bar. Luke, who sat in the middle, had exchanged places with Hugh; she would now sit next to him. She inhaled sharply, let it out, and perched on the stool.

  “Luke.”

  “Crissy.” He grinned, boyish, creases forming in his cheeks. Cute didn’t even begin to describe him. Fit and big, he dwarfed her, and she was not a small woman. “How tall are you?” she blurted out.

  The grin grew wider. “Six-foot three.”

  He had the body of a man blessed with good genes who kept fit through hard work. “Do you work at the cement plant?”

  “Nah. I’m a farmer.”

  “What do you farm?”

  “Apples. And we keep bees. We sell honey all over.”

  “We?”

  Neal, who had moved so he now sat in the middle, watched this exchange closely. “We live and work together.”

  Gay? It didn’t fit. “You’re...”

  “Relatives,” Luke said. “Neal is my nephew.”

  “You look about the same age.”

  “Ja. My parents had me late.”

  “How old are you, Luke?”

  Instead of answering, he picked up his beer and raised it to his lips, taking the smallest sip. “You’re all business.”

  “Just practical. It’s obvious you’re interested. Bobby’s encouraging it for some insane reason, so I guess I’ll find out why.”

  Susie came down the bar with plates for all of them. Bobby made the best bar food she’d ever tasted, and she’d eaten a lot of bar food.

  “I didn’t even order,” Hugh said.

  “Bobby said, and I quote, ‘Those animals always want the same thing.’”

  The men laughed, and Crissy joined in, getting the joke. Hugh and Neal both had salads, Neal’s without grilled chicken. Vegetarian for the horse. Crissy supposed an ape didn’t eat a lot of meat, either. Before her sat her favorite: a juicy burger, french fries, and a bottle of ketchup. As for Luke...

  “You two eat like girls.” He reached for a double jalapeno burger.

  “Second half is starting,” Hugh said. They all stared up at the TV. Except Luke.

  “What about you? How tall are you?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Five-eight. Bartender. Twenty-six.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  She squirted ketchup on her fries and said without looking at him, “Around.”

  “Around where? Not around here.”

  “No, not around here.” He was a vortex, a whirlpool, and if she came too close, she feared she’d be sucked in whole. The cord pulsed, and she knew his disappointment. Odd things often flashed through her mind about people. She called them Knowings. True things came to her, but never before did she actually feel them as if the emotions were her own. Luke wanted her so desperately, and although she sensed a little sexual desire, the need came from something deeper. An old wound.

  He wanted to love her. In those moments, she knew all the pent-up hope that burst free the second he had seen her. A dizzying tide of elation belonging to him rather than to her. Her head felt light. Floating. Then her own panicky emotions swamped his. She gripped the edge of the bar with both hands to keep her balance against a wave of vertigo. As soon as she could, she stood, muttered, “Excuse me,” and walked away.

  Crissy would have to break the cord. Soon. She couldn’t let him become any more attached. If he was already this invested in her at their first meeting, letting it continue would destroy him the next time she ran.

  ###

  Luke slumped as she walked away.

  “She’s overwhelmed,” Neal said. He pulled out his wallet and placed a bill on the bar, a tip for Crissy. A substantial one. Neal always tipped well, because he valued people.

  “I need to talk to her some more.” He ignored the pleading in his voice. By this point, he had no shame.

  “No, Luke. You need to go home and think about your strategy.”

  “I can think here.” He remained in his seat while the other two stood.

  “No. Come on.” Neal grabbed Luke’s biceps, giving a little tug,

  Luke pulled against him, but Neal held on while he tried to jerk his arm away. “Let go!” The patrons at the table nearest them quieted at his outburst, and he lowered his voice. “I have to stay,” he hissed.

  “Luke,” Neal said sternly.

  Luke glanced around. People were watching.

  “Okay.” He placed his own generous tip on the bar top and let Neal and Hugh usher him out to the Mercedes. He got into the back seat, strapped on his seat belt, and stretched his long legs out over the seat beside him.

  “Just once I’d like to sit in the front seat like a grownup.”

  Hugh grinned over his shoulder from the front passenger seat, his big face looming in the darkness. “You can do that when you’re bigger than me.”

  “Maybe I’ll drive from now on.”

  “You hate to drive.”

  He had no response, so he crossed his arms and shut up while the car bumped out of the parking lot and onto the street. He sat silently in the dark back seat for three minutes before he said, “What do you think of my mate?”

  Neal leaned back, one hand leisurely grasping the wheel. “I’ll admit, she’s lovely.”

  “Fate did you well,” Hugh said. He sat with his hands between his knees, flexing his fingers as he sometimes did when he hadn’t let the gorilla out to play for too long.

  Neal glanced at Hugh. “We should go up to the rock tomorrow. Let the beasts run.”

  “It’s getting cold for that,” Luke said. He wanted to talk about Crissy. “What about her personality?”

  “She was good with the customers,” Neal said. “People were clamoring for her attention, but she kept calm and cheerful all night. You saw how she handled that one guy who was badgering Ralph from the cement plant. What did you sense, Hugh?”

  Hugh was the only one among their entire clan with even a touch of magical Sight. It lent him insights into people that others missed.

  He scratched the thin layer of beard around the edge of his jaw. “Well, she’s got a lot of compassion. You can’t tell much. There’s baggage there, Luke, and you should maybe think about that before you go barging in.”

  “I won’t barge in.”

  Neal snorted. “Yes, you will. You already have.”

  After a moment, Hugh continued, “It’s hard getting a sense of the future.”

  “You don’t sense the future that often,” Neal said.

  “I know, my foresight is very weak.”

  Luke crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the darkened window at the passing trees. Neal and Hugh discussed the game and whether they could catch the final quarter when they got home. He closed his eyes and remembered as much as he could, dwelling on the little smile she gave him when she was at Jonah’s table. How can I go slow? I want her in my arms right now. Tonight. With this thought, he felt a stirring.
She had a truly fine figure, lithe but curved in all the right places. To be honest, she suited his personal taste much more than Eva ever had. Of course, at the time he had thought Eva was perfect.

  Neal spoke to him, shaking him from his musings. Probably a good thing. “The harvest is in. You can be away from the farm a little more. Spend more time in town. Maybe go to the bar in the afternoons. Bobby said she works four to midnight on Wednesday through Sunday, and sometimes on Monday. She also works part-time at a nursery.”

  “Day care nursery or plants nursery?”

  “Blandon’s.” A large outfit that raised hothouse flowers for the florist market.

  “Interesting. Maybe she wouldn’t mind being a farmer’s wife.”

  “Wife? Already?” Hugh said, laughter in his voice.

  “Does anything not amuse you?” Like most of their interactions, it was an old complaint, worn down through repetition over the centuries until it came from habit more than any depth of feeling.

  “Your cooking. Those things you called quesadillas the other day made me nauseous.”

  Neal nodded. “Greasy.”

  “I wonder if she can cook.”

  “You can’t count on it these days,” Neal said.

  “My mate will be old-fashioned,” Hugh said. “She will be able to cook and be a demure little farm wife.”

  Luke and Neal both snickered. “Fool,” Luke said. “You can’t tempt Fate by saying things like that.”

  “What about you, Neal?” Hugh’s voice, usually a sweet tenor incongruous with his huge frame, now held a wavery rasp that barely reached Luke’s sensitive ears.

  Neal didn’t move other than making a few small adjustments to the steering wheel. In the quiet car, Luke heard too many seconds tick by on the old-fashioned pocket watch Hugh always carried. Neal blew out a breath. “I just want one.”

  They sat in uncomfortable silence, the shush of the tires on wet pavement loud in the quiet of the night. He closed his eyes against the helplessness he felt whenever he thought of Neal’s lonely existence and leaned his head against the upholstery. He counted back in his head. One hundred, two hundred... Over six hundred years. Even for a shifter, Neal had gone a long time without ever finding his mate.