Really?
Who does that?
How overdramatic can one girl get?
Matthew seems to think it’s hilarious because he laughs and copies my movement, snapping his fingers before he, too, shifts into his other form. Matthew is a lion, so he’s bigger than me, but his shifting doesn’t take any longer than mine. Within seconds, he’s no longer a man. He’s a beast, and a beautiful one at that.
I’d love to take some time and just enjoy the way he looks. I’d love to spend some time just savoring the moment. I want to rub myself against him and just purr at him because his mane is so long and pretty, and every inch of his fur looks soft and wonderful. I know that we’re in a hurry. I get that. It’s obvious, but I also really want to indulge. We don’t have time for much, but we have time for just a quick touch.
I take a step forward and gently nuzzle Matthew’s neck with my head. He growls, but it’s not a scary growl. No, it’s a happy growl. This is the type of growl that makes me even more certain he’s my mate, and that realization both fascinates and terrifies me at the same time. I want everything he could possibly have to offer me. I want it all. I want Matthew’s touch and his love and his time and his energy. I want to grow old with him, and that’s not something I’ve ever wanted before.
He lets me rub against him and he takes a moment to touch me, too. Even this in and of itself is totally new to me. I’ve never exactly done this with my former lovers. I mean, what would I say?
“Excuse me, would you like to shift and rub our bodies against each other in our animal forms?”
That seems a little nuts, honestly.
Much as I’m enjoying what’s happening, I have a feeling that saying something like this out loud to another shifter would be a fast way to get blacklisted from the dating scene in our little town.
I’m totally ready spend forever in this moment, but eventually, it’s time to move, and Matthew pats my paw with his own. He looks at me, and I can’t help but feeling like I’m going to lose myself in those eyes.
In my tiger form, everything feels stronger. I feel stronger physically, but my emotions feel stronger, too, and I wonder why I didn’t make a move on this guy sooner. I wonder why we didn’t connect until now. I wonder why, for so long, neither one of us really paid the other any attention.
Why not?
Were we both too caught up in our own worlds?
It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that time is running out. The media has already gotten wind of this story and we’re in serious damage-control mode. If we don’t stop this story in its tracks, then it’s not going to matter if my uncle dies before he can remove the permits from Matthew’s company. It’s not going to matter what anyone says about the validity of Ridge Construction because the damage to Matthew’s reputation would have already been done.
So, I turn, and I run.
I run faster than I’ve ever run before because right now, everything depends on this. Everything depends on me. Everything depends on getting to my aunt and uncle’s house before it’s too late.
I race faster than I’ve ever raced before, and I feel Matthew running alongside me. I don’t dare look to my side because if I do, I’m going to slow down, and that’s one thing I can’t afford to do right now. I have to keep going, no matter what. Everything is on the line right now. Everything that matters to our town could be lost if we don’t hurry up and just get there.
I turn down a side road and then another. Together, we leap over a car and dodge people who are mulling about. We’re creating chaos in this moment, but it’s okay because soon we’re going to be there, and we can find a solution to what my uncle has done.
We can make this all end.
We don’t have a choice.
Soon, we near the house where Alastair grew up. My aunt and uncle’s home is a little two-story farmhouse at the edge of town. It’s totally remodeled, both inside and out, and it looks like the kind of thing you’d see on a postcard. It’s lovely, really, and I’ve spent many afternoons here sipping tea with my aunt. Rarely do I come for dinner, however, because my uncle is a total prick. Everything that comes out of his mouth drips with venom.
I’ve never really understood how a person could be so miserable, but there you go. Some people are just born mean, I guess.
As soon as we reach the house, we shift back into our human forms and start to walk up to the front door. My aunt would recognize me as a tiger, I’m sure, but a lion in tiger country isn’t exactly going to be a welcome sight. My aunt is definitely the shoot first, ask questions later type of person.
Before we reach the front door, she’s outside on the porch and looking at us curiously.
“Cassidy,” she says. “To what do I owe the honor? And who’s your friend?” She eyes him suspiciously, but not negatively. She seems more curious than afraid of my companion, which is good. Matthew and I aren’t here to cause trouble. We’re here to stop it.
“Hi Auntie,” I say. My aunt holds out a blanket to each of us. I happily accept a bright pink one and wrap it around myself. Then I had the green blanket to
Matthew so he can cover himself. There’s nothing wrong with being nude, but I’m also certain that my aunt doesn’t want us loitering around her house without clothing on.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Uh-huh,” my aunt eyes him carefully, waiting to find out what we want. This obviously isn’t a social visit.