Huh. Interesting. So,he wants me, but he doesn’t like me.
That was okay. Given how I’d treated him in the past, I didn’t blame him. There was a time when he wanted me badly. Maybe I could remind him of that.
Since Taylor’s death, it’d been a long dry spell. I didn’t want to fuck any male, human or shifter. But Brody was hardly just anyone. He was reliable. And hot. Just the thought of Brody’s hard shaft made my throat go dry. Since I’d been free of Taylor, I’d lost count of how many nights I’d thought about Brody as my “what if?”. From his frown, I gathered that fantasy wasn’t mutual. Still, if he had an itch, I’d be happy to scratch it.
The back door banged.
“Careful! Wet paint!” I said. My four-year-old son, Theo, sprinted into the house, giggling. He ducked behind a stack of unopened crates and placed one pudgy finger to his lips to warn me of his secrecy. Apparently, a serious game of Hide and Seek was underway.
I winked at him and returned to painting. No sense in stopping before I finished this wall.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brody resume his trim work without more than a mumbled “hi” to Theo.
“Fee-fi-fo-fum.” Gabe stomped in through the back door. The ghoul’s impression of a giant was more Frankenstein than anything else. He checked all sorts of ridiculous hiding places for Theo, like my purse and the coffee pot.
“Lots of wet paint here.” I waved my roller back toward the door he had entered.
“Careful, she’s not too discriminating about it getting on the walls,” Brody growled.
“I’m going outside to search for my victim.” Gabe’s stage whisper reverberated off my narrow walls. He’d been using the handmade soap I’d given him; his telltale ghoul odor had decreased, and my soap was behind the transformation. Quite frankly, that was the best news I’d had in a long time. As with all ghouls, his odor created social tension amid the sensitive noses of other paranormals.
Back in Ohio, I’d experimented with several new soap recipes. Apparently, I’d created a winner. Now I was eager to get my soap-making supplies going. In addition to salon services, I planned to sell homemade soaps to humans and paranormals alike. I was doing good with something I’d started as a lark back in Ohio when we were trying to make ends meet. That was when Taylor drank any money I didn’t hide.
I loved soap-making. It was part chemistry and part art, and it all smelled great. I’d branched into using natural herbs, and from the looks of Sleepy Briar’s early spring, I could soon get started gathering some. I’d sow my favorite plants in raised beds right in the yard this summer.
I ceased mentally planning my not-yet-created herb garden to consider Gabe and Brody ignoring each other. Interesting. I’d make sure to weasel the history of that out of Gabe. I never would’ve guessed a ghoul could be so sensitive, though that was probably what made him a great babysitter.
Gabe was starting down the back steps when my son popped up from his hiding place.
“Here I am!” Theo called before scrambling over the top of the crates. He dropped to the floor, somersaulting twice, and his giggles became grunts. Just like that, my four-year-old son was replaced by a wolf cub. Theo raced out the door on four feet and, from the sounds of it, succeeded in tackling the ghoul in the backyard.
I climbed down from the ladder and collected the tattered remains of Theo’s clothing. By now, I was pretty much numb to this situation. I threw the latest scraps on my rag heap, which was growing daily.
This was the real reason we were in Sleepy Briar.
My preschool son had started shifting. Usually, the wolf spirit asserted itself in high school. At least, that was what Taylor had told me. We’d planned to be moved away from Ohio by then. But life is full of surprises, and now Theo needed to be among his own kind. And as his mother, I needed to be with him too.
I waited for Brody to say something. Anything. Did I have to ask him? Or would he offer to mentor Theo on how to survive as a wolf shifter?
It was a question so important, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I couldn’t wolf the thought of him rejecting Theo. Brody could be disgusted with me, but my son was a different story.
I pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and two paper cups from an open box. It was all I had unpacked in the kitchen. Heaven knows where the wine glasses were. I poured myself some wine, but Brody shook his head at my offer. He still hadn’t said a word.
“So?” I asked before draining wine out of my paper cup. Gulping is not sexy, but this was beyond normal circumstances. I needed liquid courage. I refilled my cup, waiting for Brody to say something. Anything.
He resumed painting, presenting his back to me. “You shouldn’t let him shift in the house.”
Chapter3
BRODY
“The ghoul is your babysitter?” I asked.
“I don’t see why not. Theo is crazy about him. Finding a babysitter for a shifter isn’t easy.” Willow frowned at her paint-speckled arm.
“Gabe isn’t a shifter.”
I give s single shouldered shrug “He’s a paranormal.” Willow continued painting. “My son needs to know others like himself. That’s why we’re here. And we’re not leaving. So whatever problem you have with me, let’s clear the air right now.”