It had been a month since she’d heard Axel say that to her, five weeks to be exact since she’d kissed his cheek and walked away. Her lips quivered. A lifetime since she’d scratched Gunnar behind the ear and left a quaint little nothing of a town in rural Washington.
She glanced at the clock on her computer monitor and decided an early departure wouldn’t hurt. She wasn’t getting a damn thing done today anyway, so she shut her computer system down and grabbed her things.
Had she done the right thing? She’d thought so at the time, but now in hindsight, she wasn’t so sure. The career she’d strove for had lost its luster, become a job—one that for brief moments occupied her mind enough to dispel the loneliness but never cured the problem. Work gave her a reason to get up each morning. After all, she had bills to pay. Her rent.
Utilities. Her car note.
She unlocked her VW Beetle and slipped in on the driver’s side. Gripping the wheel, she closed her eyes a second and exhaled.
Her job wasn’t all she’d hoped it could be, and it wasn’t enough to fulfill the aching void. What had she come back for? Her family? They weren’t here. After assuring themselves she was alive and had all her limbs, her parents had returned to Colorado.
Her friends? Carrie was off on her honeymoon, and Lana was dating a physical therapist she’d met after the accident that kept her from going on the ski trip in the first place.
Her neighbors—at least those to whose faces she could put a name—were nice enough. But they were busy with their own lives, so aside from the occasional wave and “How are you?” they offered little incentive to plant roots here.
A horn honked, startling her from her thoughts and making her realize the light was green. She’d driven several blocks on autopilot. Stepping on the gas, Dakota tried to focus more on the traffic and less on why she kept dwelling on the possibility that a month ago she’d made the worst mistake of her life.
Traffic. Stop lights. Neon signs. Before her vacation, she hadn’t thought much about the hustle and bustle of Vegas. It had just been life as usual, but now she’d experienced another side to life, another world that made the previously exciting city feel too busy, congested and garishly bright.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I made the right choice,” she said aloud, trying to convince herself that she believed the words.
She didn’t belong with two men. Things like that just didn’t happen, and she mentally went through the plethora of reasons why for the umpteenth time since returning from Washington.
How would she tell her parents? What kind of future could she have with two men—no, two brothers? Even considering it, she knew polygamy would be impossible. It went against societal conventions, against the law.
Yet, their parents had found a way.
They didn’t ask you to marry them, she reminded herself.
No, no one had said anything about marriage or a lifelong commitment, but she’d still run. From commitment, from them, from the strong emotions they so easily ignited inside of her.
She didn’t belong with Axel and Gunnar Falke.
They were not human.
No, that wasn’t true. They were more than human, shifters. Exotic, exciting, unbelievable men who’d asked her to stay, to give any potential future with them a chance, and she’d stupidly walked away.
But it was for the best, wasn’t it?
Then why do I feel…hollow? Why couldn’t she resume her life as usual? Why did something every single day remind her of what she’d given up?
Her friend’s wedding had been the worst. A beautiful ceremony in a traditional church, as opposed to one of the abundantly available wedding chapels.
The bride glowed with joy. Surrounded by family and friends, her groom had eyes only for her. While wedding guests laughed and ate and had a good time, Dakota didn’t miss the couple casting desirous glances toward each other—that shared understanding and need to get away and be alone. Shared looks similar to those exchanged in an isolated cabin, at a snow-covered trailhead and outside the lobby of a ski resort.
Her mind occupied with what might’ve been, she arrived home with little memory of the actual trip that brought her there. After parking her car, she got out and checked her mailbox. As she thumbed through the junk mail, her frustration level grew.
Scared. That’s what she’d been. She’d been too afraid to commit to them after just a few days together.
They didn’t know her, not really. How could they? And she might’ve been privy to their greatest secret, but what more did she know about them?
Not much, she decided.
In her ground-floor apartment, Dakota tossed her keys and purse on the table, grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and dropped into her recliner to stare at the black TV screen.
She hadn’t given herself a chance to learn more about them either. Whether it was because they could do things no normal humans could or the idea of having not one but two men interested in her—and willing to share—she didn’t know. Maybe it was both.
Regardless, she’d run away from the opportunity to find out more about them. Denied herself the chance to see if a relationship could work.
Of course, it was too soon to talk about love. She’d told them that, and now told herself every time they entered her thoughts. But she did care about them and wondered what they were doing now.
Had they found someone else? They were big boys, grown men. They were fine. They’d probably forgotten all about her by now.
She drank half the bottle of water and closed her eyes with a disgruntled sigh.
“Get over it!” she snapped at herself. Move on.
Her gaze landed on the new picture frame that sat atop her TV next to an older college graduation picture of her with her parents. The new frame held a montage of four pictures. One of her before a beautiful sunrise, another of a big elk and two more of her with Axel and Falke. She smiled at the shot of Falke licking her cheek, but the smile softened, faded, when she stared at the last shot. Two pairs of hazel eyes looked back at her—one in the face of a handsome man, the other in the face of a cougar. The camera had captured three happy faces, hers and theirs, in front of an idyllic backdrop of snow and nature. She wished she’d thought of taking a picture with the three of them while both men were in human form.
She got up and went to the bedroom, took a long shower and prepared for bed. It was early, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t hungry, and she wasn’t in the mood for news or sitcoms or some stupid awards show.
Flipping back the bed linens, she’d just begun to climb in when the doorbell rang.
For a half second Dakota thought about ignoring it, but curiosity won out, so she threw on a silk wrap and headed to the door.
The doorbell sounded again.
“I’m coming. Just a minute.”
Peeping through the eye-hole, she looked and saw no one.
Ticked that it might be children playing pranks, she hollered, “Who is it?”
Something scratched at the door.
Oh, damn it. Someone better not have left a stray puppy or kitten on her doorstep. Her apartment didn’t allow pets, aside from the occasional goldfish.
With a huff, she unlocked, opened the door, and gaped.
A full-grown puma in a black leather collar sat outside her door, his long tail swishing lazily.
Meow.
She stared, afraid to blink, expecting her hallucination to vanish.
“Can we come in?” Axel stepped into view.
“Oh, my God!” She grabbed the cat by the collar, Axel by his shirt, and pulled them into the apartment.