“Hey, Allie?” Her dad popped his head through the doors. “I need you out here.”
She glanced down at herself to make sure her dress was back to normal. “Be right there.”
“Allie.” Dax lightly gripped her hand, but she pulled away.
“I have to go.” She turned and hurried to the restroom. Closing the stall door, Allie leaned against it and closed her eyes.
She couldn’t do it, not after so much heart break and so much longing for the one thing that never seemed to work out. All the years of her life she’d invested in men, both shifter and human, just hoping to find The One, only to have it all go to waste? This is how the universe was going to play its hand, by throwing a man at her feet and deciding he was Mr. Right, right now? Screw that.
It didn’t matter what he said, she wasn’t getting involved with him.
No matter what.
Chapter Six
Dax gave another swingof the axe and welcomed the jarring discomfort that rippled up his arms and through his back. He needed the pain.
What he really needed was to shed his human skin, free his bear and hunt in the forests of his father’s land. His father had gone inside his massive log home, a perk of so many years of hard work and persistence in the uncertain construction industry. He’d looked a little ashen while operating the log splitter, and Dax was glad he’d gone to rest. At one-hundred twenty-five in human years, his dad was officially in a shifter’s “golden years.” It was hard to see his father as an old man, but that’s what he was. And soon he’d be handing down Mitchell Corp to his sons, with Dax first in line. Unless of course, he made good on his promise to cut him out.
Dax pondered how easily his father had been tiring lately. He was slowing down; getting closer to the day he just couldn’t keep up anymore. He’s not been the same since mom died, Dax thought. In the three years since, his dad had been aging noticeably by increments, each year making it more obvious. No wonder he was so insistent that Dax take a mate. Rowan was growlingly aware of his mortality, and wanted things buttoned up as much as possible before he kicked the big one.
“Up for a challenge?”
Dax gave a sideways look to his younger brother Jett who pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it on the ground. He slung an axe to his shoulder and kicked over a few logs. Standing one upright on the extra chopping block, Jett wagged his eyebrows, waiting for Dax’s response.
“Don’t you have bees to sing to or something?”
Jett smiled his big, extra-white grin. You’d never know he was a beekeeper by looking at him. His beard was seriously overgrown, and he had the whole gruff mountain man thing going on. Hard to believe this guy played classical music to beehives that produced rainbow-colored honey.
“Nah, they’re on a 90’s rock kick and that’s out of my range.”
Jett nudged his log into place, stood back and squared his stance, then swung the axe down. The log split with a resounding crack and filled the air with the scent of fresh pine. Dax nodded to the pile he’d already chopped, nearly as high as he was tall.
“You must have something on your mind if you’re splitting that much by hand.” Jett inquired with an expectant look.
Dax was about to ignore the question in that sentence but turned it around instead. “I could say the same of you. There’s a perfectly good hydraulic log splitter sitting right here that will save your back.”
