Focusing on the weather is my vain attempt to think of anything other than the mythical creature lounging on my front porch. My eyes stay on the wooden planks beneath my feet as I settle beside him on the step, plenty of space between us. Then, I pretend to be fully absorbed in my first sip of coffee.
All a ploy to give Mahon time. Time to school his shocked features. Time to come up with an excuse to make a hasty departure.
But after a seemingly endless stretch, I can’t keep my eyes to myself any longer. Not when I finally have an unobstructed view of him. Not when I have his freshly mowed grass and tangy tree-sap scent teasing the slitted nostrils on my tiny bump of a nose.
Bracing myself, I turn my head.
He’s staring. That’s not new. But the delighted, wide-mouthed grin is. The shifter almost appears joyous.
Did I turn into a giant bar of chocolate and not notice?
Finally, he snaps his mouth shut. Only to open it a moment later and set me further off-balance.
“Iloveblue.” Mahon points to his T-shirt, which happens to be a vibrant shade of royal blue that matches my scales. The material stretches over a beefy chest and a set of biceps I’m not sure I could wrap my fingers around even if I used both hands. “It goes great with my hair,” he continues, unclipping the helmet. When he takes the covering off, a mess of red waves spills out, the color darkened by sweat. Mahon messes the strands further with his broad palm.
Our roles have reversed because now, I’m the one speechlessly staring. Never have I had such an easy acceptance of my appearance. Even Levi, a monster himself, did a triple take when we first met.
“Don’t hold off eating on my account.” Mahon waves at the bag he drove all the way out here to deliver. “You gotta be starved.”
Still lost for words, I silently take out and unwrap my turkey and avocado sandwich, robotically biting into my lunch as my mind tries to make sense of this odd man.
When I swallow, his joyful grin returns. “Good, huh? Heath makes a mean loaf of sourdough. Tried to teach me a few times but got all grumpy, saying I was killing his starters.” The redhead shrugs. “I wasn’ttryingto murder them. Sometimes, things die of natural causes, you know?” He glances my way.
With my mouth full, I just raise my brow ridges.
“Exactly! He didn’t agree. Put me on delivery duty instead. Much better job. I wish you’d order more though. Yours is my favorite house to come to. Get to fly down that last stretch of road before your drive. And no one else bothers putting on ashow for me.” He waves toward my monster fucking display. “Like I said before,genius.”
His chortles have me smiling as I take another bite of my sandwich.
“Thank you,” I mumble through the food. The tone of my voice surprises me, as does my posture.When did I start talking shyly and slouching as if I’m ashamed?
With a jerk, I straighten my spine and meet Mahon’s eyes. At least, I try to. But his focus is on my relatively flat chest.
“Did you go to Ramla?” He points, and I realize he’s not attempting to find my mosquito-bite boobs, but instead reading the logo on the sweatshirt.
Ramla University. The academic institution just south of Folk Haven, secretly serving a populace of mythics, just like our town provides a home for a good portion of mythical creatures.
I nod while swallowing. “I was their first fully online student.” Now, they’re looking into improving virtual offerings. But for me, the professors jumped through a lot of hoops. “Got a degree in marketing. That’s my job now. Digital marketing. Can do it all from home.” I wave at my house, trying to forget how my boss has been pushing for face-to-face meetings lately. If he makes them mandatory, I’ll have to quit and go on the job hunt again.
“Consider me impressed. You’re looking at a guy who barely made it to high school graduation.” The shifter offers a sheepish smile that crinkles his beard in a delightful way. “Still don’t know what I want to do with my life. Just work a bunch of odd jobs around town for now.”
Mahon describes his situation as if there were something wrong with it. But, gods, the freedom in that way of living starts up a subtle longing in my chest. I like my job. I’m great at it. But I can’t just show up someplace and ask about their Help Wantedsign. I have to do a whole digital song and dance to keep from exposing my unusual face to the world.
“Do you need any help around here?” Mahon’s question brings my focus back to our conversation. “Maybe a gardener? I can do it shirtless.” The shifter wiggles his eyebrows, crimson hairs dancing like caterpillars above a set of friendly hazel eyes. It’s almost as if he’s flirting with me.
But that can’t be right.
Still, I fight the traitorous curl of my lips as I answer, “Sorry, not in need of any half-dressed employees. Despite the setup in my yard, I promise you I am not filming pornos here.”
Mahon barks out a laugh as he reclines on his elbows. Suddenly, I’m regretting not requiring he take his shirt off. Right now, the cotton strains against his meaty body.
The opposite of mine, which is just a collection of sharp angles.
“You have a big ole cast of characters already—that’s for sure.”
I follow his stare to the bawdy scene, swearing Mahon’s eyes run over the generous globes of Frankenstein’s monster’s ass.
“Which one is your favorite?”
