Garret shrugged. “That’s no biggie.”
“He’s human.”
There’d be no instant bonding. We wouldn’t meet and mark one another and then spend a week in a love-making frenzy where we claimed one another over and over. We’d have to do it the slow, human way.
“You need a plan.” My cousin was full of great ideas.
But I’d had a plan for eight years. We’d meet, mate, and afterward, I’d have the freedom I’d been denied.
But now I needed a different approach.
I placed a hand over my tattoo, enjoying the warmth.NowI sensed the bond my dragon had when it first appeared, and I was as anxious as he was to meet our fated mate.
Arthur brought me my regular order to go. He must have sensed I was in no state to stay and eat. I drove past June Bartholomew’s house and noted a light on the second floor. My beast was pestering me to go and knock on the door. But I had to date and court my mate before explaining we were destined for one another. What if he didn’t fall for me? What then?
I rested my head on the steering wheel, wanting to stay but having no legit “human” reason for stalking the town’s newestresident. After waiting eight years, I couldn’t mess this up. But first, I had to make sure he had the tattoo.
He does and at least it isn’t on his butt.
That would be awkward.
THREE
PAX
The lawyer’s office smelled of old paper like one of my college professors. Mr. Brannon was how I expected a small-town lawyer to look. Neat and buttoned up, and I imagined he arranged his socks by color. But he was also kind and efficient, and he’d drawn up Aunt June’s will and knew her well.
“Everything’s in order.” He slid the documents across the desk. “The house is yours, and there’s no mortgage or liens. Your aunt wanted you to have a fresh start.”
I signed where he indicated, thinking a quick scribble of my signature would be enough, but by the tenth page, my hand cramped. Legal documents needed my signature in triplicate, apparently. Maybe it was a trick to ensure you were paying attention.
“There’s also this account your aunt set up.” He gave me a computer printout. “This is enough to cover your property taxes for a few years, with some left over for repairs and living expenses. June insisted that you not worry about money while you figured things out.
I sniffed and blinked away tears. Aunt June had thought of everything. She’d known I was drowning in a life that looked fineon the surface, and she’d thrown me a lifeline. But I wished she was still here to see me grab it.
“Thank you,” I choked out.
“She was a special woman.” Mr. Brannon smiled. “She used to tell me my aura was murky and that I needed to spend more time in nature to clean it.”
“Did you?”
“I bought a fish tank.” He pointed to a small aquarium in the corner. “I thought that was close enough.”
I left his office with a folder full of documents, feeling lighter than I had in months. The house and money was coupled with the opportunity to figure out what I wanted from life instead of what I thought I should want. But for right now, I had to be an adult and buy groceries.
The store closest to the lawyer’s office was smaller than the huge hypermarkets at home, but I had also noted a late-night convenience store when I drove in yesterday. I suspected that whatever I bought would be telegraphed around town and everyone would know my preferences and if I had any food allergies.
After getting a cart, I trawled up and down the aisles, getting the basics of bread, eggs, and milk. I could make French toast with those if nothing else. But as I wandered around, I tossed in peanut butter, because you could never have enough, plus a sugary cereal that would give me such a rush I might mow the overgrown lawn in the middle of the night.
To those items, I added frozen pizza, pasta, and sauce in a jar, because while learning to cook was on my to-do list, it wasn’t happening this week.
A man smiled at me near the produce section. “You’re June’s nephew.” As I’d guessed, everyone knew who I was, and I hadn’t even unpacked.
“Yes, hi. I’m Pax.”
“Welcome to town. She spoke of you often.” The guy moved on before I could ask his name. When I glanced down, I was holding a bag of apples. Hmmm, I hoped the memory lapse wasn’t a warning of more changes. The last time it happened was when I got the tattoo.
I lugged my canvas bags through the doors and strode toward the parking lot. But I didn’t make it. I couldn’t walk because my legs were refusing to obey. There was a truck parked three spaces down from my car. There was a red-and-orange logo on the side with the name, GallowayConstruction & Carpentry. A man was leaning on the vehicle with his arms crossed as if he was waiting for someone.
