Did her animal know he was too damaged? Was Felicity being protected from the anguish he would bring her? It was better that way, surely. He thought her kindness was real, and her interest was genuine, but some sense of self-preservation must be keeping their bond from being true and two-way.
Maybe the wine at the bar would be unspoiled. Robert wasn’t ready to fling himself out into the waves or off a cliff. It sounded too messy. Logic suggested that it would be inconvenient for others.
He trudged up the steps from the beach to the bar and settled onto a stool. He glanced to the side and recognized the handyman who had fixed a leaking shower head in his bathroom. Travis.
“I’m going to have to get on Scarlet’s case about hiring me more help,” the man complained to the bartender. “Maybe the infrastructure is more solidly built and more modern, but there are more rooms to keep up with, and I don’t even know what we’re going to do when we start construction on the bay village.”
“That place needs a better name,” the bartender said. He looked over and noticed Robert. “What can I get you?” he asked, sidling over and putting a napkin down in front of him.
“Wine, if it hasn’t turned,” Robert requested. “And a shot.”
“Of…?”
“Doesn’t matter what.”
“Ah, one of those. I have a bottle ofdoesn’t matter whatthat I save for just these occasions.”
The wine he served was sweet and smooth, and the drink he poured was a double, something dark and wicked and shifter-strong. Robert downed it in a few determined gulps and wondered if the heat of it could melt his ice. Did he want it to? He had to feel things to want things, too.
“I’m Tex,” the bartender said, refilling the shot glass. “Want to tell me what has you looking like your mate just left you?”
Robert looked up in alarm. Was he so transparent? “It’s not that she left me. It’s that she didn’t recognize me. Is there such a thing as a one-way mate bond? Is it possible?”
If the drink hadn’t thawed his heart, it had loosened his tongue, and Robert wasn’t sure why Tex and Travis exchanged amused looks and snorted with laughter.
“Our mates are identical twins,” Tex explained with a drawl. “There was a...great deal of confusion at first. It’s a long tale, but it ended with a double wedding.”
“Are yousureshe’s a shifter?” Travis asked.
“Of course—” Robert stopped. “Well, she works here. Iassumedshe was a shifter.”
Tex and Travis exchanged frowns. “Who is it?” Tex asked.
They looked at him more appraisingly now, like they were sizing him up and judging whether he might beacceptablefor one of their own. Robert had already figured out that the staff was tight knit and protective of each other, from the lowliest maid right up to Scarlet, the owner, herself. It might be a nice place to work, if he had any interest in anything more meaningful than drifting through a daily existence.
Was the hollow place in his heart the same as longing?
He realized he hadn’t answered their question. “Happiness,” he said gravely. “She is happiness.”
CHAPTER13
Felicity cast a practiced eye around the kitchen as she bussed in a platter of dirty dishes on Christmas Eve.
Broken home.
It certainly didn’t lookbroken.
Chef and Breck kept everything running in a wonder of efficiency and cheer. They were singing together now, a Christmas traditional that Felicity wasn’t familiar with. Breck’s mate, Darla, was kneading dough and singing counterpoint in a clear soprano. Even Theodora was humming along as she prepared plates and poured drinks for the breakfast rush.
Was itTheodora’ssecret that had cracked the perfect facade? She looked considerably happier now that she had a confidante. When she caught Felicity watching her, she gave a shy, grateful smile.
Maybe Felicity had called her mother too soon, and she’d already fixed the problem herself. But the wine had gone offafterTheodora had made her confession.
At least nothing that morning had come up rotten or suspect and the only thing that went wrong was that Felicity handled plates so gingerly that she dropped one of them and had to pause to clean up her mess.
Theodora stopped to help her, mopping up the lost omelet with a rag as Chef swiftly started cooking a replacement. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I think everything is fine now,” Felicity said confidently. “Except for my butter fingers!”
