Keeping his eyes on Remy, Carson turned his head slightly in response to Hunter’s touch, “What?”
“Hey,” Hunter said, snapping his fingers in front of Carson’s face. “Get out. Remy is waiting for you! Hustle, hustle! Move it!”
The only thing Carson heard was “get out” and when that finally sank in, he scrambled out of the SUV, slamming the door behind him. As Henri unloaded his luggage and then drove off, Carson remained where he was, unable to move toward Remy, immobilized by the sudden return of his crippling childhood shyness. At a loss without his brothers to smooth the way, he frantically tried to remember what his therapist told him to do, but his mind was blank.
Feeling beads of sweat running down his back, Carson discreetly wiped his clammy palms on his pants, knowing he’d die a thousand deaths if his mate ever discovered how nervous he was.
“Carson?” Remy called softly, wondering why his mate didn’t approach.
The musical lilt of Remy’s voice was doing weird things to Carson’s heart; sparks were shooting through his body, making his wolf frantic to get out. He needed to answer his mate, yet the unexpected return of his childhood malady kept his voice silent.
Only Cody and Colton knew how much he suffered from it when he was young and they kept his secret, always covering for him whenever he was around strangers. When they weren’t with him, he coped by running away and hiding, but as he grew older that became harder to do.
His first year in college was a real struggle…so many new faces, but rooming with Cody and Colton helped him adjust. By his second year, he was able to meet his brothers and their friends for coffee, but as exhilarating asit was to know he was making progress, he was always exhausted when it ended; the stress of wondering if he’d said anything to offend one of his brothers’ friends always weighed heavily on his mind. Then, after a particularly bad anxiety attack, Colton insisted Carson see a therapist to help him overcome his shyness.
Learning different coping techniques changed Carson’s life from that point on. He still felt uneasy with strangers but it was a far cry from what it had been. Luckily, his decision to major in Business was the perfect choice; he could easily handle dealing with a couple of bosses and the same co-workers every day. A career path like nursing, which Colton chose, would have driven him up the wall, having to interact with new people all the time.
Laying eyes on his mate, every technique he learned flew from his mind, leaving behind only the severe shyness he thought he’d mastered. Now, when he needed his brothers more than ever, they were halfway around the world and Carson was alone with his mate—the man he’d dreamed of since he was twelve.
Standing in the doorway, Remy tilted his head to one side as he gazed at his mate who appeared to be mimicking a statue. He wondered if it was a mistake to have Henri drop Carson off at the cottage. Granted it was a while since he lived in the States, but Remy was pretty sure things hadn’t changed much regarding business meetings.Well, this isn’t really a business meeting, is it?Nope, but I have no idea what it is…a mating meeting, maybe?
Cursing under his breath, Remy watched as a plethora of emotions rippled across Carson’s face, wondering what was causing them. Then, deciding to bridge the gap between them, Remy smiled as he slowly ambled toward his mate, careful to appear casual and non-threatening.
Carson’s eyes widened as he saw his mate approach. He’s not a stranger, he’s just my mate…just my mate…not a stranger…someone I want…someone I want…don’t fuck this up…don’t fuck this up. Oh, dear gods…help me!
“Carson…I’m Remy…your Fated Mate.”
Nodding, Carson just stared at him, not able to say anything, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His nerves were strung so tight, he was sure they were going to snap.Do something…anything!Finally, his wolf took charge and a mating howl erupted from Carson’s throat. When his wolf finally released control of him, Carson collapsed at Remy’s feet, burying his face in his hands, mortified at his behavior.
As the last notes of his mate’s howl faded, Remy felt their connection solidify.There is no way I can live without this man. Sinking down onto the ground, he wrapped his arms around his mate, offering him the same love and comfort he gave his brothers. He didn’t know why his mate was acting strangely, nor did he care. All he cared about was soothing Carson.
Gently rubbing his mate’s back, Remy murmured reassuring words in Carson’s ear. Clearly something happened when his mate saw him, but Remy was at a loss at what it was and, without knowing the reason for Carson’s distress, he was helpless to fix it.
Shocked and surprised when Remy hugged him, Carson returned the gesture, burying his face against his mate’s neck, inhaling the scents of orange, earth, and grapes. Under Remy’s caring attention, he regained his composure and his anxiety receded. Tightening his arms around his mate, Carson never wanted to let go—he’d finally found what was missing in his life.
When his mate’s body relaxed against him, Remy said, “Let’s go inside…if that’s all right with you.”
Nodding, Carson took a deep breath before letting Remy go. “I’m sorry…from my childhood…thought I was over it…sorry about my wolf…never did that before…” he mumbled, before his voice faded.
Waiting patiently as Carson stumbled through what Remy guessed was meant to be an explanation of his behavior, he then grinned before saying, “I think a cup of coffee and some pastries will do us both good.” Getting up from the ground, he offered a helping hand to Carson. Then, leading his mate inside to the small living room, he said, “Please have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Collapsing on the sofa, Carson ran his hands over his face, as if trying to erase his humiliation. He thought his shyness was under control, but obviously not and he was stunned at its unexpected return, leaving him weak and unsure of himself. Trying to reclaim his self-control, he looked around; many book shelves lined the walls and framed photographs of his mate with three children were everywhere. Lingering on one, he wondered how they were related to his mate, then, moving on, his eyes fell on a painting over the fireplace.
Entering the room, carrying a small tray, Remy noticed his mate staring at the picture over the mantle. “That belonged to my mother. Do you like it?”
“Very much,” replied Carson, “who painted it?”
“She did. My mother was a well-known artist. I hung a number of her works around the house so my brothers would feel her presence,” Remy said, before handing a cup and saucer to his mate. Then he picked up the coffee pot, filling Carson’s cup, before pouring his own.
“Your mother is…”
“Yes, she and my father died almost a year ago,” Remy said.
“I’m so sorry,” Carson murmured, looking down, mentally kicking himself for bringing up painful memories.
Studying his mate, Remy couldn’t help comparing the unsure person sitting across from him to the confident one he saw in Henri’s hospital room. It was a contradiction that puzzled him; he wondered if he was responsible for whatever caused Carson’s change in behavior today. The grandfather clock’s chime interrupted Remy’s musings; his brothers would be home shortly and trying to have a serious discussion with his mate while they climbed over him eager to tell of their adventures that day would be impossible. Setting down his coffee, he asked, “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes…yes, I am,” Carson murmured. “I’m very sorry…I was a complete idiot.”
