“I do too,” he said. “It’s why we built the house like this. Welcoming the sea in—though we’ve gone through a few storms in this house too, haven’t we?”
Inga laughed. “We sure have. Remember that big nor’easter when you took us kids up the hill to stay with the Sandersons because you were afraid the waves would rip the house right off its mooring posts?”
“But it didn’t, did it?” her dad said proudly. “This house has stood through some of the roughest weather the sea could throw at ‘er.”
“Not always without damage. Remember when the window broke?”
The big picture windows had heavy storm shutters, which were often kept fastened in the winter. Even so, they’d once had one of the big panes shatter, covering the couch and floor in shards of glass. Luckily it had happened at night, with all of the kids, teenagers at the time, safely in their bedrooms.
“And we fixed it, didn’t we?”
“We sure did,” Inga said.
Her dad huffed out a sigh and wrapped his hands around his nearly empty coffee cup. “I’m not going to pry into your life, Inga. You’re a grown woman, and I know you’ve been—” He made a face like a cat getting a mouthful of peanut butter.
“Having sex, Dad,” Inga said.
“Yeah. That. I won’t go giving you advice, I figure you’ve had plenty from your big brothers over the years.”
“Don’t remind me.” Inga shuddered at the recollection of a desperately embarrassed Tor trying to give her the birds-and-bees talk when she was about thirteen.
“Right. Ahem.” Her dad cleared his throat. “So I’m just gonna ask you one question.” His voice softened. “Is this Luke fellow your mate, Inga-bear?”
He hadn’t used that nickname for her in a lot of years. Inga’s first knee-jerk reaction was to flare up.This isn’t staying out of my business, Dad!
But it was a question she had been asking herself, too. She sipped at her coffee with a bite of donut, a bitter-and-sweet contrast she had always enjoyed, to give her a minute before answering.
Looking around, she noticed that with an astonishing amount of stealth for such a big dog, Rogue had ghosted over to lay on the floor beside her side of the couch. Most likely he was angling for a piece of her donut, but since she’d picked a chocolate-frosted one, she didn’t think it would be a good idea to share. Instead she put the donut on her far knee and reached down to rub Rogue’s ears, finding reassurance in the soft, thick fur.
“I wish I knew,” she said quietly. “I always thought I would be sure. It seems like that’s how it was for both of my brothers. I’ve never felt the way I do with Luke with anyone else, that’s for sure.”
“What’s your bear say?”
Inga sighed. “You know she’s never really talked to me the way your animals do with the rest of you.” She tuned inward, questioning that inner presence, and shook her head. “Whatever I’m supposed to be feeling, I just don’t. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
Her dad reached out and shook her knee, nearly dislodging the half-eaten donut. Rogue’s head snapped up, making it clear what he wasreallythere for. “Don’t ever say that about yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you, love. You just need to know, if he isn’t your mate?—”
“—There’s someone else out there for me. I know, Dad. I know how this all works.”
“Okay. So listen to your dad, if you want. But listen to your bear, and your heart, first and foremost.”
Inga picked up the donut before Rogue’s questing snout could get too close and stuffed a bite in her mouth. Her dad,she knew, had his own bitter experience with love and loss. But she also didn’t want to believe that she and Luke were doomed before they even began.
By the time she had finished her donut, however, she felt more settled within herself. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m not giving up on Luke being the one yet, either. I don’t know, maybe it feels different for me than for most shifters.”
Her dad was quiet for a moment, then spoke up abruptly. “You know who you should talk to? Go see Mace.”
“The old guy on the hill?” Inga asked dubiously. Ever since she could remember, Mace and his family had owned the big house above the village. But they had always kept themselves apart from the regular townspeople.
That had changed a little these days, now that more people were living up there, including a niece or some other relation with a spouse and a baby, and Mace’s new wife. But Inga still couldn’t imagine just going up and knocking on their door, and—what then, saying that she wanted to have a chat with the mysterious reclusive rich guy about her love life?
“I’m serious,” her dad said.
She had to laugh. “You think I should go talk to Mace MacKay about my boyfriend?”
“Just trust me. Doesn’t have to be him, could be someone else in the household that you’d rather talk to. That Jess is a nice young lady. You don’t have to. But I think the gargoyles might be able to tell you some things that’d help.”
Gargoyles .... a thread of chill shivered down her back. There were rumors in town that Mace and his family did a lot more than just carve gargoyles out of stone. But no one had ever actually seen them shift.
