The bell chimed over the door. Andy’s scent washed over Dustin like a cool breeze. Once upon a time, the breeze had soothed him, despite the sharp bite of predator energy; now the fox shifter’s metamorphic ambiance chilled him to the bone.
“Reynard,” he murmured the moment the tall blond entered the examining room Dustin was preparing for the day. He dipped his head slightly in reverence for a leader, using the formal title.
“Jack.” Andy mirrored the gesture. “How’s it going? I haven’t talked to you much since Irene’s memorial service.”
“I’m fine, thanks, and hanging in there. She was a good lady. I miss her.” Even after two years, greeting Andy with formality and not a kiss—or more, given the time remaining before work—struck him as unnatural. Once upon a time, they’d lived for stolen moments spent together, no matter where or when. Ah, the memories they’d created in the room marked “Storage.”
“We all do. She brought stability to the town. I wonder how we’ll manage without her.”
Dustin heard the unasked questions, but had no clue how to answer. A few years ago, the resident fox skulk, only allowed into town by Irene’s good graces, fell into chaos with the unexpected demise of its Reynard. The subsequent rise of a good-hearted but feeble replacement had led to a bloody and painful fight. Although Andy assuming control had brought the battle to a screeching halt, lives were lost, and sacrifices made. Dustin had been Andy’s sacrifice. The foxes might have eventually accepted their leader’s choice of a male mate, but not an interspecies one. They certainly hadn’t approved of the former Reynard’s coyote-shifter lover. A female vixen of good family had solidified their support of Andy. Dustin hated politics. He’d love to hate Andy’s wife too, but she’d never given him a reason. Damn it.
Seeking to fill an awkward silence, he asked, “How’s Roxanne?”
“Fine.” Andy flashed a nervous grin. “Anxious to get it over with. The morning sickness is making her a little crazy. Look, have you got a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
Dustin braced himself for bad news. It wasn’t like Andy to not simply blurt whatever came to mind. They’d once shared everything.Stop it, Dustin. Move the fuck on!“Sure,” he pushed out around a lump of uncertainty lodged in his throat.
Andy rammed both hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels while staring at the floor. “Roxie and I discussed it, and well, we want to name one of the boys after you.”
A slap to the face couldn’t have surprised Dustin more. “You want to name your son for me? Jesus, man, why don’t you stick a knife in me? Did you ever bother to tell your wife what we once were to each other?”
Andy scrubbed a hand through his wheat-colored mane. Normally bound in a tail at the nape of his neck, now the long strands swished loose across his shoulders. Dustin used to love to run his fingers through the lush mass, using the silken strands to guide Andy’s head. “I’ve told her, and she understands. She fooled around with girls in college—one of the reasons I found her attractive. Roxanne doesn’t have a judgmental bone in her body.” Andy took two long strides, placing him close enough to reach out and touch, but neither man did.
Essence of Andy invaded every pore, creating a steady ache in both Dustin’s heart and groin. Andy raised his hand, then dropped it to his side again without actually making contact with Dustin’s cheek. “We want to show our support of your claim. The skulk openly backing you will make critics think twice about a challenge.”
Oh. Politics again. “I don’t want this,” Dustin wrenched out from between clenched teeth. “I never wanted it.”
“And neither did I. You gotta believe me.” Their eyes met. Old feelings lingered in Andy’s baby blues, not that he’d act on them. His sense of honor was the thing Dustin had first noticed about the man, back when Andy’s cousin had lost control of the skulk and wound up getting run out of town. Andy managed a shy half smile. “I never would have given you up if it wasn’t necessary to prevent bloodshed.”
“I don’t know. We had our moments, but let’s not kid ourselves. It wouldn’t have lasted. You’ve always wanted a family, and your attraction is pretty evenly divided between men and women. Your route isn’t an option for me, not a satisfying one, anyway.” While Dustin wouldn’t mind a few kids, whenever he visualized his future, it didn’t include a wife. A husband, maybe, but not a wife.
“Yeah, that much I’ll give you. But, damn, wasn’t it good while it lasted?” Andy leaned down to peer into Dustin’s eyes, a mischievous smile playing across his lips, which coaxed a laugh out of Dustin.
“Even if I do take over, it won’t be permanent. Sooner or later, succession will have to be arranged. I’ll have to pass the torch eventually.”
“Pick someone, or adopt a child.”
“I’m not sure the passel would accept someone who wasn’t blood kin.” This time Andy did lightly stroke Dustin’s cheek with a callused hand. Dustin leaned into the contact, sighing.
“If you can fill Irene’s shoes, nobody, and I mean nobody, will back anyone else’s claim. Irene naming you personally for the honor holds a lot of weight.” Andy jabbed a finger at Dustin’s chest. “The old lady chose you for a reason.”
Which didn’t make the unwanted burden any lighter. Dustin’s drive not to disappoint Irene and his need to keep peace in the town plagued his every waking moment. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“The skulk is behind you. Every last one of us.”
Reminded of how their exchange started, Dustin asked, “Is showing your support the only reason you want to name your kit after me?”
Crimson colored Andy’s tanned cheeks. “Um… that, and it rhymes with ‘Justin’, the other twin.”
They shared a laugh, followed by a huffed, “Women!” from them both. They stood quietly for some time, soaking up each other’s warmth. The moment had come and gone for them. Dustin held no regrets, though he carried a tiny bit of residual love in his heart for the Reynard. They’d burned brightly and hot, but for Andy, Dustin had been a passing fancy and a way for the out-of-town Reynard to gain neighborhood acceptance.
“Thanks, man,” Dustin murmured, eyes fixated on Andy’s lips.
The tip of Andy’s tongue snaked out of his mouth, leaving his lips moist and glistening. Dustin dropped his gaze, knowing better than to entertain dangerous thoughts. “Don’t mention it.”
He closed his eyes against the pain of the man’s departure, only opening them again upon the bell chiming at Andy’s exit. Dustin let out the breath he’d been holding. Close, very close. And yet still so far away.
SETHfired up his laptop, eager for news for the outside world. He clicked on one of his favorite sites, only to receive the message, “You are not connected to the Internet.” What the fuck? Hadn’t people in this godforsaken corner of the country heard of Wi-Max?
