Grayslake: More than Mated: UnBearable Secrets (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Olivia

As Olivia finished getting dressed, there was a knock at the door. “At least someone around here knows how to knock,” she said aloud.

As she pulled open the door she saw Lucy's smiling face back at her. She had a little twitch next to her right eye—clearly something was bothering her. “I'm here to apologize. I heard that you had an unfortunate interaction with our handyman Sam. I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight, to make up for his mistake. I hope that this won’t affect your review.”

So Sam had spilled the beans. Olivia wouldn't have to cover for him later, good. Though looking at Lucy's strained expression, Olivia felt sorry for him too. He had clearly gotten in a heap of trouble about it. “Dinner would actually be great. I'm starving and I have no idea what's available in town.”

Lucy clapped her hands together in front of her chest. “Wonderful, I'm making chicken Alfredo. Does that sound good to you?”

Olivia nodded. “Sure. Will I be dining alone?”

Lucy tapped on her chin for a moment. “I think the Winterbournes might be joining you. But you’ll have your own table of course, as private as you would like. Or I can even deliver room service.”

Olivia shook her head. “The dining room is fine, Lucy, thank you. And really, the whole thing with Sam before was just a misunderstanding. I hope he didn’t get into much trouble for it.”

“Then I will see you in the dining room in about an hour?”

Olivia noticed how she had specifically excluded the part about Sam from her response. “Wonderful. See you in an hour.”

Lucy waved as she left and Olivia closed the door behind her. She made her way over to her suitcase and began to put some of her items into the dresser located across from the bed. As she pulled out a dark purple sundress, she realized that maybe her shorts and T-shirt weren’t appropriate for dinner. She slipped into the dress and decided to take a blow dryer to her hair. She wasn’t trying too hard, but just in case a certain handyman was also around for dinner, she wanted to make sure he saw her with clothes on.

When Olivia arrived down at dinner, the Winterbournes were already seated. She assumed that they were the older touristy couple who were sitting in the middle of the dining room. They waved to her and asked her where she was from, but she hated that part about bed-and-breakfasts, the chitchat. She quickly answered the questions but didn't ask them anything about themselves and scoped out the table situation. There was only one table far enough away from them to not continue the conversation, and it already had an occupant. Sam sat at the table poring over a book, flipping through the pages furiously. She sighed heavily before waving to the Winterbournes and pulled out the chair across from Sam. He didn't look up.

“Reading something vastly interesting?”

Suddenly Sam's eyes darted up, resting right on her breasts.

“I'm up here. Eyes up here. Now what’s so great about that book?”

“I saw you naked.”

Olivia nodded. “You sure did.”

Sam closed the book in front of him and slid it off the table. She thought she heard him set it on the floor. The handyman was hiding something. “I saw you naked and I didn't even apologize. I'm really sorry about bursting into the bathroom like that. And once I was in there, not having any idea what to do.”

Olivia laughed. “You have no idea what to do with a naked woman in a bathtub?”

A growl whispered across the table. “I know exactly what to do with a naked woman in a bathtub, I just didn't know what to do with
you
.”

“What does that make me?”

Sam shook his head, his blonde hair shifting back and forth with his movements. “That makes you a stranger. You're clearly not from around here, are you?”

Olivia evaded the question; she wasn't ready to talk about home, about why she was here. “You're right, I'm not. Just a little vacation. What about you? Born and raised?”

Sam took his fingers and pulled them through his mane. “Not me. You can’t tell by the accent?”

“You have a southern drawl, we’re in Georgia. No, I couldn't tell.”

“I'm from Louisiana. Just north of New Orleans.”

“Mardi Gras, fun.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So what brings you here? I mean, why Grayslake?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “A vacation, just like you. I've been traveling a lot lately, so I needed a job to make up for a little bit of the cash I’ve been losing. Lucy here was kind enough to offer me one.”

“She seems… interesting,” Olivia admitted.

“Interesting is one way to put it. Kind is another.”

Olivia set her lips into a thin line while she fingered the tablecloth in front of her. Each one was a different color, another of those cutesy things that they only did in bed-and-breakfasts. Luckily, this one didn't have flowers.

“So do you always eat by yourself? This is a pretty dark corner to read.”

“I'm not a guest. I'm a hired hand. I always eat by myself. And usually there aren't any other guests for dinner. Actually, there's hardly any guests at all.”

“Why?”

“Think about where you are, Olivia. Grayslake isn't really a tourist stop. Not even for those who are like us.”

Olivia sucked in a breath. She hadn't realized that he was a shifter. She certainly should have—his large size should've given it away immediately, except she was too busy thinking about what was underneath his clothes to notice. “Like us? I guess you have me all figured out then.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Not quite. But I think I might like to.”

Olivia began chewing on her lower lip, a nervous quality that her mother always scolded her for, as Lucy bustled out of the swinging door from the kitchen and delivered their food.

“You two… are sitting together?”

Sam beamed at Lucy. “It seems that way. Dinner looks amazing, Lucy, thank you.”

Olivia could smell exactly why Sam had such a fondness for Lucy. The Alfredo sauce wafted into her nose and gave her all the tingly good feelings about food that she loved. “That smells awesome!”

Lucy set the pasta down in front of them. The delicate China pattern was light blue and white. She certainly had an eclectic taste.

“Well, I hope you two enjoy,” Lucy said hesitantly. “Be nice to our guest here, Sam, maybe show her around the downtown later.”

Sam nodded as he twirled some linguine on his fork. “I think that could be arranged.”

Lucy smiled and walked away as Sam stared into what Olivia felt was her soul. What was it about this guy? Why did he make her feel so crazy?

Chapter Three

Sam

Sam stared across the table at the girl in front of him. She had on this perfectly form fitting purple dress that made his cock stir in his pants. But of course, she had interrupted a deep train of thought, so as he lifted his eyes, she had caught him staring at her breasts. She was always catching him doing things he wasn't supposed to be doing.

Like reading the book, for example. He was studying werebear law. Trying to figure out the best way to eventually return to Louisiana, to home. But there wasn't anything in there that gave him any indication he'd ever be able to go back. His whole family history was in the book, everyone who had ever been clan chieftain. There was no information on how to take a clan back, especially when you were trying to take it from your own blood.

The history had given him some other insights into his past, though. He learned all about his mother's lineage and how her family had settled in the area nearly fifty years ago. He learned all about how they had kept their secrets from the humans so that no one would suspect them.

It made him laugh to think that the humans believed in their voodoo and vampires, but shifters were completely foreign to them. In their eyes they were just mystical beings that didn't exist, when the truth was he didn't know a single vampire. And most of the people who practiced voodoo were just for the tourists, but shifters were very real.

Grayslake was a perfect example of that. He knew why Olivia was here—people spoke about the different towns all over the country that accepted shifters. Where their own kind had infiltrated the police force or the mayor's office, so that they could go unnoticed.

She crossed her legs underneath the table and accidentally kicked him.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling at him through a mouthful of Alfredo.

She liked to eat. He could certainly appreciate that. Lucy’s cooking was some of the best he had ever had. He was lucky that she had taken him in. He showed up on the doorstep one day asking about a job that he had seen posted on the town's bulletin board. She eagerly offered it to him with a place to stay almost immediately. She had an air-conditioning system that wasn't running at the time and as soon as he proved that he could fix that, she was enamored with him. Sure, Lucy was a little quirky, but he didn’t mind. She was kind above all else, and to him that was the most important quality a woman could have. But as he looked at the woman across the table from him, suddenly he was thinking that her feisty nature was what drew him into her so deeply.

“Good dinner?”

She nodded as she sat her fork and spoon down. “Some people say I’m a little overzealous when I eat. And my mother says that I’m not a real lady.”

He watched as slight crimson rose in her cheeks. Damn, she was cute.

“No, I think it's great that you like to eat. When we go downtown later, I can take you to a couple of the local places I like to go.”

She picked up a fork again and began twirling the pasta on the spoon. “Places you like to go? Anyplace in particular?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Grayslake has a lot of good spots. It’s one of the reasons I like it here.”

Part of him was hoping that she would agree, maybe even let him know how long she planned on staying. But she didn’t respond. Instead, she just smiled and took another bite. Why wasn't she telling him where she was from? What was the pretty girl with the dark hair hiding from him?

Chapter Four

Olivia

“This is downtown?” Olivia said, trying not to sound as unimpressed as she was. The streetlamps were just beginning to come on around them and she noticed the temperature finally drop enough to be bearable.

“This is town. Lucy may have exaggerated a little bit when she used the term downtown.”

“How long have you been here?”

“What does that mean?”

“Well you said you’re not a local, but you’re pretty familiar with the place, so how long have you been in Grayslake?”

He studied her for a moment as they continued to walk along the sidewalk. “A couple months, I guess.”

Their hands brushed against one another as they walked side-by-side. Olivia pulled her hand away and crossed arms, pretending to be chillier than she was. “So why don’t you tell me about Louisiana? Is it this hot there too?”

“Why are you so full of questions?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “It's called making small talk. That's what civilized people do, you know?”

“But maybe I'm not civilized.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. Part of her wished that he wasn't. Part of her wanted him to pull her into one of these darkened alleyways and have his way with her. She knew hardly anything about him though, which made that whole fantasy even more alluring.

“Fine. What do you want to know about me?”

“Where are you from?”

Shit. Of course he would ask that question first. He couldn't ask what was her favorite color, or favorite food group. No, it had to be a heavily loaded question… That she had already asked him.

“Fine. New topic. What type of ice cream should I buy at that place?”

She pointed across the street at one of the only places that seemed to still be open. An ice cream parlor with a gigantic cone in front of it let her know that it was her type of place.

“Any kind you want. But I definitely suggest the salted caramel. It’s one of my favorites.”

She smiled at him and cocked her head a little. “You have a favorite ice cream?”

He scowled at her and made her giggle a little bit. “Only idiots don't have a favorite ice cream. And I didn't say that salted caramel is my favorite, just what I would recommend. They make all the ice cream themselves.”

“So there's a dairy around here?”

“Yeah, a couple towns over, what about it?”

“I was just thinking with all the… you know. People like us around, that it might be hard to keep the dairy running.”

He stopped on the sidewalk right before the crosswalk that would lead them over to the ice cream shop. “What the hell does that mean?”

Olivia was already in the middle of the crosswalk by the time she realized that Sam hadn’t followed her. “What do you mean? Come on, let's just go get some ice cream.”

“No, what did you mean? You act like we’re savage.”

“Savage?” she asked as she turned around and approached him. “We’re a bunch of bears, we’re predators,” she said as she lowered her voice to a whisper. A young family passed by them pushing a stroller and she smiled weakly. They weren’t really talking about this here, not out in the open.

“Listen, I'm sorry if I offended you or something, but I just really want to get some ice cream.”

“I just don't like the assumption that we can't contain ourselves. I don't know about you, but I have my bear completely in check.”

Clearly she had pushed a button that she wasn't supposed to. Sam's chest was heaving and his eyes turned a familiar black. She knew what was coming. “If that's so true, then why are your eyes turning colors right now? Colors that signify a certain change.”

Sam shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. Whatever she had set off in him, she regretted it. She put her hand on his enormous bicep and tried to calm him. “Listen, I'm sorry, okay? Can we please just go get some ice cream now?”

He nodded slowly, opening his eyes, and they returned to the dark brown Olivia had become accustomed to seeing.

“I just don't want that to be anything I'm ever known for.”

As the light changed again they crossed the street, this time walking next to one another.

“Why is that? Usually guys want to be all big and burly and the protective type. What's your deal?”

“I'm fine with being protective. Burly is an interesting way to describe a guy, but a savage beast is a real punch in the gut for me. I'm not savage.”

He said it like he knew someone who was. Olivia decided not to pry any further; whatever Sam was hiding underneath that tough exterior was something that could wait. A level of honesty that could be reached
after
ice cream.

“So salted caramel still?”

“Actually, you seem more like a mint chocolate chip girl to me.”

He opened the door for her and she heard the bell go off above them. The place was busy, but not packed; they would have to wait for just a few minutes. “Mint chocolate chip?”

“Yeah, mint chocolate chip. Something unexpected with a little bit of a chill. And somehow refreshing at the same time.”

“Are you calling me cold?”

“I also called you refreshing.”

So she was cold but refreshing. Sam certainly had a way of making her feel like her head was spinning. And as the girl behind the counter took their order and he chose a banana split, she realized maybe he was the one who was unexpected and refreshing, and exactly what she needed.