Authors: Danica Avet
But before Monk could leap across the distance between him
and his prey, Mr. Fourchier appeared at his side with a loud laugh. He grabbed
the mic from Monk’s weak grasp.
“As y’all can see, Monk is very excited about the changes to
come. If you have any concerns, don’t hesitate to contact your parish
councilman. We all need to work together if we’re going to attain the goals we
have for our lovely parish.” He nudged Monk to the side. “And now for the video
we’re all excited to see. Someone get the lights please!”
Monk was still glaring at Nick who’d tickled Kitty awake by
digging his fingers into her ribs. He took a step forward, determined to tear
the bastard apart, except Mr. Fourchier grabbed his arm and tugged him off to
the side where the parish officials sat to watch the video. He could have
broken away from the older man’s hold, but even cougars couldn’t overpower a
fully grown boar shifter when they were determined.
Vowing to catch up with the Goddamn bear-stealing tiger
after the assembly, Monk sat where he was directed and crossed his arms over
his chest to stare at Kitty and Nick. She’d fallen asleep during his speech,
she’d let some tiger provide a resting place for her, and now she ignored him
as though he didn’t exist. Kitty Chambers was in a lot of fucking trouble when
he got his hands on her.
* * * * *
Kitty pressed one of her knuckles into Nick’s ribs,
eliciting a strangled scream out of him. “That’s what you get for tickling me,”
she muttered under her breath as the lights in the gym dimmed.
“You were sleeping,” he protested, rubbing his ribs with a
wince. “Damn, woman, you have the boniest fucking knuckles!”
She didn’t deign to answer him, mostly because she hadn’t
been sleeping. She’d been trying to pretend she didn’t exist, that she wasn’t
here listening to her first love—a.k.a the fucker—rave about something that was
amazingly perceptive. In the years since she left Maison Rouge, Kitty had done
her best not to think about Monk, but when she did, it was with the hopes that
he’d become an overweight, henpecked shifter with a bad case of fleas who had
resorted to speaking in grunts. It just wasn’t fair that he’d turned out to be
something so much better.
His plan, and she knew it was his alone, was thoughtful and
practical. With her eyes closed, she could almost see the future Monk
envisioned for Pointe-Aux-Chat. It would be a place where tourists, of the
shifter and human variety, could learn more about the Cajun culture, enjoy
Cajun food—something she’d dearly missed while living in New York—and help
provide jobs for the community. It was a brilliant plan.
Damn the bastard to hell. When had he developed a community
conscience? The signs hadn’t been there when they were younger. Other than what
he’d done to her their senior year, he’d never displayed a streak of cruelty,
but neither had he gone out of his way to help anyone. Monk had been the golden
boy, the quarterback, the one most likely to be shot by outraged fathers. He
hadn’t given a single thought to community service, yet here he was, trying to
lead Pointe-Aux-Chat into a bright, new future.
It was too bizarre to dwell on and Kitty thanked the
distraction of the video. She couldn’t help but laugh as she heard the kids in
the audience shriek when they saw themselves on television. The song was from
Saber’s latest album, one she’d listened to on the flight from New York, and
she had to admit, it was downright awesome to see shots of Maison Rouge
interspersed with feed from the show the band had performed at the festival.
“Oh my God,” Daisy moaned as the camera zoomed in on her
standing at the front of the stage in her uniform.
Kitty laughed out loud at her cousin’s dismay, especially
when Ram whispered loudly, “You looked hot.”
The picture went to a broader view of the fairgrounds and
she caught a glimpse of a solitary figure standing next to the food stands. Her
heart leapt as she recognized Monk. She chanced a quick glance over to the
seats where the community leaders sat and quickly averted her gaze.
Monk was staring at her. Hard. Even in the flickering lights
coming from the screen in front of them, she’d seen the way his green eyes
glittered dangerously. She frowned at the images in front of her, trying to
figure out what she could have done to piss him off. Breathe maybe? Did he hate
her so much after all this time? Kitty ignored the pang in her chest at the
thought. It didn’t matter how he felt about her. They would have no reason to
see each other after tonight and if she had her way, she wouldn’t come in
contact with him at all while she was home.
The video ended with a thank you from the band to the people
of Maison Rouge for their warm hospitality. The kids in the crowd, hyped up
after seeing themselves on television, screamed again, kept in their seats by
the deputies standing on the floor. Kitty couldn’t help but smile at their
antics as they chanted, “Saber, Saber, Saber” while stomping their feet. She
remembered many concerts she and Daisy had gone to in their misguided youth
when they’d been just as rabid for their favorite bands.
Mr. Fourchier stepped up to the center of attention again
and held his hands up for silence. It didn’t work. He spoke into the
microphone, trying to speak over the kids and finally gave up after a good five
minutes. He looked over at Ram with a helpless shrug.
The lion shifter lead singer stood and motioned for the
other guys in the band to join him in the front of the crowd. The kids’ screams
became wilder, shriller as their idols waved at them. Kitty glanced over at
Daisy who was beaming at her mate, pride shining in her eyes. It was a great
look for her cousin and she wished them all the happiness in the world, except
Kitty couldn’t completely stifle the kernel of jealousy she felt at seeing the
love evident between the newly mated couple.
She gave a mental headshake. She’d long given up on meeting
a male she could trust with her heart again. The pain of Monk’s betrayal had
scarred her and prevented her from getting close to anyone, even sexually, for
a long time. One day, after several months of dodging phone calls and surprise
visits and flowers and candy, she’d finally caved and agreed to go on a date
with a wolf shifter who’d worked as a hair stylist for one of her first runway
shows. He’d seemed harmless enough and part of her figured he just wanted to
get his hands on her hair, but as it turned out, they’d become good friends and
even better lovers. They’d broken their sexual relationship off when Colby met
his mate, but they remained good friends. He’d helped Kitty get over a lot of
her issues simply by explaining it wasn’t her fault her first love had been a
fucked-up hick.
Now, years later, Kitty reveled in her sexual appeal. She’d
had several lovers, some human, some shifters, but they’d all been friends she
stayed in touch with. They’d become extended family. There was no jealousy or
hurt feelings when the sex ended because they all knew it wasn’t going to last.
It suited her hectic life, although part of her, a very small part of her,
still wished to find someone who could pierce through the shields she built up
after Monk.
Looking at Daisy go all soft and glowy for Ram, Kitty
thought it might be possible for her.
Maybe one day when I’m not trying to
make my mark on the fashion world.
She sighed softly, but smiled when her
cousin looked her way questioningly. One day.
Once the band gave their thanks to the audience and talked a
bit about their plans to lure more musicians to the area, they promised to
stick around for autographs after the assembly was over. The crowd settled down
again and Mr. Fourchier returned to the front of the gym.
“It’s time for the most important part of tonight’s
gathering. I’m pleased to welcome Ramsey and the other members of Saber to our
community and I hope they’ll learn to love it as much as we do. It’s always
exciting to have celebrities in our midst, but it’s even more exciting when
they’re one of our very own.” His small blue eyes zeroed in on Kitty who froze
like a deer in headlights. “Kitty Chambers graduated from Pointe-Aux-Chat High
School. She probably sat in this very gym at one point as bored as you students
are now. But Kitty had a dream.” He looked somewhere over her head and nodded.
The lights went down and the big screen lit up again. This
time though, it showed her high school graduation picture. A voice started
speaking over the montage of pictures from her childhood. She recognized that
voice as belonging to the back-stabbing bear sitting next to her. Kitty almost
slid from her chair in mortification, but Daisy wouldn’t let her go.
“I’m going to kill you,” she whispered to her cousin, her
bear not liking this any more than she did. “I’m going to skin you al—”
She lost all capacity for speech because there, on the huge
television, was the picture she’d had in her locker of her and Monk. Her
stomach flipped upside down. She’d thought that picture long gone. Her gaze
skittered over to the male who shared the screen with her to see he still
watched her, although this time he didn’t look pissed. Movement to the side of
him drew her attention and she stiffened at the sight of Callie Hebert sitting
next to Monk. As though they were a couple. Still. She glanced back at Monk,
but he didn’t even pay Callie any heed.
Kitty looked away again because—God the expression on his
face fucked her up emotionally. As if he were proud of her or something, but
why should he even fucking care?
She breathed a sigh of relief as the picture slideshow moved
beyond her high-school years to her life in New York. She frowned. Some of
those pictures had been taken backstage at runway shows, or at private cocktail
parties.
“How?” she asked Daisy in a low voice.
“I called your friends and they sent me what pictures they
had of you,” Daisy whispered. “Girl, I had
no
idea you’d dated Steven
Hains. Why didn’t you tell me? Do you still talk to him? Can you get me an
auto—?”
A big hand clamped over Daisy’s mouth, interrupting her
whispered gushing. “Let’s not talk about other males while you’re sitting next
to me, baby,” Ram said to his mate before hauling her tight against him.
Still not liking becoming the focus of attention, Kitty
squirmed as the narration continued, outlining the awards she’d won, the
celebrities who wore her designs, and the fact that she was one of the few
designers who made clothing strictly for shifters. She couldn’t help but preen
at that last part. She took great pride in knowing all of her designs were
shifter-friendly, meaning they were easy to get out of when shapeshifting from
human to beast. It’d taken her years of experimenting with seams and draping
before she perfected her art.
“Her designs have been featured in industry magazines as
well as red carpet premiers and she’s only just begun. Maison Rouge is proud to
welcome home our very own Kitty Chambers.”
Chapter Three
The lights came back up as applause broke out through the
gym. Kitty’s cheeks burned from embarrassment, but she didn’t resist when Daisy
pushed her to her feet. She hadn’t expected this at all, didn’t even want it.
But then she made the mistake of glancing over at her parents. Her mama had
tears streaming down her face and her dad, always so stoic, looked as though he
was about to explode from pride.
Straightening her shoulders, she stood tall and plastered a
fake smile on her face as Mr. Fourchier approached with the microphone and a
massive key in his hands.
Oh God, someone shoot me.
This was just too
fucking bizarre.
“On behalf of the Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish government, I’d
like to present Kitty Chambers with the key to the city of Maison Rouge. We’re
all very proud of her accomplishments and in honor of her achievements, we’ve
named tomorrow, February 16, Kitty Chambers Day!” He extended the key in her
direction.
Numb with disbelief and incredulity, Kitty accepted the
heavy brass key. She stared at it long and hard since she’d never actually seen
one of them in person. It was inscribed with the words,
Presented on this
15th day of February, 2012 to Kitty Chambers in honor of her achievements. The
people of Pointe-Aux-Chat are proud to call you our own.
She barely had time to marvel at the thing before something
else was thrust in front of her face. The microphone. Startled, she shook her
head at Mr. Fourchier, who only smiled brightly and grabbed her hand to haul
her in front of the big screen. Damn boar shifters.
Oh God, oh God.
She’d talked in front of the toughest
crowds during fashion week, but the thought of speaking in front of her
hometown scared the ever lovin’ shit out of her. There was no time to get out
of it because the microphone was slapped in her hand and she was given a gentle
shove forward.
Heart hammering and palms sweaty, Kitty looked at the mass
of people staring at her. She’d avoided peering into the stands, but now she
had no choice. She recognized a lot of faces, although they’d changed over the
years. They weren’t baying for her blood, weren’t passing out rotten vegetables
or stones to throw. They appeared genuinely happy for her.
She cleared her throat.
Here goes nothing.
“Thank
you,” she blurted because that seemed the right thing to do. You were supposed
to start off a speech that way. Maybe she’d have to find Mrs. Simmons after the
assembly to find out how she did. “When I came home, I never expected this.”
Truth. She’d expected to be run out of the parish at the very least, burned at
the stake like Hester Prynne at the very worst. So yeah, this was a pleasant
surprise.
Movement in the front row caught her attention and she saw
her dad wrap his arm around her mom’s shoulders. Their presence steadied her.
Her voice gained strength. “Having a dream is easy. Everyone dreams of
something, whether it’s fortune or fame, but not everyone can achieve those
dreams. I’m one of the lucky few. As I’m sure the guys in the band can tell
you,” she said with a nod toward Ram, Nick, Craig, Trick and Leland, “it takes
a lot of hard work and dedication, but most of all, it takes sacrifice. I gave
up a lot to follow my dream. I left my family, my friends, and the only home
I’d ever known.” She looked over at her parents. “Success isn’t much without
those you love to share it with you. Mom, Dad, I wouldn’t have been able to do
this without your support. Thank you. I also have to thank Daisy who modeled
designs I came up with long before I knew what I was doing.” She laughed and
smiled at her cousin. “I should pay you back for this by showing the pictures I
took of you in my creations.”
Daisy’s face paled. “Don’t you dare!”
The audience laughed, some of the seriousness fading. Kitty
sighed. “Just thank y’all from the bottom of my heart.” Mr. Fourchier fidgeted,
drawing her attention. “Before I hand the mic back over, I’d like to say how
proud I am of our parish government for their proactive plans to change
Pointe-Aux-Chat. This is an amazing part of the world and it’s time we showcase
it. Thank you.”
She passed the mic and made her way back to her chair with
buckling knees. She fell onto the hard seat, not caring that it sent a spike of
pain up her tailbone. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” she muttered to
Daisy, who was grinning at her like the Cheshire cat.
“You’ll have to go through Ram to get me,” her cousin
muttered back.
Kitty rested her head on Daisy’s shoulder, loving her cousin
all the more for doing this for her. Turning the massive key over in her hands,
she mused that it eased some of her past pain to be accepted and appreciated
for her success. Her heartbreak had led to some amazing life experiences, so
maybe it hadn’t been all that bad.
Of course, that still didn’t mean she was going to forgive
Monk for it. If he even tried to talk to her as if the past never happened,
she’d have to castrate him with a very dull knife.
* * * * *
Monk leaned against the wall, watching as the townspeople
approached Kitty to hug her, shake her hand, take pictures with her, or get her
autograph. She handled everything with ease, smiling and chatting with
everyone. Even better, she seemed to be enjoying herself, pulling names out of
her impressive memory to put with the faces that must be blurring in front of
her eyes. She was simply amazing.
Nick tugged on a lock of her sleek black hair, making her
laugh and bat at him. Monk gritted his teeth. It was as though the bastard
wanted to be fed his own teeth. Every time he looked, the tiger was standing
right next to Kitty, teasing her, making her laugh, giving her what looked like
innocent touches, but every male recognized as a way of getting a female
accustomed to your hand.
“You’re such a head case,” Daisy Lynn said, coming to join
him along the wall without Monk realizing it.
He grunted at her. He and Daisy Lynn’s relationship had
improved by leaps and bounds since they’d had their forced confrontation a
couple of months before. She understood why he’d broken Kitty’s heart and he
understood she’d always take Kitty’s side of any argument. Since Monk was all
about protecting his mate, he appreciated Daisy Lynn’s stance when it came to
her cousin.
She sighed. “Look, I didn’t want to get involved in this
thing between y’all. She’s my best friend, you know? And as much as I’ve
enjoyed rekindling our friendship, she comes first.” Her words were an eerie
echo of his thoughts, something that she’d always managed to do when they were
younger.
“I know that.”
“It’s just, after talking with some of her friends in New
York when I was putting that clip together I realized Kitty has a whole life up
there. She’s happy. She misses her family, but this town holds nothing but
painful memories for her.”
Now that hurt to hear. “She hasn’t mated,” he pointed out.
“Kitty always dreamed of getting mated and married.” At least that’s what she’d
said when they were dating and talking about the future. Designing had been a
secondary dream for her then. Fuck. He’d changed her goals by forcing that
scene on her.
Daisy Lynn’s voice when she spoke again was uncommonly
gentle. “She doesn’t want that anymore, Monk. We were talking about mating and
the wedding and all she said was that she was glad she’d decided to stay
unmated so she could enjoy the single life.” The scent of her unease was sharp.
“I think she has a lot of…um, friends back home that she’s fond of.”
The cougar screamed in Monk’s mind, jealousy lending a red
cast to his vision. Without conscious thought, he pushed away from the wall and
headed in her direction. Daisy Lynn tried stopping him, but a near-silent hiss
made her back off with her hands up and a look of chagrin on her face. Yeah,
she’d opened a can of worms she probably wished she hadn’t, but Monk was
actually glad he knew about Kitty’s other male
friends
. Because he was
going to show his erstwhile mate that no one would ever love her as much as he
did.
* * * * *
Kitty couldn’t believe how normal everything seemed, well,
except for the whole
people gawking at her as if she would suddenly spout
another head
thing. She was kind of used to that anyway. She might not be a
top name in the fashion industry yet, but she’d dated a few celebrities who
were fawned over all the time. She mostly went ignored, although there were
some instances when she became the focus of attention with people wondering who
she was, why she was with so-and-so, and if she was worth asking for an
autograph.
It was a little weird to have the same people she’d feared
from high school approach with their mates and kids, boasting about who sat
next to her in English, or who was there when she tripped on the stadium
bleachers and took out the whole dance team. It was embarrassing, but in a way
she could handle. She’d forgotten about most of the things they mentioned, her
whole past seemingly wiped out once Monk pulled his bullshit, yet those were
the things her former classmates mentioned. No one even talked about them
dating. They all wanted to focus on Steve Hains, the eagle shifter movie star,
or Hank Morales, the polar bear boxer, or Ridley Scott, the golden bear shifter
rugby player.
The entire time she chatted with people, Nick refused to
leave her alone, pinching her arm, tugging at her hair or otherwise needling
her until she was laughing hysterically. There was no arousal in his scent
toward her, and despite the earlier flap where he’d breathed against her ear,
Kitty wasn’t that attracted to him. He would insert himself in the conversation
when he wasn’t besieged by rabid teenage fans, making all the women laugh and
flirt back with him.
It was embarrassing and flattering and kind of nuts, but she
loved every minute of it because the women wanted to ask her about her designs,
Daisy’s wedding gown and the runway shows. Oh, and when they’d be able to
afford her creations.
Kitty laughed. “I’ve actually been in talks with a few major
department stores. I have a line in mind that I think would be fantastic for
the everyday shifter woman, you know? I’m hoping we can wrap up talks soon and
get into production within the next two years. As soon as I know I’ll—”
A big hand wrapped around her arm and tugged her away from
the group. Heat scorched her through the material of her suit, the long-healed
mating bite on her shoulder buzzing with sudden life. Whipping her head around,
Kitty could only gape at Monk, whose gaze shot around the gym until he zeroed
in on the doors leading to the locker rooms.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice coming out high
and breathless rather than cool and demanding.
Butterflies in her belly heralded the return of an arousal
she hadn’t felt since she was seventeen. She hadn’t understood how priceless
the chemistry between her and Monk was; she thought everyone felt that way.
It’d taken her years to understand that while sex was good with other males,
with Monk it had been amazingly mind-shattering despite the slight pain of
losing her virginity.
The hallway doors leading to the locker rooms burst open
with a loud crack and slammed shut behind them. The musky scent of years of
sweat, shifters and dampness brought Kitty right back to high school. It wasn’t
dark in the hallway, but it wasn’t bright either, the outdated lights giving
off just enough of a glow that she could see the glitter in Monk’s eyes when he
turned to look at her.
Her mind told her this was not good at all, but her body
practically melted when he gave her that Alpha glare. She didn’t dig the whole
dominant-male thing. She actually liked it when she was treated as an equal,
but in this moment, with this male, she wanted to drop to her knees in
supplication and become his little sex slave.
No! Bad, Kitty. We’re not going there again. This is one
predator who’ll tear us apart and make us wish we were dead. Again.
And
then her brain had the nerve to give her a play-by-play memory of the days,
weeks and months she’d cried herself to sleep in her shoebox of an apartment in
New York from heartache and loneliness.
The memories were a much-needed reality check. Her body was
still soft and warm and ready for Monk, but Kitty had proven before that she
was stronger than her physical form. She pulled away from him, her wrist
snapping out of his hand with enough force to make him stumble a bit.
“What the
fuck
is your problem?” she asked in a voice
that was all pissed-off grizzly.
He swiped a hand over his mouth with a wince, but he didn’t
look away from her. No, Monk stood his ground just like he had that day he had
Callie Hebert’s tongue down his throat. For a moment, she held her breath, her
anger abating a little because he looked so pained and nothing like the
confident male who’d enthralled a whole gym of people with his plans for the
future. If she wasn’t mistaken, he looked…remorseful.
Then he opened his mouth. “You shouldn’t let Nick touch you
like that. He’s just trying to get you in bed.” He folded his arms over his
chest. Kitty barely refrained from gaping at him, not that Monk seemed to
notice. It seemed in fifteen years he’d turned into a preachy, self-righteous
prig who thought it was his business what and who she did. “He’s been through
nearly all the females in town. You’re fresh prey to him. It wouldn’t do your
reputation any good to be seen with him.”
That motherfucker.
Kitty had never thought she could
actually become angrier than she’d been that day fifteen years ago, but Monk
managed to push her to greater heights of emotional trauma without trying much.
The bastard.
“Do you really think so?” she asked in a purposely unsure
tone. Oh, he was going to wish he’d never opened this can of worms.