4. Gage

CHAPTER 4

GAGE

G age jotted down new ideas for special events that had occurred to him on his morning run. RPG Night was a big winner, and he thought the library book club would be popular during the winter months. Board games on another evening might attract a different group of people, and themed party nights for holidays with seasonal flavors, special appetizers, and decorations had also been well-received and could be expanded.

He had worked out a deal with several local musicians to rotate through the weekends and wanted to test out occasional craft nights for people who liked to knit or do puzzles. Ask A Brewer Q not wanting the distraction while building the taproom took his full concentration.

It’s good you’re so pretty, because you can be slow, his Malinois replied in a long-suffering tone.

Hey. I’m you. So if I’m slow, so are you.

I’m also very pretty, his shifter asserted.

You didn’t answer. Do you think Scott wants more than a one-night stand? I don’t even know if he’s planning to stay in Fox Hollow. He never did answer my question about why he’s here. Gage hadn’t realized until he walked away that Scott didn’t offer a reply.

It’s probably something boring and he didn’t think you’d be interested.

Maybe he’s undercover with the ABC. The state’s beverage control sometimes sent agents to make sure bars were complying with the law, not serving minors, and avoiding overserving. He could be a spy. I didn’t even get his last name.

We are going to have dinner with him. You can find out more then. All that matters is that he liked and desired us. The nose knows, his Mal said with a confidence Gage didn’t entirely feel.

If he isn’t a shifter, we’ll have to have the talk. There’s no telling how that will go, Gage warned his other half.

He’s our mate. It will be all right. And he has something special to him too.

You felt that? Gage asked.

Magic of some sort. We are magic too. See—it’s fate.

You’re a hopeless romantic, Gage accused affectionately. He was extremely fond of his Malinois and knew that under the rough-tough first impression, he was really a big softie.

We need to stop sleeping alone. That’s practical, not just romantic.

Sure thing, tough guy. Your secret is safe with me, Gage teased.

Gage ate breakfast and drove to a new section of Fox Hollow Park, where a flatbed truck held new trees in root balls to plant before the weather turned cold.

“Glad you made it, Gage,” his friend Matt hailed him. “I just finished marking where the trees will go. You’re doing me a big solid, helping out like this.”

“Happy to help—and you’re giving me a chance to dig without getting in trouble. How deep do you want me to go?”

Gage stepped behind the open door to his truck to shed his clothes and make the change, nudging the door shut with his nose as his Malinois.

“Stop before you get to China.” Matt laughed. “For real? About as deep as your shoulders.”

Gage gave an abrupt nod to show he understood, followed by a sharp bark.

“Go get ’em,” Matt encouraged.

Gage bounded off, giving in to the sensory overload of smells and textures. He chased a bug, sniffed a particularly interesting plant, and ran zoomies around the cleared area several times before getting down to business.

He set off at a run, heading for the first marked area like it was a timed competition. In each spot where Matt wanted a hole, four stakes marked the sides. Gage picked one spot and started digging, sending the dirt flying, lost in the sheer joy of movement.

The ground was still moist from a recent rain. Gage’s big paws and strong muscles made it easy, and he loved the feel and smell of wet earth. When he was digging, Gage let his human worries fade to the back of his mind. In the excitement of excavating, he unearthed rocks and worms and tossed them into the air as he cleared more space.

It didn’t take long until he had opened a hole wide enough for him to sit in and up to his dog shoulders. He gave a sharp bark, leaped out, and headed for the next marked area.

“Great job, Gage!” Matt called out. He supervised from several feet away where he leaned on a small backhoe to smooth out the sides of the holes and get them ready for planting.

By the time Gage finished the spots for the other trees, he was covered in mud. He shook off, sending larger clods flying, then padded up to Matt with a big grin of satisfaction.

“Wow. That was awesome. And the ground around the holes isn’t torn up from the backhoe tread. Thank you.”

Gage barked twice in enthusiastic agreement, then turned in circles, hoping Matt got his message.

“You want me to hose you off? Come over to the side of the bathroom building where the hose is,” Matt told him. “I’m going to get your clothes for afterward.”

Gage padded over to wait by the hose. Matt set his clothes where they wouldn’t get wet.

“As soon as you’re not a muddy mess, I’ll take the stack into the bathroom and you can change in one of the stalls. There’s a towel too,” Matt assured him.

Gage barked his thanks. Matt turned the hose on him, and Gage leaped and spun, playing in the stream as much as he bathed. Matt laughed, making it a game to catch Gage with the water as Gage dodged and bounded. Since he was a full-grown Malinois, he could jump to be at eye level with his friend.

Finally, he settled and let Matt thoroughly spray him off, removing the last of the mud. Matt stood back as Gage shook off again, sending water everywhere.

“Go change. You’re a menace,” Matt joked.

Gage intentionally shook a little near his friend in response. Matt grumbled, but there was no heat behind his words.

The hose had taken off the worst of the dirt, but Gage intended to shower once he got home—especially if there was a chance he and Scott might take things further between them than the last time.

He daydreamed as he dressed, thinking about the chemistry he sensed between them at the taproom and the certainty of his Mal that they were mates.

Of course I’m certain. I’m your better half, his Mal asserted with confidence.

Don’t start that again, Gage protested, but affection colored his tone. This was an old sparring match with his shifter side.

I’m faster, I can bite harder, and I jump higher, his Malinois challenged.

I can drive a car, read a book, and get money out of an ATM to buy food, Gage pointed out.

Valid. But I can run faster, know what’s going on in the forest from the scents, and hunt dinner if I had to.

We still don’t know if Scott has anything supernatural about him besides maybe some psychic stuff. He might not react well when he finds out you and I are a package deal, Gage warned.

How could anyone not be impressed by our awesomeness? his Mal responded, but Gage heard a note of hurt.

Hey, don’t get mopy.

I don’t mope.

You totally do, Gage countered. Remember the time we were going to get ice cream, and the truck was gone when we went for cones? You moped all evening.

That was different. I’d been looking forward to that all day, his Mal sulked. And a mate is not ice cream. He wouldn’t smell like mate if he weren’t.

Gage understood his dog’s worry. Being a shifter didn’t come with a user manual, and while Fox Hollow was much better than most places for supernatural creatures, there weren’t how-to classes he had ever heard of. He had picked up the essentials from his parents and watched his older brothers figure out their other half, but no one had covered things like falling in love with a non-shifter or how to explain to a mundane.

As far as I can tell, he’s very interested in us that way. Definitely boyfriend material. And tonight maybe we’ll take things further and figure out more about us.

What’s to figure out? Mate.

Gage knew his Mal was being intentionally stubborn, but he let him have his moment. It was how his other half sorted out feelings and figured his way through problems, and Gage was used to the grumpiness.

Don’t you remember the TV shows? Even humans take time to catch on about falling in love.

I always figured that was exaggerated to make shifters feel better, his dog grumped.

Newsflash, clueless—those shows are written for humans. That’s really how they are. Well, maybe not always quite so dramatic, but more true than not.

Gage had spent his life observing and learning about the non-shifters around him. Part of that came from wanting to blend in, but he had also been curious about the differences and similarities.

Mixed marriages were fairly rare and sometimes frowned upon, but not unknown. Scott knew couples in town that were a mix of human and shifter or psychic and nil. While many people with supernatural abilities tended to marry someone with similar gifts, there was plenty of evidence that wanting the relationship badly enough could overcome the difficulties.

Before he moved to Fox Hollow, Gage had been surrounded by regular people without special gifts. He didn’t know how they managed.

When he got home, Gage cleaned up the house in case he could get Scott to come back with him. He took a shower, getting the last grit out from beneath his nails and washing away the rain and sweat. He used his best-smelling shampoo and made sure to manscape, hoping for the best.

He chose a black V-neck shirt that went well with his hair and a pair of jeans that showed off his muscular legs and fine ass. Gage couldn’t help turning sideways in the mirror to check himself out.

You look pretty good—although your ears are a little small, his Mal snarked.

Bite me.

Malinois had large, pointy ears that seemed a little too big for their heads. Gage thought his dog side was handsome, but they often joked about the ears.

Gage blew out a deep breath, trying not to be nervous. I already know we have chemistry. We like each other, and we’ve flirted. I’m fine if we don’t go any farther tonight—there’s no rush.

Or is there? I don’t really know anything about what brought him to town. He dodged a real answer. Is he with the government? Law enforcement? Ohh…maybe he’s a spy. Spies are sexy. But they aren’t really marriage material.

Gage didn’t just want a hot couple of nights. He was ready to settle down and find his forever man. So was his Mal—who seemed convinced that Scott was his fated mate.

Does Scott feel that too? If not, is the mate bond real? And if he doesn’t pick up on something like that, how could I ever convince him without sounding nuts?

Gage shook his head to clear it, resolving to take things one day at a time.

I can’t make this happen faster than it’s going to on its own. Pushing won’t help. But I sure wish we could skip to the good part where we fall in love and get our happily ever after.