3. Deirdre

3

DEIRDRE

D eirdre watched Dean's face as she spoke and saw the exact moment that she broke his heart.

How could she do this?

How could she bear to hurt this good, decent, deserving man?

She'd thought about not telling Dean, simply lying by omission. There was only a slim chance she'd ever see her mate again, and she had already decided that she wouldn't try to. But she knew as soon as Dean came into the house hauling a half-drunk dog that it wasn't the kind of thing she could keep from him, however hard she tried.

"You don't have to worry," Deirdre blurted. "It doesn't mean anything. I don't know who he was, and I never will. I married you. You're my husband ."

A husband isn't a mate , her deer said with absolute certainty.

Deirdre felt like she was being torn into parts, like the air she was trying to breathe was too thin. "I'm not leaving you."

"Your mate ," Dean said in pain and astonishment, and Deirdre hated knowing that she'd caused that betrayed look in his face. "You actually mean that." His voice was rough with emotion, but not angry.

They had jested about being mates so many times, faking Australian accents and pirate jive. It was an inside joke, because mates couldn't possibly be real.

But there was nothing funny about it now, and Deirdre didn't know how anything could ever be funny again.

Our mate will make us laugh , her deer said, full of lazy contentment that was a complete contrast to Deirdre's gut-clenching misery.

"I didn't think it was real, but I can't— I mean…" Deirdre fluttered her hands desperately, and Dean reached for them. Neither of them cared about the soap and grime on his hands, or the fact that the water was still running in the sink. "It was unmistakable. Like the stories."

Dean folded her into a familiar embrace and Deirdre could tell his chest what she couldn't tell his face. "I saw him and it wasn't like lightning, it was just this shivering certainty. Like when you get that piece you've been waiting for in Tetris and all the bricks vanish."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know," Deirdre whispered, and she hated the way her body responded to the memory of him, handsome and strange, with his dark hair and olive skin. He was everything she'd never known she wanted. "Just a guy trying to buy some gloves. I ran out. I didn't say anything to him, and I won't. I didn't lock up the store and I didn't close out the cashbox. If the store gets robbed, it will be my fault. I just went and got Aaron from Andrea early and came straight home."

"It's probably fine. Not a high incidence of theft in Green Valley," Dean said. He was rubbing her back in that perfect way he always did, strong and practical. No matter what they went through, no matter how hard things got between them, or how thinly they got stretched by parenthood, he always found a way to comfort her, and Deirdre went limp in his arms, soaking up all the solace he selflessly offered her.

He was her best friend; they'd known each other since they were children learning about shifting together. He knew all her secrets, all her flaws and dreams and regrets. She could not hurt this dear, dear man and she had every intention of doing what she said and staying with him…until he bent to kiss her.

For them, it was a very chaste kiss, just a brush of his mouth at her forehead, and Deirdre went stiff in his arms because nothing had ever felt so wrong.

Not our mate , her deer said with a sniff.

Dean was not oblivious to her reaction, and he let go of her carefully and then cursed as he stepped back and stumbled over the dog he'd forgotten behind him.

That precipitated a loud yelp and a scramble as the ugly, bedraggled dog tried to get to its feet and utterly failed, instead sprawling out with all four limbs.

Deirdre grabbed for Dean, who grabbed back, and shifter reflexes kept them both from falling.

There was a wail from upstairs when the commotion woke Aaron and they both froze. The dog, not at all understanding their sudden desire for quiet, managed to get to his feet and stomp-click-click-click-stomp eagerly around the small kitchen, ricocheting into cabinets and finally getting his cone stuck between the legs of one of the chairs, whimpering and dragging it around with him until Deirdre knelt to free him, shushing him.

She was rewarded with eager dog kisses, hampered by the cone and cast, and rapid tail wags. Whatever else he was, he did seem like a very sweet-natured dog. Dean finally turned off the water.

Upstairs, Aaron quieted quickly despite the noise. Deirdre and Dean breathed twin breaths of relief. Getting Aaron down could be an impossible task, and it was often worse if he woke up after sleeping a short time.

Dean put the chair back where it belonged and sat down opposite Deirdre, the dog between them trying desperately to see both of them and bonking his cone on knees and chairs and cabinets.

"He's not that bright," Dean said apologetically. "It looks like he tried to drown himself before he went to play in traffic, and he doesn't seem afraid of my bear in the slightest." Dean had always had a hard time with livestock. They could sense his animal nature and were skittish with him. He'd been banned from more than one family farm. They had always joked together that he was predator and she was prey and it was a minor miracle they got on as well as they did.

It didn't seem humorous now.

Deirdre found herself wondering what the man with no name was, if he was a shifter. His look of recognition suggested he was. He could be anything. Something strong and graceful. His eyes were like liquid gold…

"No," she said out loud, shaking her head. She was staying with Dean. Dean didn't deserve to be ditched, and anyway, she had to keep the family together for Aaron. She wasn't going to think about some other man's lean body and big hands. She wasn't going to imagine him taking off his shirt…taking off her shirt. "No," she repeated. It helped to have the dog to pet, and he flopped back over on his side after a few moments. His tail wagging slowed.

"We don't have to keep him," Dean said grimly.

Deirdre wasn't sure he was talking about the dog. " He'll need a name," she said. He didn't mind her playing with his feet.

"Deirdre."

"Nothing is going to change," she said fiercely. "This doesn't change anything ."

But even as she said it, she knew it was going to change everything.