4. Reylor

Chapter 4

Reylor

D ragon shifters didn’t rile easily. Fire and anger never mixed well. But when Evelyn insulted Hannah—my mate—it was over. I would’ve laid waste to the entire continent to remove the irritation from Hannah’s eyes.

“Do you think she’s been ripping up my flower beds?” Hannah frowned, clearly thinking. “You know, I could swear the writing on my front parlor mirror was lipstick, though, as I said, it was gone before I could return to wipe it off. But it was the exact same shade of red that Evelyn has worn each time I’ve seen her.”

“She wants you to sell. That’s a motive. Means? As Justin’s granddaughter, would she have a key?”

“Maybe.” Hannah worried her lower lip, staring toward the back door. “Changing the locks is one more item on my list.”

“How long’s that list?”

She sighed. “Too long. I’m working hard every day of the week. I don’t take time off for anything—”

“Not even to go out on a date?” I’d already noted she didn’t wear a ring, but not everyone did.

“I don’t date.”

“Oh?”

“I’m on a hiatus,” she said pertly. “Anyway. I’ve been working from sunup to sundown to get this place ready, though lately, I feel like I take two steps backward for each one forward.”

“Why are you on a dating hiatus?” Boundaries, Reylor, I chided myself. It wasn’t any of my business.

Except that she was my fated mate. It was all I could do not to shift into my dragon form, a part of me that was much more primal than my current form, and sweep her up and carry her to my cave where I’d add her to my hoard.

“If you must know,” she said quite primly, her back a steel pipe in her spine, “I was engaged.”

“Where is he?”

“With my former best friend. In bed, most likely.”

“Fuck him and her,” I snarled. Spikes rippled down my spine, and I had to fight off my urge to shift and find and lay waste to her ex. “I’m sorry.”

The sadness in her eyes gutted me. They’d hurt her, and she was still in pain. “Thanks. But . . .” She sucked in a breath and released it. “It’s been six months. You’d think I’d be over it by now.”

“You were engaged.” Fuck, she’d probably loved him. How could I compete with that?

“Yes. Fortunately, we were able to get most of the deposits back.”

Another money suck. Damn asshole.

“Want me to rip him apart?” I held up my hand and let my claws form. They’d grow along with my body as I shifted.

Her eyes widened, and her lips twitched. I was grateful to see the sadness leave her face. “Would you really do something like that?”

“For you? Anytime.”

“Why me?”

“Not the time, sweetheart. Not the time.”

Her face turned a lovely shade of pink, and when her equally pink tongue dipped out to touch her upper lip, it was all I could do not to groan. My damn cock had no problem perking up, stupid thing.

“What flower beds were destroyed?” I asked in a professional tone, trying to draw the stiffness out of my cock and inject it into my voice.

I wasn’t giving up on Hannah. Hell, no. But the last thing I wanted to do was cause her any more pain.

“Right. Flower beds.” She glanced toward some in bad shape on the ocean side of the big patio. “Those right there.”

I followed her over to them.

“As you can see from the dirt on the lawn between here and the retaining wall, whoever did it dragged my bushes quite a distance. I found one of my hoes near them. They’d hacked off all the blossoms. Rhododendrons aren’t that easy to grow. I replanted them right away, but the poor things might not recover. I’ll probably have to buy more.”

“You’re sure it was your hoe?”

“One of my three was missing from the shed.” Her gaze traveled to a small, yellow-painted structure nestled in the lightly wooded area on the left side of her patio.

I walked around the wooden frame, though I didn’t find any evidence, as expected. Nor on her lawn. “Is the shed locked?”

“It is now. I bought a padlock the morning after the latest incident.” She nibbled on her thumbnail. “I should’ve done it after the first time, but I thought, like you and Detective Carter, it was a prank.”

“I don’t believe this is a prank any longer.”

“Thank you.” The words gushed out of her. “I appreciate hearing that.” She led me to the front of the shed and unlocked it, creaking the wooden door wide and stepping inside. “There’s no power out here, but you should be able to see well enough with light through the window.”

I turned on my phone’s flashlight and studied the interior. A metal roof with no openings near the eaves. No other door but the one we’d used to get inside. One window that was too small except for a child to slip through.

Tools hung from hooks while others had been propped against the wooden walls. An old red wheelbarrow held a few gardening hand tools and a pair of gloves. Other than a small trash bucket half-full of empty mulch bags, plus a few stacked buckets and a coiled-up hose, I didn’t find anything else inside. The dirt floor was smooth other than where we’d walked. “I assume you’ve been inside the shed since the last flower bed episode?”

“Yes, of course. I work inside until mid-afternoon, then in the gardens until it’s time to make dinner.”

“Do you do take-out or prepare it yourself?” This had nothing to do with the sabotage. I wanted to get to know her better.

“I cook for myself. I’m a trained chef. I worked as a head chef at an exclusive restaurant in Boston before I bought the building.”

“Impressive.”

She flashed me a smile that warmed me all the way through. “As I said, I added the lock after the third time someone ripped out my flower bed. I should’ve done it after the first time, though I’m not sure it would’ve made a difference. They would’ve used something else instead of the hoe to ruin my plants.”

I wasn’t sure why they felt the need to use her tools to damage her plants other than the fact that the shed was close by.

We locked the door and walked over to the back entrance of the building, entering the kitchen.

“One more project on my to-do list,” she said, waving to the outdated counters and appliances. “Though, honestly, other than the stove, I kind of like the old-fashioned style. It’s quaint.”

“You could sand down and paint the cabinets,” I said, studying them. “Add new knobs. Appliances, sure, but only because modern stuff is more efficient.” I scuffed my toe across the wide wooden floorboards. “This looks original. I’d sand it and put a fresh coat of poly on it myself. Remove the wallpaper border. Geese haven’t been popular for ages. Maybe add some wooden wainscotting to match the floor? Wooden knobs might accent the cabinets that . . . Hmm. White or off-white?”

She leaned against the counter. “You’re not new to this, are you?”

I shook my head. “An orc friend owns a construction business. He ran into some issues with staffing and since I was between my prior job and this one, I pitched in to help for six months or so. Honestly, though, most of my construction experience comes from home refurb shows on TV. You can learn a lot by watching others do things.”

“You’re hired,” she said with a laugh.

“I’ll start first thing tomorrow.” I chuckled along with her.

“Anyway.” She bumped off the cabinet and strode through the interior door into a large dining room. “There are two dining rooms. This large, formal one, plus a smaller, more intimate one just beyond. Depending on the number of guests, I’ll open one or the other. Or maybe use the small one for breakfast and the large one for a late brunch when more guests are awake. Few get up early on vacation. I don’t plan to serve more meals than that. Breakfast or brunch will come with the room rate.”

I studied the gorgeous old trim that was much more ornate than what contractors could afford to install today. “You’re lucky. No one ripped out the old stuff to replace it with 1960s floral wallpaper or fake paneling.”

“Exactly. The moment I stepped inside this building, I knew Blakemore House would be gorgeous after I gave it the right touch. I intend to restore everything, only replacing what makes sense, like the kitchen appliances and the bathroom fixtures, though I’ll keep as many of the pedestal sinks as I can since they’re cute.”

“Smart. The woodwork alone will draw the eye.”

We passed through the dining room, entering a hall with a large staircase on the left and a door near the kitchen.

“The basement’s down there,” she said. “Granite slab walls. Would you believe it? But the mortar’s solid, and the dirt floor’s dry even when it rains. If the foundation or roofline were shot, I would’ve had to pass. It would cost too much to fix anything like that, though I’m not opposed to jacking up floors to level a roof, if needed.”

“Let me take a look.” I opened the door and had to bend forward to keep from hitting my head on the low roof as I took the stairs to the basement. It was neat and tidy, without any rubble, and other than a small room with a padlock like the shed, I only spied the new furnace, a bulkhead that must lead out onto the path circling the building, and an oil tank.

“I plan to put in heat pumps.” Hannah came up behind me and eased past to release the padlock. “It gets hot here in the summer, and the AC will be welcome. Though that’s not in my initial renovation plans. Once I’m up to speed and money’s coming in, I’ll add them one at a time. I know how to install them myself, which will keep costs down.” The thick wooden door to the small room opened silently, and she waved to the interior. “The wine cellar. Justin had exclusive taste.”

Inside, I found shelving holding a few dusty wine bottles, plus a door on the back. “Where does that lead?”

“Outside. Another bulkhead. I installed the locks here the day I moved in.”

Wise.

We returned to the ground floor, and she showed me the front parlor beyond the smaller dining room, the grand foyer open all the way to the third floor with a huge staircase, plus a large living room opposite the dining areas and an equally large library beyond that.

We continued down the other hall to another closed door. “My suite is through here. I have a nice bedroom overlooking the sea, a small sitting room, plus a huge bathroom complete with a clawfoot tub.” Her laugh rang out. “I’ll put in a shower eventually, but I’ll admit, there’s something decadent about taking a bath in a big old tub.”

I shouldn’t be picturing myself sitting in that tub with her. Taking her hand and tugging her up onto my lap. Spreading her legs wide . . .

She frowned, staring at my mouth, and her nostrils widened with her rapid breathing.

Did she sense my thoughts or was she going in the same direction all on her own? I didn’t know if humans could reveal mating characteristics like dragon shifters, though I really wanted to find out.

I’d look online. Tonight.

The first chance I got.