Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Giza

She had no idea what she was doing, did she?

Prancing around my home in those sweet pajamas, scenting up the place with her… her . Maybe it was her shampoo? I don't know. All I knew was that something inside me had changed last night when I'd held her as she'd cried, and now I was certain I could pick her out of a crowd blindfolded.

I mean, if I was blindfolded, not her. Although I guess if she was blindfolded, the results would be the same—

Focus .

Ah, yes.

I dragged my attention from the large window in the front of the shop, through which I could see the bakery and above it, my apartment, and focused on the leg beneath my muni .

"You're still good?" I asked the man, to disguise my distraction .

His eyes were closed, his EarPods were in, and every once in a while, he would hum under his breath along with whatever he was listening to.

Considering he didn't answer me, I had to assume he was "still good."

And/or possibly high as fuck.

My lips twitched as I bent back over my task.

Truthfully, I didn't mind if my clients imbibed some mind-altering substances during the tattooing session, as long as they were completely sober during our planning process. Some artists disagreed with me on this, but they didn't learn their art in a culture where both the tattooer and tattooee regularly chewed the root of the mkantallah plant ahead of time.

It was, however, vital that I remain sober during the process.

"Strength," I whispered, as I tilted the needles of the muni to form a curve. "Resilience." This mark was a celebration of what my client valued in the aftermath of losing his father. " Focus ."

Three important attributes, which I should remember now. Strength, resilience, focus.

I wondered what Harper was doing at that moment.

You're sucking at the focus .

After she'd agreed to stay with me that morning, I realized my chest was aching from all the emotions I'd kept in check for so long. Need, fear, joy .

And of course my damned Kteer wouldn't stay the hells out of the conversation either.

If I'd been able to, I would've cancelled this appointment to stay home and work things out with Harper. But I'd sensed that now she'd agreed to stay, I needed to give her space. And besides, this young man was only in Eastshore for another three days, and I had quite an ambitious tattoo project to accomplish in that time.

But leaving her had been the most difficult thing I've done in the last decade.

Of course, I insisted on ensuring she knew her way around the refrigerator, and the medicine cabinet, and the sound system, and my library, before she finally—laughing—shooed me out the door.

Laughing .

The memory of her laughter would stay with me a long while, I knew.

There wasn't enough laughter in my life, and suddenly, I had the chance—the smallest chance—for more. I couldn't afford to waste it.

I had only weeks to convince Harper to allow me to be a part of my child's life. To convince her to let me be a part of her life.

How?

Well for one thing, you ignore your Kteer and the raging hard-on you get when you get a whiff of her arousal .

Yes, well, easier said than done.

I wasn't sure I'd be able to survive another three weeks with her in my home and not bring up the topic of Mating.

Because whether she acknowledged it or not, whether she rejected me or not, Harper O'Donnell was my Mate, and her scent was the sweetest thing I could imagine.

I somehow finished the tattoo, or at least this morning's addition. When I began wiping down his calf, the young male roused and pulled out his EarPods. "All done, man?"

"For now. Are you still up for another session this afternoon?"

"Totally. Three-thirty, yeah?"

I nodded, because I wanted the skin to have the most time to heal in between sessions. It was why I worked on a different part of the tattoo each session.

"Awesome, man, thanks," the male said, sitting up. "I'm going back to my room to take a nap."

I wasn't surprised. "I think that would be an exceptionally good idea."

"But first, like, I want some nachos. I think I could get carryout and eat them in bed."

My lips twitched. Again, not surprised.

After giving him the name of the closest eatery to handle carryout—most places in the business district of Eastshore were within walking distance of one another—I saw him to the door and began to clean up.

My mind had gone blessedly blank, concentrating only on the task at hand. It was what I needed, and the focus I wish I'd had earlier. The communion between a kahp'muni artist and his canvas was special; I was part of that young man's journey to healing and remembering a very special relationship with his father. I owed it to him—and to his father's spirit—to be focused and present at every step.

I vowed to do my best to put aside my thoughts and feelings of Harper during this afternoon's session.

I was finishing the last of my disinfecting when I heard the door open. I straightened, peeling off my XXXL gloves and dropping them in the bin.

"Hello?"

And every promise to focus went right out the window as my heart sped up and my Kteer began to salivate.

"Harper?" I rushed to the front room. "What are you—I mean—" I cleared my throat and inclined my head formally—"be welcome here."

What was it about this female that made me revert to the old ways? The formal ways? The ways I learned when I was a kit and struggling to understand the world around me?

Her lips tweaked into a smile, which reached down into my chest and tugged, then she glanced around the shop.

"This place is decorated like your home."

I struggled to hear judgement in her tone. "Yes?" I hesitantly offered. "Karnak is one of our clan members here on the island, and this is his art. I find it soothing."

She'd wandered over to the glass-enclosed display by the front desk. Her fingertips trailed over one of the fae carvings I sold. "I agree," she whispered.

I dug my claws into my palms to keep from shuddering, to keep from reaching for her. How well I remembered the feeling of those fingertips on my skin! But I wasn't going to overwhelm her with my need.

Clearing my throat again, I stepped more fully into my showroom. "This is…where I sell art on commission. Not just from Karnak, but non-human art from all over the country. Others send me their work, and I sell it for them, because Eastshore is becoming something of an oasis for us."

She nodded, her attention still on the various pieces in the display. "And for humans interested in you." A flash of hazel beneath her lashes as she glanced at me, then away. "I studied your website this morning."

"Ah. Yes. Well, I can't take credit for that; your sister's best friend is Jess, Karnak's Mate. She's responsible for inviting us here and making us feel welcome." I resisted the urge to shove my hands into the pockets of my trousers. "She set up the website. I have a full calendar of clients, thanks to her."

Suddenly, Harper's head whipped around. "Oh my gosh, I didn't think to ask if you had a client now ."

For some reason, her obvious distress put me more at ease. Perhaps because I could put her at ease? I shook my head. "He just left and will return later this afternoon. I try not to work for more than two hours at a time. For one thing, it gives the skin a chance to rest. For another…" I leaned to one side, stretching the stiffness from my lower back. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

Something flashed across her face before she looked away, and I wondered if she was thinking of the couch where I'd slept last night. I sure as shit was.

"Well…" She locked her gaze on one of the gargoyle blades hanging over the desk. "Is there any chance you're free for lunch? I mean, if your client isn't—"

Joy and relief had flashed through me at the suggestion. "I would love —I mean, yes, I would be happy to escort you to lunch."

The twitch of her lips told me that she hadn't missed how I was trying to hide my enthusiasm.

Well, hells. At least she knew I was trying not to overwhelm her, right?

I didn't know if I was succeeding.

Since things did feel awkward between us, and I wasn't certain how to proceed, I opted not to suggest one of the nicer sit-down restaurants on the island. Instead, after I locked up, I suggested the food trucks near the library.

I was a little surprised she agreed.

We walked in silence, but it didn't feel bad . More as if we were both lost in our own thoughts. When we reached the food trucks, we both—without discussion—veered toward Eduardo's Empanadas.

Harper ordered a chicken. I ordered my usual; five beef and one dessert.

She was smirking when I handed her the chicken empanada. "What?" I asked a little defensively .

Shrugging, she peeled back the paper wrapping. "Just trying to decide if you're especially hungry today."

I glanced down at my order and realized the difference in quantity. "I suppose I must seem like a glutton to you."

Her chin jerked up, her gaze a little horrified. "Oh, no, I didn't mean…" Was she blushing? "I just meant, you're a lot bigger than I am. You must need a lot of fuel." Her words were coming faster, as if she was embarrassed. "Anyhow, thanks, Eddie!" she called, offering the man in the truck a wave before turning away.

I was in a more thoughtful frame of mind as I offered my own nod of farewell to young Eddie. Harper knew him, obviously. She was familiar with Eastshore, I reminded myself.

And she'd allowed me to pay for her lunch.

And she obviously felt awkward.

I didn't like that. I wasn't surprised at my own awkwardness, but she was always so self-assured, so poised, so…perfect.

She wasn't perfect last night. She fell apart all over you .

Yes, and I hadn't minded it one bit.

By the time I caught up with her, I'd wolfed down three of the empanadas and could enjoy the remainders. I was a little surprised she hadn't sat at one of the town-provided picnic tables, but I was perfectly happy to stroll and eat.

Main Street was bustling, and I followed her lead when she turned toward the park. We made light, stilted conversation about the stores we passed and the people we saw. It wasn't the lunch date I'd hoped for.

We'd looped around the park and were heading back toward the library when I finished the last of my empanadas. Harper, of course, had finished her single—healthier—treat long ago. In an effort to stretch our time together, I nodded to the gathering of trucks .

"How about ice cream? The Creamery does delicious custard."

I saw indecision in her expression, but she shook her head. "I shouldn't. But thank you."

It was a polite refusal, but something made me peer closer. "You wanted it, though. For a moment."

She sighed and offered me a wry twist of her lips, before turning toward the entrance to the public beach. "I'm used to skipping dessert. Can we walk back on the sand?"

"Of course," I murmured, following her.

She was used to denying herself what she wanted? As she climbed the path through the dunes ahead of me, I allowed my gaze to caress her rear end—perfect in those jeans—in a way I would never do if she could see me do it. Her body was slender and athletic, the kind I saw in magazine advertisements and on television.

But she'd kept it that way by denying herself treats she wanted?

I felt a growl rising in my chest and swallowed it down. I hated the thought of my Mate being denied anything, especially when she carried my kit.

She's not yours. Neither of them is, not yet. Be patient .

When she stepped onto the sand, Harper seemed to… Well, she relaxed. She inhaled, held it, then exhaled for a long time, her shoulders loosening. Her hands moved away from her sides just slightly, as if she wanted to feel the sea breeze on her skin.

Of course, since we were both dressed for the November chill, that was impossible. Still, she looked adorable in her fuzzy sweater, the wind tugging at her ponytail as if it wanted her to let her hair down as much as I did.

"You like the beach. "

When she glanced my way, she was beaming. "I love it." Crouching, she began to unlace her ankle boots. "It's so invigorating, no matter the season. I love to swim—it's great exercise."

I squatted beside her, my weight on the balls of my feet, my attention torn between her and the waves. "Is that the only reason you do it? Because you think you need to exercise?" I was beginning to guess the way my Mate thought.

She froze, and I supposed I'd guessed correctly. But then she shook her head and went to work on her other boot. "I do it because it's fun , Giza. And because it's really amazing to be surrounded by so much wildlife."

"You mean sharks?"

Her snort was just as cute as the rest of her. When she stood, I did as well, and she grabbed my arm to support herself as she kicked off her boots and socks. Since it had been unthinking, I didn't comment, but I wanted to howl with glee that she'd chosen to lean on me.

"Shark attacks are rare—there's often less than a hundred each year," she informed me as she pulled me into motion, her boots and socks dangling from her other hand. "It's the rays you need to watch for. Not now, though—they are most active in the summer."

I was paying only half attention to her words, honestly. Most of my being was focused on the fact she still held my arm, as if I was escorting her. As if she trusted me.

"I have little experience in the ocean," I confessed.

The incredulous expression she swung on me almost made the confession worth it. I shook my head ruefully.

"I grew up in the mountains, Harper. Cool, clear lakes. Clear . Where I could see any sharks coming."

"There are no sharks in lakes—wait, in your world, do sharks live in lakes?"

I allowed my grin to grow. "No. I am teasing you. Our world is very much like yours. Or the way yours was before the human population grew and technology destroyed much of the landscape."

Over the years, I'd learned to keep my judgements to myself, so I was surprised I'd allowed this thought to slip free. To my surprise, however, Harper merely looked thoughtful as we picked our way along the sand.

"It must be beautiful," she finally said.

And my breath caught.

"It is." I swallowed. "It was. I…we haven't been allowed back."

Our people were dying. The human world had been the only way forward, but by all the gods of our ancestors, sometimes I missed the simplicity of that world.

"I'm sorry." Her words were quiet, but she pulled us to a stop so we were facing the waves. "You must miss it very much."

Did I?

Right now, I could tell anyone who asked that there was no place I'd rather be than here with her.

I glanced down to see her digging her pedicured toes into the sand, and I felt a smile trying to tug at my lips. "I think I might enjoy the beach after all."

"Now that you live on Eastshore, you'll have to go swimming." She was smiling again at the water. "Next summer."

Only two months ago, Hurricane Ursula had dragged Luxor and his Mate out into that ocean. The sour taste of that terror wasn't pleasant, so I swallowed it down in favor of my Mate. "May I ask you a question, Harper?"

When she hummed, I took that as approval.

"You love the beach, the ocean. Yet you live hours away from it, despite your sister living here. Why do you punish yourself? "

"Punish myself?" She tipped her head back, eyes closed. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"It's how I see it."

How I see it ? I was gazing down at her perfect upturned beauty. I wanted to kiss her.

Gods, I wanted to taste her again.

Hold. Hold. Patience.

"I suppose…" She sighed, but didn't open her eyes. "There's no chance to be a partner in a law firm if I live on an island. Eastshore is nice…" She straightened and opened her eyes with a rueful grin. "But there are no law firms here, no chance for a partnership. And that's what I was meant to be."

"Is it?" The question was out before I could think about it, but then I pressed on. "You always knew you wanted to be a partner in a law firm?"

She shrugged, gaze creeping back toward the waves. "That's all I ever was supposed to be. That's what I've been working toward my whole life, and now I finally reached that goal."

I wanted to step between her and the ocean, to force her to look at me. Instead, I covered her fingers on my arm with my other hand, hoping I could warm her up. "I don't hear you saying you've always wanted to be a lawyer, Harper. What do you want now?"

If I hadn't been looking at her eyes, I might've missed the pain she blinked away. "It's what I'm supposed to be. Successful, kickass, perfect."

I winced, hating that she felt she still had to live her life as her family expected. But I didn't say anything because I didn't want to push her, to give her reason to go back to her law firm, her home. I wanted her to stay here on Eastshore until at least Kap'paral —Thanksgiving. Here. With me .

So I took a deep breath and said what I should've said last night.

"I am sorry, Harper, for embarrassing you last night."

When her surprised gaze swung on me, I winced.

"I should have controlled myself better." I couldn't explain to her about my Kteer , though, and the deep, visceral knowledge I hadn't been able to restrain. "What happened…" I shook my head in regret. "It should not have been made public. Not until we'd had a chance to discuss it."

She'd tipped her head to one side, studying me. Now, one side of her lips twitched, and she squeezed my arm. "If it hadn't come out last night, I wouldn't be walking with you right now. I definitely wouldn't have stayed with you last night."

"You're saying the only reason—"

"I'm saying there's a reason for everything. Maybe this was for the best." She sighed. "Before the meeting, I'd had a talk with Meli. I'd only just decided to track you down, but I had no idea you were on Eastshore, Giza. I would've found you eventually, but last night…just sort of sped up the process."

She'd only just decided to find me? To tell me about my kit?

I swallowed, not sure if I was angry or saddened or elated by that news.

Why hadn't she wanted to tell me from the beginning?

Because the kit is hers, first and foremost .

But the thought of losing something so precious, because it hadn't occurred to her that I might want to know about it …

Gods below, it would have destroyed me.

She's here now. You have a chance to make her understand .

I took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you're here, Harper." Here. With me.

Slowly, she nodded. "I think…I think I am too, Giza. Thank you for…"

When she trailed off, I tried to guess. "Lunch?"

Her grin flashed. "For empanadas. For this walk in the sand. For giving me your bed. For keeping me safe and sane and…"

"Always," I croaked, my chest tightening at her words. " Always , Harper."

Please, please believe me .

From the way her cheeks pinked, I thought maybe she did. "Thank you," she whispered again.

Then she rose up on her toes, tugging on my arm so I leaned closer…and she kissed me. A quick peck on the cheek, above my beard, where the inked designs celebrated my passage of m'tapap so many years before.

Harper kissed me, and I felt it throughout my body.

Then, blushing, she released me, stepped back, and turned and hurried away from the beach.

I stood there, my fingertips on my cheek, watching her go, and my smile surprised me.