Chapter 12

"How could I have done that to her?" Holdar muttered as he made his way through the woods.

The worst part was that his first reaction to seeing the red marks on her golden skin had been pleasure - pleasure that she wore the signs of his possession. Horror had quickly replaced it, but he couldn't ignore that first reaction. Was he as bad as those women had thought? Or even, God forbid, his stepfather.

He took another few steps, then came to an abrupt halt. Fuck. He'd been so busy with his self-loathing that he'd moved away from the stream - and from Trish. She had him tied in complete knots. He'd quickly turned to retrace his steps, making his way confidently through the forest. He'd spent a lot of time here as a kid. Happy times when he was very young, before his father died and his mother had fallen prey to his stepfather.

Then, after Flora had found him and Trogar and insisted on bringing them back to Fairhaven Falls with her, he'd spent a lot of time out here alone, wrestling with everything he'd done in the ring and wrestling with his guilt over his brother. He still remembered the day his brother was born, the day his father had placed the baby in his arms and told him to watch over his brother. And he'd failed them both.

Trogar is happy now, a small voice insisted - a voice that sounded suspiciously like Trish's voice. But his brother's present happiness couldn't erase his past guilt.

He moved more quietly as he approached the clearing. Trish was sprawled on the bank, apparently asleep. She'd put her t-shirt back on, hiding the evidence of his carelessness, and he sighed before edging back to the stream. He baited his hook and cast his line but his mind wasn't on fishing. He found himself replaying everything that had happened that day, from the shockingly delightful awakening to their conversation during their walk. Had he ever considered anything else?

Security work had been a perfect fit, both because it allowed him to redirect his anger and his fighting skills and because of the transient nature of his assignments. Transient… For the first time he wasn't ready for his assignment to end. He didn't want to stop protecting Trish. He didn't want to hand her over to another male.

His pole threatened to snap as his fist clenched and he hastily relaxed his grip. What if he found another job in Atlanta so he could remain nearby? It would be easy enough to find work. The thought of living in the city full time didn't thrill him, but it would be worth it if he could continue to see her. If she even wanted to continue seeing him.

Was there something else he could earn a living? Money wasn't much of a concern - Rondel Security paid him well and he'd had little to spend his money on - but he couldn't imagine not working. Although it wouldn't be as a fishing guide, he thought dryly as he reeled in another empty hook. He forced himself to stop worrying about the future and concentrate on the present, and he managed to land four nice sized fish before deciding it was time to go back.

Trish was still asleep, but she blinked sleepily when he bent over and put a hand on her arm.

"There you are. I dreamed you left me."

"I was never far away, princess."

"You're too far now. Kiss me."

How could he refuse?

He leaned down and kissed her, doing his best to keep it slow and gentle, determined to prove to both of them that he could control his more aggressive instincts. Instead she gave him a puzzled frown.

"Why are you holding back?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he said stiffly.

"By kissing me?"

"In any way."

She rolled her eyes, then tugged her shirt up over her breasts.

"Look," she demanded as if he could focus on anything else. "What do you see?"

"Two beautiful, perfect breasts."

He started to reach for her, then hesitated. She grabbed his hand and placed it over her breast.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, that's not what I meant. Maybe I should have asked what you don't see."

"What?"

"No marks," she said impatiently, cupping her other breast and offering it for his inspection. The erotic gesture made his cock jerk and he had to force himself to focus on her words. "What you did earlier felt wonderful and I enjoyed every minute of it. So I was a little red afterwards. So what? And it's gone now anyway."

She was right - her breasts were as creamy and golden as ever, her nipples their normal rosy hue. Had he overreacted?

"Let me see your sides," he demanded.

She sighed but rolled from side to side so he could see that the skin on her waist was also smooth and perfect.

"You're right - the marks are gone."

"Exactly. But, Holdar, you need to understand that I wouldn't be upset if they were still there. You didn't do anything to hurt me. All you did was to make me feel good. I'm no masochist - if you're hurting me I'd tell you."

"Really?"

"Really." She hesitated, studying his face. "Why does this bother you so much?"

He really didn't want to talk about it, but he owed her an explanation.

"It's complicated. I suppose part of it is because of being a fighter, of knowing how much damage I can inflict. I also know how much damage my stepfather caused and I can't stand the thought of being like him."

"I never met the man but I can tell you right now that you are nothing like him," she said fiercely. "You're good and kind and decent and the way you touch me is absolutely perfect."

He wasn't sure that any of the first three were true, but the fourth one was the one he cared about the most.

"Perfect?"

"Perfect. Now why don't you think of some other perfect ways to touch me while we walk home?"

Her teasing smile was back and he found himself laughing, giving her an impulsive hug as he helped her to her feet. He'd never considered himself a hugger but that felt as right as everything else when it came to her.

They walked back through the forest as she peppered him with more questions, her endless curiosity and boundless enthusiasm drawing more smiles from him. They were a short distance away from the shack when he caught a new scent and immediately pulled her to a halt, placing a warning hand over her mouth when she started to ask what he was doing. She nodded, her eyes wide and scared as he scented the air.

He relaxed as he recognized the scents, then sighed.

"It appears we have visitors. Friendly visitors."

"I'm not exactly dressed for company," she said nervously.

"You look beautiful."

He was right, but her shirt still wasn't completely dry so he pulled off his own t-shirt and dropped it over her head.

"I don't think that's an improvement."

"Perhaps not, but it's considerably less revealing."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue, tucking her hand in his arm as they entered the clearing in front of the shack. A large minotaur was pacing back and forth, typing something into his phone, while a werewolf reclined against the porch steps. Neither the casual posture nor the sheriff's uniform he was wearing made him look less like a predator.

"There isn't much point to having a secret hideaway if everyone in town knows about it," he complained.

Houston grinned at him as he finished his text and Eric shook his head.

"Not many secrets in Fairhaven Falls. You should remember that."

"I do. That's why we came here."

Those wild green eyes sharpened.

"Is trouble following you?"

Trish's breath caught and he patted her hand reassuringly.

"I don't think so. We weren't followed and no one knows we're here."

"Anyone know you're together?"

"A couple. Maybe a few more who could guess."

Eric rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"A smart man could put that together. We'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks. I asked Aidan to spread the word as well."

Eric growled and Trish jumped.

"The Pack needs to stay out of town business."

"I'm not in town," he pointed out. "What's up between you and them anyway?"

"It's complicated. Now aren't you going to introduce me to your mate?"

He opened his mouth to object, then closed it again, deciding not to object to the term.

"Trish, this is Eric. He's the new Sheriff, which is truly remarkable considering how much trouble he got into when we were younger."

Eric shrugged as Houston came to join them.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am. And a male can change," he added meaningfully before grinning at Houston. "Unless you're Houston. He was born responsible."

"I have my moments. You'd be surprised. So you're Trish? I'm Houston. I'm the mayor."

"It's very nice to meet you, both of you. Would you care to come inside for some… tea?" she asked hesitantly.

"Or there's still beer in the cooler," he suggested and both males gave him a grateful look.

She laughed.

"In that case I'll go and change. I'll be back in a minute."

"All right," he demanded as soon as the door closed behind her and he passed out the beers. "What are the two of you doing here?"

"Do we need a reason to visit an old friend?" Eric asked piously.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Your brother is concerned," Houston said, taking the lead. "He's afraid you're in trouble - or your mate is - and that you'll try to handle it yourself without asking for help."

"I told Eric I thought we were safe. I meant it." A realization suddenly swept over him. Although he'd always preferred going his own way, if Trish was in danger he wouldn't hesitate to demand their help. "Trust me. I won't take any chances with her safety."

Both males nodded.

"Is that all?"

"Not exactly." Houston studied his beer. "There's an Easter Egg hunt in town next weekend. It's Daisy's first time and Trogar really wants you to be there."

"He told you that?" he asked incredulously.

"No, but Pippa told Ginger and Ginger told me."

Now that he believed. He considered the matter for a moment, then nodded. He wanted to please his brother and he didn't see much of a risk - and he wanted to be there to see Daisy's excitement as well.

"All right. Anything else?"

Eric studied his claws thoughtfully, not looking at him.

"How much longer do you reckon you'll be in Atlanta?"

Remembering his earlier speculation, he shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Because we need another Forest Ranger - and I want one who's not associated with the Pack. The pay sucks, but the working conditions are good - as long as it's not too cold or too hot or too rainy."

"Great sales pitch," he said dryly and Eric grinned.

"Would it help if I said you got to knock some sense into the occasional young hooligan? Or teach nature classes?"

The idea was surprisingly appealing, but he looked up at the shack and thought about the woman inside, then shook his head. No matter what happened with the job, he wasn't going to leave her.

Eric followed his gaze and nodded.

"Understood. But you might try asking her. We've had a lot of women moving to town recently and they all seem to enjoy it."

"I think Trish is more of a city girl."

"Who's a city girl?" she demanded as she joined them on the porch.

Eric coughed and turned away and even Houston had to hide his smile. She'd only been gone a few minutes, but she'd put on some light makeup, arranged her hair, and donned her pretty sundress. She would have been perfectly at ease walking into any fancy Atlanta restaurant.

"No one, princess," he said quickly. "Are you sure you don't want a beer?"

"I suppose I might as well. Isn't that what a country girl drinks?"

They all laughed and the conversation turned to more general matters, like the upcoming Egg Hunt.