3. Chapter 3

Sig

I stare at Rachel from my vantage point on the porch steps. This cannot be happening…

Except it is.

I grimace. Internally, that is. Externally, I'm a quacking rubber duck. Not literally quacking. I can't quack or talk in duckie form, and if I could, chances are I'd squeak. But until I shift back, I'm stuck in one spot, staring up at the beautiful, hyperventilating woman across the yard.

When I saw Rachel in Ada's yard earlier, she looked cute in an I-just-got-out-of-bed sort of way. If it weren't for the kids, I would have tried to seduce her out of her plaid pink pajama pants and white t-shirt. Then I would have wrapped my hand around her blonde ponytail and…

Pull your head out of the gutter, Duck!

I may not be able to spring a rubber boner, but this is still not the time. I need to focus on shifting back. But how am I supposed to focus on anything when the woman's wearing shorts and a tank top that hug her tall, slim frame?

A tanned patch of skin peeks out just above her waistband, and my fingers itch with the need to touch her. Figure of speech, of course, since I'm in duckie form. But the need to drag Rachel upstairs and yank her pants down is driving me insane.

Fuck a duck, I've got it bad.

And poor Rachel has got it bad in an entirely different way. She's hyperventilating, her beautiful hazel eyes are wide, and she's gaping at me like she's never seen a man shift into a rubber duck before.

Of course she hasn't. She's human!

She closes her eyes, opens them, closes them, opens them… over and over again, as though that will somehow change reality. And when it doesn't, she spins around and races out of my yard.

Shift back, shift back, shift back!

I need to go after her before she packs the kids into Ada's van and drives away without me.

Shift back, shift back, shift back!

It always takes forever after I'm startled, and this time is no different.

It feels like an eternity before I finally do. The magic returns me to my human form along with my clothes, so all that's left is to grab my phone, shoot off a quick text, and go after her.

To my relief, I find her sitting on her back porch. But her head is between her knees and the kids are watching her with matching triumphant looks. I need to do something about that, too, but one problem at a time.

"Rachel?" I say her name softly, then kneel in front of her.

"Sig…" She stares at me, eyes wide. I wait for the questions, but she blinks a few times and shoots me a tentative smile. "Ready to go?"

So that's how we're going to play it? Just ignore the giant rubber duckie in the room and pretend nothing happened?

What ever happened to if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it's probably a duck?

I sigh. "Yes, I'm all set."

"Great." Rachel claps her hands. "Okay, everyone, let's go."

Lisa glares at her with more malice than a seven-year-old has any right to feel and shouts, "You can't come!"

Noah crosses his arms in front of his chest. "We don't want you."

Anna, whose cheeks are streaked with tears, whimpers. "We want Nana."

If Ada hadn't told me about Rachel before she left for her trip, I'd be worried. And probably making phone calls to make sure she should really be here. Instead, I'm confused. How did she manage to turn Ada's sweet, polite grandkids into little rebels?

I've been too busy with work to pay attention to things on the other side of the fence, but Rachel's barely been here a few days. She can't possibly be as bad as the kids clearly seem to think. Yes, she prefers showers to baths, but I'm willing to bet I can change her mind. Later… First, she needs my help, and I'm going to figure out what's going on with the kids and how to fix it.

The most likely explanation? They're homesick. Or Nana-sick, since this is their home and Ada's the one who left. But shouldn't they just be a little mopey and not openly hostile?

Is Rachel mistreating them?

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I push it away. I know deep down that she's not. If I were human, I'd ask a few questions, to be sure. But I don't need to do that, I just know. I knew from the moment our eyes met, and I'm going to help her and the kids in any way I can.

"I've got a surprise for you, kids," I announce.

"What is it?" Noah perks up. Now we're talking.

I gesture for him to come closer. The girls follow.

One whiff of their ‘unique' scent, and my heart goes out to poor, poor Rachel. How is she not wearing a nose plug? If I had to smell them all day, I'd jump out the window. The house is a bungalow, so I'm not even being dramatic.

Despite my better judgment, I lean in closer and quickly whisper my plan. I hope it works, because impressing Rachel is the number one item on my to-do list. And this is coming from a guy whose only focus for the past year has been launching his own business.

The moment I'm done explaining, Noah takes off across the back yard yelling, "Race you to the car!"

The girls squeal and give chase. They're taller and faster and easily outpace him. You can never win when you have older sisters.

Rachel stares after them, mouth agape. Her lips look soft and kissable, and oh, so tempting. I try to resist. Fuck a duck, I try. It's too soon. I'm moving too fast. I'm going to scare her off.

I take a step back, and another, but then she looks at me and I'm gone. When her gaze drops to my lips, I know I have to taste my fated mate. Now.

Her eyes widen as I cross the distance between us and grab her sexy ponytail. She gasps, and I cover her lips in a heated kiss.

I half-expect her to slap me and tell me to take a hike. Instead, she melts into me like she needs this as much as I do.

A soft moan slips past her lips, and my cock strains against the zipper of my shorts. She tastes like strawberries—and now I'll get hard every time I have a bagel. Strawberry cream cheese, my fridge, top shelf. Don't knock it until you try it.

I slide one hand down Rachel's back, to that bare patch of skin at her waist, and groan as my fingers graze her warm skin. She feels so good in my arms. So ducking perfect!

And our first kiss? Forget sparks. The entire world explodes in bursts of color, because kissing Rachel is everything.

"Rachel. Sig. Hurry up!" Lisa—the bossy sister—shouts from the front of the house.

Duck a duckity duck!

Rachel instantly pulls away from me. Her lips are swollen from our kiss, her breath comes out in pants, and her eyes are wide and slightly spooked. She's also twirling her ring around and around her ring finger. Her right ring finger, not left, though my gut tells me she'd never have kissed me like that if she were taken.

But she shakes her head. "I can't."

I know it, deep down, that she doesn't just mean right now. She means ever. She's going to deny the chemistry between us and pull away.

Don't ask me how I know, but I do, and I can't let that happen. I can't let her put up a wall between us. Because from the moment our eyes met over that fence, I knew Rachel was mine. I staked a claim on her before I got a taste of how good we could be together, and I'm never letting her go.