9. Chapter 9

Sig

Rachel grabs the edge of the pool and pulls herself up like a goddess. Water streams down her delicious body, and my eyes snap to her hot, round ass.

She looks so ducking hot in that pink bikini. The way it clings to her body when she turns around makes me rock hard, and I'm glad I'm submerged in the pool so she can't see the tent in my trunks.

"You don't have to say anything, Sig," she says breezily. "We've only known each other a week. If you're not interested in pursuing whatever this thing is between us—"

"I am interested," I snap. A bit too loudly.

She frowns. Like she's the one who actually doesn't want this.

"We're good together, Rachel." More than you know. "I want this. I want us."

I'm about to climb out of the pool… Wrap her in my arms… Beg if I have to… when she sits down on the edge next to me and dips her long legs in the water. "What was up with that whole conversation, Sig? Why do we need to talk?"

I grimace.

How do I explain that I'm a shifter who transforms into a rubber duckie? And that if I take her home, the magic will turn her into a shifter, too? Not a duckie shifter, like me. No, she'll be something else. Possibly a ducking cruise ship, and a full-sized one, minus the ducking part.

I rub my temples, because it hurts my head just thinking about it.

How the duck am I going to explain it all to Rachel? I shouldn't, that's how. I should give this thing between us a couple of months. Make sure we're solid.

But she looks so frustrated with me, all because of the things I've kept from her. And I'm tired of lying. Terrified I'll accidentally shift in front of her again and make it all so much worse than it needs to be.

"Follow me." I climb out of the pool. Last thing I need is for Rachel to freak out, fall in, and drown while I'm duckied out and unable to shift.

She may be an amazing swimmer, but based on how she reacted the first time she saw me shift, I wouldn't put it past her.

Once we're safely away from any bodies of water, I turn to face her, knowing this is my last chance to change my mind.

The past few days have been amazing. Perfect. They could be that way for a long, long time. All I have to do is stay in my human form. Date her. Enjoy our time together. Pretend to be someone I'm not.

It feels wrong. So wrong…

I need her and the kids to know the real me. That way I'm not constantly tense, waiting for something to startle me and force me to shift, worried that I'll freak them out and lose them forever.

Quit going in circles and duck the duck up!

That's it. I'm doing this!

I take a deep breath. And shift.

Rachel shrieks.

I shift back.

She shrieks again.

I shift once more.

This time, she doesn't scream.

She rubs her eyes, like she thinks she's imagining things.

I shift a few more times, to make it clear this is real.

Eyes wide, voice hopeful, she whispers, "Whoa, those are some crazy special effects. Couldn't you have given me some warning?"

"Not special effects," I tell her, and shift once more.

When I shift back, she shakes her head. "There was an amazing magician aboard the ship last year, but she's got nothing on you."

I pull Rachel into my arms, press my lips against hers, and wonder how kissing her can feel so magical every time. Then, I shift.

My arms disappear from around her, and I duck at her feet. If that's not going to convince her, I don't know what is.

She kneels in front of me and pokes my side. "How'd you do that?" She looks around. "Where'd you go?"

Since I can't talk in rubber duckie form, I shift back—and find her kneeling with her sweet little mouth in front of my crotch.

Fuck a double duck! A very hard double duck, because the duckie in my swim trunks springs to attention the moment he thinks he might get some mouth action.

Rachel's eyes widen as she takes in my hard-on. She licks her lips.

I pull her to her feet before she decides to yank down my swim trunks and pretend rubber duckie shifters aren't real.

Her cheeks flush. "How'd you pull off that trick?"

"You mean get a hard-on?"

She giggles. "I meant the magic trick!"

"It's not a trick. It's actual magic. I'm a rubber duckie shifter."

"A rubber duckie shifter…" she repeats softly.

I demonstrate.

Bam, duckie. Bam, human. Bam duckie. Bam human.

"I shift into a rubber duckie," I say, even though it's pretty obvious.

"You shift into a rubber duckie…" she repeats.

I wonder if I've broken her.

Several moments pass in silence. A rock forms in the pit of my stomach, because I've misjudged things. I thought this was the right thing to do, but any minute now, she'll run away screaming, and I'll never see her again. Never get to talk to her, or touch her, or be with her.

I pull her into my arms, possibly for the last time, and hold my breath, terrified to let go.

"So…" she says against my chest. "You're like… a kid-friendly version of a werewolf?"

"Not that kid friendly." I pull back and give her a once-over. And the boulder in my gut breaks apart and floats away on the backs of a hundred rubber duckies. "But I guess you could say that."

"How's that even possible?"

"I grew up in Shifter Bay." For a supernatural, it would be explanation enough. Since Rachel's human, I add, "Everyone from Shifter Bay shifts into the one thing they love most."

"And you love rubber duckies." It's not a question. It doesn't need to be. My love for duckies is everywhere.

"Hell yeah!" And you might shift into a full-sized cruise ship… something I can't quite wrap my head around.

Rachel bites her lower lip as she mulls my duckie news over. "Does Reaper know?"

I nod. "He shifts into a hot pepper."

Rachel bursts out laughing, and the sound fills my heart with joy. "Wait, are you serious?"

I nod.

"Okay."

"Okay?" I repeat.

"Okay, you shift into a rubber duckie, and Reaper shifts into a hot pepper." She shoots me one of her adorable smiles.

"Are you sure you're okay with it? Last time you saw me shift you…"

"Freaked out? I mean, can you blame me? I thought the kids had literally driven me insane. I was sure I hallucinated the whole thing. I thought I was having a mental breakdown!"

I pull her into my arms. "You're not crazy, baby."

She snuggles against my chest. "Well, now I know that…"

"There's one more thing," I whisper into her hair. Not the cruise ship part—that's a problem for another time. "You're my fated mate."

"Fated mate…" Rachel breathes.

These days, practically everyone's read or watched something to do with fated mates. Usually, a romance with animal shifters or the occasional vampire. So Rachel should know exactly what I mean.

Then again, Reaper once found a series of Aussie novellas where fated mates were couples who broke up because they were meant to be ‘just mates,' the Australian word for ‘friends'… and no way am I risking Rachel mistaking what I'm saying for that clusterduck.

"We're supernatural soulmates, Rachel. We're meant to be." I take her hand and place it over my heart. "I can feel it right here."

Rachel stares up at me, her lips forming a sexy ‘O', her eyes wide. "We're really fated mates?" she repeats. "Like in books?"

"Depends which ones you read."

Her cheeks flush an adorable pink, and she licks her lips as her gaze drops to my tented swim trunks.

I give her a slow grin. "I'm going to need to read whatever you've been reading."

Her blush deepens. Called it.

She shakes her head, and her eyes get a faraway look. "Fated mates…"

It's kind of adorable, how she repeats things to process them. I like knowing that about her, and I can't wait to learn all the little things that are uniquely Rachel.

"I know you might not believe me yet," I tell her. "But I plan to spend every day proving to you that we're perfect together. I'll wait for as long as it takes for you to accept it."

I'll wait forever for you, Rachel.

Rachel stares up at me, and I get lost in her hazel eyes. "I already know we're perfect together."

This time, it's my turn to be surprised. "You do?"

She nods. "I felt it the moment our eyes met."

I gape at her. "You felt the mate bond?"

"Kind of…" Her cheeks flush. "I was drawn to you. Physically, at first. But as I got to know you…" Her blush intensifies, and I realize she's not ready to admit her feelings for me.

So I cup the back of her head, loving the feel of her wet hair against my palm, and kiss her.

My first thought is that I could drown in Rachel's lips, and this is coming from a man who can't drown. No joke.

I plan to take advantage of that particular talent by using my tongue on my mate while she's in the tub. Or in one of the VIP pools. Or on an inflatable duck in the lazy river, if that's where she'll have me.

Because I'll take Rachel however I can get her. I just have to get her naked first.

We kiss until we're both breathless and panting. I'm so hard it hurts, and my hand has somehow found its way beneath her bikini top. Her sweet moans echo around us, and I want to take her on the spot and duck her till she comes.

Now that everything's out in the open, the urge to claim her is overwhelming. She's my fated mate. I've accepted her, and she's accepted me. All of me. But fucking her on the scalding hot sidewalk is a painfully bad idea. And I don't want to rush her and scare her away.

I should take her on a proper date first, complete with candles, Champagne, and music. But it'll have to wait because I want her too much to stop.

The duckie in my pants begs me to set him free, and I plan to—as soon as I get my mate good and ready. And I know just the place.

I force myself to pull away. She starts to protest, but I silence her with another kiss and whisper an invitation against her lips. "Join me for a bubble bath?"

The smile she gives me is breathtaking. "I'd love to."

And I love you. I just don't say it out loud. Not yet.