5. Brandon

5

brANDON

As happy as Brandon had been to fit in one more tour before the storms came, he chafed at the delay it caused in getting to know Riley better.

His clients remarked on the scenery, joked and teased as they fished out on the ice, and huddled around the campfire in the evening to tell stories and talk about what they had seen. Brandon tried to be engaging and draw them out, but his mind was back in Fox Hollow despite his best efforts.

Riley's singing stirred something deep in Brandon's heart, and he suspected a mate bond had something to do with the feelings that surged bright and hot after only a brief acquaintance.

We should be back with our mate, getting to know him better, Brandon's inner moose nudged.

We need to eat. I have to work to buy food.

We can graze the trees for free, his moose argued.

Pine needles get stuck in my throat.

Humans are too fragile. That's why moose are better, his other half snarked. Brandon ignored the razzing, long a part of their rapport.

I don't think Riley is a shifter. So wooing our mate is going to be strictly human. Lucky you have me.

He's very handsome. Bite him and claim him before someone else does.

I'm not taking dating advice from a moose.

You need to take it from someone. We've been alone too long.

Brandon sighed, watching his clients enjoying a snowball fight. True. But something is odd. I couldn't read him at all last night, even when we were in contact. Usually, when someone gets that close, I'm overwhelmed keeping their thoughts out of my head. I sensed…warm feelings…but not words.

He hasn't said what he's studying, and I don't want to pry—but I'm really curious. If he really is a psychic immune, we're going to need to do a lot of talking instead of relying on my telepathy. What does that mean for a mate bond?

Brandon tried to bring his attention back to the moment, telling himself there was plenty of time to find answers. His clients were a jovial group who knew each other well, which meant Brandon didn't have to play host to warm up the connections. He chimed in occasionally, but they clearly had a history and in-jokes, so he took the opportunity to stay more detached and focus on the forest.

For what it's worth, we're the perfect zodiac match. I intend to take that as a good omen.

Brandon obsessively checked the weather, unwilling to risk his charges in the woods when a storm hit. The storms were predicted to be a few days out, but he noticed that the sky had grown darker and the temperature dropped.

He made the decision to change their route, something his clients wouldn't notice but which would keep them closer to civilization, making it faster if they needed to go back to town in a hurry. Forecasts were all well and good, but Brandon had been a guide long enough to know that they weren't perfect and a dangerous storm could move in more quickly than expected.

Brandon relied on his moose more than any weather app. The longer they were outside, the more he felt certain that the snow would hit sooner than predicted. They were well-provisioned for a normal day, but not to face down a major squall.

He was glad to have altered the route when snow began falling, light at first and then heavier as the afternoon wore on.

"The storm is ahead of projections," he told his disappointed clients. "We need to head back now. We don't want to get stranded out here. I know it's a day sooner than we planned, and I'll give you all a day's credit for another hike."

To his surprise, the group accepted his decision with only minor disappointment. Then again, the slate-gray sky and accumulating snow proved Brandon's point, and this set of hikers seemed less risk-prone than others he had led.

Sometimes he got a group that viewed hiking like a video game with challenges but not real risks. That meant he had to be on watch constantly to keep them from accidentally hurting themselves or endangering the whole group.

Fortunately, both regular animals and shifters could sense Brandon's moose-ness and didn't want to mess with a full-grown buck.

Because we're badass, his moose chimed in.

I'd just as soon not test that in a fight. Brandon had no desire for a scuffle, but in general, a moose was likely to win any match except against a bear or a pack of wolves.

The snow fell harder as they retraced their steps, confirming Brandon's caution. Over the last couple of hours, several inches had fallen, and if the revised forecast held true, they could expect a few feet by the time it passed.

"Does this happen a lot around here?" one of his clients asked, looking windburned and cold.

"More often than not." Brandon trudged in front to plow the path for the others. His long legs made even deep snow easier to navigate. With snowshoes, he could go nearly anywhere in his human form that his moose could go.

"How do you manage?" another spoke up, his face nearly covered by his hat and scarf.

"We learn to read the signs, regardless of what the forecast says," Brandon replied. "Satellites and predictions are great, but sometimes they're wrong. That's cold comfort if you're stuck out in the elements." He didn't mention that his moose had a strong natural instinct for storms.

"Do people get lost out here?" another hiker asked from the back of the group.

"Unfortunately, yes. This forest is especially rugged, and between the weather and the terrain, it can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing," Brandon said. "Every year people get injured because they go off a trail and fall or get lost. Most turn out okay, but some people are never found."

"I thought this was a state park," one of the hikers questioned, looking sodden and tired.

"It is—but it's not a theme park," Brandon replied. "It's still ‘forever wild.' There aren't safety precautions built in except for the knowledge and equipment you bring with you."

Brandon sighed in relief when they reached the parking lot, although they still had to navigate the roads back to town. They loaded their gear and piled into his Suburban. Brandon felt pleased and relieved that the group bantered in high spirits, commenting on the highlights of what they had seen.

When they got back to Fox Hollow, he drove them to the hotel and issued their vouchers. "I'd love to take you back out in another season so you can see how different it can be," he offered. "Summer and fall are especially nice here."

The good mood of the majority seemed to rub off on the one hiker who had been most disappointed about cutting the excursion short, and Brandon let out a sigh of relief when they gathered their equipment and trundled into the hotel.

Brandon waved goodbye and checked the time. If he hurried, he could go home, unpack, and still be back to eat dinner at the hotel bar and catch Riley's set. After a full day of hiking, he couldn't promise to last until the end of the evening, but the thought of getting a little time together perked him up from the disappointing outing.

Snow that cut the excursion short didn't bother the people in town. Plows and salt trucks cycled through the streets, and Brandon's SUV could handle the weather.

He found a spot at the bar and ordered dinner. The cold and the exertion had given him quite an appetite, and despite his moose's prodding to strip leaves and twigs in the woods, Brandon was much more in the mood for a cheeseburger and fries.

We weren't really going to be in any danger. Worst case we could have hauled them all out on a sledge.

I have no desire to cause a panic or attract the wrong kind of attention, Brandon reminded his other half. Museums still stuff and display moose, you know—especially maybe a moose shifter who gets caught on camera.

Barbaric. When have moose ever done the same to people?

Taxidermy is tough with hooves instead of hands.

That's not the point.

The idea of shifting had occurred to Brandon in case of an extreme emergency. Still, he didn't want to end up on social media even though Fox Hollow had a long reputation as a home for shifters. People who might believe that the psychics at the Institute were real often just smiled and nodded at the idea of shifters. Brandon knew that the unrealistic depiction in television shows and movies didn't help encourage acceptance of the real thing. Whether the denial was good or bad remained up for debate.

No one wanted to end up conscripted into a secret government project. Brandon had seen enough movies to know that never ended well. He suspected that the witches that were part of the Institute played a part in keeping the town from gaining the wrong kind of notice.

"I didn't think you'd be back yet." Riley took the stool next to his, and Brandon noticed that the other man managed to move his seat a few inches closer than it had been.

"Couldn't stay away," Brandon joked, twitching his fingers just enough to stroke Riley's hand.

Riley gave a coy smile in return. "I like the sound of that."

Brandon sighed. "It's true—and being here tonight is a benefit. The sky looked bad. I think the storm is going to hit sooner than we originally thought. Didn't want a bunch of less experienced hikers out in the wild if that happened."

"Makes sense. I bet you're a good guide."

"When the weather breaks, I'd love to show you my favorite places," Brandon offered. "They don't all need a big hike to get to. There's a lot of beautiful scenery and some spots other people overlook."

"That sounds really good." Riley's fingers slid close and stayed touching Brandon's hand.

"Haven't forgotten that dinner invitation either," Brandon said. "Just as soon as the weather breaks."

Riley met his gaze. Brandon wanted to believe he read the same interest—and lust—that he felt. He hoped that was the case. Much as Brandon knew it was best to take things slow, especially since he didn't know much about Riley's past, his cock had other ideas.

Mate, his moose nudged. You'll always be in rut for your true mate.

I am not in rut.

Whatever you want to tell yourself, his moose dismissed.

"I'd like to see all your favorite places." Riley dropped his voice to a lower pitch that sent blood straight to Brandon's groin. "Do you ever do private tours?"

"Only for very special people." It had been so long since Brandon had flirted, he feared he was hopelessly out of practice. He admired Riley's easy confidence and lightheartedness. Brandon knew he could be moody and fearful of failure, but if the horoscopes were right, a Gemini lover would add balance and fun. He would have pursued Riley regardless of his sign, but knowing they were a perfect zodiac match boosted his confidence.

They ordered burgers, and after the server left, Riley still studied the menu.

"I'm sort of surprised that for a wilderness kind of place, there isn't more exotic stuff on the menu," Riley observed. "Like venison—or local fish."

Brandon fought the urge to heave. Most people thought of deer when they mentioned venison, but it could also mean elk or moose.

"I'm not a fan," he said, not wanting to throw up on his crush. "Doesn't set well with me."

"Just curious."

"I don't think you'd like it," Brandon said hurriedly. "Too gamey and tough."

I bet you wouldn't say that if he wanted to suck on your meatstick, his moose prompted.

Don't be crude.

Get him to come home with you and impress him with your sizeable…rack.

If you ever want that to happen, go away.

Fussy one, aren't you? his other half grumped, but he retreated in Brandon's mind.

"I guess I can see not wanting to eat wild game if you're a guide," Riley said.

Without Riley understanding about the shifters, Brandon couldn't explain that game meat was strictly off the menu in Fox Hollow. Livestock was a safer source, avoiding tragic hunting mistakes or issues around cannibalism. Elsewhere in the Adirondacks, hunting was both big business and a popular hobby. But it was banned within a ten-mile radius around Fox Hollow for the safety of both the shifters and the hunters.

Brandon nodded. "I'm much more into photography."

"There are plenty of great things to take pictures of around here," Riley replied. "I've never been one for hunting either."

Thank heavens.

"Oh—I wanted to tell you. I saw a real moose! It was at the edge of the woods outside my motel room," Riley said excitedly. "I only saw the silhouette, but it was absolutely…majestic."

"Oh yeah?" Brandon tried not to preen.

"I never realized how big they are," Riley went on. "Just huge. I was expecting something more like deer. I saw those in a petting zoo I went to as a kid."

Brandon snorted. "I don't think you'll find moose in a petting zoo."

"The antlers alone are massive," Riley gushed. "And it was so tall."

"Keep an eye out. You might see him again."

"He looked like something out of a legend." Riley sounded smitten.

He thinks we're handsome. Did you hear that?

Except he doesn't know it was us.

Still, it's a good omen for when he finds out. He will swoon over our mooseness and fall madly in love.

Get over yourself.

"I was wondering—is it true that there are shifters in Fox Hollow?"

Brandon barely avoided choking. "Why do you ask?"

To Riley's credit, he didn't dismiss the idea out of hand. "Jeffries said this was a haven for psychics and shifters, and psychics are real, so why not shifters? Have you ever met one?"

"Probably. I doubt a shifter would announce it unless they trusted someone," Brandon sidestepped. He glanced around the bar. Half the people there were shifters, and the others were with the Institute. Fox Hollow discouraged year-round residents without supernatural abilities. Having a witch nudge a prospect's interests to the next town might strain real estate ethics, but the townsfolk had too much at risk to let "mundanes" settle permanently, although tourists were always welcome.

"Are you looking forward to your classes at the Institute?" Brandon hoped Riley would offer a clue about the subject. Try as he might, Brandon couldn't read him, feeding his suspicions that whatever Riley was studying had something to do with his unusually quiet thoughts.

"I guess. Trying to figure out if something is a talent or a deficiency." Riley looked down.

"Every superpower has its pluses and minuses." Brandon intentionally tried to lighten the mood. He had the feeling that Riley felt conflicted about whatever brought him to the Institute.

"I guess you're right. I'm just so impressed with the idea that some people can read minds or see the future. That seems so…useful."

Brandon moved his hand to slide along Riley's. "I guess it all depends. Abilities don't have to be like in the movies to be powerful. Sometimes small gifts can have a big impact."

"I guess I'll learn all about that," Riley replied. "People here are very laid back about the whole thing."

"You're new in town. Once people get to know you, they'll open up," Brandon replied. "They just need to trust you."

Riley met his gaze. "What about you? Bend any spoons? Raise the dead? Light candles without a match?"

Brandon looked away, trying to figure out how to answer without lying in a way that didn't scare Riley off. "I hear thoughts." He decided that if the truth came between them, then there had never been any chance of connecting.

"Seriously? Like a mind-reader?" Riley seemed curious, not frightened.

"I try very hard not to hear people," Brandon said. "I don't go around eavesdropping. Actually, most of the time, it's difficult to screen people out because it's like everyone is a radio, and they're all playing at full volume. It's noisy."

"What about me?" Riley raised his gaze to meet Brandon's, and Brandon felt something shift between them. "What do you read from me?"

"Nothing. I mean, nothing beyond what non-psychic people can pick up just from body language. So your deep, dark secrets are safe." Brandon hoped he didn't scare Riley away.

"Nothing at all?" Riley pressed, and his intensity made Brandon curious.

Brandon concentrated, and chanced laying his hand over Riley's. Physical contact usually strengthened a psychic connection. Brandon picked up more of Riley's feelings but not his thoughts.

"I can get a little of your emotions, but not what you're thinking," Brandon said. "Please don't be weirded out. I don't go around listening in if I can help it. People deserve privacy and there's a whole lot of stuff I just don't want to know."

"What am I feeling right now?" Riley had a glint in his eyes.

Brandon took a chance and held his hand. Riley didn't pull away. "You're curious. And you're not afraid." He stared at Riley, wondering if the other man could read his hope and vulnerability even without being psychic. "But not words or actual thoughts. Just surface feelings."

Riley nodded. "I'm a nil. At least, that's what I've been told. Dr. Jeffries says we're rare, and he's going to do a study with me. It's not something I can control—at least, not as far as I know," he dropped his gaze. "I hope that's not a bad thing."

Brandon squeezed his hand. "No, not bad at all. Thank you for telling me. I suspected, but I didn't know for sure—because I can't read you much. And don't apologize…it's kind of peaceful."

"Really?"

Brandon nodded. "People are noisy. It's distracting. Some think so loud it's very hard not to overhear. I've had to spend years learning how to screen them out—for their sake and mine."

Riley seemed to be taking the confession very well, Brandon thought. He wondered if the other man would accept his moose as easily.

"I can see that. Thank you for telling me." Riley paused. "I'm going to think real hard at you. Tell me if you can figure it out."

He leaned forward on his elbows and stared into Brandon's eyes with a glint of mischief. "What am I thinking now?"

Brandon shut his eyes and concentrated. He didn't see images, but his heightened sense of smell picked up a shift in pheromones, and his cock twitched in response. Everything about Riley's body language and voice signaled attraction and flirting.

"I think you might be in favor of getting to know each other better." Brandon grinned as he opened his eyes.

"And here you didn't think you could read me," Riley teased with a coy smile.

"I'd like that," Brandon admitted and held his breath. He didn't think Riley was toying with him, but he braced for rejection.

"I would too." Riley stroked Brandon's fingers. "Maybe we can get snowed in together. Then we'd have to conserve body heat."

"Hmm…sounds fun even if we're not snowbound," Brandon replied.

Riley's phone chimed. "Time for me to go entertain the crowd. Can you stay?"

"For the first set. I was up really early with the tour, and we came back in deep snow. How about we go to the Moose Festival together? You're playing there, right?"

"Only for an hour. And I hear there's food."

Brandon rolled his eyes. "They rename a lot of snacks to be moose-ish. But it's fun. And I'm reading a couple of children's stories and giving a short presentation on moose. Otherwise, we can wander—and I'll buy dinner afterward."

"It's a date." Riley let his fingertips trail along the back of Brandon's hand before he left to go to the stage. Brandon smelled Riley's intoxicating scent and felt his body react regardless of how tired he was.

Brandon smiled, hoping Riley could read his interest and attraction. "Knock 'em dead out there."

Much as he enjoyed Riley's singing, Brandon felt himself fading after the first set. He stayed just long enough to say goodnight to Riley, who walked him out to his SUV.

"Do you have a safe way back to the motel?" The Lake Motel was only a mile away, but even that could seem like a formidable distance in bad weather.

Riley nodded. "Mr. Todd said that if it got bad, he'd let me stay here. How far do you have to go?"

"My cabin is pretty close. I'll be fine." Brandon wasn't worried about his SUV making it through the snow, and in a pinch, he could trek since he had skis with him.

"Rest up. We've got the Moose Festival coming up," Riley told him, moving closer. He stretched up on his toes and pressed a kiss to Brandon's lips.

"For luck." Riley winked and tossed a glance over his shoulder before he hurried back inside.

Brandon smiled and touched his fingertips to his lips.

Mate, his moose cheered. Told you so.

By the time Brandon got to his cabin, the wind sent snow in drifts across the road and several more inches had fallen. He got a fire going in the fireplace and checked the generator, bringing an ample load of wood inside for the night. Clapping his mittened hands together didn't restore feeling in his numbed fingers, so he hurried his preparations.

Brandon unloaded anything that would be damaged by the cold and parked the SUV in the detached garage. He stomped the snow from his boots as he went inside, and the wind erased his prints in seconds.

He changed into comfortable sweats and warm socks and made himself a cup of hot chocolate and some popcorn. As tired as Brandon felt, he wasn't quite relaxed enough to go to bed.

His phone chimed as he settled on the couch, a number he didn't recognize. "Hello?"

"Did you get home safely? I was worried," Riley asked.

Brandon smiled, feeling warm inside that his crush cared. "Just now. Please tell me you're staying at the hotel. It's bad out there."

"I'm staying here. The second set ended early because people wanted to get home. I think even the hotel emergency staff are staying overnight."

"That's good. It's not worth getting in a wreck—or stranded. Thanks for being safe." Brandon was surprised at how much he already cared for Riley and had to agree with his moose about them being mates.

I told you so.

Brandon ignored his other half's snark. "Do you have everything you need if you can't get out for a couple of days?"

"I stuck a spare outfit in my car, just in case. I've got e-books and, if the power goes out and I can't recharge, some paperbacks. Or I can sleep. At least I won't go hungry," Riley replied. "How about you?"

"I stocked up, so I'll be fine," Brandon replied. "Not my first snowmageddon."

"Sleep tight," Riley said. "And now you have my number."

"Stay warm." Brandon already saved Riley's information as a contact. He sighed when they ended the call. It surprised him how much he missed Riley even though they had just seen each other a few hours ago.

He's our mate. Of course we miss him.

Yeah, but how do I explain that to him? He's not a moose.

Mixed matings are hard. He's attracted to you. That's a good thing.

It would be better if the snow wasn't being a cock-blocker.

True mates find a way.

Brandon flipped channels as he ate his popcorn and sipped hot chocolate with a shot of Kahlua, letting the tension from the day drain away.

All things considered, it was good. I made the right call about ending the tour early, and no one seemed too upset about it. Got to see Riley—and he kissed me. So, I'm not imagining that he's interested. And we have a date—if we get a break in the weather.

His phone buzzed a few moments after he got into bed, with a call from Riley.

"What are you wearing?" Riley asked, and Brandon chuckled.

"Boxer briefs," Brandon replied. "How about you?" His moose always ran hot.

"A T-shirt and flannel pajama pants—and I'm still cold," Riley replied. "Any ideas on how to warm up?"

That was an invitation if Brandon ever heard one. "I can think of a few. Did you have anything in mind?"

"I've heard that sharing body heat can keep someone from freezing to death. I'd hate to get hypothermia."

"Hmm, that wouldn't be good," Brandon returned. "You don't want to get frostbite in sensitive areas."

"I'd like to warm up your sensitive areas," Riley said.

"What are you doing?"

"Touching myself. But I'd rather be touching you."

Brandon felt himself harden. He hadn't expected this from Riley, not this soon anyhow, but he wasn't going to object.

"I'd rather you be touching me too. And I'd like to warm you up all over."

"Mmm," Riley returned. "That sounds like a great idea. We should have stayed together tonight. To ward off hypothermia."

"Exactly."

"Tell me what you like." Brandon imagined Riley lying in his bed, pants shoved down, stroking himself.

"A firm grip…smooth stroke top to bottom…don't forget the balls."

Brandon did his best to hold the phone with his left hand while he slicked his right and began working himself.

"I wouldn't forget them. But I'd suck you first."

Brandon had to grip the base of his cock to keep from coming too soon. "Yeah. Sounds real good."

"Are you close already?"

Brandon was too horny to be embarrassed. It had been too long since he'd had a partner in bed, and even if Riley was long-distance, he was not a figment of Brandon's imagination. "Yeah. Been a while. You?"

"Close. Same. Wish we were together."

"Me too."

"After we go out for dinner, come back to my room with me. We can do this all over again." Riley's invitation and the mental picture it raised in Brandon's mind, pushed him over the edge, and he pumped his come over his fist with a groan.

"Come for me," Brandon murmured.

"Already did. Damn."

Brandon grabbed a tissue and wiped his hand, then fell back onto the bed. "This would be better in person."

"Thinking the same thing. But I couldn't wait."

"Glad you didn't," Brandon replied.

"Sleep tight. See you soon," Riley answered.

"You too."

Brandon lay still for a few minutes, blissed out. I just had phone sex with Riley.

That was not sex. Have you forgotten how? his moose countered.

It was definitely a good start. Phone sex wasn't something Brandon had done often, but with Riley, the reluctance melted away.

We could shift and walk back to town. Then we wouldn't be alone.

Let's not surprise him with our mooseness just yet. Don't want to freak him out.

Humans freak out easily, his moose said. Our mooseness is magnificent.

Brandon chuckled as his moose retreated to the back of his mind in a snit. I'm glad he's interested and thinking about getting together. I'm willing to take it slow and make it last. If he's really our mate, that will be okay.

His moose chuffed. Fine.