Chapter Eighteen

NASH

At some point, I woke — proof that I had actually fallen asleep — though not to the sound of Erin’s alarm. Something else. I rolled to my side and peered around. It was still dark — around midnight, maybe, when even the crickets had turned in for the night. Erin hadn’t drawn the curtains on the front windows — no need to in a place this remote — and I could make out a couple of bright stars.

I sniffed the air, because I’d been woken by a noise. What?

A high, warbling howl broke out in the distance. Then another, and another in an off-pitch chorus that carried through the night.

Coyotes. I sank back, listening. What were they singing about? Love, life, and longing, or something less profound?

Whatever the subject, the rising and falling tune drew me out of bed and onto the front porch. I pulled on my jeans on the way and threw the blanket over my shoulders. Then I stood quietly, carving peace out of the night the way a miner extracted gems from solid rock. That was a new habit of mine, ever since…

I frowned. Ever since Angelina.

Every breath I puffed crystalized in the cold night air. I raised my arms, tempted to shift, fly, and revel in a perfect night. I closed my eyes, picturing myself soaring over mesas, slaloming between rock formations, and skimming over the creek. Erin could fly with me, and—

The door creaked behind me, and I whirled, dropping my arms.

“Hi,” Erin murmured, blinking like a sleepy cat.

Joy, then inexplicable sadness hit me as the fantasy evaporated. Erin couldn’t fly. Not as a dragon, at least, and not on nights like these. She would never know the thrill of a barrel roll or the tickle of wind under her wings. She would never glide at my side…

I gulped, forcing the sorrow away. “Nice night.”

Her feet were bare, her body wrapped in a flannel robe. Together, we gazed out over the landscape, neither uttering a word.

After a while, she gestured toward the cliffs. “Even without magic, it would still feel magical out here.”

I knew what she meant. Vortex and Harlon aside, there were a hundred reasons not to sell this place.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Were you, er…getting ready to go for a run?”

No, I’d been thinking of flying. But, shoot. Erin thought I was a wolf shifter. Why the hell had I let her believe that?

Let me show her, my dragon begged. Right here, right now. She’d like me. She likes flying, right?

Yes, but she’d hate me for lying.

You didn’t lie. You just didn’t correct her when she assumed.

Something told me Erin wouldn’t see it that way.

“Just looking at the stars,” I bluffed.

Erin chuckled. “When we were little, we thought the stars were closer here than anywhere else in the world.”

I pictured her, Pippa, and Abby wrapped in blankets, gazing at the stars from the porch of the main house. But she’d only mentioned summers at the ranch, right?

“We spent Christmas here a few times, and it was just like this,” she said.

I held my breath. Coincidence, or had my thoughts drifted into her mind?

Most supernaturals could communicate without speaking, but it usually took concerted effort — or urgency, like at Harlon’s party. But to casually pick up on each other’s thoughts as readily as if they’d been uttered…

No coincidence, my dragon growled. It’s destiny.

If it was, I wasn’t ready to admit it. I did inch a little closer, though.

“Orion…Canis Major…Gemini…” Erin pointed out constellations like old friends. When she turned to locate Taurus, we bumped, but for once, we didn’t jump apart.

“Taurus,” she murmured, turning slowly to follow the Milky Way — all the way around until we were inches apart and face-to-face. She blinked, readjusting her focus to me. I could tell the exact moment she did, because her lip wobbled.

“Your eyes…”

Were they glowing? I turned away, but she cupped my face and turned me back gently.

“Wow.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t look away.

The space between us warmed, and her lips moved again.

I pulled in a sharp breath, and she tilted her head. “What?”

“Don’t do that,” I murmured.

Keep doing that, my dragon countered. Please , don’t stop.

“Don’t do what?”

I gulped. “That…that thing with your lips. Your eyes…”

I could have added your body , because she’d leaned forward, coming nice and close.

“What about my eyes?” she whispered.

I struggled for words, because her eyes held an entire universe, with bright flecks of emerald and gold. Those highlights had always been always there but tonight, they flared in brilliant bursts of energy.

I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and kept my fingers in that silky goodness a little too long.

“It’s like the Milky Way snuck into them,” I said.

She laughed. “Well, your eyes are like a bonfire. Two bonfires.”

The midnight breeze wound its way around us, ruffling her hair. I sniffed, catching her scent — and so many other details. For the past months, my senses had been strangely dulled. Now, they all piqued. I felt the silky texture of her hair…inhaled her wild flower scent…registered her body heat.

I turned away. The longer I stood close to Erin, the more I lost my grip on myself. She was losing her grip too.

In a good way, my dragon insisted.

Was it? I only had the vaguest memories of my encounter with Angelina — the lone silver lining in that hellish storm cloud — but I was pretty sure it had started like this.

Totally different, my dragon huffed.

That was the thing, though — telling the difference between deception and genuine desire.

Erin cupped my face, keeping her gaze locked on mine.

No deception there , my dragon insisted.

I nearly groaned at the contact. Wait, I did groan. The jeans I’d pulled on usually fit comfortably, but they were getting tight fast.

I slid my hands to her wrists and tugged them gently away.

“You know what they say about playing with fire…” I rasped.

She grinned slyly. “Oh, I know all about fire.”

Whoosh! My inner furnace jumped up another ten degrees.

“What about ‘don’t mix business and pleasure’?” I tried.

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you do what other people say? I don’t.”

I didn’t have time to answer, because Erin brushed her lips over mine. Just a tiny brush but flames erupted throughout my body.

The Milky Way in her eyes turned into comets, and she did it again. And again and again. Then, just as my eyes were glazing over and my hands sneaking to her waist, she pulled back a little and gazed directly into my eyes.

My feet were firm on the ground, but inside, I teetered. Or maybe the earth had started spinning faster, around and around like one of those merry-go-round spinners that got kids all dizzy and excited.

Yeah, that was how I felt. Dizzy. Excited.

Erin ran her thumb slowly over my chin, then my lips.

“Every time I get close to you, this happens,” she mumbled.

This was the pull, the need to get close. To touch. To kiss.

“Not my fault,” I tried.

Destiny, my dragon whispered.

Erin chuckled. “Yes, it is.”

My mind spun. Yes, it was my fault, or yes, it was destiny?

My heart hammered. Any second now, Erin would turn pink, whisper a hasty sorry, and disappear into the house. We would go back to bed quietly, separately, and lonelier than ever before. Then, we would get up in the morning and pretend nothing had happened.

I don’t want to pretend, my dragon growled. I don’t want to—

Erin cut off those protests with another brush of the lips. Then she slid her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. So hard, I stifled a groan. It was that good.

She paused, and when she met my eyes, she did a double take.

“Wow again.”

I gulped. “What are they doing now?”

She stared a minute longer, then shook her head and closed in for another kiss. “Hard to explain. But I like it.”

Which pretty much summed up the chemistry between us. Hard to explain, but boy, did I like it.

Those first few kisses were the kind that scouted the territory ahead. The next few went deeper and longer.

“I keep trying to resist this, but I can’t,” Erin whispered between shaky breaths. “I don’t want to.”

A damn good thing, because I’d just backed her against a porch column and pressed close. The blanket was draped around us both by then, and my hands slipped, tracing her ribs. Higher, higher…

Erin tipped her head back, freeing the way for me to kiss her neck. To nip. Her hands tightened around my neck, pulling me closer.

Drunk on her scent, I slid my hands higher, cupping the underside of her breasts. No bra, because she’d worn a T-shirt and boxers to bed. A huge plus, because the soft flesh fell right into my hands. Her nipples peaked, and when I swiped a thumb over one, she arched, fighting for control…but losing it.

Like me.