Fated Souls (6 page)

“You got them all pegged to a T.” He laughed. “Maybe I should play sometime?”

“I already know what kind of card player you’d be.” At his blank stare, she smiled. “You’d want to play it balls to the wall, but you’d put instinct in check and take the safest, quietest hand, make the most reserved bets, and fold rather than risk chance.” She saw his walls come down like she knew they would, and was irritated at herself for doing it. But she hadn’t lied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out enough to cover both their orders and a decent tip.

“I should get going. Thanks for accepting my apology and for the dessert. I’d have never thought to wash down key lime pie with a chocolate milkshake; it’s a great combination.”

“You never know what will go great together ’til you try.” She knew he got the innuendo; he was too damn smart not to have. “See you tonight.”

She watched him battle with what he wanted to say, and she wished for a moment he had the courage to say it, whatever it was. But she had known he wouldn’t.

Maggie snuggled further into her sleeping bag as the temperature dropped a few more degrees. Over the weeks, she’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm: she spent her nights in the forest, her days asleep, and her evenings writing. But she was no closer to the answers she craved, and the cost of living as a guest in Trappers’ Cove as well as keeping up with her bills at home were cutting dramatically into her nest egg faster than she had anticipated. She was going to have to consider either going home without the truth or finding freelance opportunities to supplement her income. She shivered when she consider the reality of going home essentially empty handed.

The wolf felt her shudder and cuddled closer to her side. Maggie assumed he thought it was the cold. She had spent many hours with him. They’d taken to walking together through the woods — she had more sketches than she knew what to do with, shared stories with him, but he didn’t respond, couldn’t even if he wanted to. The one that could but wouldn’t had gone back to actively avoiding her after their shared meal in the diner. When she’d returned to the inn, he’d left a note for her at the front desk.

Feel free to use my stables at your leisure. Simply call Sly first to confirm. A

Since her first visit to the Gael stable, Maggie had learned that the road that passed Aidan’s home continued directly to the stable before dead-ending and she could easily park there. In truth, she had suspected as much on her first visit to the stable or she would’ve seen Sly’s vehicle in front of Aidan’s home. But she had wanted a chance to peek in his windows and walk his grounds before essentially sneaking up on the two men inside the stable. Now she simply drove straight there, parked, and shouted a greeting before entering. Sly lived above and she did not relish the idea of catching him in his boxers, or worse, while retrieving the morning paper or a cup of caffeine.

She’d gone riding several times now, and as much as she loved it, she always left disappointed at seeing Aidan only from a distance. Short of stalking him, something she refused to stoop to, she had no avenues left to pursue. She couldn’t force him to tell her what she wanted to know. She didn’t know where he transformed, assuming he even did. She hadn’t been able to discover even a trace of evidence to suggest she was close to the location. She’d stopped by his home in the evenings, after dark, and the lights were on, his truck parked out front, and sometimes she could hear the television or music playing inside, but he never answered the door and she never saw him through the windows. Yeah, she’d peeked. She tried in the mornings, but missed him then as well.

She tried to tell herself that she was being obstinate. Perhaps he wasn’t a werewolf. Maybe she’d somehow managed to pick up and connect with a strangely domesticated wild wolf in the Chengwatana Forest that had eyes the same unique shade of green as Aidan Gael’s. A man who was clearly attracted to her and who also shared some sort of earth-shaking soul-questioning connection with her. But both events were unrelated and coincidental. Okay, that sounds preposterous, even for me, she chided. She knew what she knew, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“I’m not going to be able to stay here much longer. It’s getting too expensive for an unemployed gal like me to continue on what has essentially become a vacation.” The wolf looked up at her with forlorn eyes. “I don’t want to go; I’ll miss you so much. It’s not even like I can promise to call or write for Christ’s sake. Your alter ego refuses to acknowledge what I know is true, and I can’t very well send you letters care of his address. How would I address them? Dear Wolf?”

She snorted and the wolf huffed out his patented chuckle. She ran her fingers through his fine pelt. “I should’ve given you a name. I can’t call you Aidan, because … well, I just can’t.” The wolf growled low in his throat, a sound of disapproval, not of anger. “And apparently you don’t like that idea either.”

Maggie shifted her weight and the wolf stood, stretching his long body out. She tried to unzip her bag and it wouldn’t budge. Again. “Goddamn it, I’m stuck in this freaking thing again.” She slowly stood and then shimmied her body so that the bag slithered down to pool at her feet. “I’m heading in early tonight. I’m going for a ride in the morning, and the last time I was so tired, Bessie almost threw me, and Bessie is a very gentle mare. I have to get a few hours shut eye in a comfortable bed.” The wolf licked her hand goodbye and bounded into the darkness.

• • •

Aidan stood just outside the doors of the stable and listened to Maggie sing quietly to the horse as she combed its mane. He smiled as he heard the graphic words she was cooing. He very much doubted the band sang them in quite that way. Whistling a country tune, Aidan strolled into the dark interior. Maggie straightened when she heard him enter behind her and watched suspiciously as he crossed the barn. He grabbed two of the several pitchforks resting in the corner and, crossing back to her, handed her one.

“You ride, you work,” he stated simply and moved to an empty stall to start shoveling out the dirty hay. He had his back turned but heard her shoveling across the aisle. He wasn’t sure how to start a conversation, but he needn’t have worried.

“So, Aidan, want to play a game?”

“What kind of game?” He was hesitant and a little suspicious, but at least he wasn’t bored.

“Twenty questions. I ask you one, you answer honestly, then you ask me one and I answer honestly.”

“Doesn’t seem like much of game to me. How do you determine who wins?”

“Easy. First person who lies or refuses to answer loses.” He thought about it, sure she’d ask him something he’d lie about or evade right off, making him the loser. “If you’re scared to play, that’s fine, we can shovel in silence.” She was goading him and he knew it. “Or I could go back to singing since you enjoyed it so much.”

He laughed lightly; she’d known he was right outside listening, but she hadn’t stopped singing. Off-key. “Okay, but I’m going first.”

“Shoot.” He could hear the shovel moving and the breathy quality her voice had taken on as she worked.

“Rumor has it your paper pulled your bank roll. Why?”

“Oh nicely done. Rather than waste a question asking if it were true, you jump to the why. I’d missed my deadline and they wanted me to come home. I wasn’t ready to and took some personal time. My turn.” Aidan tensed, waiting for the inevitable. “Why do they call this place the Cherry Farm?”

He relaxed, surprised at the question. “I have absolutely no idea and no one I’ve ever asked has known the answer. It’s just always been called that. Why weren’t you ready to leave?”

“I didn’t get the answers I came for yet. Why do you only have mares?” Aidan thought about it and realized she was right, he only had mares. He laughed quickly.

“I didn’t realize I did until you pointed it out. Guess I haven’t found a stud I really wanted to own.”

“Yeah I got a similar problem.” He could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see her face. “Your turn.”

“What’s with the concert t-shirts?” Now he could hear her laughing. He’d seen her in no less than seven different tour shirts. Today was Aerosmith. Aidan glanced over his shoulder and watched her ass move under the denim as she worked. Sucking in the pungent air, he struggled to fight the sudden knot of desire lodged in his gut.

“Guilty pleasure. I download shamelessly, but I also go to concerts, a lot of concerts. I pay exorbitant ticket prices and then buy myself an overpriced, poor quality concert tee as both souvenir and karmic justice. What kind of music do you listen to?”

“Mostly country, some classic rock, and the occasional classical piece.” He thought he heard her groan. “I take it you don’t approve?”

“I have a firm dislike of country music, no offense. You ever use that Jacuzzi?”

“I believe it’s my turn, Maggie.”

“No, you asked if I approved of your musical preferences. Don’t waste your questions. Jacuzzi?” He smiled. She was clever. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun mucking stalls.

“Yes, often. It’s best just after daylight, when the sun hasn’t fully risen yet, the air is still cool, there’s dew on every blade of grass in the meadow so the entire expanse of it glitters, and you can see the steam rising off the water as it bubbles. How long are you staying?”

“Yesterday I would have said until I get the answers I’m looking for, but practicality overrides will. I’ll be leaving soon, just haven’t decided how soon. I can’t exactly afford to stay as I’m currently unemployed. Are we up to twenty yet? I forgot to count.”

“Ten. You’d stay longer if you could afford to?” He asked it nonchalantly, as though his world didn’t depend on her answer. Then he silently tried to convince himself it didn’t.

“Hey it’s my turn.”

“Nope you asked how many we were up to. Don’t waste your questions.” She chuckled when he tossed her words back at her, and Aidan thought he would probably never tire of hearing her laughter. The sound made him think of childhood; sunny days; sandy beaches; and snowball fights in the winter. His childhood had been happy and he’d taken it for granted. He thought probably all children did. But all that had been stripped from him when he was barely old enough to be called a man. Then the wolf had become his reality and he’d closeted himself away from the world for so long he’d forgotten the simple warmth of sharing laughter with another person.

Maggie’s laugh filled him with a light that he both craved and feared. He knew he should continue to distance himself from her. He was worried he could become addicted to her clever smile and husky laugh. Aidan pushed the worry aside before he could talk himself out of enjoying the moment. He had sought her out this day. He meant to see it through.

“Yes, I’d stay longer if I could afford it. Why did you push me away that day?”

Aidan debated how honest he should be with her. “I was afraid. Why couldn’t I find anything online about you before college?”

“Maggie O’Connell isn’t my birth name. Afraid of me-or afraid for me?” She asked.

“Both. What’s your birth name?”

“Anastasia Boyle.” He heard the shudder in her voice, sensed there was a story behind it. He was surprised to realize he very much wanted to hear it. But not as surprised as he was when she asked her next question. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“More than I want to breathe.” His voice was almost whisper quiet, but he knew it carried in the quiet stable. Aidan looked over his shoulder again; she still had her back to him and was quietly shoveling. He wasn’t certain if the ragged breathing was hers or his. “Are you an honest person?”

“Yes. Or at least I try to be. I can’t remember the last time I intentionally lied to someone. Are you?”

“No, I’m not and I can’t remember the last time I tried to be. I only get one more. I better make it good.” Aidan thought for several minutes. The only sounds in the stable were the horses’ comforting sighs and nickers and the pitchforks scraping concrete. “What’s Sly’s given name?”

Maggie laughed at the question, obviously taken by surprise. Aidan was glad for it. She was a constant surprise to him. He often found himself delighted with something she said the few times he’s allowed himself to converse with her. He thought her addicting and that terrified him. He watched her now as she turned toward him, shaking her head from side to side.

“Sorry, Aidan, I forgot to tell you the only rule: no divulging anyone else’s secrets. I gave my word. You’ll have to ask me something else.”

“Forget it, I win. You refused to answer.” He leaned back and noticed they’d cleaned out all the stalls in record time. She was leaning against the pitchfork; sweat-dampened tendrils stuck to the sides of her face, her Aerosmith t-shirt sodden around the neckline. He hadn’t had this relaxed a time with anyone in so long it made his heart ache.

“Bullshit.” She laughed again and Aidan felt the ache shrink just a little.

“Your rules, rock star, I just played by them.” He ambled over to her, reluctant to end the good-natured banter and pleasant buzz of sexual attraction. He reached out to take the fork from her, but instead brushed the curls from her temple and removed a hunk of hay from her hair. “Have breakfast with me tomorrow? We can use the Jacuzzi and eat on the deck.” Aidan’s eyes fell to her mouth. Her tongue darted out to slick across her full bottom lip, and he felt the ache shift from heart to loins.

“I’ll have to buy a bathing suit,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. He could see his desire and need mirrored in her eyes. His other hand came up until her face was framed within his palms. He rubbed his thumb across her moist bottom lip and the pink flesh trembled. “Aidan.”

Then he heard the truck pull up out front and knew Sly had returned. He gave her a wry, disappointed look and gently kissed her forehead as the truck door slammed shut. Aidan took the fork from her and was replacing them both when Sly shuffled in, a bale of fresh hay in his arms.

“Hi, boss,” he said in surprise and Aidan saw him toss an inquiring look at Maggie, saw her delicately shrug her shoulders and return to combing Bessie’s mane as she’d been when Aidan had joined her in the stable. “I had planned on mucking those out when I got back.”