Grayslake: More than Mated: A Bite of Love (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

3

Case

I pried the last screw from the slat in the swing. It was rusted just like all the others were. It didn’t make sense to try to repair the splintered boards. I glared at the swing. There was a pile of boards on the floor. I had spent the entire day taking it apart and keeping busy. Using my hands to build and repair. But it was nothing but a pile of twisted wood and splinters.

The sweat dripped from my brow. My shoulders were sunburned. Working in the heat stoked my annoyance at the old swing. It was no longer the place I used to sit and talk to my grandmother, or where I would line up my miniature race cars and push them off the end to see which one hit the floor first. It wasn’t a place of solitude and thought. It was a fucking pain in my ass.

I kicked the armrest, dislodging the chain from the ceiling and what was left of the swing came crashing to the porch. It banged and clattered in a heap.

“Damn it.”

I picked it up and tossed it over the railing, hurling it into the woods, losing sight of it behind the thick foliage. I gathered the stacks of boards I had spent the day stripping, and hurled them in the same direction.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me. “Mmmhmm.”

I turned instantly. My eyes landed on a petite girl with shoulder-length blond hair and pale blue eyes. How had she snuck up on me? I hadn’t heard her drive up to the house.

She extended a wide aluminum pan. “Did you call about a dinner order?”

I wiped my hands on my jeans, reaching for my T-shirt. It dangled on the banister.

I threaded it over my head, covering my bare chest. I had worked all day without a shirt. I saw how her eyes raked over my skin.

“Yeah. I did. What did you bring?”

“It’s lasagna.”

I could tell she was studying me. She had seen me haul the swing off the porch. She was trying to assess how dangerous I was.

I shook my head. “I hate Italian.”

Her eyes flared. “Who hates Italian?”

“I do.” I barked back. “What else do you have?”

My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday and had barely taken enough of a break to search for a catering number. I wasn’t planning on cooking here, but a man had to eat. I stumbled upon her website and dialed the number listed.

“This is it for the night. I told you I’m not a dinner delivery service. This was from a party that didn’t need it.” I noticed how her eyes darted to the ground. “It’s all I have. If you’re hungry, it’s yours. If not, I’m headed back to town.”

She took a step backward with the food.

“Wait.”

The hunger pains had ratcheted up a notch with the whiff of home cooked food.

“I’ll try it.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I thought you hated Italian.”

“I do, but I’m hungry enough to eat an arm, so I might as well try it.”

There was sudden fear on her face.

I shook my head. “Not
your
arm.” It made me chuckle. I was so pissed; I didn’t know I had a smile left in me. It came out of nowhere.

I yanked on the screen door and turned. “Are you coming?”

“With you? Inside?” There was alarm in those baby blues.

“Yes. I’m not going to bite.”

She looked hesitant. “I pretty much know all the shifters in Grayslake. There have always been rumors about the Maddoxes. After I heard the growl on the phone and now the stunt with the swing, I’m putting two and two together. But we’ve never met. I need to know what you are.”

“You are kind of blunt aren’t you?” I asked, standing in the doorway.

Where I had lived for two years, humans didn’t know about shifters. It was one of the bittersweet parts about living there. We kept our identities a secret, but at the same time it gave us a kind of freedom shifters in open towns didn’t have.

“I’m not blunt. I just want to know whose house I’m walking into. The Maddoxes are kind of a mystery around here.”

“Jaguar,” I answered. “And I don’t think humans taste very good. Now will you come in? I’m hungry.”

She pulled her shoulders back. I had to give it to her. I could tell she was nervous. And yet, she marched forward, carrying that huge pan of food. Was she brave or stubborn?

I flipped on the kitchen light and pointed to the counter. She slid the dish across the yellow Formica countertops. The house had never had a makeover. Maybe I’d have better luck ripping out the countertops than I did with the porch swing.

I dug through the drawers looking for a fork.

“Let me help.” She started opening cabinets and retrieved a white china plate. “Wow, this is gorgeous.”

She held the plate delicately between her hands. It was long enough for me to notice her left hand was bare.

“It was my grandmother’s set,” I explained.

“Are you sure we should use it?”

I shrugged. I didn’t give a shit about the china. “There’s no one here but me.”

“Right.” She rinsed it off and dried the plate.

I watched while she sliced through the lasagna and scooped a large helping onto the plate.

“I take it your Cadence?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Cadence. Cadence Hathaway and yes, this is my business. I’m the only caterer in Grayslake.”

“Really?”

I didn’t remember much about the town. When I was a kid I stayed in the woods or in the house. Every once in a while I’d ride into town and we would stop for a piece of candy or I’d get a chocolate ice cream cone. But training to be a royal leader didn’t leave much time for county jots out.

“Yes, but I’m trying to add to my client base, so if you know anyone throwing a party or anything.” She smiled, serving me a plate of one of my least favorite foods.

“What about you? You have a name or do you go by tall-dark-and-mysterious-jaguar?”

“Case Maddox.”

I cut into the pasta and brought a bite to my lips, inhaling the first sample bite. “Hey, it’s not bad.” I chewed another mouthful.

“Thanks I guess.”

“Compliment, actually for someone who hates Italian.” I took another bite.

“Possibly.”

“How do you know about the weres here?” I didn’t detect anything magical about her. She wasn’t a shifter.

“The clan made an exception for me. I’m a provider and I’m considered neutral. I don’t get involved in any were business. I make the food—that’s all.” She crossed her arms. “So if you’re thinking about getting me involved in any kind of shifter issues—”

I cut her off. “I’m not. It was a simple question.”

“Oh, ok.” She rocked back on her heels. “Well if that’s everything I’ll let you have your dinner. I’ll leave my business cards here.” She dropped a few glossy cards next to the pan. “Maybe you’ll have a house warming or something when you’re done moving in.”

“What’s for dinner tomorrow night?” I asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Tomorrow. What are you bringing me?”

“I-uh-I don’t have anything planned. This isn’t my usual business.”

“Surprise me.”

She tilted her head a little and I saw just how many layers of blue were in those pale eyes of hers. She was pretty.

“That’s not really what I do. I keep trying to tell you.”

I pushed back from the table.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I do.” I stared at her. “I’m a king. King of the Tribe. And I want you to surprise me with dinner tomorrow night. Seven o’clock works for me.”

Her face froze in shock. “But, I—”

I walked her to the door.

“See you tomorrow, Cadence.”

“I just don’t…”

I closed the door behind her and returned to my plate of lasagna.

4

Cadence

I stood on the porch not sure if I should turn around and beat on the door, explain the situation, or just get the hell out of here.

I opted to not give Case a piece of my mind. I couldn’t lose a potential client on the first night. I walked to the van calmly. There was something about Case Maddox that I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe I was too used to the werebears. I knew nothing about jaguar shifters. Nothing.

He was broody, dark, and mysterious. I got that after just being around him for five minutes. Oh, and he was hot as hell. That was the part about him I couldn’t overlook if I tried.

He was tall with broad shoulders and the most athletically toned body I’d ever seen. I had to keep from letting my tongue hang out when he spun around on the porch without his shirt. His arms rippled with every move he made. And the eyes. I’d never seen green eyes that shimmered. I knew that was a cat shifter thing, but I’d never actually witnessed them in person. They were incredible. I imagined how they would glow at night.

Get it together, Cadence
, I scolded myself as I climbed into the van and started the engine.

His bad attitude was bigger than his sex appeal. He was bossy, cocky, and commanding.

He was not someone to get hung up on. I knew it—I just had to convince my hormones of that.

I tried to tell myself as I cranked up the radio to a country song and maneuvered onto the main road that Case was off limits. Absolutely no flirting permitted. Jaguars were unknown territory and if it wasn’t for the fact that I was in possible dire need for new clients I’d turn down the job for tomorrow night.

I realized I still could, but I’d be an idiot. I couldn’t let
Achording to Cadence
fall into a hole because of the weres in this town. But what did it mean that Case was here? Were there more jaguars on the way? Did the bear clan know he was here? Should I tell them?

I felt slightly protective of my town, as if his being here could somehow shift the balance of what I had grown accustomed to. That was ridiculous. One man couldn’t possibly have that much power to change Grayslake.

I had shivered when he told me he was a king as if a sudden icy breeze had coated my spine. A
royal
jaguar. I let that idea roll around in my head. For one of the few humans in a shifter town, I realized there was still so much I didn’t know.

I drove through sleepy Grayslake, turning on streets I had driven on my entire life. Everything felt as familiar as my own skin. I put the van in park at the back of the shop and traipsed upstairs to my one-bedroom apartment. I loved it. Small, quaint, and everything shabby chic I loved. My mother always told me if I didn’t have such a passion for cooking I should go into the refinishing business. I winced at the thought that I might have to pick up something on the side like that to keep the money coming in.

Every piece of furniture in my home was something I had painstakingly stripped, sanded, and either painted or stained myself. It wasn’t as if that career wouldn’t be something I could love too—it was only that catering had become my life.

I saw how parties brought people together. How sharing meals could end arguments, or welcome in a new family memory. What I did was important in Grayslake. I threw in dashes of happiness and joy when people least expected it.

I had a sudden memory of Case throwing a dilapidated porch swing over the side of the house. It was a shame, too. I could have whipped that piece of furniture into shape with a little elbow grease. It would have been extra cute with a few brightly colored throw pillows.

I wondered what had him so worked up. What could make someone who seemed to have such a cool exterior fire off like that?

I dropped my bag on the console table, another one of my artsy projects, slumped onto the couch, and reached for the remote. If nothing else, I could always binge-watch some of my favorite shows. My neck ached and my feet were tired from being on them all day. The clan orders always took a lot of my energy. The list on my DVR was piling up.

Somewhere after the third episode of
Fixer Upper
I fell asleep. I wasn’t certain, but it felt as if a pair of dark green emerald eyes were the last things I saw before I started to dream.

5

Case

There was a separate workshop behind the house where my grandmother had kept her tools. Over the years she had added a potting shed, and accumulated a supply of anything you could possibly think of for building or gardening. I was going to need something more powerful than what I started with yesterday if I was going to rip the kitchen apart.

I had decided the yellowed Formica needed to come out. It might be the only thing that wouldn’t remind me that my wife was on her fucking honeymoon with someone else. Fuck, I had to stop calling her that. I didn’t have a wife.

I looked up at the wooden building, lined with a tin roof. Ivy climbed the sides and on one end tree roots had started to work their way under the foundation. I waded through the tall grass in the back yard. I could add that to the list of things to do around here. I doubted the tractor was in operation.

The barn door creaked open and a scurry of wild cats ran through my legs.

“Mother f—” I bit my tongue.

They were only kittens. No telling how many wild things lived out here. There hadn’t been Maddoxes in Grayslake in a long time.

I don’t know why it hurt when I walked inside, but it did. I was flooded with memories. Memories of my brother. Memories of swinging off the loft using a rope. Memories of watching my grandmother do amazing things in this shop. She made furniture for people in Grayslake.

It was ironic I had always been surrounded by strong women, yet somehow I wasn’t prepared for the strongest one of all.

The one who had the power to grab my heart, seize it in her hands, and slowly watch as she squeezed every ounce of blood onto the ground. When had I given Dare that kind of power? When had I let her become anything other than another one of the wives on my list? She wasn’t the only one that I was meant to be with. So why did it fucking hurt so much still?

I wanted to blame her. But there was no one to blame but myself. I was the one who had convinced her to go along with my plan. I asked her to marry me. It wasn’t the other way around—it never had been.

I picked up a rusted wrench and flung it across the room before a tear fell down my cheek and betrayed me. I hastily smeared it with the back of my hand. I was a fucking king. I didn’t cry. I didn’t mourn the loss of a queen. And like hell if I was going to spend more time agonizing about how she had chosen a human over me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I retrieved it.

“What is it?” I answered.

“Your majesty, I wanted to let you know we have a situation.”

It was Donovan, the regent I had put in charge of the large territory in South Carolina. Our families had a long history of challenging each other. He was a reluctant member of the jaguars I ruled in the Tribe, but ever since I had given him the Charleston region things between us had worked.

“What’s going on?”

“Things had been quiet until yesterday,” he reported.

I nodded. “Ok.”

“One of my guys spotted a jag in the market. He was being guarded by two others. It definitely looked like they were working as his security detail.”

He had my complete attention.

“Who was it?” My gut told me I already knew who it was.

“We lost their scent on the other side of the market.”

I rolled my eyes. My good will toward Donovan just took a hit. What the hell?

“The only reason there are jaguars in Charleston is to establish some sort of presence there.” I knew they weren’t on vacation.

“Of course. We’ll track them again today. I wanted to give you a heads up. And I didn’t want to falsely identify them.”

“Just find them. I want names. Things are moving quickly.”

“I agree.”

I didn’t know how long we had until the Litchfield line tried to take hold of the territory in the southern region. They had been planning a war for over a year. I still didn’t have the complete details on their plot and it was pissing me off.

I hadn’t been able to expand my own territory, and they were fucking insane if they thought I’d give up what I’d inherited. Charleston was mine.

“Take care of it and call me back,” I ordered.

“I will. How are things there?”

“I’m out of town for a while.” I never felt the need to explain myself to the Tribe.

“Vacation?”

“No,” I snorted. This was a shitty trip if it was one.

“All right. I’ll call you tonight or in the morning with an update.”

“No matter what time,” I instructed.

The call ended and I returned to the task in the shop.

I sorted through the pile of tools on the bench and on the shelves. I needed a saw. Yesterday the screwdriver had barely been enough. But today I was going full-strength with power tools. I didn’t know how up-to-date they would be, but as long as they could cut through shit, I didn’t care.

I grabbed a circular saw wrapped in an orange cord and plugged it into a nearby outlet. It came to life as soon as I flicked the switch. I grinned. This would work.

I looked for a few more things. There was a chisel and a sledge hammer. I grabbed them, swinging the hammer over my shoulder. I headed for the house, ready for day two of demolition.

***

I hadn’t looked up to see what time it was all day. There were cabinets and chunks of Formica at my feet. The sink was filled with dust, and there might have been a few handles in there too.

I snarled when I heard a knock at the front door. Who was here?

“Knock. Knock. It’s Cadence.”

Shit. I had forgotten about the catering girl. I had plowed through another day without eating.

I pulled open the door.

“What happened?” Her mouth dropped open.

I glanced down at my shirtless chest where her eyes were planted. I was coated in sawdust. It stuck to me like sand on the beach.

“Working on a remodeling project.” I moved out of the way so she could drop off the food.

“And in here?” Her head pivoted from one side to the other, taking in the disaster that was now the kitchen.

“The project.”

I stood, observing my work. I had obliterated the place. I was proud of what I had done. A full day of complete destruction.

“What about the china?” She looked horrified.

“It’s in the guest room.”

“Oh. Are you going to put this back together somehow?” she asked curiously, taking in my work.

I hadn’t gotten that far with the plan. Right now my only focus was on tearing away everything that was broken. Ripping out what was chipped and cracked. I didn’t know how to make it right yet.

“Eventually,” I answered.

“I see.”

She placed a large tray on the coffee table in the next room. There was an open hallway between the kitchen and the living room.

“What’s for dinner?” The familiar hunger pangs had returned and I was suddenly ravenous. I worked all day without thinking about food.

I realized I made Cadence uncomfortable. For the most part I didn’t give a shit, but then there was a new part of me—the one Dare had awakened that knew I was being a complete asshole.

The new man in me had only just begun to value friendships. This man realized fighting alongside someone far outweighed fighting against them. It was the part of my humanity she had nurtured. I hadn’t been able to stifle it ever since it had emerged. It was a pain in the ass to start to give a shit.

She apprehensively tucked a curl of golden hair behind her ear. I had to admit it was sort of cute how she was nervous around me.

“So, what is tonight’s main course?” I asked, ready to tear through the foil. I was hungry enough to eat a bear.

“Well, it’s … it’s … I hope you like Tuscan. I loaded it with bacon.”

“Not really.” I shrugged, but I was willing to eat it. Ok, the new man in me wasn’t that nice.

There was a look of disappointment on her face that would have probably broken some men’s hearts. Too bad mine was already broken and shattered.

“Then what do you like?” she huffed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done the surprise thing.”

I sat on the couch, clearing the rest of the coffee table. Cadence unwrapped the container in front of me. I noticed it wasn’t as huge as what she brought last night. This was a special tray, made for one.

I shoveled in a huge bite. The pasta was creamy and rich. I swallowed before answering.

“How about steak? Ribs? I don’t know. Something a man eats.”

“Are you saying my pasta is too girly for you? Should I throw a raw slab of meet on a platter?”

“Just do something different tomorrow,” I barked more roughly than I intended.

She pulled a ticket from her bag and placed it on the arm of the couch. I noticed just how much dust had traveled from the kitchen to this room. I hadn’t bothered to put up any barriers.

“I don’t think another order is such a good idea. This is what you owe me for tonight,” she announced.

I looked at the slip. “And where else am I supposed to get food?”

“Cook it yourself.” I saw the blaze of defiance in her eyes. “Grayslake has grocery stores.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen I had spent the day destroying.

“And where do you propose I do that?” It wasn’t her problem I had taken a sledge hammer and wedge to my grandmother’s kitchen, but I wanted it to be.

“I-I…” She pressed her plump lips together. It was the first time I had noticed them. They curved and dipped and were fucking kissable. “Maybe you should just eat it raw then.”

“I think you’re going to do a better job than me.” I wasn’t letting her out of this that easily.

“It’s going to cost you,” she finally answered.

“Name your price,” I challenged. “Money isn’t a problem.” It was true. I didn’t give a shit how much I spent. I was a king. I had more money than any shifter in this town. Unlimited funds meant I was willing to pay whatever the expense to not have to cook.

I must have said the magic words.

“Fine. But I need a list. A very specific list of what you won’t eat because I’m not wasting all this food or time again.”

I rose from the couch. “I think you’ll figure it out.”

Her lips did that thin-line thing again. “Why don’t you just help me out? I’m cooking for you. You could make this a lot easier for both of us.”

I spun on my heels, almost knocking into her. “Because.” My teeth gritted involuntarily. “I’ve tried helping before and it got me nowhere. I don’t waste
my
time with it anymore.”

She thought it was a waste of time making an extra pot of rigatoni? Try two years on a girl.

“You sound like someone who has been hurt very badly,” she said softly.

I bristled. I didn’t want pity. “Doesn’t matter.” I brushed it off. “It’s over. It’s been over. I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I responded, dismissing her. I didn’t want to get into it.

My personal life wasn’t any of her damn business.

I turned my back to her, and when I heard the door latch behind me I knew she was gone.