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He groaned and changed the angle of the kiss so he could go deeper, take her deeper. He had no idea where his cane was, no idea what had come over him, but he had both hands on her now, molding her narrow waist and spreading up over her ribs. 

She was all silky fabric and hot flesh. 

His thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts. Though the material of her corset, he could feel her heat.

“Charlie,” she whispered, “please.”

Please stop? Or please go on? He lifted his head to look into her wide, staring eyes. 

What was he doing? He hadn’t come here for this. He didn’t want a girl like her. And she didn’t want him, with his scars and his temper. Harshly, he pushed her away from him, as if he could prove it to her. 

“What?” Briar asked, her lips parted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“This was a mistake. I don’t want you.”

“You’re lying,” she said breathlessly, reaching her arm out toward him. 

“No,” he said, stumbling back to avoid her touch. “No, I don’t trust you. I could never trust you. You’re a liar.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Briar

She took a step back. After being held against the inferno that was Charlie’s body, the night air was suddenly freezing. Her breath was still short, her skin tingling with unfamiliar desire. 

She had been kissed before; had done more than kiss. Nothing in her experience compared to the geyser of pleasure that had rushed up inside her in Charlie’s arms. 

But when he pushed her away, all of that pleasure had turned to despair. 

Was this how the rest of her life would be? The things she had said as a teenager, her foolish lies, defined her in the eyes of everyone she knew. 

It was hard to pull air into her lungs, but she did it. “I didn’t ask you to come here.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“To make sure I won’t tell anyone about your power. But since I’m a liar,” she said, her voice sarcastic, “you’d never believe me, even if I did promise.”

Charlie looked uncomfortable. “Why won’t you promise?”

“Why did you kiss me?” she shot back.

“That wasn’t … it wasn’t my intention ....”

His words warbled a little. She raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it go. “But you did kiss me. You approached me in the woods. You brought me into this.”

“That was a mistake,” he said stiffly. 

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

He was flustered now, hot color high in his cheeks. Even in the dim light, she could see that his pants were still tented. “I …. Well … that’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then, Charlie? Why do you keep coming after me?”

“Look, I didn’t mean to start anything. You’re the only one who knows about me, the only one ….”

“The only one you can talk to?” she finished for him.

“I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t want people in my life who can’t be honest with me.”

Briar’s laugh was short, and had nothing to do with humor. “Believe me, Charlie, I can be honest with you.”

The first cold droplets of rain hit her shoulders and she shivered. “Look, if we’re going to talk about this, can we at least sit in my car? I’m cold, and my feet hurt.”

Charlie hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He moved stiffly around to the passenger side of Briar’s big Buick. Briar climbed into the car and reached across to open his door for him before sticking the keys in the ignition and turning the car on. The radio blasted to life, and Bobby Darin crooned about finding one true love. Embarrassed, she turned the volume knob down. 

Charlie carefully lowered his way into the seat, giving her plenty of time to think about that lean hard frame. She had seen him naked. She had seen the hard muscles roped across his abdomen and thighs. She had seen, and now felt, that hard, jutting part of him. 

She looked away. There was no point in yearning for more of his touch. Not when she knew what he thought of her. 

Rain was spattering over the windshield now. The neon lights of the supper club smeared into streaks of color. Beyond the roiling storm clouds, she could see the snowy peak of Desolation, frozen even at the end of summer.

For a few minutes, they sat in uncomfortable silence. It occurred to Briar that every time she had seen him recently, they had been outside. For some reason, the confines of the car seemed unbearably intimate. 

“I know that I have a reputation as a liar,” Briar said, unable to stand it any longer. “And the fact is, I’ve earned it.”

Charlie let the awkward silence hang for so long Briar was nearly ready to get out of her own car and walk away. 

Finally, he asked, “Why do you do it?”

Briar let out a breath. Maybe if she had a chance to explain, he would understand.

“I guess you know I got caught lying all the time through high school.”

“Briar the Liar,” he said casually, stretching out his legs.

“Yes,” she said, trying to give away how much the name bothered her. “I never did my homework, so I had to keep coming up with new reasons why. I forgot my books, the power went out, kitchen disaster, that sort of thing.” 

“Just your standard blatant lies.”

She shot him a look. It really wasn’t fair that a man so attractive would also be so annoying. 

“After a while, that got boring,” she continued. “So I started getting more creative.”

“Yeah, I seem to remember a spell in high school where you kept telling everyone you were an emergency back-up trapeze artist for the circus.”

She smiled a little, remembering. “Oh yeah. That was fun. I used that to get out of homework and gym class, since the ringmaster of the circus insisted I not do anything to compromise my training.”

“I don’t understand why they didn’t kick you out of school. Or lock you in the loony bin.”

Something in her crumpled at his words. “I’m not crazy,” she said sharply.

“You don’t think it’s crazy to tell the kind of lies that no one would ever believe?”

“You have no idea how many lies I told that people did believe.”

“Like what?”

She pressed her lips together. “Do you know where I lived before I came to Independence Falls?”

“How should I know?” After a brief pause, he said, “I think I heard you grew up in California.”

“And you probably also heard that my brother Arthur works for a housing developer in Denver.”

“Yeah, I guess I heard something like that.”

She took a deep breath. She had never been this truthful in her life. “Those are also things I made up. Things I wanted everyone to believe. The rest of the lies, the fanciful stuff … that was just to distract people from the big, serious lies that I needed to survive.”

“I seem to recall,” Charlie said slowly, “that your parents died in a car accident. Was that a lie too?”

The directness surprised her, and she barely stuttered a reply. “I’m not ready to tell you that.”

“Why should I believe you if you won’t tell me everything?”

“You don’t trust me. Why should I trust you?”

Charlie sighed. “All right, you have a point.”

Rain was lashing heavily on the windshield now. Inside the car, it was warm and dark. 

Briar risked a sideways glance at Charlie. His jaw was tight in profile, and she could hardly believe that statue of a man had been kissing her senseless just moments ago. 

“What I’m trying to tell you is, things have changed. I don’t lie anymore. I can’t lie anymore.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying now?”

Giving in to her irritation, she leaned in and smacked his shoulder so he would look at her. “You don’t get to sit in judgment on me, Charlie Huston. I’ve had enough comeuppance. Everybody else gets a neat power, everybody else gets to fly or walk through walls or turn into a darn mountain lion, and what do I get? I get a power that ruins my whole life.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you saying you have a power too?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a power. It’s more of a weakness. But yes, every time I lie I get a horrible pain in my head.”

Charlie scoffed. “Telling the truth isn’t a superpower. It’s a sign of maturity.” 

“Everyone lies. Every day, in every conversation. And I can hear every one of them now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can hear lies, Charlie. I hear every little untruth that crosses someone’s lips. And it’s awful,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

She laughed despairingly. “I can tell.”

“Your name wasn’t in the paper.”

“Neither was yours!”

“You don’t have a power. You’re just making excuses for yourself,” Charlie said scathingly. He was leaning in now too, his blue-green eyes hot in the dark. 

“Oh, like you can talk,” she huffed. She didn’t get angry often, but when she did her temper went off like a firecracker. “You’re lying to everyone in your life so you can keep your secret. You’re stomping around with that cane like you’re miserable, when in reality you’ve been given a marvelous new body to play with. You expect everyone to make allowances for you, but then you get mad when they do. You must be telling yourself all kinds of terrible things to keep up this level of irritation.” 

“I’m feeling pretty irritated right now,” he growled.

Briar tossed her hair. “Here’s the truth, Charlie: You survived a terrible accident. You survived, and that’s a good thing. You’ve got a long life ahead of you, and yeah, maybe it won’t be as easy as you’d hoped, but the fact that you are alive is wonderful and should be celebrated. But if you keep pushing everyone away, what’s the point of surviving?”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be crippled,” Charlie ground out. 

There was fury in his eyes, and part of Briar wanted to back down. But she had come this far, and there was truth inside her that wanted to be told. “I do know what it’s like to mourn. And that’s what you’re doing, Charlie—mourning what might have been instead of appreciating what you have now.”

“How did this become about me?” Charlie asked, leaning in. “Whether or not I tell anyone about my power, that’s my business. I just need you to keep quiet about it. Is that so much to ask?”

Their faces were close. The rain had slowed, blowing out just as quickly as it had blown in. The car was steamy now, the windows fogged with their breath. 

Briar’s gaze flicked down to Charlie’s mouth, then back up to his eyes. They really were extraordinary, those color-shifting eyes that looked as beautiful in the face of a man as they did in a cat’s. 

Why did she have to want him so much? He was just like all the other guys. He might have wanted her body, but he didn’t want anything to do with her true self. 

She shouldn’t have said those things about his leg. She may have been telling the truth, but she knew better than anyone that the truth hurt. 

She sat back and twisted so she was facing out the window again. “You made the assumption that you had to convince me to keep quiet. But what you don’t seem to understand is that I never had any intention of telling anyone. Believe it or not, your powers are not the only thing I have to deal with at the moment.”

She waited for him to reply. When he didn’t, she tipped her chin up. “You can go now.”

Charlie was silent for a long moment before he opened the door. The cool night air rushed into the car, smelling of rain-washed grasses. “Okay. I guess I’ll … see you around.”

“I’ll probably see you in your driveway in twenty minutes.”

Charlie shook his head. “I’m going to go out. I need to run. I need to …,” he glanced up at her, and the look she saw in his eyes had heat rushing over her again. He shook his head and looked away. “I need to burn off some energy. I need to chase something and catch it.”

Briar bit her lip, then decided to ask. “Can I watch you transform?” 

When Charlie raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. “I want to see it happen. I didn’t get a good look last time.”

“If I recall correctly, you looked plenty,” Charlie said dryly.

“I meant the actual transformation,” she said, feeling heat rise up her cheeks. 

He looked around. This back corner of the parking lot was nearly empty, surrounded by rolling forests on all sides.

“I guess so. Yeah. Why not?”

Charlie started to get out of the car, then stopped. “I want to trust you. And I hope some day you’ll trust me.”

Before she could reply, Charlie levered himself out of the car and closed the door behind him.

She got out of the car and stood, leaning on the inside of the open door. The cool night air burned against her hot cheeks. She watched Charlie as he hobbled over to his truck and carefully laid his cane over the hood. 

As the clouds rolled out, the stars speckled the sky and cast their light over the parking lot. Briar couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but she could feel them fixed on her as he steadily began to unbutton his shirt.

Briar felt a spreading warmth deep in her belly. When he stripped off his shirt and tossed it carelessly over his cane, her breath hitched. 

He wasn’t wearing an undershirt. 

His skin caught the light of the stars, and Briar could make out the sculpted muscles of his torso beneath a light smattering of hair. His arms were long and lean. Now she knew what it was like to have those arms wrapped around her, to feel those hard muscles flex to bring her closer. Her body had never felt like this before—hot and cold, thrumming with need. 

So this was how it felt to want someone.

His hands lowered to his belt, and the world slowed. Briar licked her lips, anxious to see that part of him that never lied about his desire for her. Her head spun; she couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. 

She thought she was imagining it when he began to shift. Hair sprouted across his body as his shoulders narrowed and his neck thickened. She could actually see the bones breaking, the muscles roiling under his skin. It had to hurt, she thought, and sure enough Charlie threw his head back and she could see the moonlight glinting off his gritted teeth. Then he was falling to the ground, his hands—paws—dropping to catch his upper body as his hips shifted back and his pants fell away.