The Tiger's Baby: A Paranormal Pregnancy Romance (3 page)

“Well, I hate to cut our first date short… but let me make it up to you?” he asked, and flashed her a boyish smile. His plaid shirt had come undone again, and he was sweating through the white shirt. The animal musk of him found its way to her nostrils, and she drank him in.

“You’d better,” she said.

Without warning he pulled her closer by the hand and before she could register what was happening his face was right next to hers, and she felt the warm touch of his lips press against hers. Reflexively she closed her eyes, and let him kiss her. It wasn’t an erotic kiss by any means, but it was long and sensuous, and time seemed to slow to a standstill as she maneuvered her own lips against his.             

Dreamily, she opened her eyes, her lips still puckered, and saw him staring at her with an uncertain look on his face. “Was that okay?” he asked.

Kristen nodded, but couldn’t help smiling uncontrollably and tried to hide it with one hand.
I’ve never been so shy before, why am I acting like a school girl now?
she cursed herself. But the tension in Rodney’s face dispersed, and a new light came into it. He winked and turned toward his car.

“In that case, I recommend you explore Nelson a bit and then
you
can decide on the locale for our next date? Sound good?!”

Again, Kristen could only nod dumbly as he got in his truck and took off. She watched him until he turned the corner, and let out a breath without realizing she had been holding it. She flattened her skirt again, and sighed.
Alright Gloria,
she surmised,
I’ll let you gloat about this one.

CHAPTER TWO

Thankfully, Gloria kept her self-assuredness to herself over the next week. If she suspected that Kristen was taken with Rodney, she gave no indication; instead, the chubby girl made herself at home in the small loft, turning it into a private sanctum. It was another reason that Kristen was so endeared to her; Gloria was in many ways the polar opposite. She was rambunctious, confident, outgoing. In fact, it was Gloria who suggested the next place for Kristen and Rodney’s date, as she had already managed to seek out the best places in town.

Kristen found herself adapting to the new small-town life without actually trying, and by the end of the second week it was as if she had been living in Nelson for years. As promised, Rodney had managed to introduce her to one of the editors for the local newspaper, a small skinny man in his sixties who walked with a terminable hunch and always rubbed his chin before he spoke. He’d been impressed with her resume, and had hired her on a part time basis.

It wasn’t glamorous, not like the sorts of leading events she’d been covering in Seattle, but for once she was glad. It wasn’t stressful, and it gave her plenty of time to explore the city and meet its locals.
The sufficiency of the mundane
, her editor had called it, and she had had to agree.

On top of that, her relationship with Rodney had progressed without her realizing it, and she unashamedly told Gloria one evening.

“I think it’s difficult,” the brunette said, chopping cucumbers in the kitchen and adding them to a strainer with carrots and leeks and other vegetables. It was Gloria’s turn to make dinner, and somehow she always excelled at it. “In the wild, we would be unaccustomed to the emotions of mating… but we’re not totally animals, are we? We’re part human,” she said over her shoulder.

“I know,” Kristen said. She had confessed as much about her fears in the past few days. Her and Rodney hadn’t slept together yet, and she suspected it had as much to do with both of their nervous natures as it did with her own subconscious reasons for stalling.

“You never expected this, did you?” Gloria asked wistfully.

“Expected what?” Kristen replied, innocently enough.

Gloria wrinkled her pug-nose and didn’t respond. “You are such a ditz, sometimes,” she mused to herself. “Sometimes you’re the smartest person I know, but when it comes to matters of the heart, you’re as clueless as this cucumber.”

“What does this have to do with the heart?” Kristen asked brashly, and it came out harsher than she had intended.
She’s seen through me
, she thought. What other reason could there have been for her stalling having intercourse with Rodney. She blushed, thinking about it. “Rodney is a really nice guy… I just want to take it slow. To get to know each other – you don’t think it’s important to get to know the father of my child-to-be?”

“I think it is,” Gloria licked a spoon, but her voice was bored, “but it’s not like you’re marrying him. This is a sanctioned coupling. Maybe that sounds informal and cold, but there it is.”

It did sound informal. Like there was no joy attached to the actual process. Kristen had always had a complicated relationship with sex. Sure, she’d had a few boyfriends here and there, but nothing that had ever really equated with a strong lasting relationship. She preferred the company of her female companions more. And, quite frankly, most of the males that had been available to her had been selfish, shallow, pig-headed brutes anyway.

But not Rodney
, she thought. He deserved more respect than that – that’s why she’d been taking it slow, she wanted to convince herself. “You’re right,” she finally conceded, and Gloria turned with a surprised look. It wasn’t often that Kristen submitted to Gloria’s perspective so easily, even if deep down she knew it to be true. “You’re right, in that this is a coupling, a sanctioned Enclave event. And there is a formality to it. But I think Rodney has every right to get to know me. But it’s more than that… you were right when I said I was scared. I still
am
. I think I’ll always be a little scared, and maybe that’s a good thing, it keeps you alert, awake.”

Gloria looked like she had something else to say, but dropped it. She shook the vegetables in the strainer and rubbed her eyes. “In that case,
when
can I expect to be an aunt… if ever?” she joked.

***

Gloria’s off-color humor followed Kristen, even when she left that night on one of her rendezvous to meet Rodney. The two had become more or less boyfriend and girlfriend, even though she had done her best to try and keep the relationship as professional as possible. But when she’d realized how impossible it was to keep something as intimate as conceiving a child as
professional
, she had begrudgingly let him hold her hand, or put an arm around her waist, and even kiss her occasionally in public.

Tonight, her stomach was a knot, though. She realized that Gloria’s comment had brought full circle the fact that she was here for a reason. She had let herself be consumed and seduced by the idea of having a proper and normal relationship, but she was a Shifter. How could she ever expect to live a normal life? Absently, she wondered if her desire to have a child wasn’t tied to that dream of normalcy, of reclaiming some sort of domestic simplicity in her life that eluded most others in her Tribe.

Rodney seemed to sense her discomfort when they met at the Outer Clove, a small nook of a restaurant off the main street that had angular walls and colorful paintings by locals pinned to them. A soft vibrato music, Spanish
fado
, issued through speakers, more like an afterthought than anything perceivable. The lights were low, and the candles on the table between them flickered.

He reached out and touched her hand. He had let the bristles on his cheeks fill in again, and his hair crept across his face like the narrow sharpened claws of some black beast. His eyes were stern, and it frightened Kristen to stare into them directly.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed… distant, recently. Was it… was it something I’ve done?” he asked, coming straight to the point. His voice was as soft as the wavering flame of the candle, and she tried to swallow past her confusion.

“I don’t know, Rodney. I’m just…” she wondered how to phrase her feelings without hurting him, “the truth is, this is just so strange for me. I always thought I would raise my child alone. It is the way it’s been done in the Enclave for centuries. Every one of the women helps in raising the child. But…”

“I know all about that,” he said, trying to put her fears to rest, “I think… I think it’s a great way for a kid to grow up, quite frankly.”

“Then... then you’re okay with not being… a part of that?” she asked, trying not to sound incredulous. She couldn’t imagine being in his place, the idea of not being there to raise something that was, in fact,
part
her was unthinkable.

Rodney leaned back. “It’s complicated, yes. And if it were anyone else, I think I would probably say no… but when I read about you, and then meeting you, spending time with you, I just want to help you. I know that makes me sound selfless, but I’m not. Maybe, in my own twisted way, I feel like if I can help
you
, then somehow I will be helping my sister. And I can tell… you would be a great mother, Kristen.”

She blushed again. “How are you so understanding?”

He shrugged. “Just lucky I guess,” he said.

By time they’d finished their dinner, they had both gone back to their usual selves, and when he offered her a cup of coffee at his home she didn’t bat an eye. It wasn’t until they’d pulled up next to his house, which was on the shore near the industrial part of town, just off the railroads, that she realized she hadn’t actually been in his home yet.

His house was quaint, and it looked as if he’d built it himself. The two story cabin was far enough away from the city that it avoided the noise-pollution, and she saw that a small jetty had been built with a quay that wandered out into the black waters. The lights from the suspension bridge downstream flickered on the surface.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, leading her to the front door. The interior was cozy and full of mementos. It was definitely a bachelor’s house, but there was maturity to the décor and furniture that she could appreciate. “It’s not much to look at, but it’s definitely my little sanctuary. Unlike the Enclave, Shifters around here a bit scarce; we tend to live by ourselves.”

“You mean, there’s no other Shifters in Nelson?” she said surprised. She had taken it for granted, coming from a big city like Seattle, that there were others, maybe not Tigers, but certainly Wolves, or Bears, or even Foxes.

“Nope,” he said, “Although there’s a small band of Lynxes about sixty clicks away. But in Nelson, as far as I know, I’m the only one. So you can see, I tend to live a solitary life. Well, almost. Just me and Nancy.”

“Wh-who’s Nancy?” Kristen said, and hugged her bare arms.

The plain single-piece green dress she had chosen for the night seemed suddenly too small, and she felt a bit vulnerable and exposed in it, despite the fact she couldn’t imagine any other man she would have felt as comfortable around as Rodney.

Rodney laughed, and made an effort to look under the kitchen table, where he pulled out a calico tabby, who merely let out a remorseful and lazy
meow
as it was held up for inspection. Kristen let out a relieved sigh.

“We’ve been together for almost five years,” Rodney joked, “and she’s a bit jealous and temperamental. We’re thinking of going to counseling.”

Kristen smiled at his bad joke and sat down on the couch, pulling her legs up under her as she got comfortable. Rodney set the cat down, and it made a tight-eyed grumble and loped off back under the darkness of the kitchen table, while Kristen resisted the urge to chortle at the small animal’s malignity. Meanwhile, Rodney went about preparing the coffee maker, and caught her watching him.

“Are you scrutinizing my coffee-making skills? I don’t think that was in the profile they gave you. Consider it a bonus genetic trait,” he offered.

“No, I’m just watching you,” she said, and tilted her head against her open palm. “Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to reply if you don’t want to.”

“Optional question? Ah, those aren’t any fun.”

“I can make it an
obligatory
question,” Kristen poked, squinting at him.

“There you go!” Rodney said, his deep voice seeming to catch in the pocketed steel of the pans and pots that were hanging on an iron chandelier above him. There was a gruffness to his speech which only occasionally peeked through, as if he truly was leading a double-life.

It must be more difficult for him than it was for me
, she thought. At least in the Enclave she had had many other sisters, all who were like her and could empathize with the many quandaries of trying to fit into a human world. But Rodney had always been alone, the only one of his kind. She tried to imagine the sort of mentality you’d have to cultivate in order to survive that kind of solitude.

“How…” she shook her head and began again, “…what I mean is, what was it like, for you? To be a Tiger, but the only one here? Weren’t you lonely?”

For a moment she wondered if he had heard her, because he didn’t respond. Only the tamping of the coffee, the sound of water dripping through the filter, and the flicking of the switch on the machine could be heard. She didn’t dare ask it again, and lowered her gaze to the small table in front of the couch, which was littered with old National Geographic magazines.

“Loneliness is like anything,” he said, as if testing out how the words sounded in his mouth. “You get used to it after a time, and then… one day, you can’t imagine feeling any other way. That probably sounds pretty pathetic, but… you do what you have to do to survive.”

“And how did you?”

He turned at last, and flashed a smile but her keen reporter’s sense kicked in, and she realized it was false. He was trying to conceal some emotional hurdle, but hadn’t quite made it. “I guess, in a way, I kind of learned to live two lives. I have my human life, the Rodney who is a paramedic and lives in Nelson and enjoys canoeing and the company of misanthropic house cats,” he grinned, “and the other me, the Tiger. But he doesn’t really get the opportunity to stretch his legs very often.”

Kristen saw that he’d unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and a saw the small curling traces of chest hair. She gulped, and pulled her legs further up under her, but it only succeeded in pulling the fabric of the dress further up her legs.

“And… and what side of you have I been getting to know?” Kristen asked, and stiffened as he approached and sat down next to her, one of his arms settling on the back of the couch.

She breathed in again, and found his scent, warm and familiar and wooded, and it reminded her of the first time they’d gone on a date. The fresh sugary smell of leaves, the darker notes of moss and granite underfoot.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. His eyes fell across her small supple form, noting every angle that the tight dress hugged into perfection. She gulped again, feeling the air between them grow with a sort of static anticipation. “I… I want you to know
me
. Not just the part of me everyone else sees.”