Despite the mishap in locating Derrick—I really thought I’d have to hunt him down and force him—the road trip passed rather peacefully. Despite the sexual tension between them, there was also a genuine like for one another, and when he wasn’t barbing her or trying to push Janine away, they could have the most interesting conversations.

It passed the long trip. While Derrick started out driving, the highway part of the route being the longest, she took over once they hit an exit. She made sure to give him a pit stop so he could use a washroom, and she said not a word about the fact that he took a few minutes longer than other people to do his business and glared at those who dared to complain outside the locked door.

As she took the familiar twists and turns to her parents’ house, she couldn’t help a touch of anxiousness. How would her stepdad react? With her, Orson was the most lovable teddy bear a girl could ask for, but with anyone he thought threatened her? Poor Jeremy wouldn’t even look at her in the hallways of school after that time he dared call her an ugly name.

But Derrick isn’t a threat to me. Unless losing her heart counted.

Pulling up in front of her parents’ place, she slowed the car.

Derrick let out a low whistle. “That is some house,” he said.

A shrug rolled through her shoulders. “I guess. All the houses in this area are kind of big. Suburbia at its finest.” Set on an acre, with protected parkland at the back of the property, the house was a two-story colonial style with giant white columns in the front and a façade of windows. It might look impressive to some, but to her, it was home.

“The place looks massive,” he mumbled as she eased the car in behind a dark blue BMW.

“It is a decent size, and really nice inside,” she admitted. “As a councilmember, Orson entertains a lot. Apparently, it’s important when we have visitors, especially from other countries, or even the occasional wild group that doesn’t necessarily recognize council rule, that we impress them.”

“So you had a lot of strangers and shifters coming in and out of your life as a kid? That must have been interesting, or did you even know what they were? You never did tell me how you found out your stepdad was a bear. Did he just come out and tell you? I thought the admission of our existence was strictly prohibited.”

“It’s not allowed, but he and my mom had to do something the night I caught her outside hugging a bear in the yard. I’d gone to get a drink of water from the bathroom and saw them from a window. I ran outside screaming and begging for the bear not to eat my mom. At that point, I still had nightmares about my dad dying. Orson felt horrible about my panic and changed right then and there. Which, of course, made me scream more. Once they calmed me down, he and my mom explained what he was. It took me a few days of thinking it over and hiding from him before he sought me out as his bear.”

“He did what! Is the man delusional? How could he think that was a good idea?” The words emerged with angry vehemence.

Hastening to reassure him, she didn’t think and put her hand out, touching his arm. An electric thrill shocked her. Did he feel it too? He certainly went still, and to cover the moment and her gaffe, she continued her story. “You make it sound awful when it wasn’t. It was actually very sweet.”

“Coming face-to-face with a bear is sweet?” The sarcasm dripped.

“It is when it has a great big bow around his neck, which matched the bow on the teddy that he brought with his teeth. Little girls are suckers for cute things.” Even grumpy ones. She drew away her hand and cleared her throat. “So there was this giant bear, with a little teddy in his mouth, and he lay down in front of me. Didn’t eat me. Or growl. Or roar. And I didn’t pee my pants, so things were going pretty good. Anyhow, Orson lay there who knows how long until I had the courage to grab that teddy. Once I did that and he didn’t eat me, I figured what the heck and petted him.” But she still remembered the frightened thrill of reaching out her hand and letting her fingers sift the short coarse hair on his back. The soft touch of the fur tucked behind his ears. The man practically purred like a cat if you rubbed them right.

“You petted a councilmember like he was a dog?” Derrick snickered, trying to not allow himself to be moved by that special moment.

She didn’t allow him to mock the kind act because she knew Derrick was capable of the same kindness. “Don’t disparage what happened. Orson is a good man. A good father. He showed a little girl that, despite the fact he could turn into a ferocious beast, it didn’t mean he would ever hurt me. Just like he’d never hurt my mother. Inside the bear, it is still him.”

“Is this the part where I cry and admit that inside this broken body I’m still me?” He might speak the words with arrogant disdain, but she saw how his fingers clenched tight, the knuckles turning white. “Is this where I tell you I’m nothing like your father?”

“You are nothing like my father.”

“I disagree. I think your father and I have a lot in common. Let’s say we look past the fact we both lost mobility and our minds from our ordeals. Those aren’t the only commonalities. We both pushed family away.”

“Did you? I mean, you never saw your family until I brought your niece and nephew. You wouldn’t let them see you at all once you returned. And they haven’t pushed the issue”—a frown creased her forehead—“which, given I’ve met your sister, and spoken to your mother, surprises me.” It seemed out of character for them not to barge in and force Derrick to see them. She’d only dared to ask Mrs. Grayson once why she didn’t just show up. After all, so many people lived by the adage it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

Mrs. Grayson had replied, “Right now he’s hurt and licking his wounds. Pushing him too hard might tip him over an edge he can’t return from. I had that happen to a brother of mine. We learned that sometimes the best thing we can do to help is give some space.”

A respectful move on the part of his family, people with whom he shared an intense emotional connection. One wrong move from them could destroy him, and yet, a doctor could push those boundaries. A doctor could challenge him because he could lash out and he wouldn’t feel the guilt that he would with family.

“My family knows how to leave me alone.”

She giggled. “Having met them, I can’t believe you said that.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “They are a tad much at times to handle.” The smile turned upside down. “Which is why I’ve kept them away.”

“I guess you and my dad do have something in common. You’re both so caught up in your own misery you can’t see how it hurts those who care for you. And that was the point about my story with Orson. Sure, he was scared to expose his innermost self to me. To let me see him as he was. But he didn’t let that stop him, and showed me how much he trusted me with his love. He loved me more than my dad ever did.” The vulnerable admission spilled from her before she could stop it.

“Your dad loved you. I know he did.” The affront in his tone shone clearly. “He just wasn’t thinking right when he came back.”

“I know that now.” She cast him a glance sideways. “But at the time, I didn’t. What else is a little girl supposed to think when her father comes back from the war and doesn’t talk to her? I was only seven years old. I didn’t understand why. Why he didn’t tuck me in at night anymore. Why he didn’t swing me in the air and then hug me tight saying everything would be okay? What is a little girl to think but she’s the fault when her dad cries at the sight of her? Every time I tried to give him a hug, he pushed me away.” Her words caught in a sob, and she inhaled sharply, a hiccup of sound, feeling the scalding moisture clinging to her lashes. “And then…”

“Don’t.” He held out his hand to her in a plea.

Ignoring it proved easy once she dropped her gaze to her hands. He couldn’t stop her now. Let him hear the ugly truth. Perhaps he needed to hear it.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “And then my dad leaves. He leaves again, for good this time. Leaves me. Leaves my mom and everything changed. Everything. Again. I was so sad. So lost, and I thought.” Oh how she’d thought too much back then. “No, I didn’t think. I was convinced it was something that I did that sent my dad away. Or maybe it was something I didn’t do.” She spread her hands wide, forcing a smile on her lips for a mirth she didn’t feel. “Who knows why he did it? The fact is my daddy left me.”

“War changes a man.”

“It does.” She peeked at him from under damp lashes. “No one is denying that your experiences change you, and they hurt you. They even redefine who you are, but you can’t let that control your life.”

“And here’s the speech.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, the speech. Because, while you’re wallowing in self-pity, I lived on the other side of that coin. I was that family member who was pushed away by someone she loved. The same way you keep pushing folks away.”

“How is letting them in supposed to help me or them? I mean, let’s look at your situation for a second. When your dad was around, everyone was miserable. Your dad leaves, and that left the door open for your stepfather to swoop in and give you a happily-ever-after.”

He poked at the injury she still bore from her father’s suicide. “Yes, my life turned out great, but not without a lot of pain. And here’s the thing. If my daddy had gotten the help he needed and learned to cope, we could have been happy.”

Again, he honed in with precision. “Is it that could-have-been that makes you choose to work with men just like your father? Assuaging a lingering guilt?”

She looked away from him, fingers clenched around the steering wheel, even though the engine was long shut off. “I will never completely lose that guilt, and yes, you could say I am still trying to atone for what happened to my father. Because I never want another little girl to suffer like I suffered. I won’t fail again.”

“So fixing me, fixing other trauma survivors, we’re just a means to an end for you. A feel-good pill.”

“Of course not,” she hastened to say, but Derrick didn’t listen. He squeezed between the seats of the minivan and made his way to the back.

“Don’t watch me,” he barked.

How did he know she watched? He never looked back once. She faced forward, staring through the windshield and noting she’d missed the lilacs blooming. A mundane thought to try and regain her equilibrium after that grand confession. “I’m not doing this out of pity,” she said as she listened to him get in his chair and open the tailgate.

“You’re doing this because it’s a job.”

“I never denied that.” She clambered out of the minivan and made her way to the back just in time to see him dumping himself into his already flipped open chair. How does he do it that quickly? “From day one, I never said I was anything other than a psychologist.”

“A psychologist with daddy issues.”

“So what? It doesn’t mean I can’t do my job. On the contrary, my experience makes me more determined than ever to help you.”

“You can help me by going away. I don’t need your save-the-cripple mentality.”

There came the cruel words, as, once again, he sought to push her away. As if she’d let that happen. She leaned forward and braced her hands on either side of his chair, effectively locking him into place unless he physically knocked her away. She’d wager too much of a gentleman resided inside Derrick for him to lay violent hands on her.

She caught his gaze. “Listen, I might have gone into medicine because of my childhood and my dad, but just because I let that experience guide some of my actions, it doesn’t make my emotions any less. I’m not just doing this because it’s work. I care about you.”

“You care about me like you would care about anybody who’s broken,” he replied. “I’m not special to you. I’m nothing to you but another guy with mental issues, and it was stupid of me to think otherwise.”

She wanted to reassure him and tell him how different everything was with him. Emotionally invested for sure, and yet, she couldn’t admit it out loud and give weight to the feelings. Once the truth emerged, then she would have no choice. She’d have to leave as his doctor. But she couldn’t say nothing, not with him obviously hurting. “You are special.”

“Stop it. I don’t want to hear it. I know what I am now.”

“What are you?” she asked.

He let his gaze meet hers. “I am just a patient.”

And with a rapid twist, he reversed away from her before spinning and heading to the house.

A good thing he left rapidly because she couldn’t stop a whisper. “You’re more than that to me.”

He meant way too much to her, and to hear him say, with a sadness he probably never intended for her to notice, that he meant nothing, twisted her heart. She’d hurt him, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

The heaviness in her heart lingered as she followed Derrick to the front door of the home she used to run through when younger. Each step did nothing to ease the turmoil in her.

She wanted to yell at him that she wished things were different. That over the course of the past few weeks she’d grown to care for him more than she should. She’d made the classic mistake of falling in love.

Dear God, I love him. Loved a patient. So much for the right thing and ethics.

No wonder he complained about confusion. She was just as confused. She didn’t know how to stop these burgeoning emotions she had for him. She didn’t know how to deal with him, not as a patient, but a man. What should I do? He said I was his mate. What if it’s true? What if I’m doing more damage pushing him away?

What if he was wrong, though? What if he just thought of her as his mate because she was the first woman he’d showed an interest in since his ordeal? Either way, the right thing to do involved walking away from Derrick and letting another doctor take over, one that was not emotionally involved.

A doctor that wouldn’t give a damn if Derrick lived or died.

I can’t do it. Utterly selfish of her, but she couldn’t walk away. I can’t, because if something happened and I wasn’t there, I will blame myself.

What an epiphany to have, and moments before she’d have to face the scrutiny of her parents. The double doors, thick and darkly stained wood, loomed before them. More ominous, the moment of truth with her stepdad awaited. At least there wasn’t a crowd, yet, for the party. Janine had ensured they would arrive a bit earlier. The extra time would give Orson and Derrick a chance to talk.

At least she hoped they would talk. With Derrick, who knew what might happen? Sure, he’d done well at the bar the night before, but another outing, so soon and with such dangerous implications? It could end up in disaster, especially considering the glower on Derrick’s face.

I think I screwed up. I don’t think I should have brought him. But the realization came too late. The door opened, and there stood her mother and stepfather, bright smiles of welcome on their faces.

“June-bug, you made it.” Orson held open his arms, and she couldn’t resist the comfort they always offered. She dove forward and buried herself against his big chest for a teddy bear hug that never failed to make her feel better. Then it was her mother’s turn to squeeze her tight and whisper, “So glad you could come.”

As if Janine would miss this event. She’d spoken the truth to Derrick earlier when she related how she’d thought her mother would never find happiness again. Orson changed all that—and for the better. Her mother glowed with contentment.

Much as it pained Janine to admit, Derrick was right about her having a better life with Orson. Even if her father had healed, she remembered enough of his behavior before he’d left to know Orson was a much better father and husband than her biological father ever had been. The very thought never failed to douse her in guilt. It seemed wrong that she loved Orson more.

Her stepdad fixed his gaze on the man in the wheelchair, and yes, he had to look slightly down, but their less-than-equal height didn’t stop the war of dominance between Orson and Derrick. When it came to strong wills, they were equals, the pair of them staring, bristling predators looking to determine who would prevail.

How interesting that Derrick chose to pit himself against someone of Orson’s stature in the shifter world. The teachings she’d received at her stepdad’s knee indicated a certain hierarchy. The strong, and intelligent, not just brutes, ruled the others. Some shifters lived in packs with alphas or, in the case of the lions out in Vegas, a king. Others lived in scattered communities that answered only to the higher council rules. As for who sat on the council? Only the strongest.

Orson was strong, and not just because he shifted into an over-eight-foot-tall bear and could crush a man in his grip. He ruled in will.

Yet Derrick won when it came to stubbornness, and the doctor inside her was pleased to see he didn’t back down, even if there was a height disadvantage. And, yes, she knew how that bothered him, an understandable feeling, given he’d spent a good portion of his life looking down on others, not badly, but because he stood so tall.

Now Derrick had to sit, and yet the wheelchair did not make him look weak. With his expression fierce, he exuded strength. He also appeared vital, and healthy, the pallor she’d noted in his skin upon her first arrival replaced with a healthier color, perhaps because of their many walks. He also spent more time on his grooming, the wild, unkempt man she’d first met replaced with a clean-shaven jaw and brush-cut hair. For the occasion, he’d also put on a collared polo knit shirt and khakis. For all his grumbling, Derrick was starting to show vanity about his appearance.

“You must be Derrick Grayson. I’m Orson Whelan. Welcome to my home.”

Derrick arched brow. “Welcome? More like dragged.”

“I did not drag you,” she muttered. “Just insisted, vehemently.”

Orson coughed behind his hand. “Yes, June-bug can be quite tenacious when she’s convinced of something.”

“A pity she’s wrong in this instance. Your daughter is too softhearted.”

“On that we are agreed.”

Look at that, Derrick and her dad bonding over the fact they thought she was a mushy idiot. At least they were talking. A good start.

“Why don’t we move indoors to chat,” said her mother. “The skitters are starting to come out, and besides, the couches are much more comfortable than standing.”

“Nadine is right. You should come in.” Orson and her mother stepped out of the way. Derrick grandly gestured for Janine to go in first. “After you, Doctor.”

“You better not be planning to run away,” she stated, moving ahead.

“And miss this fun-filled evening? Why, Red, don’t you trust me? Oh, that’s right, you don’t because you’re the lunatic’s doctor. ” The word spoken in a sneer.

“I am tempted to have them withhold your pudding,” she snapped back over her shoulder, only to realize in the silence right after that her words were heard by more than just Derrick.

Janine couldn’t have said who muffled a snort—Orson, her mother—didn’t matter. Talk about behaving most unprofessionally. Simply par for the course where Derrick was concerned.

Stepping through the arch immediately to the left, she found herself in the formal living room, which adjoined the dining room. Growing up, she well recalled how these were the off-limits rooms. No playing allowed in here. The forbidden nature of it meant even tiptoeing to run a hand over the gleaming wood furniture gave her a secret thrill. The chandelier with its dozens of lights glittered on the rare occasion when she ate in the dining room with the adults. Totally awe-inspiring until she got old enough to realize sitting with the grownups wasn’t as much fun as being plopped on a kitchen stool with cable television and access to the best tidbits of the meal.

A quick glance around the room and she noted Derrick shouldn’t have much problem maneuvering. The furniture sat well spaced with lots of room to get around.

For some reason, her pulse fluttered, a nervous ticking she couldn’t quite understand. Sure, this meeting with Orson was important, and yet, if this were any other man she’d brought, she’d almost call it trepidation. The kind of trepidation a girl felt when bringing home a boy she liked for the first time.

I like him. I just can’t be with him. She perched on a couch and pressed her hands on her knees, the fabric of her skirt covering them. Her parents chose to sit side-by-side across from her while Derrick took a position between the two, just outside of the circle formed by the furniture.

“How was the drive up?”

“Did you see much construction?”

Small talk, the bane of polite society, no wonder Derrick rolled his eyes. Her parents filled in the gap of silence with trivial chatter.

Derrick, with his blunt nature, was having none of that. “Now that we’re all gathered, why don’t we just cut to the chase and discuss why I’m really here? Should I live or die? I know what my answer is, but I do hope I’ll be allowed to eat first.”

“Don’t be such a drama king,” Janine exclaimed. “No one is dying, so stop it.”

“But you can’t deny I’m broken.” Derrick spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “If the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again, then what do you think a human doctor can do?” He daggered the words in her direction, intentionally trying to hurt her.

The angle on her chin went from posture perfect to stubborn because she recalled using this analogy on him when they first met. How dare he throw it back at her? “You are not an egg.”

“Nope. I’m a Lycan, one with a very thin control. I know that. You know that. And I’m pretty sure our dear councilman over here knows that. I’ll bet he’s been getting some pretty juicy reports about my behavior. We all know what has to happen to the unstable.”

“You’re not unstable.”

“Says you. I disagree.”

She blinked at him before retorting. “You can’t disagree because I’m the doctor.”

“And doctor knows best,” he said in clear mockery. “Except, in this case, you don’t. I am bad news, Red.”

“I think you’re intentionally being aggravating.”

He leaned forward in his chair. “Aggravating? Is that the best you can do?”

“Would you prefer asshat? Because you’re definitely displaying anal characteristics!”

“Isn’t name calling your patients against your code of ethics?” he snapped back.

“Don’t you throw my ethics at me because you’re frustrated…” The word emerged slowly as she suddenly remembered the audience. Any possibility her parents hadn’t noticed their argument?

“I really should start getting the food out. Would someone like a drink or a snack?” her mother said in the sudden stillness.

“Food sounds like a fine idea,” Derrick announced. “A man going to the gallows is entitled to a final meal, and a drink right about now would be welcome. A double, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Her stepdad’s lips tightened into a flat line. “A final decision has not yet been rendered regarding your situation.”

“Just delaying the inevitable,” Derrick said with shake of his head.

Before Janine could think twice, she leaned over and punched his arm.

His eyes rounded in surprise. “Ow. You hit me. What kind of therapy is that?”

“It’s called the stop-talking-like-you’re-dying one.”

“We’re all dying, Red. Some just sooner than others.”

“Do you want to die?” It wasn’t Janine who asked, but rather Orson.

Attention drawn, Derrick faced her stepdad. “No. I don’t actually.”

“Yet you seem to think your actions will get you killed?”

Derrick shrugged. “For all my daytime progress, at night, the nightmares are bad. I’m sure you’ve read the reports.”

A dip of the head as Orson confirmed it. “I have read some, and the ones I’ve seen are not favorable. You are restrained most nights, and there are issues with your wolf pushing to the surface. It seems your control is tenuous at best.”

“He’s not dangerous,” she blurted. “I’ve seen him at night. I woke him from a nightmare, and he didn’t hurt me. He is not a danger.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” Derrick growled it before Orson could.

“Do we have to talk about this now?” asked her mother.

The vehement yeses came from more than one mouth.

“Might as well get this chat over with before our guests arrive. It is, after all, why June-bug brought her guest. It won’t take long.” Her stepdad turned his gaze on Derrick. “According to reports, your wolf is simmering close to the surface. True or false?”

“True.” Derrick didn’t explain any further. Didn’t explain he’d kept his wolf penned for fear of shifting a fragment in his back. He didn’t tell her stepdad that his wolf was probably feeling caged and frustrated. On second thought, probably better if he didn’t.

“The reports also say that you require nightly tethering. Have you been shifting into your wolf during your sleep?”

“No. But in the throes of my nightmares, I sometimes don’t always recognize friend from foe. The tethers keep me from making a mistake.”

“Have you attacked anyone since your return?”

She jumped in. “Enough with the interrogation. I’m telling you, not as your daughter but as a doctor that he’s not dangerous, Dad. I wouldn't have brought him to our home if I thought he was.”

“You would if you were too emotionally invested,” her stepdad replied. “Reports on his behavior are not the only ones I’ve been reading. I know about your current unorthodox treatment of him. You have not been meeting him in an office. On the contrary, you have been gallivanting around the grounds with him and even off grounds. If I didn’t know better, I would almost say you were dating him.”

Derrick protested before she could. “Date? Never. I would never saddle Janine, or anyone else for that matter, with a cripple.”

She punched him again. “Stop calling yourself that. I’ve already told you I don’t care about the fact you’re in the wheelchair. I’m not that shallow. You know why we can’t be together.”

A silence fell after that as the admission echoed around the room. She noted the sly smirk on Derrick’s face. That jerk. She hit him again, the physical venting something she usually never condoned, but Derrick needed the jolt.

“Hey, this is abuse,” he exclaimed.

“Damned straight it is for doing that on purpose. You made me admit I took advantage of you. You’re trying to get me taken off your case.”

“Doing better than trying, Red. Succeeded.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Orson interjected. He fixed a contemplative gaze on Derrick. “Honey,” he said, addressing Janine’s mother, “weren’t you going to start putting out the food? Our guests will be arriving soon. Take June-bug with you to give you a hand.”

Janine folded her arms. “Could you be more obvious about trying to get rid of me?”

“Obvious would be me saying get out so I can talk your boyfriend here.”

“I am not her boyfriend.”

Immediate denial by Derrick and, while the correct answer, a part of her didn’t like hearing it said aloud, not one bit.

“What are you going to ask him that I can’t hear? I am, after all, his doctor.”

“Not for this conversation you aren’t. So get your ass in the kitchen.” When she wouldn’t budge, Orson softened his expression. “I won’t hurt him, June-bug. Promise.”

The trust she had in her stepdad’s word was the only thing that budged her. Despite her trepidation, she let her mother grab her by the hand and drag her into the kitchen. I don’t know if I should leave those two alone. However, the purpose of this trip was for her dad to realize Derrick didn’t pose a menace to society.

The problem was, would Derrick cooperate? She couldn’t be sure what Derrick would say or do with her stepdad. He seemed hell-bent on getting Janine out of his life, more than was normal for a patient who struggled with treatment.

Except let’s be honest here. He doesn’t want to get rid of me because he doesn’t like me as a doctor. He wants to get rid of me because he wants to be with me but thinks he can’t.

She couldn’t help recalling what he’d said. He called me his mate. Drunken rambling or did it hold some truth? And if it did, what did it mean? Was it possible he was mistaken?

What did it say about her confused emotions that a part of her fluttered at the thought of being his mate?

She peeked at her mother, crouched and buried in the fridge, pulling out covered platters and a pre-made pitcher of punch.

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

“You know you can ask me anything.”

“When you met Orson, did it feel…” Janine paused as she tried to figure out a way to say it.

“Feel what?”

“Different. As if there was something different about him. Something that let you know he was the one.”

Dishes rattled as her mother clumsily dropped the one in her hand atop another on the counter. “What do you mean by different, June-bug?”

“You’re Orson’s mate, so he knew right away what he felt when you met and what it meant. But what about you? Did you know when you met him that you’d end up together?” What she didn’t ask—Did your heart race, and your entire being yearn to get closer?

Her mother fixed her with a green gaze that Janine saw every morning when she looked in the mirror. “So many questions with complicated answers. Keep in mind ours was not a traditional courtship. When I met Orson, I was still deeply grieving and depressed about your father.”

“And yet you obviously felt something? I mean, you guys did end up married after all.”

“We did, but Orson had to fight hard for it.” A smile stretched her mother’s lips. “When he came into my life, I truly didn’t think I deserved him. What your father did broke something inside me. I blamed myself.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

“Says the little girl who also shouldered her own burden of guilt. We both know better now, but at the time, I couldn’t help but believe I’d done something wrong. But even worse than that? The fear. I became frightened to let anybody else into my heart. I didn’t want to go through the pain of losing someone I loved again. So, initially, I pushed Orson away.”

“But he didn’t give up.” Janine remembered the flowers that arrived daily, nothing so impersonal as flower shop bouquets. Not for Orson. He picked them fresh from public gardens—and even a few backyards, he later admitted. He took Janine and her mom to dinner and movies, expecting nothing from them except companionship. Even more astonishing to a little girl, he didn’t see how flawed she was. How unlovable. He came to her school concerts. Cheered at her soccer games. And when he did finally marry her mother, he did so with Janine at their side because as he claimed, “We are family.”

“Orson didn’t give up on me, even though I was stubborn and scared. Part of it is his tenacious nature, but a lot of that stubbornness he showed courting me was due to the fact he recognized me as his mate.”

“You know I’ve heard that expression so many times, and yet, what does that really mean? How did he recognize you as his mate? Did he ever explain that to you? How did he know that you were the one for him?” With the barrage of questions, Janine knew she probably revealed more than she should, but who else could she ask? Certainly not Derrick, who pretended what he said was a mistake. Certainly not Orson, who would probably kill Derrick for even looking her way.

“Aren’t you just a curious kitty today,” her mother said with a laugh as she dropped some ice cubes into the glasses she’d poured some punch into. “Any reason why?”

“Wondering because of something I heard.” She wondered if her mother caught the lie. She always did when Janine fibbed as a youngster, but if her mother did, she let it slide this time.

“You’re not the only one curious. I asked Orson about it, and he said it was hard to explain. It was just something he knew. A kind of recognition by him and his bear that I was the one.”

“So kind of like love at first sight?”

“In a sense, yes, except that my understanding is the mating recognition happens on a more primal level. I’ve done a bit of research on it, which given how closely his kind guard their secrets, wasn’t easy. There are a few theories about the mating impulse. Some seem convinced it is a spiritual thing where compatible souls recognize each other and resonate, letting them know they are meant to be. Other texts say that this awareness is more of an animal instinct, the predator in the shapeshifters recognizing the possibilities in breeding females.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s a combination of things. Mystical and animal.”

“If you guys were so compatible, how come you never had kids?” Because if the mating instinct was driven by procreation, shouldn’t that result in a fertile couple?

“We would have liked to, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying.” Said with a pleased grin.

“Mom! Way too much innuendo.”

She laughed. “Such a prude. You asked. As you know, procreation with shifters is not always easy. Some manage it more readily than others. We weren’t one of those lucky couples. But—” Her mother reached over and stroked the hair from Janine’s cheek. “We never minded because we had you. Orson loves you as if you were his own. In his heart and his mind, you are his.”

A soft smile tugged at Janine’s lips. “I know. I know he’ll never let me down.” He wouldn’t leave her. Just like he’d never given up on her mother. That was true love. That was a true mate. So where did that leave Derrick and his claim? Was he or wasn’t he her mate? Could it be he pushed her away because he wanted to avoid tying himself to her? Given his belief he was less than a man, she wouldn’t put it past him.

The real question is, what does this mean for me, for us?

She traced the granite countertop, staring at the pattern, knowing her next question would lead to possibly uncomfortable ones she wasn’t ready to answer, but she had to talk to someone. “What happens if someone meets their mate, but there are obstacles keeping them apart?”

Her mother set the tray she’d prepared back on the counter. “What do you mean by obstacles? June-bug, is there something you need to tell me? Is this about that new patient of yours?”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She had to confide. “He told me last night I was his mate. And then told me I wasn’t this morning. Claimed the booze made him say it.”

“That is not the type of claim his kind make lightly.”

“Can you see my confusion? I know the whole mating thing is a big deal in his culture. Then again, though, his excuse is plausible. He did have a few drinks, and it was his first time out since he got back. I was thinking perhaps he made a mistake. That the excitement of the moment”—and the excitement of the kiss—“made him speak out of turn.”

“I see. Let me ask you, how do you feel about this man?”

The crux of the problem. “I shouldn’t feel anything at all. He’s a patient. He’s going through an emotionally devastating time. He needs my help. It’s probably just transference.”

“Except?” her mother prodded.

A heavy sigh whooshed out of Janine. “Except I feel things for him, Mom. And I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong. So wrong. I’m his doctor. I should be above letting my emotions get involved. But I can’t help myself.”

“Has something happened between you?”

“Yes.” She ducked her head, ashamed of her actions, but not just because she’d crossed a line in their doctor-patient relationship. The shame came from the fact that she wanted to stomp the ethical line that said she couldn’t be with him.

“What are you going to do?”

Another question she had avoided answering. Janine threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t know. The right thing would be me turning over his case. I should have done that the moment my emotions started getting involved.”

“Then why not recuse yourself? Someone else can work with him. You don’t have to. Perhaps some distance will give you both clarity.”

Leave Derrick? Let someone else handle his volatile mood swings? Let another help him realize he had so many reasons for living? Let a stranger possibly destroy the progress she’d made and send him into a tailspin… Never. “I can’t leave him. I have to see this through.”

“Is this because of your father?” Her mother didn’t have to specify which father she meant.

“My whole reason for working as a doctor is because of my father. But, no, my reason for wanting to stay with him is more personal than that. I care about Derrick. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“So you pity him?”

The word brought an angry retort to her lips. “Most definitely not. Derrick is strong. Stronger than he thinks. There’s nothing to pity.”

“Do you fear he’ll do himself harm if you leave?”

Did she? “I don’t think he would.”

“He might if you’re his mate and he thinks you’ve abandoned him.”

Janine glared at her mother. “You’re not helping here.”

“Just trying to help you clarify matters. Keep in mind, you’re my daughter, and you’re talking about having feelings for a man who is so damaged that Orson fears he might have to take action.”

“Derrick isn’t a danger to anyone. He’s angry at his situation, which is normal, but he’s not a monster.”

“Really?” Her mother arched a finely-plucked brow. “Then why are you so frightened about caring for him?”

“Other than the fact I can lose my medical license?”

Palms braced on the countertop, her mother leaned forward and caught her gaze. “Let’s pretend for a moment that the whole doctor/patient thing is not an issue. Let’s just say you’re a woman and a man meeting for the first time. You’re immediately attracted to each other. You enjoy spending time together. What is stopping you from being with him? Is it the fact he’s a shifter? His infirmity? Or is it because, deep down inside, you’re worried he will do to you the same thing your father did? Are you afraid he’ll leave you?”

The direct questions forced her to stop and look within. She analyzed her feelings for Derrick. Attraction definitely existed between them. A simple look or touch and she was ready to melt. She wanted them to be together in a carnal sense, even though she knew he was bothered by the fact of his impotence. Yet, she didn’t find herself bothered by that. She knew satisfaction could come in many ways.

Did the fact he required the use of a wheelchair disturb her? Not really, because she didn’t see the chair. Sure, she understood it posed certain challenges; things that she took for granted, like going to the bathroom, were much more complicated for him. Yet…it didn’t bother her. She didn’t see any handicaps when she looked at him. In her eyes, he was virile and attractive. He also possessed a quick wit and a dark humor.

So why did the thought of being with him worry her? Because, now that she truly analyzed the turmoil in her heart, she couldn’t help but recall a little girl who cried.

I’m scared because, at times, I see the same brewing desperation and depression I once saw in my father’s eyes. Much as she might claim she didn’t think Derrick would hurt or kill himself, at the same time she couldn’t deny he was a man emotionally damaged. A man who could, much as she wanted to deny it, possibly hurt himself if he thought his departure would benefit others.

What if I let him into my heart and he left? She didn’t think she could handle losing someone else like that.

The epiphany was interrupted by her dad entering the kitchen. She frowned as she noted Derrick wasn’t with him.

“Where is he?” she asked with a hint of suspicion.

“Put the glare away. He’s fine. Just visiting the powder room.” Orson snagged a piece of cheese from the tray her mother had uncovered, so nonchalant while Janine burned with curiosity.

“And?” she queried. “Did you make a decision?” In other words, had her stepdad, as a shifter councilman, rendered judgment? Would Derrick live or die?

“Not exactly.”

She couldn’t help an impatience burst. “What does not exactly mean?”

“It means I don’t know.” Orson shrugged. “It’s complicated. Derrick is definitely a man conflicted. But I don’t think he’s a threat yet. He is, however, demanding I take you off his case and that I banish him to a remote location to live out his years.”

“You are not going to do that, are you?” The thought of Derrick vanishing to parts unknown brought a fluttery panic to her chest.

“I would say him leaving or not is up to him.”

“He’s not ready to go anywhere.”

“That is your opinion. His next doctor might feel differently.”

“You are not taking me off his case.” She crossed her arms and adopted her most mulish expression.

“That’s not up to you.”

They might have argued further, but the doorbell rang as the first of the guests arrived. The next little while proved busy and chaotic, with Janine greeting friends and family who showed for the occasion.

As for Derrick, she kept an eye on him, but he didn’t seem as concerned about her. After grabbing a plate of food and a drink, he disappeared. A few times, she went to hunt him down, only to have Orson intercept her.

“I was going to look for Derrick.”

“He’s in the billiards room with a few of my buddies shooting the shit and tossing some darts.”

“I should check on him.”

With a hand on her arm, Orson put a stop to that. “The man is fine. He doesn’t need you hovering over him. Let him socialize. Isn’t putting him in social situations part of his treatment?”

Yes, but she worried about how he handled it. In her blind haste to have Orson see Derrick as benign, she had tossed him into a situation where he might feel uncomfortable.

What if he currently hid in a corner, scowling at the world? Or someone said something and he went off the edge? What if…the guy was laughing as he threw darts from his seat, compensating for his angle and doing quite well.

Seeing him with a smile on his lips, such a rarity, she froze in the doorway. The noise would have hidden her arrival, and yet, he seemed to instantly know she stood there. He turned his head, and they shared a quick glance, quick because he turned away.

He’s giving me the cold shoulder. It didn’t sit well with her at all.

Then, she didn’t have time to worry about Derrick because her ex-boyfriend, Brian, decided to make an appearance.