“Winston residence, how may I help you?”
“Lyla! Thank goodness you answered. I need your help!”
Lyla sat her book down and laughed softly.
“Slow down, Betsy. What’s the matter?”
“My brother, Jonah, is coming back from deployment and I wanted to greet him with a casserole, his favorite, the kind mom made us before…anyway, I’m out of milk but I have a billion things to do…”
“Say no more,” Lyla said. “Whole milk, right?”
“Yes! The ones that Maggie and her husband sell. We’ve got to buy local, right? Support the shifter economy…”
“Of course,” Lyla agreed. She had been in Stonybrooke for two and a half years and knew just how important it was that it remain a self-sufficient place where shifters took care of themselves. It was especially important to Betsy, who had begun an organization for underprivileged shifters who couldn’t seem to find a place within the packs in Stonybrooke.
Lyla had a small amount of shifter blood. Her grandfather was a wolf shifter, but she was mostly human, and as such, she had no abilities to shapeshift whatsoever. Still, she’d always wanted to visit the famous Stonybrooke her grandfather had spoken so passionately about, and after his death, she had moved there in hopes of finding some answers. She felt like something was missing after he had gone, and she hoped, that in Stonybrooke, she would find it.
“You’re a lifesaver!” Betsy exclaimed. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you arrive; just let yourself in.”
“Okay,” Lyla said. “See you soon.”
She grabbed the car keys from the counter of her tiny bungalow, the first little home she had owned all her own. She was proud of it, but there were little things going wrong all the time and she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like if she could afford one of the more impressive architectural buildings in Stonybrooke. The wolf shifters may have had a simple, outdoorsy style, but regardless of that fact, they were remarkable craftsmen.
“There is nothing a wolf prides himself on more than his territory,” her grandfather had confided in her. “That’s why we are so selective about our mates and where we lay down roots. And why we upkeep it with such diligence. Someday, you will have a family of your own and understand just what I mean.”
Lyla smiled to herself as she turned the ignition of her car and headed down the road to the carryout, where they sold the locally collected milk from Maggie’s farm. Lyla’s grandfather had never treated her like anything but a shifter, despite her never having been raised around other shifters in a community or a pack. He wanted her to hold strongly to the shifter side of the family, despite her blood being mostly human. She knew other shifters looked down on her if she called herself a shifter. She couldn’t transform her body. She barely had a shifter’s scent. But to her grandfather, she was a wolf through and through.
Even though she often doubted her place in the shifter world, she felt secure in her identity. Unfortunately, her grandfather’s words left Lyla feeling pained. It seemed impossible that she would ever have a family. Not only had she lost her parents at a young age, and was raised by her grandfather, but every time she got involved with a man, something seemed to go very wrong. Without fail. She had been hurt more times than she cared to remember. Maybe that was a small part of why she had come to Stonybrooke. To get away from human men who so often convinced Lyla to put their needs before her own.
Lyla pushed the thoughts away as she pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. As she roamed the aisles, she hesitated in front of a bottle of her favorite wine. It might do as a nice gift for Betsy’s brother. She’d never met him before, and wanted to make a good impression. Anybody that Betsy loved, Lyla would do her best to get along with. Betsy was the kindest-hearted person that Lyla had ever met.
Would it be a mistake to get a man a bottle of wine? Whiskey could do just as well, couldn’t it? At any rate, she had an overwhelming feeling he might enjoy it, and had to try to learn how to trust her intuition. Whether Betsy gave it to her brother as a gift or not, it would at least be a small offering to make his welcome warm. After all, he hadn’t been back since his parents were killed and he’d been recruited by the military. Betsy was foggy on the details, but it was clear her brother was a very talented man, who had quickly climbed the ranks.
Finally, after a few more moments of debate, Lyla grabbed the wine and then retrieved the milk from the cooler. It was an expensive impulse purchase, but it would be worth it. At least, she hoped so. It was good to honor the troops who fought to preserve freedom and give them a nice welcome home. If nothing else, the wine would help to dull the pain of coming home after so long. It had to be difficult.
When Lyla arrived at the Lucas household, she found the kitchen in chaos. She had to keep from laughing as she gazed at the disarray; it was so unlike the cool and collected Betsy to let anything like this fluster her so much.
“Lyla, there you are!” Betsy exclaimed, her arms buried deep in the oven as she pushed her casserole inside. “Can you give me a hand and stir the beans?”
“Of course,” Lyla said, setting her grocery bags on the table and stepping carefully to the stove. There were empty paper bags strewn all over the floor. It was clear Betsy was preparing a feast fit for the entire town of Stonybrooke. It was over the top, but it was also kind of adorable.
“Thank you!” Betsy exclaimed. “I’m just so nervous and excited. I haven’t seen Jonah in so long!”
“Well, I’m sure he’s going to be very pleasantly surprised. It smells amazing in here!” Lyla said. “I could smell food cooking before I even walked through the door.”
“Oh, this is nothing. I haven’t even gotten started on desserts. My god, I’m worried it won’t all be finished before Jonah gets here,” Betsy said, her face suddenly balking in panic as the weight of her ambitions began to crash down on her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do! I only have a few more hours!”
“I can stay and help if you want! I won’t even beg for scraps,” Lyla said, stirring the beans carefully and turning the heat down. They were just about perfect. Lyla’s grandfather would be shocked to see her now. Cooking hadn’t been her strong suit until she’d had Betsy around to show her the ropes.
“Would you really? Are you sure you don’t have work to do?”
“I was just doing some research for my next article. It’s really nothing special. I’d love to stay and help!”
“Bless you, Lyla Winston!” Betsy cried, standing up straight with a wince and throwing her arms around Lyla. “Get washed up and we’ll get you something to do. I want everything to be perfect for tonight!”
“Well then, perfect it shall be,” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’re a crew of two now.”
Betsy beamed, relief apparent in her features. It was nice to see her friend like this. It was so difficult to get a smile out of Betsy, sometimes. She could seem so far off in her own little world that it could be hard to get through to her at times.
Lyla knew it was because Betsy was lonely. It was painfully obvious. She missed her family more than anything, and Lyla could relate. Wolves were such pack animals; living alone seemed like one of the most difficult things in the world, especially for someone as sensitive and loving as Betsy, who always seemed to want to be nurturing somebody. She would have made a great mother if she was able to have children.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case, and Betsy refused to date even if she could. Lyla suspected she was secretly afraid of disappointing the man she loved with the news that they would never be able to have children together.
“Let’s get to work!” Betsy said cheerfully once Lyla returned to the kitchen and donned her apron.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a bustle as Lyla and Betsy worked their hardest to create a meal worthy of a Navy SEAL.
***
“Oh! He’s here!”
Lyla looked up in surprise. She hadn’t heard anything, but sure enough, just a few moments later, the doorbell pierced her ears.
“It will just take a few more minutes before this pie is finished, I can sneak out the back and he’ll never know!” Lyla said, hurrying to the stove.
To her surprise, Betsy laughed and shook her head. “No, I’d love to introduce you to Jonah. He was my parents’ pride and joy, you know. I remember how pleased they were when he was born. He looked just like our father.”
Betsy’s eyes grew wistful, and Lyla rushed to her friend’s side, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sure they were proud of you too, Betsy,” Lyla said.
Betsy nodded dismissively and moved through the kitchen to answer the door. Lyla was going to stay in the kitchen, but Betsy gestured for her to follow. It seemed kind of like an imposition to be there the first time Betsy saw her brother in such a long time, but maybe her friend was in need of emotional support. Lyla couldn’t overthink it, there was no time, and so she absently began to follow Betsy into the foyer to greet Jonah.
“Bets.”
The deep, masculine voice that rolled into the house electrified Lyla deeply, and when she was able to see past Betsy and into the doorway, a pair of brooding, beautiful eyes studied her intently. His hair was as dark as midnight, and his chiseled, brooding face softened only when Betsy offered to take his coat. The man was handsome. Really handsome.
“Who’s this?” he asked, almost accusingly. Betsy laughed nervously and led her brother into the living room as he kept his eye on Lyla; suspicion – and something else – flashing in his dark eyes.
“This is my closest friend,” Betsy said, nodding meaningfully toward Lyla. She wanted her to introduce herself.
“Lyla,” she said, offering her hand to the dark man. He took it stiffly, and a jolt of heat shocked her body.
“Jonah.”
“Well, now that we’re all acquainted, Lyla here is going to be staying for dinner,” Betsy said, walking briskly to the kitchen. “Why don’t you get Jonah a drink while I take the casserole out of the oven?”
“Sure,” Lyla said, her stomach fluttering. Jonah sat his suitcase down.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said to Lyla as Betsy disappeared through the doorway. “I know where everything is.”
“It’s no trouble. I’m sure it’s been a long trip for you,” Lyla said firmly, pushing Jonah’s shoulder gently to ease him down onto the couch. He sat, his eyes flashing, and she drew her hand away quickly. Maybe it was a mistake to touch a decorated man from the Navy, even if she didn’t know just what it was that he did there.
“Well, thank you, ma’am,” Jonah said gruffly. Still, his thanks sounded a little forced, as if she were invading his privacy by being in his home. And maybe she was. But it would be even worse to abandon her best friend. It was becoming more and more clear that Betsy was in need of some major emotional support. She hadn’t seen her brother in so long. It probably didn’t even feel real to her.
Lyla made her way to the little liquor cabinet in the corner of the room and gazed at the bottles inside. She had left the wine in the kitchen, unthinkingly, but the moment didn’t really seem like a wine sort of occasion. The air was too stiff. What would a man like Jonah want to drink? Something light to loosen him up? Or maybe something strong. Very strong.
After a brief deliberation, Lyla decided on a straight whiskey on the rocks, one for Jonah and one for herself, and returned to the couch.
“Thanks,” Jonah said, lifting the glass from Lyla’s hands. His finger brushed over hers and she shuddered involuntarily as a small wave of heat moved through her body. “This is perfect.”
A wave of relief, and a small surge of pride, washed over her. She had pegged him right.
“So how long will you be staying in Stonybrooke?” Lyla asked. “Are you on leave or something?”
Jonah’s features became drawn again and Lyla kicked herself. He clearly wasn’t the kind of man who spoke openly about himself. In fact, she was getting the feeling that the more she asked, the more closed off he would be. Still, it wouldn’t kill him to be a little more friendly. It was casual conversation, for goodness sake. What kind of barbarian would she be if she didn’t try to start a conversation?
Besides, there was something about him she was simply drawn to. Was it so wrong to want to know just a little more about him?
“I’m just here for a visit,” Jonah finally replied, as if he had suddenly resigned himself to the inevitability of conversation. “Maybe a month or two. But it really depends, I’m on call.”
“Of course,” Lyla said, looking down at her glass. They fell into a comfortable silence before Betsy bustled into the room.
“Time to eat!” she said cheerfully.
Jonah’s gaze lingered on Lyla for a moment, bringing a hot flush to her cheeks, before he stood and walked past her as if she weren’t even there.
“Sounds good, sis. What are we having?”
Lyla watched him as he walked away, her eyes surely burning a hole into Jonah’s back as he disappeared into the kitchen. If she had known that this was Betsy’s brother, she would have done what she’d wanted to in the first place and snuck right out the back.
And yet, she couldn’t help herself. Lyla sat her glass down on the coffee table and followed Jonah helplessly. Whether she liked it or not, she was there to dine, and for better or for worse, dine together they would.