Chapter 3
“This is a nice little place,” Emily observed as they stepped into the cabin. “A bit under decorated, perhaps.”
“Yeah. Mom keeps trying to come over here and give it a makeover, but we have been resisting,” he laughed, following her to the living area.
He looked over the shabby sofa and old wooden chairs they had retrieved from the storage building behind their family home when they had moved here. It was furniture they remembered from their childhood. It was comfortable, familiar. Now, looking at it through someone else’s eyes, he was painfully aware of how tattered it must seem to Emily.
“It’s comfortable enough, anyway,” she told him as she took a seat on the sofa.
“Mom gave it to us from the stuff she had stored in the shed. I think she was elated to be rid of it,” he said apologetically.
“Oh, don’t be self-conscious about it. At least you have your own place. I’m fresh out of my Mom’s house and right into my Aunt Rose’s place. I’d love to have a cabin with repurposed furniture.”
“You don’t like being at your aunt’s house?” he asked, taking a seat beside her and reaching for her hand to hold in his.
“It’s okay. I mean, I appreciate her taking me in and all, but it’s not home. I wish I had just gone ahead and looked for my own place. I guess I just wasn’t prepared to be completely on my own so soon,” she told him, looking at him thoughtfully.
“I guess that is one advantage of having moved out with Owen. It’s like leaving the proverbial nest, but not having to do it alone.”
“The two of you seem close,” she observed, reaching up to run a single finger through his hair. He felt a surge of electricity just from such a simple touch.
“We are. You don’t have any siblings?” he asked, realizing he still knew very little about her beyond the way she made him feel.
“No. My father died a few months before I was born. It was hard on Mom, and she never remarried. She never even had a boyfriend that I knew about in all those years. It was if that part of her – the part that loves one so much they can’t be with anyone else ever again – went with him. I suppose it is the same as how Owen feels. It must be horrible to be so young and lose your mate.”
“I hope to never find out. It seems to be a common thing for dragon shifters, though. Once a mate is chosen, it is forever. It’s not like the outside world where people get divorced or betray one another. I mean, there are exceptions to that, but they are much rarer here. Even our own mother never remarried, but she has begun to at least date a bit here and there.”
“That must be so awkward, to see your mother dating,” Emily laughed.
“It is. I know how the fathers of teenage girls must feel when boys stop by to pick up their daughters. You’re just standing there, sizing up this guy, trying to figure him out. You do your best to impart a silent warning to him that he’d best tread lightly without coming across as interfering in her life.”
“I bet,” she said, laughing. “I can just picture you and Owen standing at the door with your arms folded and glaring at him while he waits on your mother to come out.”
“That is a pretty apt description of it. It usually resulted in Mom shooing us away and telling us to behave,” he replied, sinking into the sofa and laughing along with her. They sat there like that for a few moments, holding hands as they enjoyed their own amusement.
“She’s lucky to have the two of you. You’re lucky to have one another,” she said, her mood shifting so it seemed to be a bit more pensive. He could tell that she missed her mother greatly.
“You should meet my mother. The two of you would get along fabulously.”
“Are you inviting me to meet your mother so soon? You don’t waste any time, do you?” she said, leaning closer into him and snuggling up.
“I could be coy. I probably should be – pretend I’m aloof and all that – but I have to say that I don’t know that I’m completely taken with you. I can see a future with you. Does that scare you?”
“Not in the least. Should it?”
“I don’t know. I’m not always the easiest person to care about. I’m stubborn and strong headed more often than not.”
“That will just make life more interesting then, won’t it?” she said with a soft smile.
“I hope to find out,” he replied, leaning in to kiss her.
They lingered there, lost in one another as their tongues joined in a lazy tango to music that only played in their hearts. Finally drifting away from one another’s lips, their passion high, the sparks between them were unmistakable. Whatever was happening between them was strong and would only grow stronger with every passing day as powerful as it already was.
“As much as I would like to just stay here and kiss you all night, it might be best that I get up and start dinner,” Connor said, breathing the words more than really saying them.
“You are probably right,” Emily replied. “I’m going to go to the bathroom for a moment and freshen up if that’s okay. Where is it?”
“Right through there,” Connor told her, pointing down the lone hallway that ran back toward the two bedrooms of the small cabin. “First door on the right.”
“Perfect,” she replied.
“Yes, you are,” he observed with a grin, letting go of her hand reluctantly.
When she came back, he was in the middle of chopping vegetables for dinner. She stepped up behind him and put her arms around his waist, hugging him to her for just a moment before letting go and stepping around to his side. He could see that she had brushed her hair and touched up her smeared lipstick. She looked beautiful, though he liked her messy, just as well.
“I hope you aren’t allergic to anything,” he told her.
“This doesn’t look like frozen pizza,” she said with a chuckle as she scanned the makings of his planned dinner spread out in front of him.
“Well, I might be able to cook a bit,” he said, playing down his cooking skills.
“Yeah?” she asked, seeming surprised.
“I own a local health store. Part of my education consisted of nutrition and preparation of healthy meals.”
“So, you are a trained nutritionist then?” she marveled.
“Yes. That is what I am,” he chuckled.
“You probably don’t even eat frozen pizza,” she laughed.
“I prefer not to, but I have my fat days like anyone else where I want to eat something that is completely bad for me. I’d rather have a fresh pizza if I have the time to make one, though.”
“Oh, I like you even more now. A man that can cook rather than ordering take out all the time.”
“You could do worse,” he replied with a wink, before tossing the vegetables in a wok with the chicken that had just finished browning. Adding some black bean sauce, he stirred it a bit before stepping over to retrieve plates and wine glasses from a nearby cabinet.
“Red or white?” he asked, pointing toward the small wine rack on the counter with a half dozen bottles of wine.
“Oh, I have no clue what sort of wine pairs with stir fry. I’m far from a wine expert,” she said, seeming embarrassed by it.
“Me neither. They didn’t teach us that in classes. Which do you prefer?”
“Red!” she said enthusiastically.
“Red, it is then,” he replied, pulling a bottle from the rack and sitting it to one side while he returned to the stir fry.
“That smells delicious,” she said, looking into the wok. “I’ll set the table.”
“That would be great,” he replied, lifting the handle and tossing the vegetables about for a moment before moving them into a large, glass bowl. He pulled the spring rolls he had placed in the oven out and sat them on another plate with two small finger bowls of sweet chili sauce and carried it to the table.
“Oh, yum. Spring rolls too?”
“I’m afraid those are the frozen kind, but they are very good ones. We buy them all the time. This isn’t the most glamorous meal, but it’s quick and easy. Hopefully, you will like it,” he told her, putting the dishes on the table and retrieving flatware and a corkscrew from a nearby drawer.
As he poured each of them a glass of wine, Emily sat down adjacent to him so that their legs brushed against one another’s beneath the table. Conversation turned toward Aiden as they ate.
“My aunt says that I should stay away from Aiden. She said that he’s a horrible person.”
“He is.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t really say why. I mean, even meeting him the once, he gave me a creepy vibe, but why does everyone think he is such a bad leader?”
“Our old one, Tomalin, was near death. Though things had been peaceful here for years, he had seen many battles before that time, and they had taken their toll on his health. He had called my father and the Council to his bedside, announcing that he intended to appoint my father as his successor. No one had ever challenged him, and now that he was too sick to fight, it was forbidden. So, he had selected his replacement.”
“But your father died before he could take his place?” she asked.
“Yes. He was killed even before Tomalin passed away and, by that point, the leader was too weak to even make another selection. So, the Council stepped in and made Aiden the new leader. Some say there was bribery involved, but others just chalk it up to my father and Aiden having been close and him being the natural next choice.”
“Your father and Aiden were more than just acquaintances then?” she asked.
“You could say that. They had a history. My father knew what Aiden was, even as far back as when he was a child since my father was a good bit older. Aiden isn’t much older than Owen and I. I think their friendship was more about keeping your enemies closer than friends than anything else.”
“It seems like a strange pairing,” she replied, taking a bite of one of the spring rolls as she squinted toward him, keenly interested.
“I suppose it is, but there were reasons for it. I guess we all have that one friend that no one really can understand why we hang out together. Mine is Owen,” he said with a laugh.
“I think that Owen has a lot more friends than anyone realizes. I haven’t met anyone that dislikes him, though they all comment on his sadness,” she said.
Connor took a sip of wine and nodded. It was no secret that Owen had emotional issues, and there were very few in the town that weren’t aware of them. Margaret’s parents had long since moved away, unable to bear being near where they had lost her. They had initially blamed Owen for her death and that, no doubt, had gone a long way toward his continued self-blame. Even once they had come around and apologize for their treatment of him, it did nothing to change how he felt about himself.
“He does. I think he knows that. He just can’t bring himself to get close to anyone these days.”
“Understandable,” she replied, her melancholy apparent.
“Anyway, Aiden has been brutal in the way he handles the people here. He makes laws and rules that keep them from prospering financially. All housing additions have to be approved by the Council, and they rarely allow anything to pass because it doesn’t suit Aiden’s agenda. He won’t let certain businesses open if they compete with one of those owned by himself or his cronies, so there is no competition for the high prices they charge. Cross him, and you get exiled or tossed in a dark hole, never to be seen again. That’s just the tip of the iceberg known as Aiden.”
“Wow. I had no idea,” she said, setting her wine glass down.
“Refill?” he asked, already reaching for the bottle to top up his own.
“Yes, please,” she replied.
Connor poured them each a glass of wine as they set about finishing their meal between conversations about some of Aiden’s antics in the village. Emily seemed shocked that he had gotten by with his behavior for so long.
“Why has no one challenged him?’
“I think it’s a mix of things. There has been peace for so long, no matter what the cost, that no one wants to break it. Plus, failure to take him down would end badly for their families. They are afraid that if they take him on and lose, their loved ones will suffer at his hands.”
“That is truly awful,” she replied.
“Yes, to put it mildly,” he told her.
Finishing up their meal, they did the dishes together before settling back onto the sofa to watch a movie. It felt incredibly comforting and wonderful to have Emily there with him, and before either realized it, they had fallen asleep together. It had been a perfect evening, in Connor’s opinion. Just having her with him seemed to be the response to a prayer he hadn’t even been aware he had needed answered.
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