Nash

I sit on a park bench, watching the little boy named Nolan play in the sandbox. He’s bright-eyed and alert, filling a bucket and using a shovel to pat the sand down. Smart kid.

My boy. My son.

My stomach flips. I’ve been numb all week. In a stupor, really. I hardly remember how I filled the hours until I could drive back to see them.

But I’m not fit to be a dad. Or be a decent mate. Not the kind Denali deserves. I’m nothing but a shell of a male with an animal I can barely control.

For the fortieth time, I survey the park for dangers, cataloging every person, every piece of equipment that might cause injury.

Denali approaches, stopping a few feet away from me. She texted me the address for this park. I guess she didn’t want me to come to her place again, and I gotta respect that.

I notice she stands between me and the boy. She hasn’t introduced us yet. I arrived and sat down to observe. I’m not sure I even want to be introduced. She doesn’t want him to know I’m his dad.

Even while I know that’s for the best, my lion roars with the injustice of it.

Mine. My cub. My mate.

But I can’t claim them. And I sure as hell don’t want to scare Denali off. She’s protective of the boy—and rightly so.

“He’s smart,” I say to Denali.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“How…” My question trails off. I have no idea where to begin, what to ask.

She squats down. “I knew I’d conceived a few days after we... you know. Soon after I saw my chance to escape and took it. I’ve been on the run ever since.”

I swallow. When Data-X took her from her home in New Orleans, they killed her pride—her grandfather and three others. She’s had no one since she escaped. She had this cub... alone.

Of all the unforgivable things I’ve done, leaving her pregnant and alone tops the list. It doesn’t matter that I was a prisoner. I was supposed to protect. The guilt eats my lion alive.

“When I heard the lab burned down, I thought it was safe. I couldn’t run forever. Nolan needed stability.”

So she put down roots that allowed Sam to find her. “You were still hiding from me.”

“Not exactly.” She stops and blows out her breath. “I think I hoped you’d survive. That one day you’d meet him.”

“And then what?” I stare at her, wondering what she’ll say. If there’s a place for me in her and her son’s life. If there is, would I want it? Am I even fit to consider it?

She hesitates, glancing back at the curly-headed boy. “My priority is Nolan. I’d do anything to keep him happy and safe.”

And there it is. The reason I should never have sought Denali out or come here. My life, my animal is the opposite of safe.

My phone buzzes, breaking the silence. I rise. “I’ve got to take this.”

“Nash, it’s Parker.”

“Yeah?” I don’t have a fight scheduled for a few days, so I don’t know what he wants.

“We’re in Tucson. Something happened.”

“What?” I don’t know why the fuck he’s reporting to me like I’m his alpha. Unless they need my help, in which case they’re calling the wrong guy.

“The fight got busted. They took one of the fighters into custody.”

I don’t have time for this drama. I’m in a park watching a child who carries my genes. “Why are you telling me this?” I snap.

“There was a government agent behind it. He was shifter—or at least part shifter. And Nash—he asked about the labs.”

“Fuck.” The ground beneath me tilts.

“I just thought you should know. If Sam was able to find your mate, this guy might be able to, too.”

No.

I can’t have my mate exposed. My mate and her child.

Unacceptable.

I hang up without saying goodbye and stalk back, grinding my teeth.

Denali tenses, like she knows I’m trouble. I blink back my lion. “You need to move,” I say immediately.

She jerks around, looking over both shoulders.

“There’s a government agent hunting down shifters. If I found you, so can they.”

Her eyes flash blue-grey, her lioness showing. “Where?”

“He picked up a shifter in Tucson. Asked him about the lab.”

“Okaaaay. Doesn’t sound like they’re on my trail.”

“No, but you can’t risk it. You need to get out of here. You can stay with me.” Even as I say it, I’m cursing the state of the hovel I’ve been living in. It’s definitely not worthy of Denali and her son.

“I don’t know, Nash. I just got settled. I’ve built up a little business. Nolan loves his preschool.”

A rush of shame runs through me. My mate has been working her ass off as a single mother. I should be providing for them.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Okay. Then I’m staying here. You require protection.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t know…”

I don’t give a shit if she wants my protection or not, she’s getting it. But I understand she doesn’t want me around her cub. She’s not ready for that. I hold up my hand. “I’ll keep out of your way. I promise.” Maybe I can find a place to move into close by. Or I’ll get a fucking tent and pitch it on the hill behind her property. It’s not like I haven’t lived in a tent before. I had five tours in Iraq and Afghanistan.

She gives a non-committal nod, gaze sliding back to the little boy in the sandbox. The boy is casting us similar glances.

“You want to meet him?”

My heart thuds. No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know. I hate that I don’t already know my kid. And I also think Denali is smart not to throw the door wide and let me in. I have nothing to offer my cub. Nothing but heartache and pain.

A frown appears between Denali’s brows.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Definitely.”

“Okay. Come on.” She heads toward the sandbox. I follow a foot behind, checking the park again for anyone suspicious. It’s empty.

The boy stops what he’s doing, but doesn’t get up, just peers up at me, his light brown curls falling across his eyes.

“Nolan, this is, um, a friend of mine. His name is Mr. Nash.”

“Just Nash,” I correct. I squat down. “Hey, Nolan.”

Nolan’s nostrils flare, probably because he’s caught scent of my lion.

“Yeah, I’m like you and your mom,” I confirm. Then I realize mom sounds wrong. Too old for a kid his age. What does he call her? Momma? Mommy? These are things I should know.

He drops his attention back to his sandcastle, tamping the wet sand down.

I’ve never felt so at a loss. “What are you making?”

The boy doesn’t look up. “It’s a robocar. A car that drives itself. Momma wants one so she doesn’t have to deal with traffic.”

Momma. Now I know.

I can’t stop the smile as Denali ducks her head and shrugs. It’s such a tiny, but sweet glimpse into their lives. I picture Denali driving Nolan through town, telling him all the things she wishes for.

The thought actually makes my chest ache. I want to be privy to all her fantasies—even if they’re as benign as a self-driving car. The memory of what we did the last time I was here rushes back and my cock thickens.

Down, boy. Not here. Not in front of her kid. Our kid. Why is that hard for me to accept?

Maybe because I know nothing about children. Or because the cub is a stranger. Or because I’m not going to take on the father role with him. And that thought sets up an itchiness that crawls over every inch of my skin.

Am I going to allow some other asshole to take the role of a father with him?

Over my dead, fucking body.

“I’ve never seen another lion,” the boy says, still not looking up from his work in the sand.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen any, either. I’ve never even seen your momma’s lion,” I admit. The longing to see her animal grabs me like a fist closing around my shirt, tugging me forward into the depths of desire.

It’s an unfamiliar desire. Do I want to mate her in animal form? According to Parker, only same-species shifters can engage that way, which was why he and Declan were the subjects of cross-gene therapy under Dr. Smyth’s study.

Fuck, yes. I want it. Or at least I want the chase. The hunt. I want to run with her, take her down to her back and hold her throat with my teeth to demand her surrender. Then shift and fuck her beautiful body in human form. Because, damn. I would never grow tired of looking at that perfection.

Denali drags her lower lip through her teeth and I wonder if she’s thinking of something similar.

Denali

Twenty minutes with Nash and all I can think about is how to get horizontal with him again. But I can’t. Nolan’s around all weekend. I’m not going to invite Nash in or to sleep over with Nolan in the house.

Not until…

I don’t know.

I’m scared of the depth of my attraction to this guy I know very little about. It’s not that I think he’d ever harm me or Nolan. Not like that.

But I have to be careful. Emotionally.

I don’t want Nolan getting attached to someone if things aren’t going to work out permanently. I don’t want his heart broken.

Hell, I don’t want my heart broken, either. And even though I was the one who did the leaving last time, Nash still took a chunk out of my heart.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been haunting my dreams all this time, would he?

He cages his hands together and I eye the taut cords of his forearms, the golden hairs curling and glinting in the sun. His tattoos peek from beneath his short sleeves. Beautiful man.

Yeah, I want to see his lion, too.

“What about your parents?” Nolan asks Nash. “Didn’t you see their lions?”

I still for the story, needing to know more about Nash. “My parents weren’t around when I was young.” The tightness in his tone tells me there’s a story there. “I grew up in foster care. I never even met my own lion until Afghanistan…” he trails off and I sense he wants to shield Nolan from the terrible things he’s seen in his lifetime. I understand because I have to do it all the time.

“Mr. Nash was a soldier in the war, Nolan. A hero for our country. His lion came out in the war to save him.”

Nolan puts down his shovel and looks Nash square in the eye for the first time. “Are lions heroes?”

Pain flickers over Nash’s face.

I sit cross-legged beside him. “Yes.” I speak over whatever answer Nash was going to give. Or whatever he’s thinking. I don’t like that tortured look in Nash’s eye. He probably has more PTSD than I can even imagine.

“You know the lion is king of the jungle, right baby?”

Nolan won’t look away from Nash. “Are you a mountain lion?”

A surprised laugh comes from Nash. “No. Jungle lion.”

“I thought all lions had dark skin.”

“Ah.” Nash looks at me, surprise flitting over his face, like he’s never considered why he’s white. “Well, yeah. I suppose you’re right—lions come from Africa. I guess my ancestors bred with humans or other shifters in America and gradually their skin got lighter. Just like your skin is lighter than your momma’s.”

“Yep, and mine is lighter than my daddy’s,” I supply. Nolan and I have discussed this before, but I never explained it in terms of breeding. I didn’t want him wondering about the color of his father. I’d just told him different lions were different colors. I don’t know where he got it in his head that lions should have dark skin. Of course, he’s right. The only lion shifters I knew before Nash were of African descent.

“Smart kid,” Nash mutters and my mouth twists in a wry smile.

“Yep.” I hope this doesn’t prompt questions from Nolan about who I bred with to get him. I fear it will.

“Are you my dad?”

Shit!

Way too smart for his own good.

Nash nearly falls over where he was squatting. He makes a show of sitting on his ass and brushing sand away before he answers, “No.”

The single syllable sounds choked and gruff. I can tell it doesn’t sit well with Nash to lie to our child, but I’m grateful he honored our agreement.

Even though the disappointment on Nolan’s face kills me.

Nolan gets up and runs for the swings, like he wants to get away from Nash. Or hide. He’s too little to climb up by himself, but he doesn’t ask for help, just catches the seat and swoops around with it, his little feet dragging behind in the sand.

Nash stands up. For a moment I think he’s going to leave, and I’m half disappointed, half relieved, but instead he walks over to the swings.

“Want me to push you?”

“No.” Nolan sounds sullen.

“You sure?” he asks with mock incredulity. “Because I give the best pushes in the whole entire world. You haven’t heard of me?”

He’s captured Nolan’s attention, but our son is still sulky. “No.”

“Well, I give underdogs, overdogs. High-flyers, low-flyers. Side-flyers. You probably don’t even know what all those are, do you?”

Nolan shakes his head, but he stands up from where he was dragging his knees around in the sand.

“Want to try?”

Nolan shrugs.

“How about this—you give it a try and tell me how you like it, and if it’s not fun, you can get off. Okay?”

Nolan reaches for the chains and Nash lifts him up to sit on the plastic seat. “Now, tell me—do you like to go high?”

“Yes.”

Nash is careful, pulling back the swing without dumping Nolan out the front of it. “Hang on tight.”

I start to move toward them, to stop Nash from sending him too high, but Nash tosses a wink over his shoulder and lets Nolan go gently.

Oh lordy. The male is pure sex when the charm is turned on.

“Higher!” Nolan shouts.

Nash catches him around the waist, keeping him steady on the swing and pushes again. Nolan sails higher, kicking his little feet with glee.

I smile, my shoulders relaxing. This is just exactly how I always imagined Nash as a father—capable, protective, sweet.

Not as the broken male sitting on the park bench when I arrived. Nolan brings out the best in him. Well, I understand that. He’s brought out the best in me, too. He’s taught me love, trust, joy. Vulnerability.

I’d be a bitch to keep that from Nash. To keep him from Nash.

But he’s also my baby. It’s my job to protect him. I need to proceed with extreme caution.

Nash keeps pushing Nolan, so much longer than I ever have patience for. Nolan shrieks, “higher!” and each time Nash takes him a little higher, all the while showing the care for safety that keeps me from interfering.

Finally, in the interest of rescuing Nash, who’s done more than any normal parent would ever do, I intercede. “Okay, baby, let’s give Nash a rest.”

“No!” Nolan cries, kicking his legs. “Higher!”

Nash catches Nolan around the waist and jogs forward with the swing to bring him to a stop. “You heard your momma.” His voice is more cajoling than scolding and something catches in my chest. It’s that longing again.

A mate who backs me up as a parent.

Nash shoves his hands in his pockets, stealing a glance at me.

He wants more. Of course he does.

Can I? Should I?

“I’m hungry,” Nolan announces.

I pull some goldfish crackers out of my purse, and Nolan takes them.

“Well... thanks for inviting me,” Nash says. “I should get going.”

I’m surprised he’s making this easy for me. He’s leaving it open to end the playdate with our son and walk away.

But it feels wrong. Every cell in my body wants to be closer to Nash right now. To get up and personal with him. Invite him home. Take his clothes off. Blow his mind with my mouth on his cock, just to thank him for being so cool with Nolan.

But I know one thing. A dominant lion like Nash doesn’t back down easily. So if he’s giving me this window of opportunity, I need to take it.

“Yeah, it was nice,” I manage to say as I scoop Nolan up to carry on my hip.

Something akin to pain ripples over Nash’s face, but then it’s gone again, before I can guess what it’s about.

“Um, will I see you—”

“You will.” The utter assurance in his voice sends a shiver up my spine. I sense a promise or a vow under his words, but I can’t decipher it. He’s planning something.

Which should cause me worry, but that’s not the emotion skittering through my body.

No. It’s excitement.

Nash hasn’t stopped coming for me.

And he probably won’t.

Ever.

And my lioness is purring over it.