Tamara
“This is where you live?” The drive up from town was long and winding with switchbacks and sharp curves.
“The view is worth it.” Cree led her to the small front porch. In the late afternoon sun, they could see for miles. “I’ve got Tennessee in my backyard,” he teased.
The color variations were exquisite. Every shade of green imaginable lay before Tamara. Dark verdant green to the bluish trees that gave the range its name. Cottonball-shaped clouds dotted the sky against a backdrop of endless blue.
“It almost looks not real. Like a movie backdrop or something.”
“Waking up every morning and seeing this is the best part of my day.”
“I bet. I wouldn’t mind waking up to that view either.” Tamara blushed as she realized what she just said. Would Creole take it as an invitation?
Creole’s gaze grew hooded. “Maybe someday you will.” He waved a hand, inviting her to sit on the porch. “Your mom doesn’t know where you are?”
Tamara rolled her eyes. “I told her I was going to college.”
“Will she call the police? Demand you go back to Phoenix?”
“I don’t know how she could. I’m a high school graduate and a legal adult. If I don’t want to live with my… with Adele any longer, why is that the police’s business?”
“You don’t call her Mother anymore?”
Tamara licked her lips. “Can I get a drink?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Of course. Sorry.” Cree stammered, jumping up to get her a drink. “Is water okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. A little ice, too, please.”
Tamara followed him inside, already feeling the tug of needing to be in the same room with him. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she needed it.
“Adele stopped being my mother the day she traded me for one of her boyfriends,” Tamara said. She hugged herself, hands tight on her forearms. Self-comfort was the only comfort she allowed.
Creole stopped, hands in mid-air as the ice slipped into the tumbler. “What?”
“She liked to tell men I was younger than I was. Dress me up in little girl outfits. Told me to talk like a child.” Tamara’s words were bitter. “I was her shark bait.”
His hands trembled as he fought with his anger on her behalf. “That fucking bitch.”
“We engaged in a battle of attrition. I shaved my head. Wore black lipstick. Found a job working long hours. Anything I could think of to get me out of the house.”
He smiled at her, admiration in his eyes. “I would love nothing more than to hug you.” For a moment time stood still. Their gazes met as attraction arced between them. A magnetic force drawing them together.
Tamara nodded, hoping she wouldn’t regret trusting Creole. In all the years she’d known him, he’d never let her down. But as her mother taught her, there was a first time for everything. “I haven’t been touched in ten years,” she admitted. Her lips trembled with emotion. “Be gentle.”
“Forever,” Cree whispered reverently. He walked over with the same fluid grace he always had. As he looked at Tamara, his eyes burned with love and regret. Standing so close, he was in the shadow of her breath. Instinctively Tamara swayed toward him, needing the very touch that her mind wouldn’t let her accept.
But their arms were awkward at first, neither knowing where to touch. “How about if you hug me,” Cree suggested.
Tamara bent over and pressed her forehead to his chest. He was as warm as life itself. Offering peace and strength and asking for nothing in return.
“Is this okay?”
She hated the insecurity in his voice, wishing she could give him the confidence he so freely gave her. Tamara took his hand and clung to it. Old nightmares faded away as she basked in his strength.
Slowly Tamara’s head came up. She drew in a deep breath sending much-needed oxygen through her starved cells. Cree’s hand hovered over her cheek not daring to touch. For that instant, his heat radiated out. Warming her.
Tears stood in her eyes before flowing silently down her cheeks. His eyes never leaving hers, Cree wiped them away.
With dream-like slowness, Tamara turned her face until her lips rested against his palm. When she spoke, her breath gently caressed his skin. “Thank you for understanding.”
Cree’s body tensed. She knew he was fighting instincts to touch her. And at that moment, she loved him more than she ever thought possible. Slowly she released his hand. For a moment Cree held his palm against her cheek before he withdrew.
“Are we okay?” he whispered.
Tamara nodded. She knew it was less than what he wanted, but it was more than she ever thought possible.
“May I?” he asked, body language indicating he wanted to kiss her forehead.
Tamara nodded, relief coursing through her when neither fear nor bile rose at his touch. But it gave her hope that someday she could be his mate in body as well as in her soul.
“Pick a movie,” Cree invited, withdrawing from the brief touch of his lips against her forehead. “I’ll pop some popcorn.”
“Like a date?”
“A cheap date,” Cree said with a wry grin. “But mostly a chance to sit next to you on the couch.”
“Don’t you need to work?”
“Jason is better with the customers. I handle the books and deal with the vendors. They know where to find me if something comes up, but for tonight I’m yours.”
Tamara giggled. In surprise, she covered her mouth with one hand. Eyes crinkling with humor, she said, “Was that me?”
Cree laughed. “Afraid so, Tams. Face it, you’re a giggly teenager.”
Resisting the desire to fling the pillow at his head, Tamara looked at his DVD collection. “These are all the action movies,” she complained.
“I’m a guy. I watch action movies,” Cree defended himself and his taste in movies.
“Really? Then how do you explain this?” Tamara held up the 1940s rom-com.
Cree blushed. “That’s a really good movie.”
“Uh-huh. With Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn. Is the popcorn done?”
They settled into the overstuffed couch. Near, but not touching, although she knew Cree took several deep inhalations to catch her scent.
The movie logos appeared, and for a little while, Tamara forgot about her mother. Elliot. The truths she needed to reveal to Cree. The past was suspended, and they lived in the moment.
For the next hour and a half, they were just Cree and Tamara again. Two old friends reconnecting and getting to know each other once more.
The hope of a new life bubbled inside of her. It was far less than Cree deserved, but the sweetest dream she had ever had. A baby-step in the right direction.
Cree
Cree spent more time watching Tamara then he did the old black and white movie. He didn’t care which of the men got the girl, as long as Cree got his girl.
What Cree did like, though, was watching her amused reactions. “Her chemistry with Bogart is palpable,” she said as she glanced up at him.
“Yeah, you can tell they were a couple,” Cree commented absently.
Tamara looked up at him. She stopped chewing as they watched each other. Letting the chemistry build between them. Cree was a hunter. Patient. Skillful. Stoic. He was prepared to wait five, ten, twenty years if he had to. But Tamara was not going to deny the chemistry that tied them together.
Tamara broke their gaze first, digging into the bowl for another handful of popcorn. Once more, the storyline pulled her back under, and his heart beat faster with love as she watched the shenanigans of the actors.
“Which brother do you think she winds up with?” she asked between mouthfuls of popcorn.
“Are either of them shifters?”
“Not everyone is a shifter.”
“Well, whichever one is a shifter, that’s the guy who should get the girl.”
Tamara smiled and tossed a piece of popcorn towards his face. Instinctively, he opened his mouth to catch the flying projectile.
Her eyes opened wide, and for a moment Cree wondered if she still thought about that day. Did his snapping jaws remind her of the ugliness of her childhood?
“You should get a job in the circus,” Tamara teased.
“As what?”
“One of the acts. Like those seals that play musical instruments.”
Cree shook his head. “No wild animal deserves to live in a cage.”
Tamara’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t mean like that,” she stammered. “Just when you grabbed the popcorn.” Her voice trailed off. “It was a joke.”
“I know. But living in a cage is real for too many animals.” Cree shrugged and tried to lighten the mood. “Tell you what. How about I keep whenever you throw at me?”
“Deal.” Her nose wrinkled adorably.
Cree grinned to himself. He had it bad when even the woman’s adorably crinkled nose made his pulse race. He ached to gather her in his arms. To hold her, feel her melt and flow along his body as she accepted his embrace.
“Tell me how you bought the Lusty Leopard.” Her eyes were bright with curiosity.
Cree shrugged, settling deep into the cushions. “After I turned eighteen, I didn’t know quite what I wanted to do. It’s not like I could just get a job at a grocery store or something. I was now a registered shifter with a record.”
“It was self-defense!”
Cree smiled. He hadn’t realized how much he missed having someone defend him. “Still, I had a record. My name was in the paper. It wasn’t some petty theft where I could move to a new town and start over. I killed a man.”
“A monster.”
“You’re not going to get an argument out of me over that one.”
“Did the army want you?”
Cree lifted one eyebrow and looked at her. “I have a hard enough time with people around me, period. No way could my cat have tolerated that many other shifters.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess you are a bit of a loner, aren’t you?”
Moving in slow motion, Cree twined one of her curls around his finger. “Some company I don’t mind.” He smiled when she blushed at his husky tone.
“Is that how you got to Silver Fells?”
“There were rumors in the shifter community about Maxwell Mountain. The guy who owned it, Quinn, was still in the army when I moved here. Met him when he was on leave, but by then I was pretty well settled on his land.”
“He didn’t mind?”
“No, you’ll meet him tomorrow. He’s a Mastiff shifter. Very laid back. Not alpha in the traditional sense. Not like bears and big cats. He just herds us along, as gentle as you please, and before you know it, you’re doing exactly what he wanted you to do in the first place.”
“Sounds like a smart man.”
“So, there I was. Young, in mourning for my mate. Angry. A bad case every which way I turned. I showed up at the bar and asked about work.” Cree flexed his muscles, and Tamara giggled appropriately. “Figured I could be a bouncer or something.”
Tamara’s lips twitched. “I’ve seen several bear shifters, Creole. Even compared to you, they’re huge.”
Cree snorted. “No freaking shit. You can’t give those assholes an inch. I’d take one of them on in a heartbeat if I had to. But no way was I going to be able to bounce one of them out if they started a fight.”
“What job did he give you?”
“I was his bar back. Lousy job, heavy work, shitty hours. I hated it, but it kept me out of trouble.”
“Eventually, you took it over?”
Despite the early hour, Tamara’s eyelids were starting to droop. “He still owns most of it. I saved my money and bought in as a partner.”
“But you’re not a leopard.”
He snorted. “If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I could buy my own damn rosettes.”
She laughed at his joke, yawned, and settled deeper into the heavenly soft cushions of the couch. From one heartbeat to another, she fell asleep.
Cree held his breath, not wanting to move. Not wanting to shift gravity in his favor. Wanting, no needing, to respect his Tamara’s boundaries. He reached over her for the quilt he kept on the back of the couch, but when he did so, she slid into him.
Feeling as though she had died and gone to heaven, Tamara snuggled into his chest and began gently snoring. Cree settled the blanket around her and closed his eyes. Damned if a nap didn’t sound good to him, too.