CHAPTER THREE

 

 

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Martha eyed the big man and frowned inwardly. They’d agreed to be friends, and she could live with that, but still, it nagged her as to why. Why, when all of his life he’d been searching, as shifters do, for his mate, and when he’d found her, he only wanted to be friends?

It sounded a little fishy to her. Sure, she got the principle of why two people in their twilight years wouldn’t want a bit of this, that, and the other – hips weren’t what they used to be. He might have been a snowy top, but he was still a damn fine specimen of a man.

It wasn’t as though his plumbing worked on creaky pipes either. Goddess only knew, she’d seen his flagpole hoist his colours, and it was no small endeavour. So, she’d come to the conclusion that it had to be her.

Martha knew that when she looked in the mirror, there was an old person looking back at her. Weather worn and wrinkly, and saggy in places she didn’t know could sag, but that was her life experiences to date.

Nobody could hold back time indefinitely – and the ones that paid to do it looked scary; as if their whole face was frozen in fright and not quite formed into real features, like Odo, from Star Trek – with everything unnaturally smoothed out. That wasn’t for her.

She understood his mindset – but that didn’t mean that on some level it didn’t hurt just a little.

“You’re no spring chicken yourself, you know?” Martha bit out, and Thorn pulled his attention away from the newspaper he’d been pretending to read and turned a slow, curious look upon her.

“Were we having a conversation, and I nodded off?” He asked. He knew they weren’t because he’d been sitting there trying to hold onto his beast’s infernal grumbles and growls at his inaction to seal the deal with their mate.

“Yes,” Martha snapped back as she realised she’d not filtered that thought and had just blurted it out.

“Well, that says a lot for the company I’m keeping,” he tossed back with a wry smile and watched a flash of annoyance bubble beneath the surface of her piercing gaze. That witch had so many tells, and he was learning them all.

“Go boil your head,” Martha huffed as she picked up the book that she’d been trying to read for the last half an hour and glared at the pages while willing her mind to get off him and onto the task at hand.

“You have such a delicate turn of phrase,” Thorn tossed back and bit down on the smile that threatened his lips once more. He could do nothing about the amusement that filled his eyes for this was a slow dance that he was determined would lead to something much more fulfilling.

Martha sighed and let the book rest on her lap once more. “You know – friends don’t live in each other’s pockets – you can leave at any time.” She nodded towards the front door.

Thorn had been pacing outside her little cottage the whole damn night, or his beast had. He’d been listening to her toss and turn in her bed – sigh, and fart, and he was grateful when she’d given up the pretext of sleep at six o’clock, and he could slip into his clothes and knock on the door.

He wasn’t about to be tossed out in the rain now like an unwanted pet that had pooped on the rug.

“I could, but I have a problem with that…”

“Do enlighten me,” she asked with an icy touch to her tone that neither he nor his beast enjoyed hearing.

“You’re still my mate…”

“Don’t remind me…”

“Make up your mind…”

“Don’t get stroppy with me…”

“Don’t ask for an explanation and then not want to hear it,” Thorn shrugged.

Martha chewed that thought over. “Continue.”

“Thank you…”

“Welcome.”

“Stop now,” he grumbled and watched as she readjusted herself in her seat and royally waved a hand for him to continue. “I agreed to be friends, what I didn’t agree to was not protecting you…”

“From what?” her voice had notched up to just below shrill.

“At this point – yourself…”

“Buzzard of a man…”

“Shrew of a witch…”

“Did I say anything about being a shifter? No, but you just had to throw it in there that I have powers, didn’t you?” Martha suddenly pushed up to her feet. “And that’s the very reason – I knew it – it’s because I’m a witch!” she huffed.

“Woman – I have no idea what you’re flapping your lips about, but…”

“Oh, flapping my lips – of course!” she snapped and tossed her book down on the chair behind her. “Well, this woman is still all woman, and if you weren’t such a muggly old fuddy fart face than you’d see that.” She tipped her chin up in defiance and stalked off to the kitchen.

Thorn opened his mouth to speak, and his beast growled at him. He wouldn’t mind accepting the wolf’s anger if he thought he’d actually upset their mate – but, in truth, he had no damn idea of what was going on in that woman’s head.

“I get the feeling that one of us is going loopy, and I don’t think it’s me,” he muttered, but his wolf just growled at him some more. “Like you could do a better job in winning her over.”