Mila

“I’ll wait here,” Pierce said uncomfortably as she popped the door open and got out.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Mila wasn’t entirely sure what had come over him. It seemed like everything about the city was giving him anxiety, hitting him with panic attack after panic attack. Part of her found it mildly amusing.

Here was this huge bear shifter, stronger than any human, capable of crushing metal with his bare hands, and yet some tall buildings and crowds reduced him to a half-frightened mess? The irony was…heavy.

Outweighing that though, was a driving need to do something about it. To help him, to be there for him. Somehow she needed to figure out how he could get over whatever was bothering him, and get him acclimated to city life.

The instant she pushed the front door open Pierce was there at her elbow, like an eager puppy dog waiting to be let in. She’d not even heard him move.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just…this is a lot. For me to take in. So. Many. People. It’s rather overwhelming.”

Mila nodded and hurried him inside. “There, we’re good now, right?” she asked, locking the door behind them.

While he’d managed to kick off his boots, Pierce was pacing back and forth like a frantic person awaiting bad news, striding through her sitting room to the left across the hallway to the bathroom on the right. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“Do you have a basement?” he asked abruptly, standing straight up.

Mila nodded, confused, though she managed to point the door under the stairs out to him.

He darted toward it and disappeared down the stairs.

“The light switch is on a wooden pole on the left!” she called as he vanished into the darkness.

He’s a shifter, dummy. He doesn’t need the light.

At a much more timid pace, Mila followed him down the stairs, reaching for the knob and twisting it. The dimmer came on and she brightened the basement just enough for her to both see and find Pierce.

He was lying on the floor off to her right, on the carpet, his eyes focused on her.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “This has got to be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, to be honest with you.”

She found herself smiling. “It’s okay, Pierce. We all have weaknesses, or things that we react to unexpectedly. Nobody, and I mean nobody—not even you big, tough shifter boys—is immune to that. You are, after all, part human, and that comes with the territory.”

The grin he flashed up at her threatened to stop Mila’s heart in its tracks. It also sent her stomach flip-flopping and she felt a little lightheaded. So she did the only smart thing: she sat down next to the shifter and put her arm on his shoulder.

Pierce’s muscles relaxed slightly at her touch, much to her surprise. Every time she’d touched him up until then, even in jest, he’d tightened up. Not much, but enough that she’d noticed it. At first she’d wondered if he was flexing, trying to show off, but she’d soon realized it wasn’t that. Not after seeing him flex once during the car ride as a joke. His muscles moved a lot more when he tried to flex.

She wondered what it all meant.

“Hey, I have an idea!” she said as her eyes roamed the basement.

“What?” He sat up a little as she rose excitedly.

“This might help you calm down,” she said, walking over to the dry bar that was tucked underneath the stairs. “What’s your poison? Whiskey? Scotch? Vodka? Rum?”

“Tranquilizer-laced beer?” he asked hopefully.

She shot him a look. “That’s not actually a thing with you.”

He didn’t respond.

“Is it?” she asked hesitantly.

Pierce shrugged. “Normal human beer doesn’t do anything to us, except in large quantities. So the special stuff brewed for us is a much higher alcohol percentage, and is also laced with a very, very mild dose of tranquilizer, so that we don’t get too irate.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t always work though. It’s amazing what a shifter temper can do when aroused while drunk.”

Mila shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather avoid that sort of thing.”

He waved a hand. “Nothing to worry about today. I’ll take the whiskey, if you don’t mind. Any chance you’ve got some cold stones for it, and not ice?”

“As a matter of fact,” she said haughtily, “I do. I prefer to be prepared.”

An arched eyebrow was his only response.

“Okay, so I prefer whiskey or scotch over wine and chick drinks most of the time,” she admitted. “Is that a crime?”

Pierce’s eyes could have blazed with delight at her words, if such a thing were actually possible. But she was fairly sure they just widened slightly, probably in surprise.

“No. No not at all,” he assured her, moving into a sitting position as she brought him a tumbler rather full of golden-amber liquid.

He glanced at it, then back at her.

“You said you need more than a human to feel it,” she said. “What’s your big problem?”

“I just didn’t realize you’d understand so thoroughly.”

Mila laughed and went back, pouring herself two fingers worth of the liquid, splashing it gently around the single cold stone she put into her tumbler. “The last thing I want you doing is rampaging around my house. If I need to get you buzzed to do that, then I have no shame in admitting I will, and without hesitation.”

Pierce smiled at that.

“So, Mila of the unknown last name…”

“Real smooth,” she said dryly. “But fine. It’s Chaire. Like the singer.”

“Huh?”

She spelled the name out for him. “Not like the piece of furniture.”

“So, Mila Chaire,” he said, emphasizing the shh part of her name.

She rolled her eyes. “What now? One sip of alcohol and you’re good to go?”

Pierce looked away, and she thought she saw something like embarrassment on his face. Whatever it was he quickly locked it away.

“No, no I’m not. But the conversation is…pleasantly distracting,” he said, as if choosing his words carefully.

“I see.”

“So tell me.” He ignored her questioning tone. “What do you do for a living in this city?”

She shrugged, thinking of a way to phrase what it was she did. “I work in, um, Acquisitions, I guess you might call it, for a national company.”

“Acquisitions?”

Mila nodded slowly. “Yep. I get things the company needs.”

“So like, Purchasing?”

“Sort of, but I don’t handle the financial end of it. I go out and actually locate, ah, products the company needs.”

Pierce stared at her, and she tried to meet his gaze.

“If you say so,” he said with a shrug.

Mila scratched the back of her neck. “The details of it are rather, um, embarrassing, okay? So I just don’t want to fully explain. Maybe once I know you better.”

The big shifter seemed to accept that answer and settled back onto his side, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Thank you for bringing me, despite…despite,” he frowned, then waved a hand at himself. “Despite all this.”

“Nonsense,” she said with a wave. “What’s a crushed seatbelt between new friends?”

Pierce smiled. “So, is your husband coming home soon? I don’t want him to freak out about me being here.”

Mila’s mouth almost dropped open in surprise at his question.

Are you fishing for information on whether I’m seeing someone, mister shifter? You spend five minutes in my house, I give you one drink, and suddenly you’re worried about a husband?

Then again, it was a valid question. If she did have a husband or significant other, they might look rather unkindly on the situation, that was for sure.

“No,” she said, abruptly finding it hard not to smile at him. “Nobody will be coming by.”

No. There will be NO flirting.

“Ah,” was his only response.

“Yep,” she said with a firm nod. “Just me and my cat.”

Pierce nodded slowly. “You and your cat,” he repeated thoughtfully.

“Don’t take that tone with me!” Mila said, choking back laughter. “I am not some sort of crazy cat lady!”

“I don’t recall ever suggesting that you were,” Pierce said, holding up one hand palm-outward to protest his innocence.

“Your tone implied it,” she said, giving him a mock glare.

I thought I said no flirting.

He started it!

Well stop it.

Not impressed with her brain’s inner dialog, Mila decided to take the offensive.

“Ellie isn’t the most friendly of cats. At least, not with people other than me. She doesn’t understand why they don’t automatically bow and become her servants,” she joked.

Pierce laughed and nodded in understanding of the way that a cat’s perception of the universe seemed to differ from that of humans.

I thought you said you were going on the offensive?

Shut up, brain. Just shut up.

“But the odds are you stampeding around my house has scared her off anyway, so we probably won’t see her, even if she was feeling friendly.”

Pierce was looking around the basement, his gaze flicking here and there before returning to her.

“White cat, black markings on its face and paws?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” Mila said, eyes narrowing. “How did you…” she turned to see her cat come down the stairs.

It paused at the bottom and stretched, digging its front claws into the carpet as it pulled back against it. Then, as if it didn’t have a care in the world, Ellie stalked forward and slammed her body into Pierce.

Mila’s jaw dropped open as the cat sank to the ground, threading itself around the elbow he was using to prop himself up, and abruptly began to purr contentedly.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Ellie never does this. Ever.”

Pierce just smiled as he dragged one finger gently down the cat’s spine, prompting even louder purrs from the little creature.

“It’s an animal thing,” he told her with a wink.

Ellie, for her part, just lay there happily accepting the attention, her gaze fixed on Mila as if to say “What do you mean I’m not friendly? I’ll show you!”

“Unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head, though she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading.

There was something about the sight before her that stirred up emotions within Mila. Emotions she’d long since thought she might never feel. Despite her repeated inner protests not to, and the ridiculousness behind it all, she couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through her as she watched the two of them interact.

Finishing his drink in a long swig, Pierce—his attention now focused solely on the cat—lay down next to the tiny feline, curling one massive arm around it. Ellie promptly placed her two front paws on his forearm and curled up in the crook of his elbow and passed out.

Moments later Pierce laid his head on the ground and was breathing heavily as he fell into a deep sleep.

For longer than she knew was appropriate, Mila stayed and watched over the pair, wondering if she’d made the biggest, or best, mistake of her life.