Seduced by a Shifter (9 page)

“Whatever for?” Willow glanced back at Tess.

Tess rolled in her lips. “Well, to be blunt, he’s a crab. And a grouch. Barely says a word and when he does, it’s not anything nice.”

Willow’s eyes drifted back to the bench. The man hadn’t moved. “Don’t you think he’s lonely?”

Tess hesitated. “I think when the solitude gets too much he comes into town where he sits by himself and glowers at anyone who might dare come close. There are only a handful of people he will speak with.”

Interest piqued, Willow asked, “Like who?”

“Like my sister. And Dean, of course.”

“Why ‘Dean, of course’?”

“Uh.” The other woman appeared at a loss for words, which caused Willow to tilt her head in suspicious anticipation. “Yes?”

“Because,” Tess said hesitantly before a “duh” look displaced the panic in her eyes. “Because Dean’s the mayor, of course.”

Even though Tess said it with complete conviction, Willow knew it wasn’t the right answer, but decided to file it away along with all the other weird things she’d seen and heard since stepping foot in this town. Despite the friendliness of its natives, Willow had a feeling the inhabitants of Woodcliff were hiding something, which made Willow’s forced exile quite intriguing.

Of course, nothing in this place captured her attention like Ben did. Just the thought of him made her tingle in places she’d tried to cap a lid on for years. Squeezing her thighs together only made the sensation worse. She needed to move, to expel the restless warmth that started to crawl through her veins. The cool air would do perfectly.

Willow laid a hand on Tess’s arm before the woman could open her door. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to stay out here for a bit.”

Lines marred the smooth finish of Tess’s forehead. “Whatever for?”

Willow shrugged, not willing to tell the truth: that she was so pathetic in her crush that the mere
thought
of Ben made her hot and bothered. “I feel kinda warm, and while I don’t think I’m getting sick, if I am, I certainly don’t want to spread it around.”

In a quick move, Tess lifted one cool hand to Willow’s forehead and placed her other on her own brow. “You do feel warmer than me, but I run cooler than most so that’s not saying much.” Then she did something odd. She took a deep breath through her nose. The eyes on that million-dollar face widened in stunned shock and Tess yanked her hand back as if she’d been burned. Then her lips twitched, as if she was holding back from laughing.

Willow frowned at the strange reaction. “What is it?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thought of something else I have to do before the wedding, that’s all.”

Another wrong answer, but before Willow could comment on it, Joe stepped into her line of sight. “Are we eating again?” He raised his voice through the closed window.

Tess opened her door. “I need to pick something up for Caleb for dinner. You might want to check with Rome, see if he wants anything before you head back.”

“Might take the edge off his snarl factor.” Scott nodded his approval at Joe’s side, already dialing. “Especially if they have any of those apple pies.”

Leaving Tess and Scott to pick up food, Willow donned her coat and made her way across the street, Joe trailing several feet behind, his dark eyes flat as he scanned the area for any danger. She wanted to sigh in exasperation, but considering how high the stakes were, she
kept her mouth shut. It could be worse. She could be stuck in the cabin, day and night, slowly going out of her mind with boredom.

The old man looked up when she stopped, his eyes clear and steady on hers. He didn’t smile in welcome, nor did he snarl in disgust. He just watched her. Silent.

“May I sit?” Willow asked, all polite pleasantry.

A bushy white brow shot high and he cocked his head, as if studying a new species of insect pinned to a board. She refused to be intimidated and merely returned his look with an innocent expression. Sometimes the eyes she thought too big for her face came in handy.

An eternity later the man grunted. “You may.”

The bench might be free from snow, but the wood was hard as a rock and so cold she barely refrained from hopping back up when her butt hit it. She inched to the edge in an attempt to keep the minimum amount of cold from seeping into her jeans. “Tess told me you’re Henry Hawkins. My name is Willow.”

“I know who you are.”

“Oh.” The gruff tone was far from friendly—she had been warned, after all—but the words were a surprise. Did everyone in town know who she was and why she was here? How wierd.

Silence reigned and Willow struggled to think of something to say other than some lame comment on the weather. The overcast skies and dying sun only made it seem much colder than it was and despite the soft breeze that teased the short tendrils of her hair, it was actually nice out. Even so, she shoved her hands between her thighs, more to keep from fidgeting than for warmth.

Remaining quiet, she craned her neck to see Joe make his way to the window display of a hardware store. She wondered what had caught his attention when Henry spoke, his voice rough and broken, as if he didn’t use it much.

“I knew a dancer once. Beautiful, so frail looking, yet with a spine of steel. Graceful, every step she took. So easy on the eyes.”

Willow’s heart melted.
Maybe a love lost, and that was why he was alone?

Until his next comment caused her to sputter in protest. “You’re the same, but not graceful. Nope. You’re too stiff.”

Her back went ramrod straight. “I am too graceful.” At his unwavering look, her shoulders slumped just a little. “Well, I was once.”

Henry gave a sharp nod. “Will again.” Then he cackled, the course sound grating on Willow’s hears. “Willow. Will. Will again.”

Okaaay. Maybe it was time to leave.
Tess hadn’t said anything about the man’s elevator not reaching the top floor.

She was about to get off the bench and run for Joe when footsteps crunched in the snow behind her. From the way the little hairs on her body stood up in awareness and the flash of heat that churned low in her belly, Willow had a pretty good idea to whom those steps belonged. It was unnerving, the way her senses become increasingly acute when Ben was near.

A warm hand cupped her nape, the intimate touch sending tongues of fire to lick at her core. Though on the opposite side of the bench, his body, and his other hand which rested prominently on the top rail of the bench, filled her peripheral vision. The possessive act subtly yet firmly placed a barrier between her and Henry.

“Hey,” Ben said very softly.

She’d gone utterly still, all the better to absorb the feel of his skin on hers, the hold a stamp of ownership. She should rebel, shrug free, claim her independence.

Then again, maybe she was overreacting. It was just a simple touch.

“Hey, yourself.” Tilting her head up and to the side exposed her throat, and Ben took advantage, stroking the uneven pulse that picked up speed with every pass of his thumb. Liquid heat pooled in her belly under the caress and her nipples pebbled, as if begging for the same attention.

Okay. Maybe it wasn’t just a simple touch.

“You have a nice time in Togan?”

“I did, yes. How did you know?” Struggling to keep her suddenly heavy eyelids open, she took in his appearance. He had on an untucked button-up blue-on-white flannel that was partially open to reveal a dark blue shirt underneath. The material stretched over his shoulders yet fell loose at his abs. The fit of his jeans was a little loose as well and his hair was tousled, as if he’d repeatedly run a hand through it.

She
wanted to run her hands through the thick strands and down over the strong cords in his neck. Squeeze those broad shoulders and explore his muscled chest. Then follow it all up with her mouth. And tongue. Mmmmm. And teeth.

His eyes glinted with heat, as if knowing the erotic images that danced in her head, and was more than willing to be her play toy. Mentally shaking off the NC-17 display, she focused on his answer. “Went to see you after work. Rome told me where you were.”

Though not as pronounced as her mother’s famous tone, Willow nonetheless recognized the censor in his voice, and it made no sense. Could he possibly be upset she’d gone somewhere and not told him? And if so, what on Earth for? It wasn’t as if they were dating or anything.

Of course the fact he’d come to see her excited the pants off her. Or would have, if she didn’t currently need them on to keep the icy bench from freezing her butt solid. She did, however, cross her ankles and tuck them under the bench, pressing her legs together to combat against the rush of arousal.

“You could do worse.” This from Henry, who, instead of looking at Willow, frowned over at Tess as she came out of the cafe, a large plastic bag swinging in her hand. “‘Bout time.”

“Food’s not for you, Henry.” Tess said.

The lines on Henry’s forehead only deepened. “Not the food. The getting married.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Not right, all this living together before.”

Free hand on her hip, Tess glowered. “You really going there?”

From above Willow’s head, Ben, his amusement apparent, said, “What did you expect, Tess?”

“Back in my day,” Henry continued, “you stayed true.”

“What?” Tess gawked. “I’ve stayed true.” She turned to Willow in earnest. “I’ve never cheated on Caleb. Ever.”

Willow pressed her lips together, holding back a grin as Ben chuckled. “Don’t think that’s what he meant.” His hand at her neck squeezed gently, as if letting her in on the joke.

“Well. What did you mean?” Tess narrowed her eyes on Henry.

“You waited ‘till marriage.”

The plastic bag bumped Tess’s hip as she crossed her arms. “Really? You’ve never been married, have you, Henry? Don’t suppose you’re a virgin.”

Willow’s gasp at the blunt comment was drowned out by Ben’s muffled snort.

“No? Guess you subscribe to the double-standard lifestyle then, huh?”

Henry scowled up at Ben, who was clearly having difficulty holding back his laughter. “Don’t know what you find so funny, boy. Wouldn’t you like your mate to be untouched?”

Ben choked at the question and Willow froze, suddenly finding the far horizon the most important thing in her life. She didn’t think her heart was even beating, as it was now in her throat as she waited for his response.

“I’d simply be thrilled to find her.” Ben’s soft response mirrored the gentle kneading of her neck. Too chicken to see what might be reflected in his face, she laid a hand on her knee, rubbing at the ache that wasn’t really there, but in her chest.

Henry harrumphed, muttering, “And the man always took care of his woman.”

“Caleb takes care of me.”

“Not you. Always think it’s about you.”

Toss closed her eyes and gave a small shake of her head. “I give up.”

“Sore joints need heat.” Henry nodded at Willow’s flexing fingers.

A soft curse from Ben. “I was getting there, old man. I was going to ask Will if she wanted to go to the pool.”

At that Willow perked up, and looked up. “You have a pool?”

Her eyes dropped to Ben’s mouth when he smiled. It was a damn fine mouth. “Not me personally, but there is one at the school. I thought you might like to go tomorrow evening.”

“Oh.” Her nose wrinkled.
And wade through a bunch of kids?

“They close it at six on Mondays and Thursdays for cleaning, but I can ask them to hold off for an hour or so. No one will be around if you don’t want them to be.”

She would love to go swimming. For her, it was akin to the joy of dancing she once felt. And her body, not as agile as it used to be, once again found the grace to move with weightless effort.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Willow breathed, unable to keep the wistfulness out of her voice. “I would love it.”

Ben’s eyes darkened with intensity and heat slashed through her, quick and sharp. Sheer unadulterated need floored her whenever his eyes lit on hers. It was crazy, it should have been impossible, but it simply was, and this time she couldn’t shake it off. It took Tess’s teasing comment to pull her from the brink and fist the hand she’d lifted to touch Ben’s mouth onto her thigh.

“Whew. I think you two melted the snow in a ten-foot radius.”

Willow whipped her head around, avoiding Tess’s amused eyes as her cheeks flushed, and missed most of her next words.

“—have to get Caleb his dinner and Scott’s busy flirting with Barb.”

“I’ll take Willow back. I have to stop at Victory anyway.” Ben said.

Willow didn’t respond, too busy fighting another kind of heat. The kind that caused all her female parts to jump with joy. She was going to be alone with Ben, which meant maybe, just maybe, she might get another chance to have his lips on her.

Hoping to disguise her shiver of anticipation, Willow turned to Henry. “If I don’t see you again, it was nice meeting you, Henry.”

The old man grunted. “Ain’t going anywhere.”

Patience was definitely a requirement when speaking with Henry. “But I am.”

“Maybe will, maybe won’t,” he said cryptically before he cackled again. “Willow. Will again, maybe will.”

Yep. Some marbles were most certainly missing from his bag.

As she stood, Henry unexpectedly, and with incredible speed for such an old, frail-looking man, gripped her hand. Shrewd eyes, all-knowing eyes, bored into her surprised ones. “Your name is Willow for a reason. Don’t succumb to foolish thoughts. Your will is strong, your heart stronger still. Listen to it.”

Flummoxed, Willow stuttered. “Ah. Okay.”

Only then did Henry drop her hand. “Begone. All of you. Done with the lot.”

Ben moved around the bench and put a hand to Willow’s back. His smile didn’t reach his eyes; they were too full of speculation. “Come on.”

Tess was shaking her head as they moved back to the cafe parking lot. “See what I mean? He’s a weird one.”

And maybe a whole lot smarter than most people believed. But Willow kept her thoughts to herself as she retrieved her purse and followed Ben back across the open area to his truck in the parking lot of the hardware store. Henry had disappeared—fast bugger—as did Joe, who meandered inside the cafe to wait for both Rome’s dinner and for Scott to finish flirting with the town’s pretty postal clerk.

Opening the truck door, Ben helped boost Willow inside before rounding the front to slide in behind the wheel. He cranked the engine and the heat. Willow noticed there wasn’t a coat for him in sight, but sitting so close she could feel the heat of his body warming the air. The man was a furnace, and no doubt a delight to snuggle up with on a cold winter night.

Don’t go there
. Willow wet her dry lips.
Do. Not. Go. There.
“Thanks for taking me back.” Her voice was a little raspy. From being out in the cold. For sure.

He flashed her that grin, the one so charming and sexy it could melt a woman’s panties at twenty paces. “My pleasure.”

Unnerved, she stared out the window as they left the commercial loop and headed out onto the main street. “So where and what’s this place you said you needed to stop at?”

Ben pointed a thumb over his shoulder and she looked into the truck bed to see a ladder. “Promised to deliver this to Rose today after work since she doesn’t have a truck.”

Her jaw tightened, as did her gut.
And just who the hell was Rose?

Almost immediately after the inner snarl she grimaced. She really needed to curb the wild jealousy that flared up whenever Ben mentioned another woman’s name. It was unhealthy, not to mention completely inappropriate.

So sweet her teeth ached with it, she asked “Rose?”

“She heads a section of the Mosaic Group at Victory and needs it for a set.”

None of that meant a darn thing to Willow. “And that means?”

His phone rang, but instead of answering it, he ignored it, in favor of answering Willow’s question. “Sorry. Victory is a church and the Mosaic Group is the name of the creative arts ministry.” Those eyes sparkled when he turned them on her for a brief moment. “I think you’ll like her. She’s a dancer, not by profession, but by love.”

“A dancer? Creative arts ministry?”

Ben nodded. “I know it sounds strange, but there you go.”

At the next light he turned right, and then left, down a short road adjacent to a large building. There was nothing overly spectacular about it, except for the lack of windows. “This is the church?”

Ben chuckled. “It’s nondenominational and that particular building is the sanctuary.”

At her quizzical look he explained. “The sanctuary is where they hold the service and worship. What you’re seeing is the back and side of the main building. The front actually faces the courtyard.”

He moved through a large parking lot and stopped near twin sets of glass double doors. Even now Willow would never have guessed the building was a church.

“Oh.” She was a little disappointed.

Another deep chuckle. “I tell Jackie, Zan’s wife whom you met last night at Tess’s shower, that the building needs some pizzaz. But she says it’s not how the outside looks that’s important. It’s what makes up the inside.”

Willow made a noncommittal response as she scanned several other smaller buildings. “You go?”