The Sea Wolf's Mate Read online

“No!”

  “It took me the best part of five years.” He led her through to the main workshop. The air was filled with the scents of wood dust and oil. Arlo breathed in deep. It smelled of long days of hard work.

  Jacqueline grimaced. “I just spent the best part of five years… never mind. Is this for the boat?”

  She walked over to Arlo’s bench and, when he gestured it was okay, picked up a wooden frame.

  “How did you guess?” How did she guess?

  “It’s the same size as the broken window above—” Her cheeks went pink. “Above, um, the bed.”

  “I’m trying to decide what to put in it.” Arlo tried to keep the growl out of his voice, but his wolf was very interested by the way Jacqueline was blushing. “Plain glass, or…”

  He stood next to her in front of the desk. She was so close he could smell her feminine scent under the wood, oil and smoke of the workshop.

  Before the crowbar headache had hit him, he’d planned to spend the down-time after the house build working on a leadlight for the boat’s bedroom window.

  “I’ve been collecting these pieces of colored glass for a while,” he said, sorting through a cardboard box of offcuts. “Watched a few videos online about how to do it. We’ve got all the tools here, I just need to decide what to make.”

  “You just watched a few videos and you can jump straight into making something?” Jacqueline sounded amazed. “You’re not worried you’ll ruin it?”

  “If it goes wrong, I can always have another go. There’s enough glass in here for a couple of bad tries.”

  “But what if…” Jacqueline twisted her hands together. “What if it goes wrong every time? Or there’s one… design… that you really want to work, but it doesn’t, and you can’t try it again? Or… or maybe it’s the first time you’re having a go at it in a long, long time, and you don’t want to mess it up?” Her cheeks blazed.

  Arlo gazed at her, lost for words. He’d always been extra sensitive to other shifters’ psychic signatures. He could feel emotions before he could see them, most of the time. Maybe that was why the kids had given him such a headache.

  He’d never been good with humans, because he didn’t have that cheat-sheet emotional background when he was talking with them.

  But even an idiot like him could tell Jacqueline probably wasn’t talking about stained glass windows anymore.

  “It can be scary, trying something you haven’t done in a long time… or ever,” Arlo said carefully. “But I know that if something’s meant to work out, it will.” He paused. “And… I’m good with my hands.”

  Jacqueline blushed even harder. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. They were bright hazel, like intricately patterned heartwood, and the longer she kept his gaze, the warmer and more intense they became.

  Something you haven’t done ever. The words shivered down his back.

  Arlo licked his lips. “Jacqueline,” he said, her name like a prayer, “there’s something I should tell you. Something about shifters.”

  “What is it?” Jacqueline’s eyes filled his vision.

  “I…”

  “Aargh!” A heartfelt groan split the air.

  Arlo jumped in front of Jacqueline. “Who—damn it, Pol!”

  Pol was slumped in the door. He didn’t even look up as Arlo swore at him. He was holding a battery in one hand and a lightbulb in the other, connected by wires.

  “How does it work?” he groaned, hopelessly banging the two together. “It makes no sense!”

  “Oh God,” Jacqueline breathed from behind Arlo. “That’s your friend with the electric powers. Did I break him?”

  Arlo looked over his shoulder. Jacqueline looked stricken, but when she met his eyes, she stuffed her hand into her mouth to stop herself laughing out loud.

  “Pol, read a book,” Arlo told Pol as the dragon shifter slid down the doorframe in despair. “Jacqueline, I had a thought. Want to take the scenic route to the restaurant?”

  This is safer than parading her in front of all my parents’ neighbors, Arlo thought as they climbed the hill behind the workshop.

  “This is like a goat path,” Jacqueline said, panting slightly. “Or a…” She glanced at him and bit her lower lip.

  “Wolf path?” Arlo suggested. He grinned. “If the weather’s too bad for sailing, I’ll come up here. Watching the water is almost as good as being on it.”

  Jacqueline put her hands on her hips and gazed out over the bay. The sea breeze tugged at her curls. “You come up here when the weather’s bad?”

  Arlo sighed. “Pol calls it my sulking perch.”

  Jacqueline laughed. “No!” Her grin turned wicked. “There’s no way you could perch up here when it’s windy. You’d need to cling on…”

  “To this shrub,” Arlo agreed, pointing at a nearby tree, twisted by the elements.

  Jacqueline laughed again and the wind teased a hank of hair over her face. She pushed it back, giggling. “I guess this is the next best thing to being out on the water. It must be amazing, watching a storm from up here.”

  “That it is.” He sat down and she settled in next to him, close enough that their arms brushed together and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to take her hand. “I don’t know why it is, but the sea always makes me feel at home. Tess says I should have been a fish shifter.”

  “Or a seal?”

  Something jolted in Arlo’s heart. “Or a seal,” he repeated, slowly.

  “I can’t believe that Hideaway Cove exists, that you all live here openly as shifters, and none of us knew anything about it.” Jacqueline gazed out over the water.

  “Except about the curse?” Arlo joked, and was rewarded with an embarrassed smile.

  “Except the curse, yeah.” She sighed. “I’ve lived in Dunston all my life. I knew there was a whole big wonderful world out there, I just didn’t know how wonderful. Or how close it was. I’ve spent all my life around people who know exactly who I am and what my story is, and all along…”

  She hesitated. Arlo stayed silent, unable to take his eyes off her as the smile faded from her face.

  “You must have all sorts of strategies in place to keep the fact that you’re shifters secret from visitors, I’m sure. But when I think I could have driven a few hours out of town and been in a place where no one knew my husband left me five years ago, and no one’s gonna corner me in the grocery store and tell me how his kid’s in second grade now… I’m sure you all would have done your best to drive me out of town, but even that would have been a step up.”

  Arlo put one arm around her and she leaned into him.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “You brought me up here for a romantic walk and here I am, grouching about my ex.”

  “It’s the sea.” Jacqueline stared at him, eyebrows furrowed, and he gestured out over the water. “That’s why I come up here. And why I go out on the water. I know that whatever bad thing I’m feeling, the sea will pull it out of me.”

  Jacqueline took another deep breath, and under Arlo’s arm, her shoulders relaxed.

  “I think it’s working,” she said quietly. “I do feel better. Better than I have in a long time.”

  Arlo wasn’t good at picking expressions, but even he could hear the weight behind her words. He frowned.

  “You broke up with your husband five years ago, but he has a kid in second grade?”

  Jacqueline groaned. “Damn it. I hoped you wouldn’t pick that up.”

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Jacqueline let her head rest against his shoulder. “That’s why we split. This other woman, she gave him what he’d always wanted, which I… anyway. He got what he wanted, and I got the house, which I’ve just paid off. Next stop, Vegas!”

  There was a hard edge to her voice, despite her toothy smile.

  “Well I’m glad you’ve stopped by Hideaway Cove on your way to Vegas,” Arlo said, his voice gravelly. Jacqueline’s eyes flicked up to his.


  “Me, too,” she said. “Though I think I’ve had enough sea therapy for one night.”

  “In that case,” Arlo said, helping her up, “I think it’s time we had that drink.”

  He showed her the back route to Caro’s restaurant, picking their way through low shrub along a path that existed mainly in the mental maps each citizen of Hideaway had of the land around their town.

  He pointed out the ridge where Jools and Jess had dared each other into leaping from to learn to fly, the small cave where local kids invariably ended up when they were skiving off from the town’s correspondence school classes, and the wild herbs Tess had used for her experimental ice cream flavors before she graduated to seaweed. All the small and secret places that hinted at the heart of the small town he called home.

  By the time they clambered around to the path that led down to Caro’s, Jacqueline’s cheeks were red with exertion. Arlo took her hand to steady her as she jumped across a muddy creek. Her hand’s warmth, and the way she puffed slightly as she blew a stray curl out of her eyes, made him want to smack himself. He cursed underneath his breath.

  “Sorry,” he said when Jacqueline raised her eyebrows at him. Even he could tell that was a questioning look. He hunched his shoulders. “It’s just struck me that this might not have been what you meant when you said you wanted a tour of the town.”

  “What?” Jacqueline blew her hair out of her face again. “Are you kidding? The sea therapy I could probably have done without, but this? I haven’t done anything like this since I was a kid.”

  She frowned as her hair bounced over her face again, and let go of his hand to grab it and braid it into a long rope.

  “Which must be obvious, since I’ve apparently forgotten what the wind is like this close to the water,” she added, sticking the end of the braid under her collar. “I hope this restaurant isn’t too fancy. I bet I look like a mess.”

  Arlo swallowed. With her hair pulled back, Jacqueline’s eyes seemed bigger and more full of light than ever.

  “You’re fine,” he said gruffly. “Caro’s isn’t a shirt and shoes place. People eat there straight after coming off boats, or work sites, so you’ll—I mean, shit, not that you look like you’ve—you look lovely. You…”

  Tell her. The words thudded in his bones. Look how she already seems to belong here. The wind in her hair and light in her eyes. She’s the piece of your heart that’s been missing all these years. Tell her you’re hers, tell her she’s part of your pack—

  Take her to meet Ma and Pa. Arlo’s mind tripped over itself.

  “…You’re beautiful,” he said instead, and the dazed delight in Jacqueline’s eyes almost made his cowardice worth it.

  “Well.” Jacqueline folded her lips over a smile that looked like it was threatening to take over her whole face. “You know, you’re not bad yourself.” Her cheeks blazed as she tucked her arm into his.

  It can’t be this easy, Arlo thought as she smiled up at him. And yet…

  Maybe it could be. A shifter’s mate was meant to be the other half of their soul; why was he surprised that Jacqueline was slipping so easily and wonderfully into his life?

  She doesn’t know what she is to me, but she’s taking a chance on me anyway. Arlo swallowed. After almost drowning, babysitting three frightened shifter kids, and having to put up with me grumbling and growling all the time. Sure, she’s taking a chance on me now, for one date, but I need to do better than this before I tell her.

  The path took them to the back of Caro’s restaurant; Arlo led Jacqueline around piles of neatly stacked pallets and other delivery detritus, silently cursing himself for not thinking this plan through properly.

  “Are you sure it’s okay for us to be back here?” Jacqueline asked, picking her way around a stack of insulated buckets. Arlo recognized them from the Menzies’ fishing boat.

  “Sure,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. Great job, he snarled to himself. Sneaking around the back with all the trash. Are you trying to put her off?

  His stomach twisted, but before he could berate himself any more, a door swung open in front of them.

  “—out of the oven, and the chocs from Tess’s are—what’s this?”

  Caro loomed in the door. She was in her late forties, with short-cropped brown hair and a deep scar running along one cheek. In Arlo’s eyes she was the backbone of the Hideaway community. Forget Harrison and his mayor’s chain, and the Sweets with their bridge-and-gossip group picking over the latest news: there wasn’t a person in Hideaway who hadn’t eaten to bursting in her restaurant, and dozed off their delicious gluttony in front of her blazing fireplace.

  “Oh!” Jacqueline’s hand flew over her mouth. “I’m sorry, we were just—we were, um—” She dissolved into giggles. “Oh, God, this is just like sneaking around as a teenager. I swear, if someone threatens to call my Mom…”

  “It’s me,” Arlo called, putting one hand on Jacqueline’s shoulder as he sent Caro a jumbled telepathic explanation: *This is Jacqueline—human—visiting from the next town over—shifter kids—pack—dinner?*

  She frowned at him, which was no surprise given the pack of nonsense he’d just vomited at her, then shook her head. “I’m Caro,” she said, holding out a floury hand. “Nice to meet you…”

  “Jacqueline.” Jacqueline shook Caro’s hand, either not noticing or not caring that it was covered in flour.

  Caro’s eyes flicked to Arlo’s. *She’s human?*

  *She’s…*

  *Ah.* Caro’s jaw set and then she shrugged. *Figures.*

  Arlo’s stomach stopped twisting. If Caro was happy to welcome in a human with no connection to Hideaway Cove, then maybe…

  Caro jerked her head over her shoulder. “Come on in.” She snaked a grin at Arlo that made her scar pull. “Your usual spot’s free, but I’m guessing you might be after a table tonight?”

  *Damn it, Caro,* Arlo growled. *I’m trying to…*

  His telepathic voice faded away. What was he trying to do? Put his best foot forward? Prove to Jacqueline there was more to him than just growliness and terrible ideas?

  What if there wasn’t?

  Caro’s expression softened. *You worry too much, sea dog.* “Through here,” she said out loud, pointing to the door at the other end of the kitchen. “Take any table you like.”

  *You say that like there’s nothing to worry about,* Arlo grumbled, and Caro snorted.

  *You’re taking her to dinner. Believe me, the way things work around here, that’s better than a good start. It’s more than—*

  Her voice cut off suddenly and she grabbed a passing kitchen hand. “Guts, what the hell’re you doing with those desserts? They’re—they’re melting already!”

  Guts looked bewildered as Caro snatched the tray off him and marched off. *What? But those were…* He caught Arlo’s eye. *Dumplings. Not desserts…*

  Arlo had never seen Caro so off-kilter. *Everything all right?* he sent across the room to her.

  She didn’t look back. *Enjoy your date with your lady friend, sea dog.*

  Arlo’s eyebrows drew together as he held the door for Jacqueline. That didn’t sound convincing. I’ll ask Tess to talk to her.

  The restaurant wasn’t busy, this early in the evening. A few locals were nursing beers or coffees at the shared main table, and a ginger cat was lying stretched out on one of the windowsills. Arlo nodded to him and got a sharp-toothed yawn in reply.

  “Is that…?” Jacqueline whispered.

  “Tom Hanson. He’s been lying there since before I left on the boat, days ago.”

  Tom’s mouth snapped shut. *I’m on bed rest!* he replied, indignant but not so much that he moved any other muscles. *Doctor’s orders.*

  “He’s Marjorie Hanson’s grandson, here on break from college,” Arlo explained. “Plenty of shifters come here for vacations, just to spend some time in their animal form without worrying about getting caught shifting.”

  “Oh.” Jacqueline’s mouth tightened. “I h
ope no one’s worried about me being here. I don’t want to make anyone feel as though they’re not safe.”

  “Don’t worry,” one of the men at the beer-and-coffee table, Carlos, called over. Carlos was the father of the three dolphin shifters Arlo had pointed out to Jacqueline earlier. He was sitting with another local, Dave Oxley.

  Arlo relaxed. Carlos was—he hesitated to say “one of the good ones”, but he had only moved to Hideaway with his kids a decade or so back. He wasn’t one of the old guard like Ma and Pa.

  “Harrison already sent around the message,” Carlos explained. He raised one hand and counted off his fingers, slightly slowly, as though he was hunting for each number through the bottom of his glass. “One. Lady from Dunston. Two. Came along with those three seal kids. Three…”

  “Three, be nice,” Dave said, thwacking him gently on the back of the head. “Though that last one was from Harrison’s girl.” He gave Jacqueline a friendly nod. “They seem like good kids. Be good to have someone who can give your lot a run for their money, eh, Carlos?”

  “Pff. Ain’t no one can beat my Ana.” Carlos Ramirez raised his glass to Jacqueline. “Welcome to Hideaway, miss. And damn, Arlo! Can’t wait for the Sweets to hear about this. Tell me you’re going to sell tickets to—”

  “That’s enough of that.” Caro swept in from the kitchen, armed with a picnic basket brimming with Tupperware containers. “Here’s your order, Carlos. You’d better get it home before your kids start eating the furniture.”

  Dave gulped the rest of his coffee and bundled the basket under one arm. “I’ll look after him, Caro,” he said, and cuffed Carlos to his feet. “Come on, man, don’t let your kids see you like this.”

  “It was one beer…” Carlos complained, and blinked. “Half of one beer.”

  “Yeah, and you’ve got the tolerance of an underweight bee,” Dave grumbled good-naturedly, slinging Carlos’ arm over his shoulder. “Come on…”

  Beside Arlo, Jacqueline stiffened. He put one arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, it’s just… that’s something my ex used to say.” Jacqueline shook herself. “Not in the same context, though. I’m sure if I’d gotten myself shamefully tipsy on half a glass of beer he’d have…”