A Griffin for Christmas Read online

  There was the faintest hint of color in his cheeks, and his golden eyes were open wide.

  Don’t tell me he feels it too, Emilia thought as she tried to focus on the road, forcing herself to stare straight ahead. Could he really... am I really...

  It didn’t seem possible that the flame of attraction she had felt could be anything other than her imagination.

  And yet...

  “We’re – we’re here!” Emilia managed to stutter as she pulled into the diner parking lot.

  Rowan seemed to shake himself, blinking and pulling his eyes away from her face with what seemed like reluctance.

  The Fairhill Snack House was decked out in all its Christmas finery, just as Emilia had known it would be – lights seemed to drip from every corner, dazzlingly bright. Twinkling candy canes stood to attention by the doorway, while a massive glowing wreath hung on the door itself. A light-up sign reading MERRY CHRISTMAS! was hung in the front window, while a statuette of Santa stood by the front door holding a long, unfurling list, presumably checking it twice for who’d been naughty and who’d been nice.

  “Jonathan and Anthony have really outdone themselves this year,” Emilia said, looking over the display grimly. At Rowan’s slightly quizzical look, she shook her head before clarifying. “They own and run the diner. I suppose you could say there’s a bit of an unofficial competition between the local businesses for who can put on the biggest Christmas display. Seems like they’ve really gone all-out this year.”

  Rowan turned to her, grinning. “And you’re not even slightly touched by the spirit of Christmas just by looking at it?”

  “Nope!” Emilia made a face. “Look, you’ll never convince me to abandon my Grinch-y ways, so don’t even try!”

  Shaking his head, Rowan smiled. “All right. But I’ve never seen so much Christmas spirit up close. So you’ll have to excuse me if I take a few moments to bask.”

  Emilia opened her mouth to ask if Christmas hadn’t been such a big deal where he’d grown up, but, recalling what he’d told her about his childhood, quickly closed it again.

  Of course it wasn’t, she thought to herself, feeling a little abashed. I guess towns under the thumb of outlaws don’t tend to be very merry at any time of year.

  She thought she must seem pretty ungrateful to Rowan – Fairhill was so peaceful she couldn’t remember the last time they’d had any kind of trouble here. There’d been the time Mrs. Showalter had had too much punch at one of her book club luncheons and hurled her copy of Fifty Shades at Mrs. Lowry, but those kinds of exciting scandals were few and far between.

  “You can bask all you want,” she said, as she opened the car door. “Don’t let me being a sourpuss stop you. Come on. Let’s go in and you can make your phone call, and we can order up some food.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Rowan said.

  Inside, the Fairhill Snack House was just as decked out as the outside – even more so, if that was possible. Glass baubles were strung from the ceiling, while holly wreaths hung from the sides of the booths. The counter was covered in tiny Christmas ornaments: everything from Santa surrounded by elves and presents, to a full nativity set, complete with sheep, cows, donkeys... and, for some reason, a penguin.

  The diner itself was empty of customers, though Emilia supposed that made sense considering the storm that had just passed overhead. The only reason she’d known the Snack House would even be open was because Anthony and Jonathan insisted on it keeping its hours, rain, hail or shine. They lived above it, so it was no trouble for them to open.

  Plus, Emilia thought, that’s the benefit of being tech millionaires who decided to leave the city behind and open a small-town diner. Turning a profit is secondary.

  “Emilia! What’re you doing out in this weather?”

  Emilia smiled at the sound of Anthony’s voice as he appeared behind the counter. She couldn’t help but laugh – it was always good to see him and his husband, no matter what else was going on.

  “I could ask why you’re open in this weather, but you’d probably tell me to mind my own business,” she said, grinning.

  “Touché,” Anthony replied, smiling. He cocked his head as he noticed Rowan by her side, and she noticed the spark of appreciation in his eyes as he took him in. “You must be new in town,” he said, reaching out a hand. “Anthony James. Welcome.”

  “Rowan Stanton,” Rowan replied warmly as he took Anthony’s hand. “And yes, you could say that. I’m afraid I just... dropped in on Emilia, and she’s been helping me out.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” Anthony said breezily as Emilia frowned at him furiously, hoping he could hear her telepathic message of Shut up! Shut up!! Shut up!!!

  If he could, he ignored it.

  “Emilia’s always been the helpful type,” Anthony continued. “She can’t help herself. It’s one of her most endearing qualities. Not that she has any shortage of those.” He turned to call over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Jonathan?”

  “What’s that?” Jonathan emerged from the kitchen, cloth in hand as he dried a saucepan. “Oh, hey Emilia. What’s up?”

  A head taller than Anthony and somewhat more heavily built, Jonathan was the diner’s chef while Anthony manned the register, did the books and chatted with customers. It was an arrangement that suited them both, Emilia had found out when she’d been chatting to Anthony one day after work. Jonathan might have been a software developer by trade, but his passion was cooking, while Anthony had a good head for numbers and astute business sense. It had made them very rich when they’d been running tech start ups, and now, in their thirties, they had retired to the quiet life in Fairhill.

  “I was just saying how fantastic Emilia is,” Anthony said. “Right, honey?”

  “Sure, she’s great,” Jonathan said, his tone perplexed. “But I don’t –”

  “Can Rowan use your phone?” Emilia managed to squeak out, before Jonathan could get any further. “Cell phone signal’s really bad, and –”

  “Sure he can,” Anthony said. He gestured with his head toward the far end of the diner. “It’s just in the corner at the back there. In the meantime, can I get you anything to eat?”

  “You order for me.” Rowan turned to her with a small smile. “I should get this over and done with, and I trust you to know what’s good.”

  “Anything I should stay away from?” Emilia asked. Her stomach was still in a knot and she was none too pleased at Anthony, but the fact that Rowan seemed entirely unfazed made her feel at least a tiny bit less self-conscious.

  “No, I’ll eat just about anything,” Rowan said, and then frowned. “Maybe no raisins? Otherwise, anything’s fine with me.”

  “Sure,” Emilia said, before Rowan turned and made his way to the back of the diner. It was a moment before Emilia realized she was staring at him as he went, her eyes firmly glued to his muscular backside.

  Flushing to the roots of her hair, she could barely bring herself to face Anthony and Jonathan. She knew exactly what their faces would be like – and when she finally managed to force herself to look at them, she was exactly right: Anthony’s expression was knowing, and Jonathan’s quizzical.

  “What?!” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you looking at?”

  Anthony only shook his head. “Don’t play innocent with me, Emilia Maria Lopez Garcia. Come here and sit down and tell me all about it.”

  Emilia shook her head and sighed, wishing that somehow, Anthony hadn’t ever found out her full name. It reminded her too much of her grandmother – she’d been the only person who’d ever called her by it, and only then when she was in trouble as a kid. There was still something compelling about it, and she was powerless to stop herself from dragging her feet over to the counter, before sitting down at one of the barstools that lined it.

  “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” she protested, as soon as she was seated. “He’s a cop, and he’s in town for work. He, uh, he got lost, so I drove him in
to town.” She didn’t think Anthony and Jonathan needed to hear about him appearing in her shed, since she didn’t even really know if she believed it, despite the fact she’d seen it with her own two eyes. “That’s it. I promise. After he’s made his call he’ll probably go find somewhere to stay in town, and then he’ll be gone.”

  She could hear the wistfulness in her own voice as she spoke, and realized how obvious it would be to both Anthony and Jonathan.

  Looking up, she expected to see them looking at her with sympathy, but instead, she found them both frowning at her, arms crossed over their chests like twin statues of disapproval.

  “Emilia, I’ve known you for five years now,” Anthony said, his voice gentler than she expected it to be from his expression. “I knew you when you were going out with that Todd idiot –”

  “His name was Tom, and you know it,” Emilia protested, only to have Anthony keep going as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “That idiot Whatever-His-Name-Was, and believe me, I know how hurt you were after what he did. But you can’t let that hold you back now.”

  Emilia bit her lip. “I know, but –”

  “But nothing.” Uncharacteristically, it was Jonathan who spoke up next. Usually, he was the quiet one of the two, and let Anthony do the talking for both of them. “Emilia, I saw the way he looked at you just now. That was the look of a smitten man. I think I know it when I see it.”

  “A man besmit,” Anthony agreed. “Have you at least given him your number and let him know you’re interested?”

  “I don’t know,” Emilia sighed. “It’s just that...”

  It’s just that I’ve never felt such an instant connection with anyone before in my life. It’s just that I sometimes feel like I’m drowning in his eyes. It’s just that sometimes when I look at him I forget to breathe because I want him so much.

  She shook her head.

  Okay, so maybe Anthony and Jonathan were right, and she would be crazy to let this pass her by.

  Maybe, in the short time she’d known him, she and Rowan really had connected like nothing she’d ever known before.

  And maybe, just maybe, Rowan felt their spark the same way she did.

  “All right,” she said, glancing over to where Rowan was leaning against the back wall of the diner, phone to his ear. “All right. I’ll get his number.”

  “You sure will,” Anthony said enthusiastically, grinning at her. “And now, what was this I heard about you guys ordering some food?”

  Chapter Four

  Rowan

  Hardwicke picked up the phone on the first ring.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Hardwicke. It’s me.”

  “Rowan.”

  Despite the terseness in his boss’s tone, Rowan thought he could also detect just the slightest hint of relief.

  “Where’ve you been? You were supposed to check in two hours ago.”

  Well, so much for that.

  “Sorry about that,” Rowan said, grimacing a little. “I got caught in a storm. Signal’s not much out here. I had to find another phone to call from.”

  It’d probably be better for him to elide some of the more... colorful aspects of his situation for now, Rowan decided. Like how he’d crashed through a perfectly unsuspecting woman’s shed roof. And how that perfectly unsuspecting woman had then turned out to be his mate.

  To be honest, he wasn’t even sure how he’d go about explaining it – any of it, really, but most especially that last one. He wasn’t sure he had the words.

  He wasn’t used to listening to his heart: his life had always been about his job – about doing his duty. He had never given much thought to finding his mate, though naturally, like all shifters, the desire to find her had always been there in the back of his mind.

  It was just that, with his job and with all the darkness he had seen while doing it, he had never quite believed he’d be able to set it aside and live a quiet, happy, normal life.

  Mates had never seemed to be for someone like him: someone who had to risk their life so frequently in the line of duty, who so rarely got to see the beauty that life had to offer.

  His griffin had known who Emilia was from the first moment it had seen her, he realized now. That’s what it had – in its own enigmatic, infuriating way – been trying to tell him, with all its hints and sly suggestions. But it had taken his human side a while to catch up. Somewhere in his soul, he’d already known that Emilia was special – he just hadn’t realized how special until their fingers had touched, and then he’d known.

  Of course, his griffin had nagged him about finding his mate occasionally, but he’d become adept at ignoring it.

  This, however, could not be ignored. His griffin had been basically crawling up the walls ever since his fingers had brushed against Emilia’s back at her place – not to mention the moment in the car when they had almost kissed.

  Rowan felt warmth gathering in his belly at the memory of it. They had been so close... just another few inches, and then they would have...

  “Rowan? Hello?”

  The sound of Hardwicke’s voice brought him back down to earth with a jolt.

  “Sorry. I’m here. What was that?”

  The irritation in Hardwicke’s sigh was palpable, even over the crackling phone line. “I was asking you if you’d made it to Fairhill yet.”

  “Yes. I’m here.” Rowan glanced across the diner to where Emilia seemed deep in conversation with her friends.

  “Good. Well, you might as well stay put – we’ve had another possible sighting of Watts, this time in North Carolina.”

  Rowan frowned. “That’s almost a thousand miles from here.”

  “Yes. It is.” Hardwicke paused. “I’ve sent Jerra Boston down to check it out.”

  Rowan swallowed. He knew what he should feel: he should feel like it was his duty to leave Fairhill right now and head south to investigate. But instead, he could only feel relief.

  He’d be able to stay in Fairhill a while longer, it seemed.

  We’ll be able to stay near Emilia, his griffin piped up, unnecessarily.

  Yes, I’d thought of that, Rowan told it. Thanks.

  The griffin swished its tail placidly, utterly unperturbed. The news that it could stay here with Emilia had apparently calmed it considerably.

  “I want you to stay where you are for now,” Hardwicke said. “Keep your ear to the ground there. Let me know as soon as you’ve confirmed things one way or another.”

  “Got it,” Rowan said, nodding.

  “But for God’s sake, be careful,” Hardwicke said. “You see him, you call it in, you hear me?”

  “I will, Hardwicke.” Rowan had never meant the words more sincerely than he did now. In the past, he’d fully deserved his reputation for charging in without thinking. He’d sometimes been reckless in the pursuit of criminals, rushing in alone when he should have waited for backup.

  But now I have a reason to be careful, Rowan thought, glancing back at Emilia once again. Now I have something more than my work.

  If only he could figure out a way to tell her.

  He didn’t imagine it’d be easy: most shifters kept their abilities a closely guarded secret. Rowan had no reason to believe Emilia knew of their existence. And no reason to think she’d believe him if he told her.

  She will believe us, his griffin growled. We are her mate. She knows we would never lie to her.

  Rowan supposed he could always shift in front of her – but he wouldn’t want to do that without warning. His griffin could be a frightening sight to someone who wasn’t expecting it.

  Or even if they were.

  “All right, Rowan.” Hardwicke, for once, sounded reassured. “Wait for a break in the weather, then carry on. Looking at the forecast, it seems like there’s more storms on the way. If Watts is there, he won’t be able to move until they’ve lifted. So be patient.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” Hardwicke laughed suddenly, catching Rowan off g
uard. Hardwicke laughed so rarely that it was a strange sound to hear. “Use it as an excuse to take it easy for a day or so.”

  “Well, I’ll try,” Rowan promised. Though he suspected trying to find a way to explain to Emilia that shifters existed and that he was her fated mate was not anyone’s definition of taking it easy.

  Give me big bad shifter criminals any day, Rowan thought as he and Hardwicke said their goodbyes. At least I know how to deal with them.

  But Emilia? His soulmate? The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life?

  Don’t be so silly. His griffin rose up inside him, scolding. She’s our mate! She knows it in her soul. She may not understand why yet, but she can feel it too. You know she does. You should simply tell her.

  Maybe so, Rowan thought as he hung up the phone and headed back to where Emilia was settling into a booth, Anthony placing two enormous burgers down on the table in front of her, a basket of fries between them. But you don’t have the job of explaining it.

  “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” Emilia said, smiling as he sat down across from her. “But you can never go wrong with burgers, right?”

  Rowan had to laugh. “Gotta agree with you there.”

  As if to punctuate the thought, his stomach gurgled loudly – reminding him just how long it’d been since he’d last eaten, and how much energy he’d expended since then. Shifters tended to have metabolisms like furnaces – something, he supposed, to do with the amount of energy it took to shift – but in amongst all the excitement he hadn’t realized just how starving hungry he was.

  The burger needed two hands, and the moment he bit into it he knew it was going to be good. The beef was succulent and flavorful, the bacon crisp and delicious. Expertly layered cheese, pickles, lettuce and tomato rounded things off, along with a tang of ketchup and a hint of mayonnaise. Rowan chewed appreciatively, savoring the taste.

  “That’s a good burger,” he said after he’d swallowed. How long had it been since he’d eaten anything other than what he termed ‘fuel food’ – anything that’d get him from one place to the next, in the most efficient way possible? In other words, he drank a lot of protein shakes and ate a lot of eggs. It’d been a long time since he’d sat down for a meal, even something as simple and hearty as a diner burger.