The Baby Shift- Iowa Page 3

  “Was I a challenge?”

  “Aren’t you still?”

  The waiter came back, stumbling into their tense moment. His cheeks grew red when he tried to retreat, but Vince waved him on. “We’d like to try all the appetizers.”

  “All of them,” she agreed, licking her bottom lip with a tentative flick. There were more things than food that she wanted tonight.

  And there was something else she had to tell Vince Ashton.

  At the end, she promised. At the end.

  Vince

  They shouldn’t be allowed to make dresses like that, he considered. Or they should be allowed to make dresses only like the one June currently had on. How long would it take him to rip it apart? He played with the edge of his napkin, imagining the sound of ripping fabric as the waiter deposited fifteen plates of various appetizers. The entire restaurant seemed to be craning their heads to see the big spenders.

  * * *

  Let them watch. He smirked. How he loved an audience.

  * * *

  “Twenty-four hours is a funny time span,” he told her. She dipped a baguette slice into a spiced fig jam and blinked, her dark eyelashes batting innocently. He balled his hand into a fist to keep from jumping across the table.

  “How so?” she asked, and he watched her take a bite, wondering how much he’d pay to have to have been that slice of bread, how sick someone would have to be to even think that.

  * * *

  “I arrived last night, and in twenty-four hours, it’s like last year never ended.” He picked up a crab cake and popped it into his mouth. Chewed twice and swallowed. She wet her lips and took a swig of her wine. He could smell the desire coming off her. A lion was hunting tonight, and he suspected that she knew that.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry I left,” she said after a moment. “I was leaving for Fresh Meadows the next day. And you…”

  * * *

  “Yes?” he asked.

  * * *

  “You seemed like the type to not have any trouble with women.” Her mouth curled deliciously. “I looked you up at lunch. You’re quite popular among supermodels.”

  * * *

  “The funny thing about models is that they’re usually more interested in cocaine and luxury bags than discussing investment opportunities. I prefer intelligence and beauty.”

  * * *

  “Oh, really? I would think you’d already found a woman who could do both.”

  * * *

  “Perhaps I have.” He gazed at her intently and watched her shiver beneath the heat of his look. The waiter hovered nearby and took their order for entrees. They’d made their way through only a few appetizers, sampling each one. He liked watching her elegant fingers reach for food. To kiss her? He’d buy this whole place out if it meant taking her into his arms right now. The entire morning had been foreplay, and then she’d walked away. Walked away for the second time!

  * * *

  A shadow crossed her face. He smelled the dip of her arousal, and his nostrils flared. There it was. That same feeling, the gut punch. She was hiding something from him. He sipped his wine and considered his next plan of action. She shifted, and he could see her breasts straining against the fabric of her dress. He sucked in a ragged breath.

  * * *

  “June,” he said, enjoying the way that her name tasted in his mouth with the afterglow of the wine. “Do you need to tell me something?”

  * * *

  Her beautiful eyes flashed with fire. “What makes you say that?” She stiffened, her shoulders jumping as she leaned backward into the booth’s red cushion, farther away from him. Something kicked his heart. He nearly made a move to run at the sinking feeling in his chest.

  * * *

  “Lions have good noses,” he told her and tapped his nose as if to show her evidence. He heard her inhale quickly.

  * * *

  “Of course,” she muttered. “I forgot you shifters are gifted with bodily senses.”

  * * *

  “Will you tell me?” He might as well have been begging. “Is it why you’ve been hostile?”

  * * *

  “It’s business--”

  * * *

  He cut her off, “It’s more than that. You know that.”

  * * *

  Her cheeks grew red. At that moment, the waiter dropped in to prepare for their entrees. They both sipped at their wine in the stuffy silence. The waiter disappeared.

  * * *

  “You’re right,” she said, swirling her wine. “There is something I need to tell you.”

  * * *

  “You don’t strike me as someone who has ever had a problem being direct. I don’t remember you having that problem with me, at least.” This was like their last late-night meeting...

  * * *

  “You’re going to take me to a hotel?” June asked. She was staring him dead in the eyes over her drained cocktail glass.

  * * *

  “You’re bold.”

  * * *

  She tossed her hair back. “I’ve never been anything but honest my entire life. It gets me into a lot of trouble.”

  * * *

  “Will it,” he began. “Get you in a lot of trouble?” His question struck something within her. Tears welled up within her eyes. The waiter dropped off the steaks. Vince wanted to punch him. How did he keep coming at the worst time?

  * * *

  “I should go,” she managed.

  * * *

  “I’ve upset you,” he said. “I’m sorry.” When was the last time he’d said that? “Don’t waste a good steak, at least. Or the wine.”

  * * *

  They ate in silence. He ran his brain through what he’d said. What did she need to tell him?

  * * *

  “Have you decided on a new lot?” she asked as the waiter refilled their glasses.

  * * *

  He gave a cautious smirk. “I’m still stubbornly set on my first choice.”

  * * *

  “I’ll fight you,” she said.

  * * *

  “I know.”

  * * *

  Sudden tears pricked her eyes. “I should tell you.”

  * * *

  “Tell me what?” he asked. The waiter cleared their plates and offered a dessert menu. She placed it face-down on the table, unwilling to look at it. Her heavy eyes found his stare.

  * * *

  “That night,” she said, and her voice broke. “In New York.”

  * * *

  “Yes?”

  * * *

  “Something happened after.”

  * * *

  He stared at her. The cogs of his mind began to turn together. What was she talking about? “After?”

  * * *

  “Lance is my son,” she said in an even tone. It sounded as if it had taken every ounce of strength she had to get those words out. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open. For once in his life, Vince Ashton had been left speechless.

  * * *

  Lance was her son. No, more than just her son.

  * * *

  “He’s your son,” she said finally. Her eyes spilled over with tears. “I need to go.” Before he could stop her, she fled from the table. The waiter returned, casting a sorry eye at the empty seat.

  * * *

  “I’m guessing that you won’t be ordering dessert, sir?”

  * * *

  Vince had been left by the same woman again.

  ---

  “You’re positive?” Mayor Charles asked. “You said that you were firm at the beginning about this…”

  * * *

  “I’ve left you the full extent of my stipulations in the proposal on your desk. I’m leaving for my flight to New York in a few minutes. Call my assistant if you have any trouble,” Vince said coolly and told him goodbye. They were about to call for the first-class passengers. He rubbed his tired eyes and debated running to the coffee stand for a quick cup before boarding.

 
* * *

  She wouldn’t answer any of his calls. Not that he blamed her. Truly, she had a reason more important than business to protect herself...To protect herself from him. He sighed and closed his eyes, picturing how she looked at the dinner. To see such a strong woman cry like that. Somehow, he’d fallen more in love with her.

  * * *

  Not that he could do anything about it. He’d have to wait. Something in his chest stirred, the beast within him, as they called for the first boarding group.

  * * *

  Stay and fight for her! Fight for a chance to be in their lives!

  But he had meetings in New York, and at that moment, June wanted nothing to do with him.

  June

  Mayor Charles was at her house with a gift basket stocked to the brim with gourmet nuts and a bottle of wine. She held Lance as the politician zoomed in her front door.

  “Congratulations, June! I knew you could do it.”

  “Do what?” she asked as Lance blinked owlishly at the old man in their dining room. Charles set the basket down on the table and extended his arms triumphantly.

  “Get Ashton to compromise!” he said. “He dropped off the modified proposal on my desk today.”

  “He did?” she asked, a biting worry nipping at her. Vince had tried to call her, but she’d been upset and fallen asleep. “He’s willing to reduce the size of his building?”

  “Yes! To protect the historical integrity of Fresh Meadows. It’s just what you wanted.”

  “Just what I wanted,” she repeated with a shaky voice. “Is he at your office?” The last part was hopeful.

  He shook his head. “Nope, he’s left already to New York.” Her heart dropped.

  “Oh, I see.” But Mayor Charles hadn’t noticed the dejection in her voice. He went on babbling about the new project until June made an excuse of needing to put Lance down for a nap. She watched the Mayor climb into his car and drove off.

  Vince left. He left without trying to see her. Her heart tugged in every direction. Relief and crushing disappointment. Lance began crying for his nap, and she brought him to his nursery. He snuggled against her, whimpering, and unwilling to be put down.

  Perhaps he could feel her sadness.

  ---

  Lance was fussy all night. June rocked him, walking up and down the hall as he buried his blonde curls into her chest. Finally, he fell asleep against her, and she laid him gently down in his crib. She turned the baby monitor on and crept towards her room next door. Exhaustion. She hadn’t had a night like that with her son in quite some time.

  She couldn’t make it to the shower. Instead, she collapsed on her bed and sank into the soft comforter. Her eyelids were too heavy to fight. Soon, she was sleeping. The first thing she remembered was the smell, distant but there. It was that musky cologne that Vince wore. She pushed past the wooded brambles in front of her. A haze was over her vision. In the distant, beyond the forest, there was a flash of brilliant gold.

  It was an animal of liquid metal. She chased after it, her feet struggling to catch up to its quick pace. As soon as she seemed to be getting closer, the animal darted over to the side and beyond her vision. She ran until her legs collapsed, stopped at the outskirts of the wooded area. In the distance, she saw the animal trot towards the moonlight. It jumped in spectacular form. Her eyes widened. She could finally see it.

  A lion. Proud, mighty.

  Her eyes flew open when her phone began buzzing underneath her. It was a New York number that she didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?” she managed. It was only six in the morning.

  “I’m Mr. Ashton’s assistant. Do you know where he is?” A stern voice spoke from the other line.

  A frightened chill ran through her. “What?”

  “Mr. Ashton,” the woman’s voice said in an annoyed tone. “Have you seen him? He returned home briefly this afternoon, but he’s missing since. He’s skipped a board meeting, which was highly unlike him.”

  Her heart throbbed. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Oh.” His assistant sighed. “Thank you for your help.” The line went dead. June sat up in her bed, staring at her phone. She looked through her old notifications, but there was nothing. He hadn’t contacted her. She lied back down on the bed, sweating against her sheets as her mind reeled for hours.

  ---

  “You don’t seem like you’ve slept much,” her mother said when June went to drop Lance off for the day. June nodded mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. It had been two days since the frightful phone call with Vince’s assistant. No news. Nothing.

  Her mother didn’t press the matter. “Let us keep Lance tonight, and you can get him tomorrow.” It was all June could do to nod and hand over a few bottles of milk wordlessly.

  She drifted through work with Alyssa shooting worried glances at her.

  “Aren’t you excited about Mr. Ashton’s proposal?” she asked.

  Of course, but June would be more excited to know where he was! She checked her phone again and then drifted into her thoughts. Alyssa left for the day. It began to rain outside. June rested her head against her desk, thinking of Lance’s sleeping face.

  At home, the rain kept pouring until it finally let up as she climbed into bed after her shower. A sudden chill had settled in the house. She snuggled beneath the covers. Each night, she’d been dreaming of that lion. Would she tonight?

  She closed her eyes. The wind surged against the house suddenly, shaking the shutters. She groaned and went to go secure them. As she looked out into her backyard, she gasped. The clouds had parted to finally reveal the full moon, and in the yard, there was an animal of gold. The lion!

  Her hands flew to her mouth. The lion roared and collapsed. It’d been limping towards her back door. She held in a scream as the fur began to change to skin. It was transforming. It was a man. It was...Vince.

  Her legs carried her faster than she thought she could ever move. “Vince!” she yelled, not thinking of her sleeping neighbors. He was naked, save for a few scraps of cloth around his groin. He offered her a weak smirk, rolling onto his side with great pain. His tired face was somehow even more handsome than usual.

  “What are you doing?” she breathed. He coughed weakly, and she bent down, smoothing a hand over his forehead. He was warm with beads of sweat dripping down the side of his angular face.

  “I guess I should’ve called,” he joked weakly. She narrowed her eyes. God, she should punch him for joking at a time like this. “What?” He was playing it cool!

  And what...what should she say? That she’d dreamt of him without knowing it was him? That he’d sparked things within her that she thought had long died since that night in New York?

  His eyes burned into her skin. He was unraveling her, particle by particle. She was reborn from his touch-- a glistening body delirious with want and lust and all the things a woman dreams about when she closes her eyes at night.

  Worse, she’d loved him without knowing that she had. Her fingertips itched to trace his sharp jaw, unshaved and wilder looker than she’d ever seen it. She wanted to inhale his scent, to dream again of him every single night. She lifted her hand to her own cheek to make sure she wasn’t dreaming anymore.

  “Are you really here?” Her words were soft as the dew drops on the grass around them.

  “I am,” he said, and his hand found hers. There was nothing but the moon to watch him bring his lips, feather soft, to her cheek.

  “You disappeared two days ago,” she said. “Your assistant called.”

  His gaze flickered downward. “The funny thing about being a Shifter is that you can’t always control it. Your beast,” he said and rubbed the middle of his chest. “Your beast knows before your human mind what to do.”

  “You ran for two days?” she asked. She could see the dirt and bruised edges of his hands.

  “Like I said, sometimes you don’t control it. It controls you.”

  Vince

  June led him into the house. T
he first stop was the shower. His feet and hands were filthy. Vince wanted to touch her, caress her, kiss her...but he smelled like he’d run two days.

  * * *

  “I’m heating you up some food,” she said and handed him a towel. The hot steam began to fill up the bathroom. She averted her eyes from his fit naked body. He smirked.

  * * *

  “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he assured her. She swatted him and left him. He

  heard the microwave running as he hopped underneath the stream of water. He couldn’t smell her son here. Their son. He smiled to himself.

  * * *

  She had a beef stew waiting for him. He wrapped the towel around his lower body, and she stared at his chiseled chest with pink cheeks. She pushed the bowl towards him, He wouldn’t argue with a meal, but he knew what he wanted for dessert.