“Yeah, like I could forget,” I muttered.
“Is it legal for him to do shit like that? I have a splitting headache. And why didn’t you remind him that mate thing is just a formality?” Alex had turned into a petulant five-year-old, so I knew he was fine.
“Believe me, he could do a lot worse, and he knows we’re not true mates without me telling him.” I hadn’t been aware until now that freaky elven mental magic would work on shapeshifters. “What did he do to you?”
“Set my brain on fire, I think. Felt like it anyway.”
That was pretty mild, as elven mind games went. If Rand had wanted to really hurt him, Alex wouldn’t be standing upright and whining. Unfortunately, I knew that from firsthand experience. “Why were you sitting outside, anyway?”
“Thought I’d wait for you and enjoy the fresh air,” he said, following me through the entry hall into Eugenie’s kitchen, waving at her along the way. She was still sitting on the sofa, staring at the fire, and I wasn’t sure she’d heard us. Which was good; it meant she probably didn’t realize how close Rand had gotten.
“This is perfect running weather,” Alex said. “Want to go before dinner?”
No, I had a little science experiment to take care of. “Thanks, but I promised Eugenie I’d help her with some, uh, cleaning.”
Alex had beautiful eyes, a dark chocolate brown with long lashes that every woman I knew would kill to have, including me. When he squinted in suspicion, like he was doing now, it ruined the whole sexy vibe.
“You’re an organization freak, but you only clean as a last resort when you want to avoid doing something else. You’re a procrasti-cleaner. What are you really up to?” He snaked out a hand and pulled on the Walgreens package, whose top protruded from its hiding place in my bag. I snatched at it, but he jerked it out, upended it on the kitchen counter, and grinned at the mountain of chocolate candy that tumbled out—until a peanut butter cup rolled to the floor and exposed the lavender box.
If I hadn’t been so worried about Eugenie, I’d have laughed at Alex’s expression. Despite my daily grounding ritual and the small “mojo bag” of protective herbs and stones around my neck, my empathic abilities echoed his fear.
He picked up the box with two fingers, carefully, as if it might contain radioactive materials. For all I knew, it might. Who knew what was in those tests?
“We need to talk about this, DJ.” His voice came out in a froglike croak.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “It’s not—”
“We’re still trying to figure things out between us.” He paced around the counter and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m not ready to be a father. You’re sure as hell not ready to be…”
Too late, he realized he’d stuck a big old size thirteen boot in his mouth. It would serve him right if I’d let him go on thinking the pregnancy scare was mine, just to see how big a hole he’d dig himself into. Except I’d promised myself I wasn’t going to keep secrets from Alex. At least not major ones. I was going to be mature enough to give this relationship a fighting chance, even if it killed me—or him.
Plus, I couldn’t deny that he was right. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I was well aware that my grumpy, unaffectionate cat, Sebastian, had become fat, happy, and docile since my house burned down and he’d moved in with Alex, a canine shapeshifter. He preferred a dog to me, proving I wasn’t even a decent cat mother.
“It’s not mine, Alex.” I kept my voice low. “The test is for Eugenie.”
I tried not to be offended at the relief that washed across both his face and his aura. His wonky shapeshifter energy, which had been crawling across my skin like invisible ants, settled down to its usual buzz.
Then it began rising again. “You mean…” He looked toward the living room, then out the window, where the front of Plantasy Island sat in plain view. Rand stood framed in the doorway, looking our way. “Holy shit.”
I followed the direction of his gaze with my own and nodded. “Exactly.”
CHAPTER 3
I paced back and forth behind the sofa; Alex stood in the entry hall, looking out the window at Plantasy Island as if he could will Quince Randolph to permanently disappear. We’d been waiting longer than the five minutes Eugenie needed to get the results of the test, but she hadn’t made a sound and the bathroom door remained firmly shut.
It wasn’t a good sign.