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  Alli smiled, the look pretty enough to briefly tug Michael’s attention away from the food. “Sascha is a really good chef,” he said.

  “I don’t think I’ve met Sascha yet.” Michael loaded a chip with the lovely, creamy dip confection, groaning aloud as the flavors burst on his tongue. “But I really want to. She deserves a hug.”

  “He,” Alli corrected. “Sascha is a he.”

  “Still deserves a hug.”

  Conversation lagged a bit as they looked over the menu, but Michael was increasingly conscious of the man across the table from him. Hard not to be—Alli kept kicking Michael in the shin. Michael was going to be black and blue by the end of lunch. He considered it a small price to pay.

  After they ordered, Michael clasped his hands on top of the gleaming table and leaned forward. “So, tell me all about yourself.”

  “I…that… I’m not very interesting.”

  “I think you’re fascinating.”

  Alli’s brow wrinkled, eyes darkening in confusion. “I’m short and shy. I have the worst luck in history. I own a small store in a tiny town. Not much to tell. And I’m certainly not fascinating.”

  Michael shook his head. “I think you underestimate yourself.”

  It didn’t take Michael long to figure out that Alli did better with direct questions.

  “How long have you lived in Putman?”

  “About three years. It seemed like a good place. People around here don’t care too much if you’re a bit odd.”

  “Noticed that. You’re not fully human, then?”

  Alli’s eyes widened and he reared back a bit. “What makes you ask that?”

  Okay, bad subject. Michael forged on, anyway.

  “It seems like most of the local residents are shifters or paranormals or something else entirely. Made sense that you might be, too.”

  “Are you?”

  Alli was growing agitated, so Michael let him change the subject. For now.

  “Yep,” he declared. “Bear shifter.” He normally wasn’t so eager to announce his secrets to everyone, but Putman…it was safe here. He could tell. And it was nice not having to hide his true nature all the time, to be around others who understood what it was like to be different in a mostly human world.

  “Oh. That’s neat,” Alli replied, another one of those shy smiles chasing away the last of the anxiety. “So you go big and black and furry during the full moon?”

  “No, actually,” Michael corrected. “I can go black and furry anytime I want. But I’m not all that big.”

  “I thought black bears usually were? I know you’re not a grizzly or polar bear, your coloring isn’t right.”

  “I’m a spectacled bear, actually,” Michael said. “Small, compact, mild-mannered.”

  Alli sat straighter, eyes glinting with intellectual curiosity. “Spectacled bear? I’ve only ever heard of black bears and grizzly bears and polar bears.”

  “They’re the most common species. There aren’t many like me around, at least not in the US. I think there might be more down in South America.”

  “So, just you and your family?”

  Michael shook his head. “Just me. My relatives are all black bears.”

  Alli’s brow wrinkled. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “I’m adopted.” Michael made the revelation with easy acceptance. It wasn’t something he thought about often. The Lakkises were his family, through and through. But when you were a different species from everyone else, the topic tended to come up. Frequently.

  “Oh, that’s—”

  “Enough about me,” Michael interrupted. “Tell me about your store. How long have you owned Flora?”

  They chatted quietly until the food came, the talk dying down a bit while they sated their hunger. Michael hadn’t been able to resist ordering that pasta thing. It tasted as good as it smelled. Alli’s own burger and fries looked tasty, but didn’t appeal as much to Michael. Bruce was a picky sucker.

  “You’ve got to taste this,” Michael declared. He held out a forkful of noodles to Alli. Alli looked uncertain but, to Michael’s delight, leaned over. His mouth closed over the bite and Michael stared, wanting to taste those lips so badly.

  Alli pulled away, licking sauce from his lips. “That is yummy. I don’t think I’ve had…”

  His voice trailed off, Alli’s attention caught by something over Michael’s shoulder. Michael turned, growled low.

  A few tables away, a large, beefy man and his wife were sharing an obviously tense meal. The man was staring at them, lip curled. His stare wasn’t the stares of earlier, curious and nosy. No, this was more of a glare, damn the self-righteous, prejudiced idiot.

  Michael glared back before turning around. He slid to the right, putting himself between Alli and the stranger’s vicious gaze.

  “Jerk,” he snarled.

  Alli shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but Michael could tell it still bothered him. “His attitude isn’t unusual.”

  “Doesn’t make it right. I certainly don’t get glared at like that when I go out with a woman.”

  Alli dropped his burger, the bun sliding off and hitting the floor with a soft plop. If his eyes went any wider, Michael might start worrying about permanent damage. “You aren’t gay?” he practically squeaked.

  Michael rolled his eyes. “I asked you out, didn’t I?”

  “But you just said—”

  “That I’ve dated women.”

  “You aren’t gay!”

  “I don’t usually go out with guys,” Michael clarified. He felt like they were talking in circles, neither one really getting to the point.

  “Which means you’re straight.”

  He sighed, snagged one of Alli’s fries and bit it in half before using the remainder to point at Alli. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth. I never said I was straight.”

  “You said—”

  “I said I didn’t usually go out with guys. Doesn’t mean I never do. I’m bi, always have been. It’s just a hell of a lot easier dating women than men. You go up to a woman and ask her out, you’ve got like a fifty percent chance of a positive answer. You go up to a guy and ask him out, you’ve got closer to a seventy percent chance of getting slugged in the face.”

  “Where did you come up with those numbers?”

  Michael paused mid-chew and stared, incredulous, at the utter seriousness on Alli’s face. “You’re very literal sometimes, aren’t you?”

  Alli shrugged. “I like facts.”

  “All right, so I plucked the numbers out of the air. But the meaning’s still the same. I’ve dated more women than men because it’s easier. Now, I want to date you.”

  “Why?”

  “Huh?”

  “Why do you want to date me?”

  Again with the seriousness, but this time it made Michael ache a bit. The guy was cute and earnest and honestly seemed confused that anyone would want to spend any time with him. Michael intended to change that.

  “I like you,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t,” Alli told him seriously. “I’m trouble.”

  Michael shrugged again. “I happen to like trouble. Particularly when I’m not the one causing it. Much easier to enjoy that way. Stop arguing with me and eat.”

  Alli stared morosely at the top of his bun, lying face down on the tile next to the booth. Before he could start on his now open-faced sandwich, their waitress appeared. She slid a plate onto the table with a wry smile.

  “Sascha thought you might need this,” she commented, her voice ringing with amusement.

  Michael grinned.

  The only thing on the plate was the top half of a hamburger bun.

  Chapter Six

  Alli absently sucked on his throbbing thumb as he studied the display he’d just finished. He tilted his head one way, then the other. Something wasn’t quite right…

  He took a step backward and tripped over a half-full box of lawn decorations. He staggered a few steps, but managed t
o stay upright.

  The display of fake roses he’d spent the last forty-five minutes assembling went tumbling to the ground. The trellis toppled, the carefully woven stems scattering, taking out the potted plants surrounding the bottom of the white wooden frame.

  Alli glared evilly at the dirt and petals spilled all over his formerly clean hardwood floor.

  “At least I know what wasn’t right about the display,” Alli muttered to the shard of pottery that had slid to land on his foot. The cheerful blue flower painted on the piece gleamed in the light. Alli told himself firmly that the mutilated image was not mocking him. “Too damned unstable.”

  Alli sighed and contemplated whether he really wanted to pick up and start over tonight. He could come in early and shove the flowers under a table before he opened. Ten minutes with a broom would take care of the rest of it. He could go home to bed now, the mess would still be there in the morning. It had been a long, busy day and…

  With an exasperated sigh, Alli leaned over and snatched the debris off his tennis shoe. While the mess wouldn’t go anywhere, he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight thinking about it.

  Alli finished piling the remains of his display back in a box. He was too tired to work on it anymore tonight. It was nearly ten o’clock and he was far too brain-dead to be creative. Alli shoved the box out of the aisle and headed for the back of the store, where he flicked off the lights on his way through the swinging door.

  “I really should organize,” Alli told the room, as he did almost every time he came in. On the way to his desk, he stubbed his toe on a box and rammed his shin into another. The clutter was getting out of hand. Michael would grumble.

  Alli groaned. “Blasted stubborn bear.” He had more trouble getting rid of thoughts of Michael than he did getting rid of Michael himself. And Michael was incredibly persistent. In the last several days, Alli had seen or spoken to Michael at least once a day. Sometimes more than once. Michael insisted they were dating. Alli insisted he was just being friendly.

  They both knew Alli was lying.

  Speaking of Michael… A blinking light caught his attention. The room was dim, illuminated by a single lamp on his desk in the far corner. Next to the lamp, the screen of his cell phone kept pulsing, a regular blip demanding he stop ignoring it. Along with the flashing light, the blasted thing beeped every five seconds or so. How the heck had he missed that? The phone was loud.

  Alli skirted the battered card table smack in the middle of the concrete floor, bumping his hip on two of the four folding chairs as he passed. He snatched his phone to see two missed calls. Both from Michael.

  Alli bit his lip, studying the display. He should… He shook his head. Grabbing his coat, Alli stuffed the phone in one of the pockets, relieved when his fingers brushed against his keys. He’d wait until he was home, then check the messages. Call Michael back when he had a good excuse. Just got home, don’t want to go out again… Yeah, that would work.

  Alli told himself he had no reason to feel guilty. Just because the man really liked him and Alli liked Michael back…experience had been a hard teacher. Alli wasn’t meant to have someone. End of story. Michael would eventually get tired of being pushed away, Alli’s prickly attitude and the potential for life-threatening injuries. If it hurt deep down inside, to think of a life without Michael? Alli would get over it. Eventually.

  A shout rang through the air just as Alli turned the key, locking the deadbolt to the employee entrance. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to bang his forehead against the door. He’d just end up with a concussion.

  Michael came jogging across the street, shoving up his glasses, which kept slipping down his nose as he ran. Alli realized his mouth was inching up in a smile and he quickly schooled his features. There was no sense in letting the man know he was getting to Alli. Michael was persistent enough as it was. Best not to give him any encouragement.

  “You didn’t call me back,” Michael accused good-naturedly. “I thought maybe we could catch a movie tonight or something.”

  “I haven’t listened to my messages,” Alli said. “Aren’t you leaving town soon? I mean, shouldn’t you get back to work yourself?”

  Michael grinned. “I do web design. I’ve arranged to work off-site for a couple of weeks, get my creative juices flowing again. Actually, I think my company was glad to get me out of the office for a while. My boss seems to think I disrupt the serious work atmosphere.” Michael shrugged, the expression saying go figure.

  It made perfect sense to Alli. Kind, considerate, and an all-around nice guy, Michael was still annoyingly…well, bouncy. Michael’s motto seemed to be if he couldn’t have fun doing something, then why bother? He had the brightest, most optimistic outlook on life Alli had ever seen. It often made Alli wonder what, exactly, Michael saw in a cranky, pessimistic, klutzy fairy. Not that Michael knew about the fairy part yet. Alli was kind of putting that little revelation off for the moment. Why, he couldn’t say, especially as it might be just the thing to use to drive Michael away. Despite Alli’s actions, though, it would kind of devastate him if Michael ran out now.

  Alli realized with sudden dismay how much the damned bear was coming to mean to him. And wasn’t that just his luck?

  Alli sighed again, turning fully to look at Michael. He got a wide grin in return.

  “So. Movie?”

  “I…I don’t know. I was getting ready to head home…”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Michael said cheerfully.

  Alli suddenly realized he was nodding in agreement, and how the heck had that happened? But the damage was already done, Michael linking their arms together, their strides perfectly matched as they crossed the street. When they reached the sidewalk on the other side, Michael let go of his arm, only to take his hand instead.

  “Are you sure we should be so obvious?” Alli asked nervously, glancing significantly at their clasped hands. And he didn’t tighten his grip. Did. Not.

  Michael shrugged. “Who gives a damn? Let people look. If I’m not going to hide being a shifter around here, I’m certainly not going to hide my sexual preference.”

  “But the shifter part you can’t hide,” Alli pointed out. “Not around here. The wolves, at least, would sniff you out in a second.”

  “You’re being literal again.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  Michael laughed, a warm, rich sound that started flips in Alli’s stomach, flips that quickly settled lower, tightening his pants and making him flush.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Michael said. “I think it’s kind of cute.”

  “Cute?” Alli wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to be considered cute.”

  “What do you want to be considered, then?”

  “How about sexy?”

  The instant the words popped out, Alli flushed darker, wanting to slap his hand over his mouth. Stupid thing, got him in nearly as much trouble as his two left feet.

  “Oh, you are most definitely that.” The lust in Michael’s stare, illuminated far too well by the bright streetlights, suddenly left Alli with a dry mouth.

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he replied, voice quiet and hoarse.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to, I don’t know, lick me from head to toe.”

  “Mmm. That sounds marvelous.”

  Alli’s feet stopped moving and he let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak.

  “Okay,” Michael said with another of those low laughs. “Obviously not ready for that. I guess I’ll have to settle for a kiss.”

  “Michael! We’re out in pub—”

  Michael’s lips, warm and gentle, caught the rest of Alli’s sentence. He didn’t press for entrance, just moved his firm lips teasingly. For all its almost chaste sweetness, Alli was still out of breath by the time Michael pulled back.

  Michael’s face was a study in utter masculine satisfaction. He licked his lips, humming softly. “I was right. You taste so sweet, like honey and mint.”

>   “I… You kiss really well.” Alli muttered the last bit to his feet, praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He didn’t blush well, never had. His dratted pale skin and freckled complexion turned all splotchy when he got embarrassed. Which seemed to happen a lot these days—nearly every single incident of which could be laid at Michael’s big feet.

  Alli locked eyes with Michael’s dark, intense stare and couldn’t look away. “I should get home,” he whispered.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll be inviting me in when we get there?” Despite Michael’s cocky tone, his eyes expressed hopefulness and, to Alli’s dismay, a hint of uncertainty. The emotion didn’t sit well with Alli, not when it was coming from Michael.

  “Maybe for a drink,” he replied. And to his complete shock, Alli didn’t even want to call the words back once they were out. Brief though it had been, that kiss had changed things. Maybe it was time to let the past hurts go, time to try to live the life he’d wanted so desperately when he’d been forced from home.

  “I’d like that.” Michael’s smile churned up that warm, lustful feeling again.

  “Then we should—” Alli’s foot crunched down on something hard when he took a step. He yelped, leaping backward, wincing as agony stabbed through the arch of his foot from whatever blasted…

  Oh.

  Shards of plastic stared up at him. Alli blinked down at the remnants of a cell phone. His hand automatically dipped into his pocket to check, even though he knew the phone wasn’t his. His phone was a weird shade of green, all the store had had in stock when he’d bought it. This one was…black. And large. Like Michael’s.

  Alli raised his eyes to look at Michael. “Sorry?”

  Michael crouched, picking up the scraps of his phone. “Damn. You really did a number on it, Alli. I don’t think it’s salvageable.”

  “I—”

  “Stop apologizing. It was an accident. Don’t know how the hell it even ended up on the sidewalk.”

  Now was probably as good a time as any to start explaining, but the words simply wouldn’t come. How did you tell your new boyfriend—that kiss had, at least, cemented Michael’s position in his life—that you would always be a magnet for the worst bad luck imaginable? In the scheme of things, crushed cell phones were mild. Loose Faytes had been known to blow up buildings and start wars. All unintentionally, of course, because the Fayte were, in general, a mild-mannered species. They just didn’t function well outside of Faerie. Not at all.