suffered species confusion and
curiosity, sometimes wanting to be something they’re not. Grant’d had a little
crush on his junior high English teacher back in the day, a fox.
“Yeah. Of course. I know B.J.” He didn’t mean for his voice
to sound so hollow.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…you know, I’ve been imposing on you,
using you as a social crutch. I need to put myself out there, meet people, do
things, become part of the community. Even if it requires me getting drunk and
stupid with B.J. and his dear friends.”
“No.” He waved his hand. “You’re right. Of course.”
Maybe he’d been using her a little too. Losing Molly had
taken its toll. It was hard to admit being lonely. Harder to remedy being lonely. His friends had been her friends, so being with them often
reminded him of her . Painful. Along comes a stranger who’s safe .
No history or preconceived notions about him. They had clicked right away.
Everything about Ivy was non-threatening, from her personality to her looks.
Although today she appeared beguiling, even with no makeup, her hair swept up
in a ponytail under a hairnet and a layer of sweat and kitchen grease on her
face. Someone needs a cold shower.
“Come with us,” she said. “It’s not like a date or anything.
Far from it.”
Grant knew it was very much like a date, the first of many
dates with a variety of suitors. Someone in Mystic Springs was meant for her
and she for him. Their union would save the springs, or so many thought. An odd
mixture of sadness and jealousy churned within his gut. His soul mate was gone,
a victim of a reckless driver. With Molly had died the baby she carried, as
well as his hopes and dreams for a complete and happy life. His life was the
town. Everyone in town, not just wolves.
Ivy could still have all that—family and happiness. Not with
Bobby Joe Dumfries—God forbid—but she needed to find that out for herself.
“We’ll get together tomorrow to brainstorm. How about that?” How pathetic am I? He didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a
second. Bobby Joe driving while intoxicated came to mind. Bobby Joe putting his
moves on her caused an inner cringe. He doubted that B.J. understood the
meaning of the word no.
She smiled radiantly at him. “Great.”
He tucked a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. Any excuse to
touch her. “Just do me a favor and be careful.”
Smiling brightly, she said, “Careful is my middle name.”
He knew Ellen was her middle name.
Chapter Five
Bobby Joe Dumfries was three sheets to the wind. He crooned
a bawdy country-western tune to a stuffed deer head above the bar of his
favorite watering hole. With his dear friends, as he’d called them, around him,
he’d drunk not only his quota of beer, but also Ivy’s.
“Let’s go up to the hot springs,” he suggested with a
pronounced slur to his words and a wink that caused bile to rise in her throat.
“The pool is closed this time of night,” she pointed out.
Buzzed or not, she was the manager. And she didn’t want to get caught
there—again—after hours only to be ejected by Jack, the maintenance guy. Very
embarrassing and not to be repeated.
“Not the pool.” B.J., as he liked to be called for reasons
she couldn’t understand, waved his hand. “The natural hot springs. The real
springs.”
Intrigued, Ivy agreed. Although she didn’t care to spend
five more minutes with Bobby Joe, she did have a burning desire to experience
everything Mystic. She knew there was a Mystic River that flowed into a pond
via a waterfall. She’d read about it and seen it in her dreams. From everything
she knew, it wasn’t a hot spring. And it wasn’t on the map. The water had been
cool when she’d dived into it in her dreams. Cool. Warm. Cool. Not hot, unless
they used that term loosely. She trusted her dreams. Trusted Bobby Joe…not so
much.
The resort had been built on and around the hot springs,
according to the printed literature at the resort.
curiosity, sometimes wanting to be something they’re not. Grant’d had a little
crush on his junior high English teacher back in the day, a fox.
“Yeah. Of course. I know B.J.” He didn’t mean for his voice
to sound so hollow.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…you know, I’ve been imposing on you,
using you as a social crutch. I need to put myself out there, meet people, do
things, become part of the community. Even if it requires me getting drunk and
stupid with B.J. and his dear friends.”
“No.” He waved his hand. “You’re right. Of course.”
Maybe he’d been using her a little too. Losing Molly had
taken its toll. It was hard to admit being lonely. Harder to remedy being lonely. His friends had been her friends, so being with them often
reminded him of her . Painful. Along comes a stranger who’s safe .
No history or preconceived notions about him. They had clicked right away.
Everything about Ivy was non-threatening, from her personality to her looks.
Although today she appeared beguiling, even with no makeup, her hair swept up
in a ponytail under a hairnet and a layer of sweat and kitchen grease on her
face. Someone needs a cold shower.
“Come with us,” she said. “It’s not like a date or anything.
Far from it.”
Grant knew it was very much like a date, the first of many
dates with a variety of suitors. Someone in Mystic Springs was meant for her
and she for him. Their union would save the springs, or so many thought. An odd
mixture of sadness and jealousy churned within his gut. His soul mate was gone,
a victim of a reckless driver. With Molly had died the baby she carried, as
well as his hopes and dreams for a complete and happy life. His life was the
town. Everyone in town, not just wolves.
Ivy could still have all that—family and happiness. Not with
Bobby Joe Dumfries—God forbid—but she needed to find that out for herself.
“We’ll get together tomorrow to brainstorm. How about that?” How pathetic am I? He didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a
second. Bobby Joe driving while intoxicated came to mind. Bobby Joe putting his
moves on her caused an inner cringe. He doubted that B.J. understood the
meaning of the word no.
She smiled radiantly at him. “Great.”
He tucked a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. Any excuse to
touch her. “Just do me a favor and be careful.”
Smiling brightly, she said, “Careful is my middle name.”
He knew Ellen was her middle name.
Chapter Five
Bobby Joe Dumfries was three sheets to the wind. He crooned
a bawdy country-western tune to a stuffed deer head above the bar of his
favorite watering hole. With his dear friends, as he’d called them, around him,
he’d drunk not only his quota of beer, but also Ivy’s.
“Let’s go up to the hot springs,” he suggested with a
pronounced slur to his words and a wink that caused bile to rise in her throat.
“The pool is closed this time of night,” she pointed out.
Buzzed or not, she was the manager. And she didn’t want to get caught
there—again—after hours only to be ejected by Jack, the maintenance guy. Very
embarrassing and not to be repeated.
“Not the pool.” B.J., as he liked to be called for reasons
she couldn’t understand, waved his hand. “The natural hot springs. The real
springs.”
Intrigued, Ivy agreed. Although she didn’t care to spend
five more minutes with Bobby Joe, she did have a burning desire to experience
everything Mystic. She knew there was a Mystic River that flowed into a pond
via a waterfall. She’d read about it and seen it in her dreams. From everything
she knew, it wasn’t a hot spring. And it wasn’t on the map. The water had been
cool when she’d dived into it in her dreams. Cool. Warm. Cool. Not hot, unless
they used that term loosely. She trusted her dreams. Trusted Bobby Joe…not so
much.
The resort had been built on and around the hot springs,
according to the printed literature at the resort.
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