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  “Nika mentioned he passed.” Something told Jaemus he shouldn’t be extracting information about Nika from a child, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to know all he could about the amazing woodland sprite he’d met today. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.

  Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Cezar died several years ago and the post is in trouble.”

  That much Jaemus knew. Hence the job offer he’d received. Nika had said playing Wolfman would save her ass.

  And gods be damned, he wanted to do more than save that fantastic ass.

  Jaemus pointed to the applications. “Do you know what these say?”

  The boy looked at him as if Jaemus had gone mad. “Of course.” Then his big eyes widened even more and his cheeks pinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how you probably can’t because you’re not from here.” He chewed his bottom lip as Jaemus had seen Brandy do as well. “I can read them to you and fill in what you want me to write.”

  He bit into his apple again then set it down on the edge of the table where it wobbled precariously for a moment before rolling toward Jaemus. Dylan quickly stopped the fruit and took three more large bites, finishing it. With a surprising amount of strength, he tossed the core so it landed quite a distance away.

  “The wolves like to pick at the remains,” he said.

  Sure enough, one brown wolf lumbered over to investigate.

  “Which one is that?” Reardon had named all of the wolves to Jaemus earlier today, but he’d only half listened, trying his best to be as uninterested as possible. Out of spite.

  It was probably time he grew up and got over it. Reardon had turned him into a wolf. He was stuck here until he did something worthy. He was at the mercy of an angry goddess. All of these things were beyond his control.

  Plus, there was Nika. She was just the sprite to distract him from his current situation… or help him out of it if he could do something worthy for her.

  Or with her. Were having relations with her considered something worthy? Because he definitely wanted to sample her.

  “That’s Lug. He’s usually the one hanging around closest to the house. He likes to know what’s going on at all times.” Dylan turned his attention back to the forms and picked up the pen Jaemus had found in the house. He tapped the pen tip to the top paper. “So… help? Yes? No?”

  “Why would you help me?” The last interaction between Jaemus and the boy had resulted in growling and Brandy barking at Jaemus.

  Dylan shrugged one shoulder. “Because you seem sad and mad. Maybe having a job will make you happy.”

  Jaemus stared at the child for a long, silent moment. In the span of two sentences, he understood why Reardon loved the boy. Only a soul so pure of heart would offer to help someone who hadn’t been all that nice to him.

  “Aye.” He had to clear his throat, overcome with emotion. Not that he’d admit that to anyone. “I think it will make me happy.”

  A smile beamed on the boy’s face, and Jaemus found himself smiling too.

  “Okay, so, first question is name.” Dylan squinted at him. “I know how to spell McAlator because Mom wrote it down on a school paper so Reardon could pick me up if I get sick or something, but I’m not sure about Jaemus.”

  “J-a-e-m-u-s.” Jaemus sat up straighter in his chair. If Dylan was serious about helping him, he wanted to give the child his full attention. “Maybe we don’t tell your mom and my brother about this job yet, aye?”

  Innocent blue eyes stared up at him. “Why? Won’t they be glad you’re getting a job?”

  “I want to make sure it’s going to work out first. Give it a trial before telling them, you see?” A little voice in Jaemus’s brain that sounded like Reardon told him his brother might not be wild about the idea of him running about a theater in wolfman form in front of an audience. He’d need to share that information carefully and when Reardon was in the best of moods. If he wanted Reardon in a good mood, he’d probably have to stop sulking around and let go of his hatred.

  Easier said than done.

  “So it’s like a science experiment?” The hopeful tone of Dylan’s voice told Jaemus to agree.

  He nodded. “Aye. I might not be any good at this job. Then they’ll be disappointed. I don’t need that right now.” Though he was certain he’d be good at this job. Unnaturally good.

  “I get it,” Dylan said. “I won’t say anything until you want them to know, but if you need someone to collect data on your experiment, let me know. I love data.” He smiled then bent his head over the application again.

  Jaemus had never heard the word data before, but it also made Dylan happy so he nodded again.

  “Okay, the next question is about where you live? Do you want me to put the sanctuary’s address? I think if I put Ireland of the past down, Nika might think you’re nuts.” The boy didn’t wait for Jaemus to reply. Instead he scribbled along the lines on the application then turned it to face Jaemus. “So far we have your name and your address. Now it wants to know about your prior work experience.” He looked up at Jaemus, a frown on his lips. “I don’t think warrior is going to be a correct answer here.”

  “Why not? It was my job. I got paid for my services.” I bled. Often.

  “I know, but people nowadays aren’t warriors.” Dylan’s face suddenly brightened. “When Reardon first came, he let us believe he was a soldier in the military. Let’s put that down. People will accept that and respect it.”

  Jaemus squirmed in his seat a bit. He didn’t especially like lying to Nika, but he wanted that job. That Wolfman Show meant freedom and the wolf in him craved that above all else. This freedom, however, would not be total if he had to keep secrets and hide behind lies.

  “What’s the matter?” Dylan asked, the pen tip hovering over the application.

  “Lying usually causes trouble.”

  The boy let out a chuckle. “That’s for sure. I once lied about what happened to my bicycle, and Mom was not happy.”

  “What happened to your bicycle?” Jaemus had seen the boy riding the two-wheeled contraption earlier today. It had looked like an interesting pastime and mode of transport.

  “I took it over to Parker’s house when we were having one of our sleepover movie marathons. I left it outside and someone stole it. I thought Mom was going to kill me because I’d left it outside. It was an expensive bike she bought me for my ninth birthday, and she was always telling me to take care of it. When she picked me up from Parker’s, she didn’t remember that I’d taken my bike over there. I didn’t say anything that night or the next night. On the third day, she asked me why I wasn’t riding it because I was usually always riding it. I said I didn’t feel like it and that it was in the barn.” He shook his head. “That was a dumb thing to say because of course the next time she was in the barn she looked for it.”

  “Was she furious that the bike had been stolen?” Jaemus knew he’d be angered if someone touched his possessions, which made him wonder what was happening to the riches he’d acquired back in his time, his place. He and the men shared an old fortress as their base. The area was large enough that they each had their own chambers. With all the men gone, would thieves and vagabonds take over their quarters?

  “She was madder that I lied. Gave me this whole speech that Wendons don’t lie to each other. Ever.” Dylan glanced down at the application then looked back up at Jaemus, his blond brows crinkled together. “If I don’t tell Mom and Reardon about helping you with this application, isn’t that lying?”

  Jaemus shook his head. “It’s helping me. Helping is always good, is it not?”

  Dylan appeared to consider this notion carefully. “Okay, but if Mom yells at me, you’d better get me out of trouble.”

  “We have an accord.”

  “A what?”

  “An accord. An agreement.”

  “Gotcha.” The boy beamed a smile, making Jaemus reconsider his previous beliefs about children. His life wasn’t one in which children could exist. Running fr
om battle to battle, coming home soaked in opponents’ blood, thinking more about his sword and other weapons than anything else was normal for him. He’d never pictured himself as a father. He had no idea how to be one.

  Reardon shouldn’t either and yet…

  Dylan wrote for a few moments, hesitating once in a while as he hunted for the right words to use. He was going out of his way to assist Jaemus, and that made Jaemus want to do something for the child. But what?

  Before he could come up with an answer, the boy put down the pen and slid all the papers across the table. He got up from his seat and came around to Jaemus’s side.

  “So I wrote you were a soldier here,” he pointed to where he’d written that, “then I put Reardon down as a reference because he was your leader. Normally, you don’t put family down as a reference, but Nika needs you to take the job bad enough that she won’t check up on you anyway.”

  At the mention of Nika, Jaemus’s mind wandered to the sprite and the way her scarce tunic had allowed him to see so much of her fair skin. What would that skin taste like? His incisors nearly lengthened at the mere thought.

  He barely heard what Dylan said about the rest of the answers on the application. His attention was focused on seeing Nika tomorrow when he returned the papers and started work.

  When he used the beast inside him to entertain.

  ****

  Nika hummed as she went through her morning routine. She hadn’t hummed in a long time. Sighing? Yes. Grumbling? Definitely. But humming? No, not since Tato died and the trading post’s profits dipped to the negative side.

  The negative negative side.

  But today marked the turnaround point for which she’d been praying. She had a new Wolfman, and while her old Wolfman had been good, Jaemus McAlator was going to be sensational. She’d only met him once, only seen him perform once, but she couldn’t get him out of her mind. He’d dazzle the audience—the massive audience—just as he’d dazzled her. Once word got out about his impressive, realistic performance as Wolfman, the crowds would come from all over the country to see him.

  A flash of something almost possessive zipped through her as she thought of all those eyes on him. Checking him out. Marveling over his costume—and his muscles. Muscles she’d distinctly noticed had not been a mere part of the costume. No, those muscles were one hundred percent Jaemus.

  “Mmm…”

  She put her cereal bowl down, quite aware her hum of approval had not been for the bland, toasted oats barely moistened by the splash of milk she’d poured on in Ebenezer Scrooge fashion. Was it being a Scrooge if she didn’t actually have the money to waste on milk for her bargain-priced cereal?

  Regardless, that hum had been completely and totally for one hot Irish stranger.

  “He won’t be a stranger for long, Daisy.” Nika gave her pup a scratching between the ears. “We’re planning to get to know him well. Very well.”

  Daisy sniffed at Nika’s cereal bowl, and deeming it no more fragrant than the kibble in her bowl, she lumbered off to have her own breakfast.

  Nika finished eating, dreaming of pancakes, real maple syrup, eggs, bacon, maybe some fancy breakfast pastries… a breakfast for someone who had the luxury of spending money on breakfast.

  That will be me. Soon.

  Assuming her new Wolfman showed up. And why wouldn’t he?

  “Because I’m paying him next to nothing,” she said aloud as she rinsed her bowl in the sink, dried it, and put it away in the cupboard.

  What if Jaemus decided her offer wasn’t worth what it cost him in both money for his costume and time to play Wolfman? What if he’d only taken the application forms to be polite? Why had he taken them home anyway? Filling them out in her office wouldn’t have taken much time at all.

  “Shit.”

  She slumped against the kitchen counter and rubbed her temples. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Jaemus wasn’t going to accept the job. Only meth dealers were crazy enough to play a wolfman in a silly fairy tale spin-off show at a trading post located in Nowhere, Vermont.

  Back to sighing, Nika trudged to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Getting ready for the probable demise of Maple Ridge Trading Post. When she sat on the bench by the door to put on her sandals, Daisy trotted over and put her head in Nika’s lap, her big golden eyes looking up compassionately.

  “Thanks, baby. You’re such a good girl. Mama wishes she could buy you all the toys in the world and get you a brother or a sister to play with.” But truthfully, dog food and vet visits were expensive. Maybe she should start thinking about finding another home for Daisy.

  Ugh. That thought made her eyes sting. Daisy was her only family. She couldn’t bear to be apart from her.

  “We’ll think of something, Daisy-girl.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “You want to come to work today?” Nika had to do something to improve her spirits now that she was certain Jaemus would not be making an appearance today. Funny how she had been humming, blissfully ridiculous, only moments ago and now the stark realities had bitch-slapped her.

  Again.

  Daisy’s tail wagged at the invitation to go to the post, and Nika opened the door of the loft apartment. The dog’s nails scritch-scratched all the way down the stairs, and she shot out of the barn as soon as Nika let her pass. Two red squirrels let Nika know they were unhappy about Daisy’s sudden appearance, and a hawk screeched high up in a massive pine tree on the path to the trading post.

  “Yeah, well, at least you can fly off and not worry about bills, Mr. Hawk. I don’t want to hear any of your complaining.”

  Nika followed Daisy toward the trading post and stumbled to a stop when she caught sight of a figure leaning against the building by the door.

  A tall, well-muscled figure. A blond-haired, bearded figure. An Irish male model figure.

  “Jaemus.” His name slipped out of her mouth before she could hang on to it.

  He smiled as she approached and her knees wobbled. “You bring the sunshine with you, sprite.” He pointed to the clouds parting overhead and the warm, yellow glow of another perfect Vermont summer day.

  A hot summer day. So hot.

  Suddenly the red tank top and red, black, and white flowered skirt Nika had chosen for today felt like too much clothing.

  “You’re here.” She came to stand in front of him, wanting to reach out and make sure he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

  “Aye.” His brows drew toward one another. “Did we not decide I would work here?”

  “We did,” Nika said. “Well, I did anyway. I wasn’t entirely convinced that you did.”

  He held out some papers. Papers Nika quickly realized were application forms. Filled in application forms. “Your documentation, sprite. I’m convinced I should work here. If you’ll still have me.”

  She took them, not caring in the least what information they contained. She knew his name and where he lived and that he was an amazing Wolfman. What more did she need to know?

  Perhaps if his abs looked as amazing as she believed them to look…

  “Sprite?”

  “What?”

  “Will you still have me?”

  Have him? Good God.

  “Yes, of course. I told you yesterday, you’re my only hope of saving my ass and this place.”

  Daisy whined from her spot next to Nika.

  “And who is this lovely creature?” Jaemus held out his big hand for the dog to sniff and generally slobber all over.

  If only I could do that.

  “This is Daisy.”

  “Hello, Daisy.” He rubbed the dog’s ears until Daisy was a quivering ball of brown fur on the gravel path.

  “You’ll spoil her.” I’m jealous was what Nika meant. She wanted to be rubbed. All over. Right now. By Jaemus.

  She let them all into the trading post and flicked on the lights as Daisy darted down one of the aisles to investigate things.

  “So, saving your ass and this post, aye? That’s a gre
at deal of pressure to put on the new lad, isn’t it?” Jaemus followed her toward her office.

  She turned around before opening the office door. “Afraid you can’t handle the pressure?” Why did he bring out the flirt in her? It was as if she didn’t even have to try.

  His golden brown eyes darkened as he looked at her, his gaze darting to her mouth for a moment before settling back on her eyes. “I work well under pressure.”

  Pressure. Yes, some definite pressure was building up. Between them. Between Nika’s legs.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other then quickly turned back to the office door. Pushing her key inside the lock, she twisted the knob, the sound of a ringing phone immediately greeting them.

  “Excuse me a minute.” She gestured for Jaemus to sit on the couch and gazed longingly at the cushion beside him before yanking the phone off its base. “Maple Ridge Trading Post, Nika speaking.”

  “Nika. It’s Robert.” As if she wouldn’t recognize that snake’s voice when she heard it.

  She lowered to the seat behind her desk and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. How long was it going to take to deal with Robert today? She didn’t have time for this. Not when sexy Jaemus made her couch look like paradise.

  “What do you want, Robert?”

  Jaemus looked at her, something flaring in his eyes in response to the tone of her voice. Or maybe to the fact that she was speaking to a man? Jesus, his eyes nearly glowed. Must have been a trick of the office lights reflecting in all that golden brown.

  “I want you, for starters,” Robert said, making her skin crawl. “I want to rescue you from your money troubles and give you a life fit for a princess.”

  “I don’t need rescuing, and I’m not fond of royalty.” At least not if Robert Senclair was the prince doing the rescuing. If Jaemus wanted to swoop in and carry her far, far away, however, she’d sign up for that ride without even thinking.

  Jaemus is rescuing me. The fact that he’d shown up this morning rescued her. Playing Wolfman this afternoon would rescue her. Making that advertisement video of Jaemus would rescue her.