Page 28 of Claiming Her Cougar (Shifting Pines #2)
LIAM
Well, that didn’t go how I expected. Not that I was expecting to see Mallory or have sex when I went to the rink.
I didn’t know she’d be there. But after we came to our “friends with benefits” agreement and got rid of my family, I was expecting something more than some soapy shower time fun and an interruption from her parents.
I start my Bronco and drive through the woods in the winter twilight.
It’s nice out here. I grew up in a well-to-do suburban neighborhood, so I’ve never lived somewhere this rural.
It’s incredible how much of a difference a few miles make, even in the same town.
Shifting Pines goes from marshes and coastland to deep forest in the Pine Barrens, farms to housing developments, houses older than the United States to mansions.
It’s so incredibly varied. I wonder what it was like to grow up with space like this.
Did they have free rein to run all through the woods?
Kendall and I could shift and run around on our property, but that was just a couple acres, nothing like having a forest at your disposal.
Logan’s lucky. He has the entire sky to fly in.
We land shifters are limited to the land available.
I bet they had snowmobiles and ATVs growing up so they could zoom around the woods. Mallory probably kicked ass racing, and it would be something they could include her in without shifting. I’ll have to ask her about it.
Maybe that’s something we could do together.
She doesn’t want to date and be out in public.
We can’t spend all our time in bed. Or in the shower.
Well, we could, but regardless of what Mallory thinks, there’s more to us than a physical relationship.
I’ll be patient, but my plan is to convert this no-strings friends-with-benefits thing to a genuine relationship with a future.
My mind wanders to the property in Atlantic City I’ve been checking out. Things have progressed a lot more quickly than we expected it to, but I’m thrilled. This is the challenge I’ve been searching for.
As I pull in next to the pool house, I see Mom returned my truck.
I glance in the bed and it’s empty, so Dad must have hauled the tree inside already.
Flicking on the lights in my living room, I walk to the kitchen to see what I have for dinner.
I haven’t been shopping, so it’ll probably be whatever I can forage from my freezer.
I fish my ringing cell phone out of my pocket.
It’s Mom, and disappointment washes over me, followed closely by guilt.
I was hoping it was Mallory. Mom must have been watching for me to get home.
Sighing, I answer. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. We’re having tacos for dinner. Want to come over? We have plenty.”
I know that “we have plenty” is code for “bring Mallory with you if she’s there.” I run my hand through my hair. It’s pretty much dry.
“Thanks. I’ll be over in a few.”
I change into jeans and walk over to the main house, letting myself in through the French doors off the patio.
“Just me,” I call out, pulling the door shut behind me.
“Hi, Liam. Can you give me a hand?” Dad calls from the living room. He’s trying to stand up the tree in front of the big front window.
“Sure.” Looking at the evergreen, I admire how full and symmetrical it is. Mom always finds the prettiest trees. “Do you want me to hold it so you can adjust the stand?”
“Just let me know if it looks straight. Your mom got one of those fancy stands where it adjusts by stepping on a pedal. No climbing under and turning the screws.”
“Cool.” I step back and assess it, leaning to view from a variety of angles. “I think it just needs to move a smidge that way.” I gesture to my left.
He makes the adjustment and stands next to me. “Looks good to me. Want a beer?”
“Yeah.” Walking into the kitchen, I press a kiss to Mom’s cheek because it makes her smile. “Smells good. Thanks for the invitation.”
“You know you don’t need an invitation! This is your home. You can bring friends too. There’s always plenty.”
“Thanks. I know.”
Grabbing the platter of tortillas and the carrier that has taco sauce, sour cream, and salsa, I ask, “Table or island?”
“Breakfast nook,” Mom suggests.
We grab the taco stuff and carry it to the table. Before I can even take a bite out of my taco—your basic variety with meat, cheese, and onions—my dad hits me with the probing questions.
“So you were skating today?” Dad asks.
I nod, chewing my first bite.
“Oh, Will, it was wonderful! I wish I had thought to record it, but I was so surprised, it didn’t occur to me,” Mom gushes, tears in her eyes. I didn’t realize it meant that much to her to see me skate again.
“Yeah, felt good. I skated with Logan and Trevor after Thanksgiving and figured I’d do it some more. Get used to being on skates on again.”
“So, Kendall’s friend is Mallory’s brother?” Dad asks. “Small world. I didn’t know Trevor played hockey. Wonder if we were at the same tournaments?”
“He’s a few years younger, so even if we were, we wouldn’t have had much overlap in ice time.”
I pick up my second taco. Skating and showering worked up an appetite in me. But thinking about Mallory is going to cause reactions that aren’t appropriate while sitting at my parents’ table. Gotta move the conversation on to topics that are not Mallory.
“They converted a barn to a rink. Their mother is a chemical engineer and invented a synthetic ice surface, so they use that. No cooling needed, no Zamboni. It’s a suitable surface to skate on.
Not as fast as actual ice, but fine for recreation or practice.
I’m surprised they don’t use it at some of the outdoor games.
It would be ideal for warmer weather. We could have a game at the beach.
There’s an anti-glare coating.” I’m sounding like a salesman, so I shut up and start in on taco number two.
“So, Mallory,” Mom starts.
“No,” I say firmly.
“No what?” Dad looks up from his taco.
“Mom’s trying to play matchmaker.”
“I don’t think you need me to do anything, Liam,” Mom teases.
Crap.
“You and Mallory? Dating?” Dad looks at me with a furrowed brow.
“No, we’re not dating.” Technically, I’m telling the truth.
“Good. There’s nothing against it in the company handbook, but you’re an executive, so there are appearances to be considered. And Mallory’s an outstanding employee. We don’t want to lose her if things don’t work out.”
“What do you mean, if things don’t work out? Why wouldn’t they?”
Mom and Dad share a glance.
Dad smirks. “If you’re not dating, what does it matter?”
My jaw clenches. “It doesn’t,” I mutter into my taco.
“Oh, Mike and Holly went to law school with Mallory’s dad,” Mom says. “Robert?”
“Yeah! I remember him. Very serious.” Dad shakes his head. “Crazy how connected we all are.”
“Hmm,” I say around a bite of my third taco. My best strategy will be to keep my mouth full of food so I can’t say anything.
My parents chat about Mallory’s uncle’s tree farm and how Dad will put the lights on their tree tomorrow, but we won’t decorate it until Kennie comes home on Wednesday.
Finishing my fourth taco, I rise from the table and grab my plate.
“Dinner was delicious, Mom. Thank you. I need to do laundry and handle some email, so going back to my place.” I rinse my plate and put my beer bottle in the recycling bin.
“Have a great night,” I call to my parents as I let myself out the patio door.
Laughter reaches me as I pull the door closed. I know my parents know I’m trying to avoid discussing Mallory. They aren’t stupid, but there’s nothing to discuss yet.
Entering my home, I consider what Dad said.
I know Dad likes Mallory a lot. Any reservations about us being together aren’t personal.
If my father and uncle are her bosses, and they like her and appreciate her work, then I don’t see how us being together would impact her career.
It shouldn’t matter. We don’t really work together.
I have nothing to do with her job. Hopefully, spending time together will show her it doesn’t matter and there’s no reason to hide things.
I can’t wait for us to hang out with Logan and Daphne tomorrow night.
I think the more we hang out with an established couple, the more Mallory will see we can have the same thing and relent on just being friends with benefits.
If we ever get to the benefits. I’m okay being patient, but it’s like the universe is conspiring against us.