Etienne (The Shifters of Shotgun Row Book 1)(9)



How she convinced me being a lizard mama was the right move for me, I was never going to understand. Not that it mattered since I probably sentenced the little bugger to death by letting him out in the wrong climate. Finding him would be far less miraculous if I wasn’t 86 percent terrified of him.

Etienne showed up far quicker than I thought possible. Not that he needed to follow traffic rules, given his being the traffic enforcement and all. Not that I had a true means of judging since for all I knew he lived the next block over. Although I doubted it since I hadn’t seen him until he came to the bakery that day, and in a town this tiny, I would’ve.

“You have a pet alligator lizard.” Why was he sounding so amused while I was so franzzled.

“No, I had one.” I handed him the measuring cup to capture the mini-gator. “Now, I have a missing one.”

“And you named him Curtis?” He was already on his hands and knees, looking for him.

Fingers crossed he was a lizard whisperer.

“After Lizard Man.” Duh. Was the man culturally illiterate? “Can we move past the formalities, and can you help me find him?” Completely ruderific of me, given the fact he was actively looking for the little man while I stood there, broom in hand, wearing…I was wearing my kitty jams. Kill me now.

“Here he is.” He stood up holding the thing as if it were...well, a pet. “Is this what he got out of?” He nudged the side of his new habitat with his elbow, and I shook my head. He placed him inside. “You know the heating lamp, here, is not set up right.”

“Which was how I lost him,” I confessed. “I was trying to fix it.”

He picked up the container Curtis arrived in.

“With him in this?” He held the thing up as if it were exhibit B in the trial of who is the worst lizard mama in the parish. Spoiler alert: It would be me. I nodded. No use pretending I wasn’t stinkified in the pet owner compartment of my life.

He went to work fixing the light, which apparently had a piece I failed to remove from the packaging, making its assembly much easier. He then opened the crickets I bought for Curtis, placed them inside, and closed the lid.

“You can get down now, you know.” His smirk…why did it have to be so yummerlicious? It wasn’t like I liked him or anything, because I totally didn’t, but that smile, those lips made me want to kiss him a little bit. Except those lips were connected to the rest of him so...

“I...yeah...thanks.” I hopped down, nicking the side of the chair with my heel and fumbling forward. The only things preventing me from hitting the floor were his arms, which were now wrapped around me. I jumped back as if they were made of fire, which I wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t, the way they set my body ablaze. Not good. I was here to start a new life, not mimic my old one with bad choices of even worse men. Nope. No matter how lickable and kissable his lips looked as he smirked at me so, I was not going there. I so wasn’t going there.

I was so frecking lyin’ to myself. I was so goin’ there, and regretting it later was going to be my motto because the way he was eyeing me, waiting for me to break the silence was too much. Especially since he still smelled like flippin’ bacon.

“What’s up with the bacon?” I growled out of frustration. If it weren’t for the bacon, I’d have some self-control. Fine, some is an exaggeration. A smidge was more like it, but I still blamed him.

He took a predatory step forward as the word bacon escaped my lips. He was almost feral, but good fairies, I liked it.

One more step.

Without thinking of consequences or having the right mind to fear the animalistic look in his eye, I threw myself at him in the truest sense of the word. My lips collided with his as my legs wrapped around his middle, all sense of decorum runnin’ screamin’ from the window.

He immediately responded to my act of lustful crazy, taking over the kiss and turning me until I pressed against the wall, his body pressed against mine, his lips dancing with mine, his tongue exploring my mouth.

The chiming of my phone somehow broke the spell, for the next thing I knew, he was placing me on my feet and stomping out the front door, asking over and over again why I had to smell bacon.

As his car tore out of my drive, the phone began again. A quick glance at the screen told me Star’s caller ID must’ve let her know I called incessantly. Great. Best kiss of my life ended too soon because I panic called a pet store.





Etienne

It isn’t the bakery. It’s her. It isn’t the bakery. It’s her.

She didn’t smell like vanilla and cinnamon and sugar because she worked all day with dough and donuts and cakes.

It was because cakes and donuts were my favorite thing.

And she smelled like my favorite thing because Tansy was my…

No, I refused to say it. Something was wrong. We alligators swam solo. I had gone through most of my life content with the fact I probably wouldn’t have a mate. I was a gator, and we gators were notorious for dying alone—maybe we would impregnate a female or two along the road, but mates and families and those things just weren’t on the table.

So how come one kiss with Tansy had me shoveling it all back onto the table?

Because I was nuts and had been in my human skin for too long. That was it. It must be. I simply needed to get back home and push myself down into the shadowy bayou as a gator should, waiting for prey, resting in the secure shallows, inches below the cloudy waves.

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