Trees Take the Long View: shifters and partners, #17

By Hollis Shiloh

Alec dropped out of the shifters and partners program, disillusioned forever with the police.  Now an unfairly handsome troubleshooter is here to try to tempt him back.  To complicate matters, he might just be Alec's mate.  

Despite their differences, Alec wants to make it work (as mates—not partners).  But it'll take time for Dean to figure out what he wants.  No matter the attraction between them, it might take an awfully long time.  

Fortunately, Alec can be as patient as a tree...even if he can't keep his nose out of Dean's job...

A shifters and partners novel (standalone)
52,000 words
Low heat

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spare Words Press
• Release date: Dec 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386252900

Book preview

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ABOUT THE STORY:

Alec dropped out of the shifters and partners program, disillusioned forever with the police.  Now an unfairly handsome troubleshooter is here to try to tempt him back.  To complicate matters, he might just be Alec's mate. 

Despite their differences, Alec wants to make it work (as mates—not partners).  But it'll take time for Dean to figure out what he wants.  No matter the attraction between them, it might take an awfully long time. 

Fortunately, Alec can be as patient as a tree...even if he can't keep his nose out of Dean's job...

A SHIFTERS AND PARTNERS novel (standalone)

52,000 words

Low heat

Trees Take the Long View

by Hollis Shiloh

Iwas building a stone wall when he showed up.  My boss said, That's him over there, and I looked up to see a big competent-looking man staring at me with intelligent green eyes.  He had the self-contained quiet look about him that made me think he knew what he was doing. 

He put away his ID.  Not a cop; no uniform, and his ID hadn't been a badge.  Besides, I knew who the cops around here were, and I'd definitely have remembered if he was one of them.

The S&P, then.  I sat back on my haunches and looked at him blankly.  What was someone from the shifters and partners people doing here?  I'd quit that job months ago.

He walked over to me.  My hands were dirty; I hoped he didn't want to shake hands.

Hello, Mr. Brant, he said, giving me a nod, his eyes watchful and interested, taking me in.  I could almost see things going on behind his eyes, as he decided what to make of me.  I wondered what he saw.  A wolf who'd come down in the world?  Or one who'd found his place?  He probably hoped he could change my mind.

Hello, I replied.  Grabbing a rag, I wiped my hands quickly. 

It was a decorative stone wall commissioned by the homeowner from the landscaping company.  A low garden wall, more for looks than anything else.  It was supposed to look like the old stone walls around this area, so I was building it in an old style with locally quarried stone.  It would still take time to get that weathered look, but I thought it was coming along pretty well.

I took the opportunity to eye him back.  He looked sturdy and strong, for a non-shifter.  Near my age, possibly older than me, but not by much.  Brown hair and an interesting face.  And he had a good smell to him, a quiet steadiness and something that reminded me of the way freshly dry hay smelled filling a barn.

You can call me Alec, I offered.

There was no avoiding his handshake without being rude.  It was sturdy, and he didn't comment on my hands being dirty.  His strong, callused grip lingered briefly, then released me.  Not one of those guys who tried to make a handshake into a contest, thankfully, but there was strength in him.

Thanks.  I'm Dean Quick.  From the S&P.  Call me Dean.

I nodded cautiously.  Now that we were on a first-name basis, maybe he'd let me know why he was here.  The sooner it was over, the sooner I could get back to building my wall.  Not that he wasn't intriguing, because he was, but he wasn't going to change my mind no matter how nicely he smelled.  I guess he saw that in my eyes, because his smile turned wry.

I'm a troubleshooter, he offered.  You were one of the top graduates in your year.  We're sorry to lose you.  I'd like to talk with you about it over a coffee.

I nodded to the wall.  There's work to be done.

He nodded back.  Perhaps after you're off work?  Over a meal?

I studied him a moment, then shrugged.  I could stand to listen to his spiel if I had something good to eat at the same time.  If I didn't agree, he or someone else would keep trying, no doubt. 

After work, I offered.  He did smell nice.  I had good memories of hay: the way it felt to fall asleep in a big pile of it and feel as if the world was really rather big and soft and nice-smelling, rather than hard and cold and cruel.  In human form, it was prickly and itchy, but I didn't mind it against my fur.  I could smell summer in the hay, the heat of the sun, the warmth of growth, the comfort of the good clean earth and its abundance.  I wondered why he smelled like hay to me, and if he liked to roll around in it.  Or something.

We exchanged numbers, and he walked away.  I went back to building my wall, and thought about things for a while.  When I finished for the day, I waved goodbye to the coworker who was still at it, watering newly planted landscaping trees, and headed up the road, walking slowly.  I paced myself all day, but I was still tired.  Even a wolf shifter's strength didn't prevent me from getting tired, after I'd been lugging and stacking heavy stones in the hot sun all day.

I wasn't full-time with the landscaping company.  I usually worked a few days a week: more when they had a lot of work, less when they weren't busy.  I worked best alone, and on my off days, I spent a lot of time in the woods around here: hilly, deciduous forests thick with greenery and quiet, and peace.

There were no wolves around here that I'd run across—shifters or the regular kind.  I'd smelled foxes a few times, and an abundance of raccoons, squirrels, groundhogs, and chipmunks, not to mention plenty of birds.  But there were no wolves, or other shifters frequenting the same places I went; I was alone in that sense.

In many senses.

I carried my lunchbox, thermos, and work gloves as I walked, slowly, up the road.  There was no point in rushing.  It was about three miles from here to the main road, and then another three and a half to my tent, pitched in the woods.  I hadn't been able to bear living in a building after leaving the cops and my old partner.  I'd needed nature; I'd needed peace.  The tent worked out well for me, since I spent a lot of time as a wolf anyway.  It saved money and meant I didn't have to spend as much time around people.  The woods gave me peace.  Not much else did.

I'd always been a bit of a traveler, with itchy paws, but I hadn't always been quite so into the camping life.  Living near people was just too taxing right now.  So far, I hadn't felt the urge to move on from this place yet, but I knew it would happen eventually.  It was a small town, with lots of forest, and I had work: for now, it was a good place.

Would that change, if the S&P started hounding me?

I'd been meaning to stop at the gym where I'd bought a cheap membership so I had access to a shower before calling the man from the S&P to take me to dinner.  I hoped it would be somewhere nice, to make up for the hassle of listening to his sales pitch.  But not so fancy that the portions were tiny.  Somewhere, preferably, with a lot of meat.  Big portions.  I was hungry today, and didn't feel like eating peanut butter crackers and canned salmon in my tent, or raw rabbit as a wolf.  It was funny, because my appetite had been oddly depressed lately.  Today I felt like I could eat a small cow without any help at all.

A car drew up and slowed down, idling as it tried to keep pace with me.  I didn't look.  Somehow, I didn't need to.  A window rolled down.  I smiled to myself, as I caught the faint scent of warm summer hay.

Need a ride? asked Dean.

Play it cool, I told myself.  I shouldn't be enjoying the attention as much as I was.

I turned to look at him, slowly, squinting a little.  He stopped the car and I stopped, too.  It was funny how the light hit him, in the car, leaving him half in shadow, his hair half outlined like it was a partial halo.  Maybe he was half angel...half something worse.

What a fanciful thought.  How unlike me.

Sure, drop me off at the gym.

I think I saw it on the way in here.  BodyBulge, right?

I smiled a little, to hear that name said out loud, taken seriously.  Yup.  It was the only gym around here.  They were heavy into body building, mostly male, and as far as I could tell, mostly straight.  Which was a shame, not that I'd been looking for anyone up till now.  Like I said, mostly I used it to shower and shave.  Between landscaping and running in the woods, I didn't need an extra workout routine.

It had been different when I worked with the cops.  I got so pent up at the end of the day I needed to burn a lot of energy as hard as I could.  I was kind of rough on the machines at my gym then, although I hadn't meant to be.

I slid into his car and tried not to breathe deeply or sigh at the smell of warm man and hay.  Were you waiting for me?  I tried to keep myself from looking at him.  I needed to play it cool; I definitely shouldn't smile at him.  He might think I was encouraging him, and, well, I just didn't want to give anything away right now.

Maybe.  Damn it, there was a smile in his voice, sure enough.  A hint of teasing, too.

I tried to get comfortable in the passenger seat as I buckled up, and he drove on.  I still didn't look at him.

So you work out a lot? he said, making conversation.  I could hear the genuine curiosity in his voice, though.

I hesitated.  I shouldn't share too much about my living situation, because one fact would unravel the whole thing, and I didn't know how much he was going to try to dig out of me, and consequently how much I should try to keep private.  He might think that living in a tent was pathetic, and might try to use that angle as a pry bar to get me back into the shifters and partners program.

I wasn't one to stay in one area for a long time, and lately even the bother of renting a place seemed unnecessary. 

Many people, I guessed, would think it was pitiable.  But they probably weren't shifters, who sometimes just need to be around nature.  As a wolf, I didn't feel the cold as badly as a non-shifter would have.  Not that it was cold right now; but even in the winter, I might not bother to move anywhere indoors.  It would depend on how I felt at the time.  I could sleep perfectly warm in my fur.

I shrugged.  It's okay.

Well, when you're ready to eat, let me know.  Do you have a preference?

Somewhere with meat.

That shouldn't sound as dirty as it did.

He chuckled.  I hoped it hadn't sounded dirty to him.  Or if it did, that it would sound like I'd meant it in a light, sophisticated, teasing way.  Honestly, where was my mind going lately?  I wasn't usually like this—so self-conscious and tongue-tied and feeling like everything I said might be mistaken for innuendo.  Honestly.

I wasn't going to take you to a vegetarian-only restaurant, he promised.

Good, because there isn't one in town, I parried witlessly.  I turned slowly to look at him, wondering if he'd notice my face was getting red.  Felt like a bright cherry tomato.  Hopefully he wouldn't see.

He was looking at the road.  Good.

I turned away slowly again to look out the window, my heart pounding.  I needed to not be weird and self-conscious here.  Remember, you don't care what this guy thinks of you.  It's just a meal...

I'll bow to your culinary knowledge of the area, he said, in the same sort of tone.

I snorted.  Half laugh, half grumpy noise.  Stop being weird, stop being weird!

Not that I have anything against vegetarian meals.  I'm just hungry for protein today.

Sure.  I get it.  You've been working hard.

I had been.  I suddenly wanted to share things with him, and I wished that feeling would go away.  Maybe I'd gotten lonely, in my months of retreat.  Maybe I'd missed having anyone to talk to, to listen to me.

In the forest, there's fruit trees.  I eat there sometimes, a whole meal.  Don't even need to catch any rabbits.  I just don't eat like that all the time.  I'm not a fruitarian.

I looked at him, thinking of the tangled undergrowth reclaiming part of what had once been an old farm—the building was mostly gone, but there were reminders of what had once been, including a few overgrown and gone-feral fruits: apple, plum, tangled raspberry thickets.  It was a good place to fill up on fresh food.  It tasted real in a way that grocery store food often didn't to me.

Fruit in the forest?  Really?  He gave me an encouraging smile, and of course, I fell for it.  I began telling him about the fruit trees that had gone wild, left behind and still feeding whatever wanted the fruit, even though the humans were gone.

I wouldn't mind seeing that.  It sounds inspiring.

Inspiring?  Really?

They didn't give up.

I thought about that for a sec.  I guess that could be inspiring.  I mostly like the free food.

He glanced at me again, quickly, looking concerned now.  Do you have trouble getting enough to eat?

I shrugged.

Food hadn't been the priority to me lately the way it once was.  Used to be I could wake up looking forward to breakfast, and my happiest days were the ones with a celebration or social event surrounded by food.  That was pretty normal for wolves, being really really into food.  I guess you could say we were the original foodies...but maybe not, since we'll eat basically anything.  It's more about feeding the massive hunger that fuels our shifter metabolism than just eating things that please us.

Lately I hadn't been as hungry as normal.  I ate because it was a thing to do, but sometimes food tasted like sawdust, not particularly interesting or motivational.

You seem too thin, he told me.

Great, he was studying—critiquing—my body now?  I bristled.  I'm slim.  Is that a crime?

He smiled a rueful sort of smile, one side of his mouth twisting higher than the other.  It was a particularly arresting look on him, and I looked away.  Didn't want him to catch me staring.

I suppose I could have put that better.  What I mean is, the pictures of you in the file, you're not so thin.  So this is a new thing, not your natural build, yes?

I slouched lower in the seat, glaring a little.  I decided he didn't actually need an answer.  It wasn't a question—not really.  I didn't like him judging me—or reading me quite