Page 9 of Ghost of a Chance
“Erm… he’s an alpha—”
“A lion?” Brad interrupted because he wasn’t good at being patient.
“Why, yes, he is. Did you meet a lion?”
He had, and he cursed himself for not paying more attention to what other shifter species were at the event. Could his mate be Hector’s friend?
Chapter Five
Lionel
The phone dinged three times in quick succession. Lionel, who was sulking and buried under his blankets, flung one of them back, glaring at the offending object that was sitting on his bedside cabinet. He pointed a finger at it. “I’m not doing anything today,” he snarled at the innocent object, “and you can’t make me.” He disappeared under the blankets again.
Yes, it was after ten o’clock in the morning. As a rule, Lionel got up no later than six in the morning on a weekday, showered, dressed, and was busy working no later than eight. Except, as faras Lionel was concerned, working for himself had to have some perks, and one of them meant that if the boss was having an existential crisis, then he was allowed to stay in bed.
Not that staying under the blankets was doing him any good. Admittedly, Lionel loved his bedroom. He’d had a custom-made four-poster bed with ornate carvings, but the highlight as far as Lionel was concerned, was the mattress. It was deep, soft, with just enough pressure so he didn’t suffocate himself by sinking into it. The space was warm and never fully dark. In other words, it was his safe space. Lionel knew where everything was, and between the cushions on the bed and the rugs on the floor, he’d designed it with comfort in mind.I need some of that comfort right now.
After his escape from the ghost hunt the night before, Lionel had gotten barely any sleep. Not even his amazing bed could soothe his shattered nerves stemming from the fears that had risen the moment he’d realized the event was being held at a place with no streetlights. When he did finally fall asleep, his dreams were filled with haunting images of huge groups of faceless people all pointing their fingers and laughing at him.I should try to sleep some more, Lionel thought with a sigh.
The phone dinged again. Grunting in annoyance, Lionel flung back his blankets and strode into his bathroom, scratching at his lower belly as he went about doing what he’d typically have done a couple of hours before.
After a quick shower, he walked back into the room naked and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Lionel had already decided to take the day off, and he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Padding in bare feet, he went over and picked up his phone, checking his notifications.
There was a missed call from Ian and a follow-up text. Maisie had the baby—a little boy who weighed in at eleven pounds six ounces.
Lionel wrinkled his nose. That sounded big for a baby. Lionel quickly opened his browser, finding the gift basket site he’d used before. Clicking quickly, it wasn’t long before a huge celebration basket would be on the way to the hospital. As an honorary uncle, it was the least he could do, and Lionel knew Maisie would appreciate it. Ian would be working, and Lionel made a mental note to text him later.
Morty had sent three messages.
How did it go?
Did you have a fun time?
Did you meet anybody interesting?
Lionel groaned and then quickly swiped the notifications aside. There was no way he could deal with Morty’s bouncy good humor in his current mood. Morty had probably already heard from the construction worker, who apparently was attending too, about the cowardly lion who’d run out because he got scared of a few spooks and spiders. Lionel shivered.Nope. Not answering.
There were a couple of work-related messages. Again, nothing important. Lionel was an investment broker—mostly dealing in mortgage finance. None of the messages related to any deals currently in the pipeline, he could deal with them later. He quickly swiped those notifications away, too.
The last message was from an unknown number, and the fact that it didn’t show as being from anyone in Lionel’s extensive contact list was unusual enough for Lionel to open the message.
He frowned as he noticed it was from Remy, the Bucket List Buddies organizer.What do you want? Are you just texting to let me know I made a complete ass of myself?
Lionel rubbed his hand over his face as he quickly scanned the rather brief text. “Someone wants my address? They said that I had something of theirs and they wanted my address?” Lionel ran his fingers through his hair. “What the fuck? I wasn’tthere long enough to have gotten anything from anybody. And the only thing anybody got out of me was a damn good laugh.” Figuring it was somebody playing a joke, most likely so they could come and laugh to his face in person, Lionel flicked that message away as well.
Slipping his phone into his pocket, Lionel made his way through the quiet house to the kitchen. He groaned as the smell of burned coffee hit his nose. “Damn it,” Lionel muttered as he quickly rescued the scorched pot, throwing it into the sink and flicking on the tap and running water in it. Steam rose with a hiss, and it was a wonder the coffee pot didn’t crack.
“I should’ve expected this.” Lionel reached under the sink for a pot scrubber. The coffee pot was always on a timer, set so that Lionel could enjoy a hot cup of his favorite beverage no later than ten past six. Not—Lionel glanced at the clock on his wall—at quarter to eleven.
After scrubbing out the pot, Lionel got a fresh brew organized again, the water dripping with agonizing slowness through the filter. Lionel leaned his butt against the counter, his eyes closed as he focused on the subtle sound. It could’ve been two minutes, maybe five, but at last the coffee machine let out a discreet beep, and Lionel quickly poured his first cup for the day.
The smell of burned coffee still hung in the air, and Lionel went over to his kitchen window, opening it, and letting in a welcome breeze. He sipped slowly, staring at the familiar layout of his backyard without really seeing it, his mind still reliving the mortification of the previous night.
I made such a fucking fool of myself, and in front of that gorgeous little cutie as well.Lionel dwelled on the memory of that face for a moment. Fueled by fear and anxiety, some details were fuzzy around the edges, but leaning into his lion’s recollection, he remembered the eyes. Not the color, or the shape…
They were filled with confidence and compassion.
You thought he cared about me? An idiot who couldn’t hold himself together in an empty warehouse.Lionel wasn’t so sure.
