Page 24 of Rhett
Bonnie popped her hands on her hips and grinned. “Eighty-one.”
My mouth flopped open. Her ass-length jet-black braids were pulled back into a ponytail that clearly showcased the youthful appearance of her glowing sienna-hued skin. “You don’t look older than thirty.”
“That’s the magic of being an Other,” she explained. “We age slower.” She kicked off her expensive-looking stilettos. I followed by taking off my sneakers.
I laughed. “I guess I have the fountain of youth to look forward to.”
She winked at me. “And the ability to shift.”
I swallowed, not sure if shifting into an animal was my thing. I scanned the large space, taking in all the artwork that was mostly nature-themed and generally of animals or mythological creatures.
I pointed to the artwork. “Are these your creations?”
Bonnie shook her head. “No. They’re my clients’ creations that I’ve purchased.” She walked over to a miniature metal jaguar sculpture. “This piece was created by Rhett.”
I came to her side, running a finger over the intricate work. “He’s an artist?”
“Yes. In his spare time. Quinn Bane is a full-time blacksmith and owns a blacksmithing business, but his friends and pack—Mack, Emmett, Rhett, Brody, and Jasper—occasionally work on projects together that they sell through my art gallery. Their sculptures have gotten so popular, they can sell them and make some extra money for the town.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “All proceeds go to the town?”
“Yes.”
“That’s admirable.”
“They’re great guys. Quinn’s great-grandfather purchased all the land the town stands on and built Black Forest with his money, blood, sweat, and tears. He spent his funds creating this oasis for the Bane family, and he could have kept this place for the Bane bloodline only, but he opened his heart and invited Others to take refuge here.” She paused. “The Banes have always lived here. The first son of the Bane family has always ruled this town, and Quinn is the last descendant. So he makes sure that people’s homes and vehicles and businesses all run smoothly.”
I arched a brow. “So he’s more than financially invested, he’s emotionally invested in the workings of the Ridge.”
“Yes. He’s a little gruff, like most of his pack. But he really cares about the residents.”
“Impressive,” I said.
“It is, but enough about Quinn.” Bonnie touched my cheek briefly. “Back to art.” She pointed to a set of six prints. “My mate brought these home from a business trip. The artist is well-known for prints, so the ones he picked out are special.”
“Are you and my grandfather divorced?”
The expression on her face turned sad. “He was killed in Thailand on a business trip.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s been years, but I miss him like crazy. He died right before your dad went away to college.” She sauntered over to a wall with tree silhouettes, a mirror, and a framed piece of art. “This one is a rubbing of a Mayan stone your father—an art history major—brought me back from the ruins near Cancún.” Her lips curled up into a smile. “God, look at me, rambling away.”
I grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I love hearing about everything. So don’t hold back.” I released her hand.
“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here.” She cupped my cheek. “Now let me make us tea while we chat some more. How do you take your tea?”
“Two teaspoons of honey.”
“Got it,” she chirped before striding away.
Spotting a large grand piano in the corner with lots of framed photos, I headed over to check them out.
All the photos were of Bonnie and a man that I knew instinctively was my father because they looked alike and I resembled both of them.
I smiled at the photos because they both looked so happy. Sadness settled over me when I thought about the animosity and hate toward shifters that had destroyed their happiness.
One by one, I scanned the photos that ranged from baby photos to photos of Nathan as an adult. I moved on to photos of a younger Bonnie in a swimsuit, with medals around her neck. After meandering around the large living room, I took a seat on her plush sofa.
