Page 32 of Mate For Hire (For Hire 3)

“They’ll all look out for me and Bannon. And Patrick’s dead, so there’s no attack coming from that direction. Declan said he had some things to investigate further with Patrick.”

“Like not being able to track Bannon?”

“Yeah, among other things he’s not talking about. He said everything is kind of on hold until he can straighten out this mess with the law.”

“I’m sure it won’t be long.”

“Oh, it won’t. I have a feeling I’m going to be making some serious demands if they keep me waiting for my husband. I never thought I’d think like this, but the shifters wear off on you.”

“A coup?”

“Shush.” Janessa took her hand and squeezed it. “Get away, Lachelle. Take some time. Heal. When you’re ready, come back. But keep in touch meanwhile. Let me know where you are. K?”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks, sis. And if you find out you can’t stand being here alone, call me. I’ll come running. Heck, we can both run off with Bannon.”

They laughed together, hugging, and crying a little. Lachelle had no idea where she would go. She supposed it would depend on money, since she had so little. Well, it didn’t matter. She would land on her feet, and with any luck, in a few months time, the love she felt for Gerard will have faded to nothing more than a bittersweet memory.

Chapter 13

Lachelle stood outside her little cottage amazed that it belonged to her. Not only did she have a sweet home of her own, it sat on a good sized plot of land and was backed with woods. Her nearest neighbor was close enough to see but not so close as to make them feel like they were on top of each other.

Her heart swelled with both loneliness and peace. In this quiet out of the way place, she discovered no one knew her by sight. She could walk around with minimal disguise and be fine. Well, if one wanted to call getting rid of her braids for a straight perm and wearing cosmetic glasses a disguise, then she was incognito.

She chuckled to herself at her good fortune.

“Good morning.”

She jumped a mile, and the African American man who had just walked up held his hands in apology.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me coming.”

“No problem. My mind was a million miles away. I was thinking about how blessed I am to have this place.”

He smiled and glanced up at the cottage. “I knew the woman who owned it before you. She was like a grandmother to me and baked me cookies, but she passed away.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was told it was on the market for a long time.”

“Because of disrepair. Unfortunately, I’m not that good at that sort of thing, and she didn’t have the finances. If you find some jury-rigged repairs in there, uh, it wasn’t me.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“I don’t suppose you bake cookies?”

“Not any more than you DIY.”

“Touché.”

He held a hand out, and she shook it. “I’m Malcolm Stokes.”

“La—um—Lisa Williams.” She lied. She hadn’t officially changed her name. No one around there needed to know her background. She could purchase all she needed online and just get money out of the bank before buying locally. Or that was her plan anyway.

Before long, she hoped the situation with the shifters would blow over. They would go their way, and the humans could go theirs. Then no war and no conflict. It might be wishful thinking, but she wouldn’t focus on them. Her plan was to heal and build a new life for herself.

As she gazed at Malcolm, guessing that he must be about thirty-five, she wondered if getting involved with someone new would be a way to drive out her feelings for Gerard. Malcolm looked good with his strong build and sitting at maybe six feet. With warm and intelligent brown eyes and an easy smile, he might be someone to get to know. At least he seemed to be available. That comment about cookies was a pickup line if ever she heard one—a poor line, but still a line.

“So repairs aside,” she said. “What do you do?”

“Accountant. I have a small office in town. If you ever need an accountant, please feel free to give me a call. At the very least, I can give you some advice.”

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