S. Yule - Lycan Contempt

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just been a long drive, and it’s extremely cold.”

“Oh my. I’m sorry. Would you like some coffee?”

“If it wouldn’t be a bother.” He wasn’t cold. He ran several degrees hotter than a human, but he wasn’t going to explain that to her. Besides, a hot cup of coffee sounded like heaven at the moment.

The drive had taken twice as long and had been helish even in Baby. He was doubting that Baby would get him back home, as the storm had continued to rage on, not letting up for a second. He shook his head. Who the hel did he think he was kidding? He wasn’t going to leave her alone now anyway. She was his mate, and whether he decided to act upon that or not, he’d protect her with his life.

Leaving her stranded in the middle of nowhere was inviting danger.

“I’l find the panel now and get the generator going.”

“Thank you.”

He found the panel down the halway and flipped the switch over so he could start up the generator.

When he made his way back to the kitchen, he stopped and watched her, admiring the way she deftly put on a pot of coffee without so much as spiling a drop. Her blindness might be a handicap in certain situations, but he could see that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

He cleared his throat. “I’l be back in a couple of minutes.”

He went outside, around the house, and breathed a sigh of relief when the generator kicked in on the second pul of the rope. Most of the places up here had the same type of generator as this one because they were vacation homes and not often visited in the wintertime. At his place, he had a self-contained unit that was hard wired into his house. When the power went out, it automaticaly kicked in. He didn’t have to do anything other than keep it ful of gas and do regular maintenance.

He usualy lived up here year round, though. With the electricity being iffy at best during the winter, the generator he’d instaled had been wel worth the time and money for the convenience.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Why in the hel did he have to meet Georgia now? Why couldn’t he have met her before? Before Connie. Before al the others.

He laughed. What made him think she’d be any different in the long run? Don’t be an idiot. Georgia is nothing like Connie.

But was that reasoning because it was the actual truth, or because he wanted it to be the truth? Was there a woman out there that could spend a lifetime with a man with scars such as his? There had to be, but he hadn’t met one yet. Maybe you just did.

Yeah. And maybe you’re a blind idiot. He sucked in a sharp breath. Suddenly, under the current circumstances, that analogy seemed degrading.

True, blind idiot was a simple saying he’d used for years. He’d never actualy been suggesting that al blind people were idiots. But somehow, now that saying seemed derogatory. If anyone said that in front of him, in front of Georgia, he’d take offense to it.

Funny how one didn’t realize something that was said out of habit, no matter how harmless the intention was, could be hurtful to others until the truth smacked you right in the face.

He was puled from his daunting thoughts by a loud crack behind him. The heavy snowfal was beginning to take its tol on the trees. He had a feeling it might be taking a tol on the roof as wel. His roof had been reinforced to withstand such conditions, but again, his house wasn’t the norm for up here. He noticed a smal shed about twenty feet away and found a snow shovel inside.

There was a ladder as wel, and he carried it to the side of the house before propping it against the cedar siding. Luckily, the pitch on the roof wasn’t too steep to impair his job, but had a good enough angle to alow the snow to slide off and onto the ground with some gentle nudging. After he got the majority of the weight off the roof, he put the ladder and shovel back in the shed and headed inside.

Georgia was sitting in the living room floor putting a new bandage on Lucy’s paw when her visitor came back. She had to ask him his name so she could stop referring to him as her visitor in her mind.

“I pushed the snow off the roof after I started the generator. You should be good to go now.”

“Thank you. How long do you think the power wil be out?” How the hell long do you think I’ll be stranded here? was what she realy wanted to ask, but he wouldn’t know that so why bother?

“Power is unpredictable in a storm like this. Could be a few hours, could be days.”

“I thought it was supposed to be sunny and clear this week.”

“It was.”

She jumped when the man’s voice came from close beside her. How did he get so close without her hearing him? “Can I ask your name?”

“Yes. I should have introduced myself. I’m Kish.

Kish Frahm.”

Her stomach knotted. That was the name of the man from her dreams. Not only did he smel like her dream man, now he had the same name. Only a coincidence, Georgia. A strange, eerie one, but nevertheless, a coincidence.

She swalowed past the lump in her throat. “That’s a nice name.”

“Who’s this little lady?” Kish’s hand brushed hers when he patted Lucy.

“This is Lucy. She stepped on a piece of broken glass earlier. That’s why I didn’t end up going to town with Henry and Joey.”

Kish went silent for a few minutes before asking, “Can I help?”

“I would appreciate that.”

She pet Lucy while Kish worked on her paw.

“Henry and Joey your boyfriends?” His voice was low.

If she wasn’t mistaken, he sounded a bit agitated.

He couldn’t be upset with Lucy because she was being a perfect angel. Maybe he didn’t like animals.

Or maybe . . .

“Did Henry or Joey do something that upset you?”

“No. Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged. “I pick up things in people’s voices that aren’t as easily recognizable to others.”

“Ah. Yes. I’ve heard that when one of your senses is gone, the others compensate for the loss.”

She smiled. “Something like that. Yes.”

“There. Lucy is al bandaged. The cut isn’t al that deep, by the way. I think she’l be fine by morning.”

“Great. I hate to think she’s in too much pain because of my clumsiness.”

“Your clumsiness?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m the one who knocked Joey’s cup off the counter and broke it. Then almost tripped over Lucy.

She was scrambling to keep from causing me to fal when she cut herself.”

“Hmm. I don’t picture you as being clumsy. Could it be that Joey put his cup where it didn’t belong?”

Kish was astute. She liked that in a man. She shrugged then started to stand when a big hand caught her by the wrist and gently tugged her upward.

Her skin tingled. He was warm and she had the sudden urge to touch him. She eased her hands toward him, but stopped before she touched his chest.

“May I touch you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he finaly answered after a few silent moments.

Her fingers traveled over the smooth fabric covering his chest, and just like in her dream, he was big. His shoulders were wide, and every muscle was defined as if chiseled from stone. She let her fingers glide over the tops of his shoulders and to the thick column of his throat, but before she could reach his face, he stiffened under her touch. Déjà vu tickled her brain again when he circled her wrists with his hands, effectively stopping her progress.

The déjà vu continued when she felt the rougher skin of his right hand, and she sucked in a smal gasp.

“Did I hurt you?”

The concern in his voice was evident to her ears.

“No. I-I think I might have had some weird psychic vision or something is al.”