“I’m just fine. Perfectly fine.” When she looked at him again, there was a hint of a smile on his full lips.

  What would those lips feel like?

  She wanted to get to know him better.

  After only a couple days, he was already closer to Morgan and her tiny family than any man had been since Adam’s death.

  And even closer to her heart, almost against all reason or logic, it seemed.

  Diesel just cocked his head slightly as if waiting for her to say more. She’d already come to love the curiosity those sapphire depths held and the way a certain fire lit them from the inside whenever he was looking in her direction. Though, maybe that was all just in her head.

  “You don’t look fine. You’ve been working on that pumpkin for twenty minutes now.”

  Holy smokes, really?

  “I’ve got this,” she said. The same words she’d said a million times before just to keep her going because life never seemed to stop for her.

  Instead, she put the knife down for a moment, not wanting to lose this precious time all alone with her basilisk.

  Wait, her basilisk?

  “So I’ve been dying to ask, Diesel. What’s your story?” She leaned an arm on the table and crossed her legs so she was half turned to him.

  Diesel’s eyes went slightly wide. “What story? As a basilisk?”

  She tried to suppress a laugh. “Is there a different one I should know about?” For a moment, she feared it could mean he had another family somewhere or some lost love he still yearned for.

  The thought made her instantly jealous.

  But he smiled, allaying her fears, and his canines looked a little sharper than most people’s. Were they always like that?

  “Not yet there isn’t.” Then he glanced down her body, and Morgan felt her skin get warm everywhere just by his casual but dominant perusal.

  “So tell me, then,” she said, trying to distract from the thought of pressing her body to his just to know what all that muscle felt like.

  He sat up a bit with a shrug but kept all his attention on her. “Most of my life, I’ve lived as the monster you saw outside of town the other day.”

  “What, you mean not like a human?” The idea astounded her.

  “Not until recently at least. Dragons and other shifters, they had to adapt to survive. Hide in their human forms so people wouldn’t find them out. But basilisks live underground. Never needed to look human.”

  “What changed?” she asked.

  “We woke up and knew something was missing. Ever since, I’ve been looking for my m—” He shut his mouth suddenly, then, perhaps upon realizing how abruptly he’d stopped, finished his sentence. “For a new purpose in this modern world.”

  She’d give her left leg to know what he’d been about to say just a second ago. Somehow, she had the idea it involved her, but maybe that was just a passing fancy.

  But as kind as Diesel was around her and Grace, Morgan knew just by looking at him that if Diesel didn’t want to do something, no amount of pressure would get him to budge.

  “So what did you do before waking up and living as humans?”

  Diesel chuckled, a low sound she felt in her core, and she wished she could suppress her own body’s reaction to him. “Just so you know, we’ve always been part human. We’re shifters too. But a human form isn’t very handy when fighting other monsters.”

  “Other monsters? You mean like the wyvern thing?”

  He nodded. “They’re small-fry compared to the other creatures we’ve fought off to protect this beautiful land. Or from predators trying to take over our territory.”

  Grace would certainly have had a fit of questions, hearing about other monsters, but the idea that Diesel’s sole profession before coming into her life had been to fight things was as fascinating as it was terrible.

  Giant, horrible things from the sound of it.

  Diesel seemed to note her dismay and leaned closer, which was reassuring somehow.

  Just his presence was reassuring.

  And frustratingly arousing.

  “But all those monsters are gone. Or they should be, at least. If anything else comes for you, I’ll bury them just like the last one.”

  She wanted to grimace at the memory of his fight, but the calm, protective way he said it only made her more relaxed.

  “Thanks again for that.” And when she reached out a hand to touch his palm, which was slung over the back of the chair, electric sparks seemed to move up her arm, and she pulled away immediately.

  Diesel glanced to the side, then back at her. “And thanks to some friends we made, me and the other basilisks have a better idea of how this world works.”

  “Other basilisks? Tell me about them.”

  For several minutes, Diesel talked about a place called Dragonclaw Ranch in the far west of Texas. Of the other two basilisks, Gunnar and Ajax. Of his enemies-turned-friends back at the ranch, and especially the time they spent with Reno and his wife, Dani, before taking assignments to protect humans and shifters alike from danger.

  Morgan supposed after seeing that fight with the rock wyvern that it made sense why he was so naturally protective.

  He’d been protecting things for a long time.

  “They sound like quite a crew,” she said, losing herself in her conversation with Diesel. “So how is it you’re still single? Certainly, I’m not the first woman… I mean, only woman to find you attractive.”

  Oops, mayday. Definitely slipped on that one, Morgan.

  But Diesel’s eyes shuttered with something mysterious, and his lips quirked to one side. Thankfully, he didn’t hang her for giving away the fact she was interested too quickly.

  After all, she didn’t want him thinking she was easy or anything.

  Then he licked his lips once and let out a long exhale. “Still looking for the right one,” he said.

  Why did he stare straight at her, and so intensely, when he said it then?

  Morgan felt her cheeks flame, and she gulped, trying to wet her suddenly dry mouth.

  Rather than continue to look at him while he stared like that, she picked up the dull pumpkin knife and began hacking at the pumpkin again.

  Her hand was moving like a maniac, forward and backward, while Diesel just waited patiently in the corner of her vision.

  “Want me to get you something sharper?”

  “I should’ve just bought the nicer ones at the store. They were only two dollars more,” she ranted, more to herself than Diesel, as she dropped the dull, useless knife onto the table.

  Suddenly, Diesel stood up and came around to stand behind her, and Morgan’s entire body froze with his nearness.

  He leaned over from behind, surrounding her with his masculine presence and that scintillating scent, though he didn’t touch her yet.

  “May I?” His whisper in her ear was more of a growl, and her ears buzzed with the warmth of his breath on her.

  “Be my guest,” she tried to say confidently, attempting to act unaffected.

  That only got her in deeper trouble.

  He leaned in closer, and she felt her shoulders and the back of her head brush against his chest. Meanwhile, he brought his right hand forward over her right shoulder, and his hand slid over hers. Either by accident or intention, the result was the same as her skin lit up like little lights turning on everywhere.

  She put her hands on the table, grasping the wood there as all her nerves went haywire.

  Then, to her shock, he flicked a finger up in front of the pumpkin, and a black claw extended from it, glossy like obsidian and doubly as sharp-looking.

  Without a word, he sliced into the pumpkin like a knife through warm butter. And with the effortlessness of a master painter with a brush, Diesel carved through the firm flesh easily, back and forth, finishing the eye, then the nose, the mouth.

  All the while, Morgan practically held her breath at the sheer precision of it. The confidence with which he moved. The way his rough, thick hand moved left and right until, in what felt like seconds, the pumpkin was complete, carved perfectly to the outline she’d traced on it earlier.

  How could someone so huge and ferocious be so calm, so utterly competent at the same time?

  She let out a soft gasp as the claw retracted, and when he pulled away, she felt like a magnet being pulled away from its other half, desperate to feel him near again.

  Morgan spun her chair around, and herself with it, body on fire, her thoughts blazing with disappointment.

  He was teasing her, riling her up, and he knew it. And when she looked at him, she’d see it on his too-handsome face, she just knew—

  But as she set the chair down and looked up at him, expecting a teasing smirk or something, his posture wasn’t that of someone trying to get a rise out of her.

  Instead, he was utterly serious as he watched her, arms folded, appraising her thoughtfully.

  “What do you want out of life, Morgan?” he asked, blue eyes seeming like they could see into her soul.

  She stuttered, caught off guard by this serious, no-games side of Diesel. “I mean, I want what every parent wants. Safety. Security. A good life for me and my daughter.”

  He shifted his weight slightly. “That sounds like what you want for your family. What do you want?” And when he said the word you, he leaned in a little, looming over her.

  Morgan thought long and hard for those moments.

  She wanted to forget the past, though that was impossible.

  She wanted a future where she could be happy, as a woman and as a parent.

  She wanted so many things.

  But right now, looking up at this sweet, dominant, incredible man that made her feel alive in scary ways, she knew she wanted him more than anything else right now.

  “More,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “More what?”

  She let out an exasperated breath, overwhelmed by everything all at once. “Does it have to be that specific?” Even her body’s reaction to him felt like betrayal right now, though only in the darkest parts of her.

  He leaned forward, and he pressed his hands onto the table behind her, caging her into her seat as he came closer to her. So close she could almost feel his breath on her again.

  Such primal energy. Such barely contained ferocity it made her hungrier than ever for him.

  “Do you want me?” he asked, cool as a cucumber, though he couldn’t hide the tension in his arms and shoulders as he kept her trapped.

  “What kind of question is that? How can you even ask that?” She sputtered.

  “So you do want me?”

  Her eyes went wide with embarrassment. “I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at you.”

  “I don’t care if other people want me. I want to know what you want, Morgan.”

  For several seconds, the air seemed to heat around her as they locked gazes, neither of them moving even a centimeter as her chest raced with heavy breaths.

  There was no point running. She’d run for over ten years, and it had gotten her nowhere.

  “I… I do want you,” she said honestly. Then, like a song on repeat, she opened her mouth again, ready to deny this attraction and fire off all the reasons this was stupid and brash and she shouldn’t be allowing this. “However—”

  But Diesel’s lips crashed over hers before the aforementioned protestations could stop her on this collision course with destiny.

  His kiss was rough but gentle, and liquid heat seared through Morgan’s insides as their lips made contact.

  And all her reasons felt like so much dust in the wind in comparison to the raw, desperate want she felt for him in that moment.

  For a second, he held their lips together, and the hairs of his beard tickled her lips and cheeks.

  Then, moving closer to her, he deepened the kiss, and as she parted her lips, his tongue thrust in to meet hers. Morgan’s body bucked with immediate arousal, and she felt herself get wet even as her cheeks flamed with self-consciousness for feeling such erotic need. Such… wanton lust she didn’t even know she could feel it this strongly.

  Diesel said nothing even as a moan was pulled out of her throat, muffled against his mouth. And for several long, utterly perfect seconds, he continued to kiss her senseless, making something hot and fierce tighten inside her core even as she reached up her hands to hold on to his shirt for a second.

  When he pulled away, she felt the immediate need to do it again.

  To feel even more of him. To come with him and feel him come with her, two people lost in pleasure.

  Even Diesel looked affected by the kiss. “I wasn’t going to let you talk yourself out of something you wanted. Even if you think it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Sometimes, the right thing is the scary thing,” she said, still lost in a haze of pure need, and Diesel nodded.

  She was about to get up out of the chair, to kiss him, when the creak of a door interrupted them.

  They both looked over and saw Grace rubbing her eyes as she appraised them with suspicion… and perhaps something else. “You two aren’t messing with my pumpkins, are you?”

  The immediate tension was broken, leaving Morgan hungrier than Wendell at feeding time, though not for food.

  Hungry for Diesel.

  And as she took Grace back to bed, her thoughts raced with Diesel’s sincere question.

  And at her own unexpected response to him.

  She wasn’t sure where this was going, but Morgan knew she couldn’t take back what had happened a minute ago.

  If just a kiss with him felt so explosive, so wonderful, what would “more” possibly look like?

  And how could she get it?

  9

  Diesel paused for a second as he leaned over one of the store soda refrigerators, his eyes quickly finding Morgan, who was at the cash register, smiling and talking to an older gentleman as she rang him up.

  Her eyes met his for a second before flickering away just as quickly.

  Odd.

  Last night had been a huge step forward for them. And to be honest, he couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss, the way fire had erupted throughout his body when their lips had met.

  He wanted to do it again, especially now that he was nearly certain that she was his mate. Hell, he wanted to go even further, and from the way she had reacted to him, she did too.

  But for some reason, he could feel her pulling away ever so slightly. Maybe it was just his imagination, but she had been extra busy this morning, and she wasn’t paying as much attention to him.

  He frowned.

  Had he done something wrong? Where did he go from here? He had been working extra hard to try and help her get everything fixed up and ready for Halloween, which was tomorrow.

  All throughout the store hung black and orange decorations, and jack-o’-lanterns sat on many of the shelves, grinning at shoppers as they passed by.

  Still, Diesel couldn’t help feeling a bit lost. He hadn’t really been thinking when he’d kissed her last night. He’d simply been acting on the fiery attraction between them, and now he needed advice.

  He could battle gargantuan, vicious monsters all day, every day. But courting a woman, and not only that but one with a child? This was far beyond him.

  And there was really only one person who could help.

  Once he was done tinkering with the fridge, he stepped outside, ready to send a message through the ground to Gunnar. Then he frowned.

  Ajax would be able to hear too, and Diesel wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with that.

  Phone it was, then.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed the number, holding it to his ear while he waited for the lead basilisk to pick up. After a few seconds, Diesel heard a deep, familiar voice.

  “Hello?” Gunnar came through on the other line.

  “Hey,” Diesel said.

  “How are things in town?” Gunnar asked, all business.

  “Fine. But that’s not what I called you for.” He lowered his voice. “I need to ask you about mates.”

  There was a pause. “Go on.”

  “I’ve… met someone. And I think she might be my mate.”

  “That’s good. What’s the problem?” Diesel could hear the confusion in Gunnar’s tone.

  Diesel paused. “I think she could be my mate, but I’ve been known to be wrong. And she has a child. What do I do?”

  A low whistle came across the line. “Same thing you would if she didn’t have young, I suppose.”

  “Which is…?”

  “Be protective, follow her around, and fight off anyone who doesn’t treat her like the queen she is. Show her you’re strong enough for both her and her child.”

  Diesel cocked his head to the side. He thought he had been doing pretty good at that so far.

  “Also, you need to—” Gunnar began to say more but was interrupted as the line went muffled and staticky. Then a feminine voice came across the call.

  It was Gunnar’s mate, April. “Was Gunnar just trying to give you dating advice?”

  “Maybe…”

  April sighed. “Have you tried just asking her out?”

  “Asking her out? What does that mean?”

  “Like ask her if she wants to go on a date with you. If she likes you, she’ll say yes.”

  “Okay, so what exactly is a date?” People talked about it frequently in TV and movies, but humans were so vague at times it was hard to keep things straight.

  “A date is when two people do something like get dinner together. You have to plan it out in advance and ask her to go,” April explained.

  That made sense.

  “What if she says no?” Diesel asked, frowning.

  April paused. “Well, then you respect her refusal. I’m sure she won’t say no, though.”

  Thinking about it, Diesel could see her point. Basilisks were incredibly strong and handsome, if he did say so himself.

  Plus, they had kissed, so that was something.

  Diesel was about to respond when he felt the ground tremble.

  April is right. Just remember, you can never be too protective, Gunnar admonished wisely.

  “I can feel the ground rumbling, Gunnar,” April said on the other side of the call. “Are you trying to talk to him without me?”