Scarlet Disaster by Colette Rhodes

Chapter 4

“I have a suggestion,” Brooks announced, sitting on the sagging beige couch with his feet outstretched, flicking through images on his camera. “Let’s find a less shitty house to stay in.”

“No one is making you stay here,” Nate sniped as he all but paced back and forth in front of the television, glancing at his phone for the millionth time this week before shoving it back in his pocket. I had no idea what his problem was lately, but he’d been a miserable bastard these past few days. More miserable than usual, and nothing dragged Nate’s mood down more than when he came home to Alaska and pretended like he was happy to settle down here for the rest of his life.

“You need coffee, irmão,” I teased, bumping him with my shoulder as I squeezed past him to get into the tiny kitchen. Both Nate and Brooks trailed after me like lost puppies at the mention of caffeine, even though there was barely enough space for two of us in the kitchen, let alone three. It was a good thing that none of us were particularly enthusiastic cooks.

Well, perhaps not a good thing. Many of the restaurants here closed in the winter months because it was too quiet, and we were rapidly getting sick of our takeout options.

“Obviously no one is making us,” Brooks said exasperatedly, sitting down at the dining table with his eyes still trained on his camera. “I just don’t understand why we’re needlessly suffering.”

I understood why Brooks wanted to find somewhere else. There were three bedrooms in the cabin-style home, but they were barely big enough to contain a double bed each, considering the whole place was only 900 square feet. The living room was just big enough to house a three-seater couch, small coffee table, fireplace, and a wall-mounted TV. We couldn’t get through the kitchen door unless the dining table was pushed up against the wall.

Perhaps if we weren’t all such large men, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but we were big shifters and immensely uncomfortable in these cramped quarters.

Between the cramped quarters and the weather, I was beginning to question Nate’s sanity, and we’d only been here a week. The amount of snow that fell here was truly appalling, and I felt like the sun had retired from the sky, there were so few hours of daylight.

Just a few weeks ago, we had all been in Greece, relaxing in the sun all day. We’d spent months traveling through the country together before Nate had gone off on his own at the end and Brooks and I headed to Thessaloniki to collaborate on a train cemetery article for a travel magazine.

Being here was… definitely different.

“Why don’t you guys find somewhere bigger to rent?” Nate asked, bumping into me as he looked for the creamer for Brooks’ coffee while I added the grounds to the machine and switched it on. “You don’t have to stay here.”

“Well we’re hardly going to stay separately from you,” Brooks pointed out as though it was obvious, despite vocally denying we were a pack at every given opportunity.

I loved Brooks and Nate. They were my best friends, and I was closer to them than I was to my own brother, who still lived in Brazil. But they were idiots who constantly claimed to be loners, even though the three of us were a pack, albeit a strange, nomadic one.

“Then tough luck, I’ve rented this place for the whole winter,” Nate groused.

“Why not longer?” I challenged, leaning back against the counter as the machine percolated. “If you’re so happy to stay here forever, that is. Isn’t the plan to meet a nice shifter woman, put a mating mark on her neck and a baby in her belly?”

“No,” Nate shot back, shoving his hand through his hair. “Well, I don’t think so. Fuck, I don’t know. That’s what my parents want, but the whole concept makes me want to jump on the next plane out of here and never look back.”

“Amen to that, brother,” Brooks murmured before pointing his camera at Nate and taking a few shots that we both ignored. Brooks had been documenting our lives on film for a decade now, we barely noticed it most of the time. Why he wanted pictures of Nate looking like he was about to burst a blood vessel from stress, I had no idea.

“Then let’s go,” I replied with a shrug. “Wrap things up here and book a flight.”

Nate glowered at me, but I wasn’t about to support plans that so clearly made him miserable, even if he wanted me to. He was my packmate, and I wanted him to be happy. And with me and Brooks, where he belonged.

“Where are you guys heading to after this?” he asked as though he wouldn’t be coming with us.

“Somewhere warm,” Brooks said immediately, and I nodded my head in agreement. If I never saw snow again in my life, it would be too soon. “Though this wintery escape has made for some great images. If I ever get around to editing them, I think they’ll sell well.”

“Yeah?” Nate asked with a small smile. “Have you got your aurora shots yet?”

“Not yet,” I replied for Brooks, preparing the coffees and sliding Brooks’ across the table to him before downing half of mine in one go, barely noticing the heat and grimacing slightly at the flavor. I had never developed a taste for American-style drip coffee. “One of the sites we work with wants to do a sponsored piece, they’re trying to find the right partner for it. Something adventure-based.”

Brooks and I didn’t always collaborate on projects, but there were a few publications who were always willing to buy my articles as well as his photos since they made for a more cohesive narrative together.

Nate nodded thoughtfully. “You should probably get some decent gear if you’re going out exploring. Proper boots at least—even the hardware store around the corner sells them.”

“Don’t make me buy snow stuff, I’m not hanging around,” Brooks objected, sipping his drink before focusing on his camera again, flipping his chestnut hair out of his eyes. “I escaped the snow as soon as I could, and I have no desire to recreate anything from my childhood.”

I snorted. “Well, I will be investing in suitable footwear. And Nate and I are the same size, so I can always give them to him when I leave and he stays here forever, like he’s repeatedly told us he’s going to do.”

“Yup,” Nate agreed, dejectedly staring into his coffee cup. “That’s a great idea.”

Ai, Nate was truly his own worst enemy. I admired his dedication to doing what he believed was the right thing, even when what he believed was so obviously wrong.

“Ótimo. I’ll go get boots now. I can’t stand looking at these four walls anymore. Anyone want to come with me?” I asked, finishing my drink and rinsing out my cup.

“Nope,” Brooks said, popping the ‘p’. “I’m going to edit these and avoid the snow.”

“Then it’s going to be a long couple of months for you, irmão,” I laughed. “Especially if you hate this house. Nate, you coming with me?”

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket so fast I was surprised he didn’t rip his jeans. He’d been glued to it the entire week, even though the only people who ever seemed to contact him were his eldest brother and his mother, both inviting him for dinner.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I chuckled as Nate frowned at the screen, so absorbed in whatever he was looking at he didn’t even seem to realize I was talking.

“Girl trouble,” Brooks observed sagely, holding up his camera and examining Nate through the viewfinder. “Or at least I hope it is, because if Nate’s life here really is this boring, I’m going to start crying on his behalf.”

* * *

If Nate and Brooks just admitted we were a pack and had been for at least the past ten years, all of our lives would be so much easier, I grumbled internally as I trudged through the snow to the store, slipping in my impractical shoes. The bottom of my jeans were soaked and heavy, and my cable knit sweaters weren’t cutting it, even with my additional shifter body heat. Having cold wet socks had made my mood plummet. None of us even wanted to be here! Not even Nate. It was ludicrous to suffer this way.

For a decade, we’d argued about our pack status. We were unified on nearly every other issue, but on this one, we never seemed to agree. They were both so narrow minded when it came to this sort of thing—to them a pack had to have fixed territory, a leader and a hierarchy, and none of us were interested in that kind of life. Brooks, because he was traumatized by the pack he’d grown up in. Nate, because he had a wandering spirit and constantly craved alone time after his chaotic childhood. Me, just because I liked my job and seeing the world.

The mixed community of shifters I’d grown up in—in the Pantanal—had been good. Supportive. Loosely structured, but not overly hierarchical. I left because I preferred to explore, but I had no desire to be alone all the time. A pack was about its people, not its property.

Brooks didn’t want to be alone either, or he wouldn’t come with me all the time. Nate was more stubborn, but we always ended up reuniting in the end. My friends were good people with short-sighted visions of our future, but that was okay. We were all equals, but I would guide our pack through their denial.

I let myself into the hardware store, welcoming the blast of hot air. As soon as I got back, I was going to work on convincing Nate and Brooks that we should go back to the Phillipines for a few months so I could fucking defrost. Perhaps we could spend some time in Puerto Princesa—the underground river there had been on my ‘to-see list’ for years, and it would definitely give me some great content.

Nate would probably insist he was fine here, then join us in six weeks or so, pretending he hadn’t tried to move permanently back to Fairbanks again.

The store was small, a family-owned place and mostly empty, but I could hear two voices in the aisle next to mine, and the sweet huskiness of the woman’s voice immediately caught my attention.

There were a million chemical smells in the store that were offensive to my senses, but the sweet tempting scent of melted chocolate was vaguely present under all of them. I thought there was something familiar about it, but I couldn’t place what. Perhaps I was overthinking it and there was just chocolate in here somewhere.

“Little Lou, all grown up,” a man whistled, packing an impressive amount of lechery into one sentence.

“EJ,” the woman replied warily. “How have you been?”

Her cautious tone called to my protective instincts, and I moved to the end of the aisle where I had a clear line of sight over their conversation, pretending to examine paint brushes. I didn’t want to jump in and risk making the poor woman even more uncomfortable, but there was no one else in the store and I couldn’t help but keep an eye on the situation.

I’d like to blame it solely on my animal, but perhaps I was a little curious about the owner of that delightfully husky voice. The melted chocolate scent grew stronger the closer I got, and I began to suspect it belonged to her.

I was probably no better than this “EJ”, hovering here like this.

“Oh, you know, same old,” he said, waving his hand absently. Move, I growled silently, irritated that his wide frame and oily dark hair was blocking my view of her.“You’ve really taken care of yourself, you know. Damn. Lots of women just give up after high school. It’s a real shame.”

The guy sighed heavily and I grew even more still as I strained my ears, hoping I’d hear the sound of her palm cracking across his face. She could use me as an alibi, I wouldn’t mind.

“Yeah, it’s a real pity,” she deadpanned. “What’s your excuse?” There was an awkward pause before she added, “Kidding, kidding. Obviously.”

She most certainly was not kidding. I smiled to myself. I appreciated a snarky woman. After all, Oscar Wilde didn’t just say “sarcasm was the lowest form of wit.” He also called it “the highest form of intelligence.”

“Ha, yeah,” EJ replied awkwardly. “Funny.Don’t I get a hug? How have you been?”

What a creepy, revolting man. Should I intervene? My jaguar growled in my head, flicking his tail in irritation. I thought he’d rush to get away from this place with the chemical smells and the fluorescent lighting, but even my animal side wanted to be sure this woman was okay.

“Sorry,” she replied drily before I’d made up my mind. “I have this, um, disease that’s transmissible via hugs. I’d hate to give it to you.”

He immediately took half a step back, and I saw a flash of pale skin and dark red hair before the man’s body obscured her again.

“Ha, yeah. Wouldn’t want that… um, anyway, where have you been, Lou? I assumed you left town, it’s been so long.”

“I’ve been here.” She—Lou—didn’t bother elaborating, and I smiled to myself again at the cool politeness in her tone. “I need to paint my living room, I don’t suppose you could help me find the right stuff for the job?”

I took a few steps out into the main aisle, intending to find what I’d come here for. Despite the guy’s original creepiness, he wasn’t trying to touch her now and his tone was conversational. If I didn’t leave them to it, I was basically eavesdropping.

I dragged my feet though, the sound of their voices easily carrying in the empty store.

“It’d be my pleasure to help you, Lou. You, uh, got someone helping you with the job? I’d be more than happy to come and give you a hand. Little thing like you shouldn’t be tackling that on your own,” he said in what he probably thought was a charming voice.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Lou replied airily.

I paused in my awkward shuffle away, grabbing a bottle of something and pretending to examine it as I shamelessly listened in. The dating scene was more dire than I thought if this man’s version of a pickup line was implying she was a helpless woman who couldn’t wield a paint brush. If he wasn’t being such a creep, I’d be embarrassed for him.

“Really, I insist. I’ll sort you out with whatever you need, then I’ll bring it around to your place. I’m off this weekend, I can help you then. You can always come back to mine while your house airs out. I have a spare room, actually. You could stay a few days…”

I was moving before I even realized I was doing it, striding down the aisle and stepping silently around the blustering man, finally giving me an unobstructed view of the beautiful redheaded woman. She was a tiny thing, perhaps as tall as my chest, all bundled up in brightly colored winter clothes.

Her expression morphed from thinly veiled irritation to surprise as she took me in, full lips parting slightly, olive eyes widening, the hitch in her breath only audible to my sensitive ears.

Beautiful.

“There you are, querida,” I said, recovering from my momentary shock and flashing her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Find everything you need?”

“Just trying to pick the exact right shade of off-white,” she replied breathily, playing along with my lie. She sidled closer to me, just close enough that our jackets brushed. It was hardly a dramatic display of intimacy, but it was enough to make EJ take a step back. How grim that my presence had been more of a deterrent than Lou’s own words.

“Well, I’m sure this gentleman will be happy to assist us,” I told her, not breaking eye contact.

Her eyes were an earthy shade of greenish brown that reminded me of the wetlands where I’d grown up, and her hair was a vibrant dark red, standing out against her pale skin. She was beautiful, but also interesting to look at. Brooks would love to photograph her.

“Of course,” EJ said, sounding dejected. Good.

It seemed as though Lou was forcing herself to focus as he described the different brands and their suitability in a monotone voice, pointing out all the things to consider when painting in winter, before settling on an off-white color that EJ agreed to go mix at the counter, leaving us alone in the deserted aisle.

What had I come here for again? Something to do with hiking. Rope?

“Thank you,” Lou murmured once EJ was out of earshot.

“My pleasure,” I replied, before frowning. “Well, not really. In an ideal world, men would take a hint and beautiful damsels would never be in distress.”

“Mm, that should have been cheesy, but your accent could make anything sound sexy,” Lou laughed, a glorious raspy sound, while I preened silently to myself. “And yes, that would be an ideal world,” she agreed.

“My name is Gabriel,” I said, holding out my hand.

“Lou,” she replied, slipping her much smaller, softer hand into mine. Despite the heating in the store, her hands were still ice cold, and I barely resisted the urge to wrap her in my arms just to warm her up a little. “Nice to meet you. What brings you to Fairbanks?”

“Ah, I am staying for the winter with a friend of mine,” I told her with a fond smile, thinking of the either bored or sullen roommates I’d left back at the house. “I have visited him here before, but never this time of year. It’s snowier than I expected.”

Her lips twitched, olive eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh? You didn’t expect winter in Alaska to be so snowy?”

“Foolish of me, I know,” I laughed. “I usually spend my time in milder climates. Are you from here?” I asked, still chuckling. She smiled back at me almost shyly, and I grew even more curious at the mixture of biting sarcasm and sudden vulnerability.

“I am. Lived here my whole life.”

“You don’t sound thrilled about that,” I noted, thinking of Nate. They’d get along well, these two. He’d like her scent too.

“I keep meeting people who’ve seen the world lately, and I’m a little jealous. I’m going to travel though,” she said with a soft genuine smile that transformed her entire face. There was a far-off look in her eyes like she was already thinking of all the places she wanted to go. “But I need to get my house ready to sell,” she added, gesturing at the paint samples.

“Well, I certainly have time to kill if you need a hand, but I can also take no for an answer, unlike our friend over there,” I replied, mouth kicking up one side.

“I guess I could always give you my number…” Lou trailed off coyly, before looking a little surprised at herself for suggesting it. She was an enigma, this one. Confident one moment, shy the next.

“I’d like that,” I replied, pulling out my phone. “I firmly believe you can handle painting all on your own, but I am happy to help if you’d like me to. If not, there’s always dinner…”

I would only be here a couple of months at the most, but a winter fling with a beautiful woman certainly held appeal. Of course, I would be very honest with her that I was leaving, and if she wasn’t interested, that was fine. We’d have a fun dinner. No pressure.

I was certain I’d need a break from Nate and Brooks’ company soon anyway. That house was too small for all three of us to be spending so much time there.

Lou was definitely both Nate and Brooks’ type too, and I wondered how they’d feel if I started spending time with her. Lou would probably meet them and start dating one of them over me, given the choice. Nate had the brooding bad boy thing going on, and Brooks just had to smile and a phalanx of women appeared, throwing their panties at him. Perhaps I wouldn’t mention this little encounter to them so I could selfishly keep her to myself.

“I like dinner,” Lou said, accepting my phone and quickly typing in her number. She kept her head bowed, and I wondered if she was trying to hide her cheeks, which had flushed as red as her gorgeous hair. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d given me the wrong number.

“I better go pay,” she told me, handing my phone back. As Lou leaned in to give me my phone back, I caught another wave of her scent, and that nagging feeling that I’d picked up before came back with a vengeance.

“I’ll come with you. It might look a little strange if I didn’t,” I added with a wink.

“Very true. Come on, fake… friend? Fake boyfriend? Let’s go rub salt in EJ’s wound,” Lou replied with a saucy grin, her confidence suddenly back as she led me towards the counter.

I shot her my most seductive smile—not ashamed to be pulling out all the tricks to make an impression on this beautiful woman—before trailing after her, completely forgetting what I’d even come into this store for anyway.