Her Guardian Shifter. Karen Whiddon

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Her Guardian Shifter - Karen Whiddon Mills & Boon Nocturne

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she nodded, aware once again they were skirting dangerously close to the edge of what was considered acceptable conversation.

      Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he nodded. It dawned on her he was clearly uncomfortable. “It’s been a while for me and...”

      “You can’t just leave Garth.”

      “Right. So I was wondering if you’d mind watching him for a few hours so I can change, too.”

      What she’d give to see him change, or to be more specific, to be there when he exchanged his animal form for that of a man. At the thought, a bolt of lust shot through her, so strong she nearly staggered. “Tonight?” she managed to ask. “Because I don’t know if I—”

      “No, not tonight.” One corner of his mouth tugged up in a tired smile. “I was thinking maybe tomorrow night, if that would be okay with you. If not, I’m open to whenever you can spare the time.”

      “Tomorrow should be fine.” Casual, she thought. She hoped she sounded casual. Not at all like a woman who wanted to pounce on him because she couldn’t help imagining being the one to greet him when he became human again, fully and gloriously aroused.

      In fact, she’d better get back to her own personal, private space before she did something foolish, like reach for him.

      “I really appreciate it, Julia.” He frowned. “Is it okay if I use your first name?”

      “My friends call me JJ,” she told him. “I’d rather you use that.”

      “I will.” Again the blinding smile. “I really appreciate all your help. Someday I hope I can repay you.”

      Oh, she knew exactly how he could repay her. Dang it. Swallowing hard, she managed to smile back.

      “Good night,” she said firmly, unlocking her door and stepping inside. Once she had it closed firmly behind her, she sagged against it, her entire body throbbing. Residue from the change, she told herself. Nothing to do with her tenant. Nothing to do with him at all. After the disastrous relationship with Shawn, she didn’t need to be wanting another man, not now. Maybe not ever.

      * * *

      In the morning, a phone call woke Eric. It was the moving company notifying him they’d be arriving the next afternoon, weather permitting. Finally, he’d be getting the few personal items he’d kept, along with Garth’s actual baby furniture. And his car. Most important, his beautiful car. Of course, the baby furniture was important, too, but if it had gotten damaged or lost, he could replace it. His car was irreplaceable.

      Things were starting to look up. Eric found himself waiting with barely concealed anticipation for the sun to go down so he could go into the woods alone and change.

      He’d have to be careful, though he’d actually chosen this town because they’d reportedly been tolerant, even kind, to the Drakkor woman they’d sheltered for years. She’d become a celebrity of sorts among paranormal creatures, dispensing wisdom and baked goods from her cottage on the shores of the lake. Another Drakkor and his shifter mate had also settled here. He planned to visit all three of them once he got settled, as long as they were open to visitors. Being bear, he felt a sense of kinship with other outcasts, other species of shifter who were rare and few and often reviled.

      When his family had left their small village in Norway, they’d chosen a town in California where other Vedjorn lived. Since most bear shifters mated with their own kind, they’d wanted their son to have the chance to find a mate.

      While he missed his parents tremendously, he was glad they hadn’t survived to see what kind of a mate he’d chosen. If he had his druthers, he’d never hook up with another bear shifter. And since most of the other shifters were afraid of the bears, he doubted he’d ever find another woman to mate with again.

      Which suited him just fine. Once had been enough. He had his son. As long as he could find a female who was open to recreational sex, he’d consider his life a happy one.

      For now, though, the only thing he needed to worry about was letting his inner beast free to run and hunt.

      Anticipation built in him as he waited for dusk. Somehow, his nervous pacing communicated to his son, rendering Garth unusually fussy. Even though he’d been changed and fed and burped, he started crying and wouldn’t be soothed. This had never happened before. Jiggling him, rocking him, speaking in a soothing tone over and over—none of it worked. In desperation, Eric searched the internet for a solution, but found only variations of what he already knew to do.

      Finally, little Garth cried himself to sleep.

      Exhausted, Eric quietly transferred his son to his temporary crib. Then he sat down with his head in his hands and tried to think.

      Teething? Again he hit the search engines and learned teething usually starts at six months, but can start as early as three.

      A soft tap at his door startled him. After a quick glance to make sure the sound hadn’t made Garth wake, he hurried to answer.

      “Is everything all right?” JJ murmured, as if she somehow knew the baby slept. She wore a flowing shirt and some sort of soft leggings that made her legs appear impossibly long.

      “It is now,” he said grimly, holding the door open and motioning her inside. “I couldn’t get him to stop crying. He actually cried himself to sleep.”

      “Is he sick?” she asked, sounding worried. “From here, he looks feverish. Have you taken his temperature?”

      That thought had never occurred to him. But then, Garth had only been sick once in his three months of life. Eric took comfort in the fact that his son was a full-blooded shape-shifter, and as such, only fire or silver could kill him. That could be both a curse and a blessing. He’d personally known a few people forced to live on in damaged bodies, enduring hell because they could not die. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

       Chapter 6

      Garth made a snuffling sound, drawing Eric’s attention. His son might be all bear, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t suffer from illness. A fever could easily be rectified, however. Eric fumbled in the baby bag he’d packed, finally locating the thermometer. It was brand-new, still in the wrapping. He’d purchased the forehead kind, not wanting to deal with a rectal one.

      Once he’d unwrapped it, he did a quick read of the instructions before swiping it over Garth’s tiny brow.

      “Ninety-nine point zero,” he said. “Just a little over normal.”

      “Nothing to worry about, I don’t think.” JJ spoke with authority, despite claiming to know next to nothing about caring for babies.

      “Maybe he’s teething,” she continued. “Is he drooling a lot?”

      “Yeah.” Eric hesitated, eyeing his sleeping son. “I don’t think I can leave him if he’s sick.” Inside, his beast roared in protest. “I’m thinking I probably should reschedule.”

      When he looked back up, Julia studied him, her head tilted. She appeared a bit shell-shocked, almost as if

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