I’d grown up coming to the club. But together? Hardly. Chester was five years older, so most of our childhood had been him leading his group of friends to pick on mine. But okay, whatever.
I also didn’t understand why he’d need reservations. It wasn’t like the restaurant was ever over-full. It was a private club, and both our families were members.
“Come on, we’re through here,” Chester said, taking my hand and leading me around to a side entrance that led to one of the private dining rooms.
My pulse started to pick up, and not in a good way.
Crap. Chester had something planned.
And here I thought the surprise would be me breaking up with him.
But it had to be done.
He opened the door and put a hand on my back to usher me in.
“Surprise!”
A loud chorus of voices shouted at once, making me jump and scream.
The lights flipped on, and I blinked.
A large banner was strung across the far wall. Happy Engagement Chester and Rachel. No comma after engagement, which for some reason was the first thing I noticed. Not the actual words.
Because the actual words were… untrue. We weren’t engaged. He hadn’t asked. I definitely wouldn’t have said yes.
“Wh… what’s this?” My high-pitched voice sounded more like my mother’s than my own.
My parents, and Chester’s, and a bunch of random family friends all stood around the large table with broad smiles. There were presents in the middle like it was already our wedding night. Not that we were having a wedding night.
“It’s a surprise engagement party,” my mother explained, coming over and hugging me. Her familiar scent swirled around me, cloyingly sweet and heavy. “Isn’t it wonderful, dear?”
I tried to take a step back, but Chester’s hand at my back stopped me. “Um… but we’re not engaged,” I managed to say.
Chester pulled out a box, and dropped to one knee.
There were a few gasps, but all I saw was the box. The ring. It was big and gaudy. Something easily picked up in photos.
Oh no. Oh, crap. My stomach dropped. Panic made it feel like the walls were closing in.
“Chester, no.” I tried to stop him.
He looked up at me with an adoring, eager expression. “Rachel, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I shook my head. I’d gone along with everyone for so long, but I couldn’t do it now. Not here, not like this. This wasn’t what I wanted. Maybe I’d enabled everyone by not saying no before, but now I was.
“No. No way.”
I was able to back up, and I did. One step, then another.
Quickly.
I backed right up until I hit the closed door, then I reached behind my back and twisted the handle.
“This… um… I can’t… this is not, um…”
Torn between being the good girl who didn’t want to embarrass Chester, and my fury at him and my family for banking on that good girl saying yes for exactly that reason, I opted out of any explanation at all.
“I won’t marry you.”
I turned and ran, as fast as I could. From the life they had planned for me. The life I didn’t want.
1
CORD
Hunger was what took me to the diner for lunch. As usual, I’d lost track of time—between patients and my research, it was a common occurrence—and arrived well past the busy lunch rush. For such a small town, it was good to see all the business in West Springs. Locals—humans and shifters—took care of their own. As I settled into my usual booth in the corner, I breathed in the scents. Chili. Chicken pot pie. Vegetable soup. Fall had set in, the leaves past their peak and the trees were almost bare once again, which meant warm and comforting foods on the menu.
I hadn’t been in for a while, having been away for over a week at a medical conference in Texas, then tackling back-to-back patients to make up for lost time.
Something was different today. I took a deep breath and tried to figure it out. A new spice? Fruit pie? I noted hints of cinnamon and cherry. Perhaps Bessie had found a new recipe. My mouth watered, eager to try it. I was a confirmed bachelor in town, so Bessie ensured I ate well. Being the only doctor in West Springs, I kept the humans in town healthy, which kept me busy all hours of the day and night. Then there was my research into shifter DNA and gene mapping that distracted me.
Like now. I missed the blur of a woman as she pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen, followed by a clatter and breaking of dishes as they hit the floor. I winced and hoped only empty plates had been dropped instead of food that would be wasted.
A minute later, Bessie came out, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Seeing me in the corner, she offered me the usual smile and wave, then veered to the coffee pot. She came over with a mug and filled it to the brim.