Lion's Lynx (Veteran Shifters 2)

Fortunately, she didn’t have to; she held his gaze for a long moment, then turned to dart off into the forest, running back to civilization, to her truck and her next client.

Even though her whole being yearned to stay back there in the woods with Ken.

***

The next morning, Ken woke up even earlier than he’d intended, while it was still dark. He’d slept restlessly, his eyes opening what seemed like every hour, because he’d dreamed that Lynn was there and he wanted to be awake to see her.

Finally, around four, he gave up sleep as a bad investment and decided to be up for the day. Only one more hour until she’d arrive.

A lynx. He’d been caught off-guard when she shifted, not expecting it at all. And then he’d been arrested by the beauty of her form. Those delicately tufted ears, that luxurious tail, the sleek spotted fur. She looked fierce, wild, and beautiful, like nothing could touch her.

Ken wanted to touch her.

He wanted to shift and run with her, to tussle on the forest floor. And then he wanted to shift back, and take her human form in his arms, run his hands over that soft skin, kiss those beautiful lips.

It was time to acknowledge the truth to himself. He’d fallen hard.

He hadn’t expected anything like this to happen. He’d thought he was too old, too set in his ways. Too used to flirtations and flings.

But no. He wanted Lynn with a fierce passion that outweighed any casual attraction he’d ever felt. And underlying that passion, somehow, was the desire to commit. He wanted to stay here with her, to learn everything there was to know about her, to support her, join her life.

He was shaken by the power of those feelings. He barely knew what to do with any emotions that strong.

But he was pretty sure they weren’t about to go away.

So he slept restlessly, and awoke with her name on his lips, and he waited as the dawn slowly crept into the sky.

He didn’t need to see her today for work. He’d practically admitted as much yesterday, wondering if she’d respond, Well, if there’s nothing I can help you with, why are you asking? Wondering if she’d rather stay away. He already knew that if she felt that way, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him straight out.

But she hadn’t. She’d met his eyes and agreed to come. Just to see him.

And then she’d shifted.

He’d never met a lynx shifter before. Didn’t know much about them, either. Were they rare? Did they keep to themselves? Did they have packs? Lynn didn’t seem to be part of a pack, or at least she’d never mentioned one.

You know hardly anything about her, he reminded himself. She’d mentioned her grandmother, and she’d talked about growing up in these forests and becoming a guide, but beyond that, he didn’t know anything about her life. She could have a whole crowd of lynx shifters living in the same house with her, and he’d have no idea.

Well, if she did, he’d get to know all of them and do his best to ingratiate himself.

But somehow, he doubted it.

Ken kept himself busy until she arrived by finding a creek and giving himself a quick, bracing outdoor shower, shaving, and otherwise making himself presentable.

Date night, he thought wryly. Or date morning, at least.

He flipped through his map, the one she’d annotated. She’d done such a good job, even quickly, that he wouldn’t necessarily need her guidance through the forest to other logging locations. He could follow a map without any trouble, and all the areas were now clearly marked.

But even aside from the fact that he wanted her company, she so obviously knew these woods like the back of her hand. That sort of understanding was invaluable to an environmental scientist. She’d already come out with little facts, off-the-cuff pieces of information about the wildlife or the plant species, that it would’ve taken him months to collect on his own.

Usually, it was a bit of a pain to spend enough time with local guides to learn all of their—always valuable—information. Because they usually hated bigshot big-city scientists, and weren’t at all keen on being told what to do, told that their information was incomplete, or told that any local lore might be wrong.

But on the other hand, as had already been amply proven with his map, bigshot environmental scientists weren’t always right, either.

Eventually, he’d killed enough time that the dawn was well on its way, and…yes, there was Lynn, coming down the slope. She was in human form, walking purposefully, with that powerful stride he’d come to recognize over the last few days. Ken felt sure that if he saw her from far away, from behind, and only had her movement to go on, he’d recognize her in an instant.

She slowed as she approached his little—camp was almost too strong a word. Since he was sleeping in his lion form, he didn’t need a tent or a sleeping bag, so really he just had his pack and his tools set up, only taking up a few square feet of the forest floor. He wished, suddenly, that he had somewhere more substantial to welcome her to. A chair to offer her, a kitchen to cook her breakfast with.

Lynn, of course, looked perfectly comfortable just among the trees, so maybe it didn’t matter. She was like him, Ken could tell—happier outside than in.