The Shifter Romances The Writer (Nocturne Falls Book 6) (23 page)

Unfortunately, he had no appetite. Hadn’t had one in days. Three days to be exact. He sat in the living room, staring at a baseball game on the television he didn’t really care about, and nursing a beer that was growing warmer by the minute. But the living room was a lot safer than the kitchen, and pretending to relax in front of the ball game was a good excuse not to talk. The other option was studying for the sergeant’s exam, but he didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate. No, the living room was the best place for him with his mother here.

Because Carmen Cruz was a force of nature. There was no point trying to stop her, whatever she was doing. Best to just get out of her way and hold on for dear life.

He sucked down a slug of the beer.

“You want another one, Alexito?” his mother called from the kitchen. She only called him that when she wanted him to do something for her, or she felt sorry for him. He was pretty sure it was the former right now, but would change to the later once she found out what had happened with Roxy.

Because she
would
find out.

He didn’t really want another beer. But he also wouldn’t mind numbing himself a little. “Sure.”

A minute later, she took the warm one out of his hand and replaced it with a cold one in a Howler’s neoprene coozie. Where she’d found that in his kitchen, he had no idea. She must have rummaged around. He didn’t care.

“There you go.” She stood there a moment. Waiting.

“Thanks.”

She didn’t move. Obviously, he was missing something. He looked up. “Yes?”

“Why don’t you invite your girlfriend over for dinner?”

And there it was. He shifted his gaze back to the game. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of your mother?”

Scared was more like it. He kept his eyes on the television. “Did you come here to see me or meet your favorite author?”

“Alex, that is no way to speak to your mother. Of course I came here to see you, but it would be nice for your girlfriend to meet me, don’t you think?” She put her hands on her hips. “And I’m making all this food so—”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Might as well nip this fantasy of hers in the bud. He took a long swallow of the beer. The cold brew slid down his throat but offered no relief to the ache inside him.

“What do you mean she’s not? Diego said—”

“Diego has no idea what’s going on. I told Roxy the truth about me, and she stopped talking to me. If you want someone to eat all that food, why don’t you call Diego and
his
new girlfriend, the barely legal waitress he shacked up with, and see if they’ll eat it? His address is on the sticky note on the fridge.” Alex put his beer on the side table and stood.

His mother backed up, but the gold fire in her eyes hadn’t diminished. Her beast was wound up. “Where are you going?”

“To take a shower.” He walked to his bedroom, closed the door and stripped down. A few moments later, he stood under the hot spray, letting the water beat on him and wishing he knew how to fix things between him and Roxy.

Or at least, how to make the pain of losing her go away.

Roxy wasn’t sure how many days had passed, but she knew it wasn’t enough to put a dent in the pain of betrayal and the awful humiliation she still felt. She couldn’t remember a time she’d hurt this much or felt this alone. Even marriage to Thomas hadn’t affected her this deeply. After all, she’d known before their first anniversary what a jerk he was. She’d expected the kind of treatment he gave her.

But from Delaney and Alex? She’d been blindsided. She wasn’t sure which one of them had surprised her the most. Delaney had a lot to answer for because she was the reason Roxy had moved here. And Alex…she shook her head. They’d just agreed to be completely honest with each other, then she’d tried to seduce him, and he still hadn’t said anything about Nocturne Falls being a haven for the paranormal or that he was a were-cat and Delaney was a vampire.

She paused on that thought. Was the paranormal real? Had they been telling her the truth? She was inclined to think they had been. Which was good, because it meant she wasn’t going crazy. But it also meant she had a lot to wrap her head around and she wasn’t even close to being there yet.

What she had fully arrived at was being a hot mess. She knew that. She sniffed and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. She’d been in the same pajamas for however long she’d been in the house. Hadn’t done a single sun salutation in days. Been living off whatever delivery this town had, which was mostly pizza, subs and Chinese. Fortunately, most of those things qualified as comfort foods. She’d even persuaded the pizza guy (with the promise of a big tip) to swing by the ice cream place and pick up a quart of Triple Chocolate Explosion, which was the most chocolaty ice cream they had, according to their website.

But what was worse than how she looked or the direction her diet had taken was that her book was also a mess. She’d tried to write, but every scene ended up going horribly off the rails as her feelings slipped through. Her tale of undying love between two soul mates had turned into a mish-mash of angry diatribes and bitter betrayal.

It would be career ending to turn something like that over to her readers, so she’d stopped trying. In fact, she was seriously thinking about postponing the book indefinitely. Or maybe writing something completely different. The only bright spot in the last few days had been that her divorce papers had finally arrived.
Signed
.

She was a free woman. Also miserable, friendless and woefully behind on her deadline, but free. Maybe Alex had helped that along by scaring Thomas into it, so she might owe him a little credit there. But not enough to answer his calls or texts.

Not yet.

She opened the fridge, not really hungry so much as looking for a way to distract herself. The pickings were slim. Some old house lo mein, a container of wonton soup, half an Italian cold cut and a box that held a couple slices of veggie pizza. Veggie. Because even miserable, she’d been thinking about her weight. A little.

“You are a sad, screwed-up woman, Roxy St. James.”

Too bad she hadn’t been thinking about her weight when she’d polished off the flan Alex had brought over, or the large box of truffles Delaney had left behind. Both of which she’d eaten in bed while watching old black-and-white movies.

Why hadn’t she been born in the age of old Hollywood? When times were simpler? She sighed and pulled out the box of pizza. She took out a slice, biting the point off the end. Heating it up took too much effort.

Her doorbell chimed. She had no idea what package this was, but she’d been ordering stuff online constantly in an attempt to never have to leave the house again. Hopefully, this delivery was the thirty-two pack of toilet paper, because that was going to become a necessity pretty soon, and running into Delaney or Alex at the Shop-n-Save wasn’t something she wanted to risk. They would want to talk—they’d both been trying repeatedly since she’d made them leave. But she wasn’t at the talking stage. And wasn’t sure she ever would be.

She shuffled to the door, thankful the UPS man had a drop-and-run policy, and opened it to collect her goods.

A small woman with black hair and a bright, familiar smile stood there, holding a large covered dish. “Hello there.”

“Hi.” If this was one of her neighbors coming to welcome her to the neighborhood, she really hoped that was a cake under that dome. Cake would be perfect right now. And actually, so would a little company that wasn’t Delaney or Alex.

The woman lifted the dish. “I’m Carmen. I thought you might like some
tres leches
. Do you know what that is?”

Roxy almost smiled. Almost. “Oh yeah, I know what
tres leches
is.” Her back teeth ached with the thought of all that gooey sweetness, and her soul cried out for the indulgence. She opened the door a little wider. “Come on in. I’m Roxy.”

“Nice to meet you, Roxy.” The woman’s voice had a happy little lilt to it. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting something?”

Roxy glanced down at her pajamas. “No, I, uh…I work from home, so these are sort of my work clothes. I wasn’t in bed or anything.” Although she could have been.

“I see.” Carmen came in. “I understand you just moved in not too long ago?”

“That’s right.” Roxy closed the door and walked with her to the kitchen, which wasn’t too much of a wreck thanks to eating so much takeout. “Do you live on this street?”

Carmen’s smile faltered a tiny bit. “I live a little south of you. It’s very nice of you to invite me in and also unexpected. If I had known you were going to do that, I would have brought some coffee. But I suppose you have coffee. It’s just the thing with
tres leches
.”

“I have plenty of coffee. Just the stuff you make in the machine, though. The stuff from the cups. Hard to drink a whole pot when you live alone.”

Carmen nodded. “My son got me one of those fancy machines for my birthday last year. He’s such a good boy. I haven’t figured out how to use it yet.”

Roxy laughed for the first time since
that
night. She took two mugs from the cabinet. “It’s not hard. Look, I’ll show you. You put the mug underneath, put the cup with the coffee in it in this part right here, then close the lid and hit Brew.”

Carmen paid close attention, then clapped her hands when the coffee started coming out. “That’s so easy! I can do that. You’re a good teacher.”

“There’s nothing to it, really.” Roxy handed her the second cup. “You make the next one.” While Carmen did that, Roxy got out small plates, two forks and a serving knife.

Coffee made, Carmen uncovered the cake, cut two generous slices and added them to the plates.

Roxy took one and her coffee to the kitchen table. Carmen followed. She sat across from Roxy and they both dug in.

The sugary sweetness caused Roxy’s cheeks to ache in the best possible way. The cake was a flavor bomb of pudding-moist milky goodness. “Oh man, that is amazing. You’re welcome to bring this cake over anytime.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” Carmen’s smile faded. “I have a confession to make. I never thought you’d invite me in. I was just going to bring you the cake, say hello, maybe talk to you a little, but now…”

Roxy sat up a little straighter. “If I’m keeping you from something—”

“It’s not that. It’s just…I feel like I’m not being truthful with you.”

Roxy snorted. Must be a Nocturne Falls thing. “Why? What aren’t you being truthful about?”

Carmen folded her hands together on the table, one on top of the other. “I’m not exactly your neighbor.”

Roxy frowned. “Then who are you?”

Carmen tried to smile again. “I’m Alex’s mother.”

Roxy put her fork down, the cake tasteless in her mouth.
Carmen
. Of course. The woman she’d signed a book for. “Did he send you over here?”

Carmen shook her head. “No, he’s in the shower. He has no idea I’m here. And he’ll be furious with me if he finds out. But when he told me what happened, I just had to come and talk to you. I knew if we could just have a chat, I could fix everything.”

Roxy pushed the cake away. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Please, Roxy, he’s a good boy. And he’s miserable that you won’t talk to him. I just hope you’ll give my son a second chance. He’s the best man I know.”

“Too bad he didn’t think I’d be strong enough, or like him enough, or whatever enough, to handle the truth about what he is. He was afraid telling me would stress me to my breaking point.” Delaney was really more to blame for that, but Alex had hurt her in a different way. Because she’d thought they had something. Because they’d agreed to be truthful with each other. “He lied to me. After promising me we would be upfront about everything.”

She crossed her arms and stared at his mother, almost challenging her to defend him. “I’m sorry, but accidentally finding out the guy you’re interested in has been holding back a major secret is no way to build a relationship.”

“What?” Carmen scowled in disapproval. “You found out he was a shifter accidentally?”

“Yes.” Roxy sighed. “But he was going to tell—”

“Unacceptable.” Carmen’s eyes flashed gold. “My son knows better than that. I am not happy with him.”

A pang of sympathy for Alex shot through Roxy. “It wasn’t entirely his fault. A friend of mine made him promise not to tell me.” Roxy exhaled and felt the fight—and the anger—go with it. Being this miserable was exhausting. She didn’t want to feel this way anymore. “She didn’t think I could handle it either.”