Moonlight Kin 2: Aidan's Mate (Mid-Length Novel) Page 3

  Jenna gritted her teeth. “I’ll get the car when I can.”

  * * * * *

  Her scent soured at the mention of her vehicle. Aidan watched her dig into her pocket and pull out a crumpled piece of paper with a number scribbled on it. Jenna picked up the phone and punched in the number. She tapped her fingers against the desk as she waited for someone to answer.

  He heard a woman come on the line.

  “May I please speak with Paul Welling?” Jenna asked.

  Sirens went off in his head. Aidan instantly recognized the name of the Gazette editor. Had Robert been right about her all along?

  “Hi, Mr. Welling. It’s Jenna Dane.”

  “Jenna, where have you been?” he asked. “I expected you here hours ago.”

  “I ran into car trouble.”

  “Where are you?” he sounded dubious.

  “I’m not sure.” Jenna looked at Aidan and mouthed ‘Where am I’?

  Aidan blinked. She didn’t know? How could she not know? “The Fortier estate,” he said casually, waiting for some sign of recognition to cross her face. None came. Jenna stared blankly at him. She had no idea who he was. Aidan’s tension eased a notch.

  “I’m outside of town,” she said.

  “If you’re not here in the next two hours, don’t bother coming,” Paul said.

  Jenna turned her back to Aidan and whispered into the phone, though she needn’t have bothered. Aidan had been listening to both sides of the conversation and didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about eavesdropping.

  “Please Mr. Welling. I need this job.” Her desperation was palpable.

  For some reason, Aidan found himself responding to it, to her.

  He slipped out of the room and summoned Robert. “Take Nic and go find her car.”

  “What do you want us to do with it once we find it?” he asked.

  “Bring it to me. Something is off about her and I want to know what it is. In the meantime, have the Range Rover brought around to the front of the house. She needs transportation.”

  Robert gaped. “You’re going to give the Rover to a human?”

  His hackles rose. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?”

  Robert’s gaze dropped. “No, sir.”

  “Good.” Aidan strolled back into the room in time to see Jenna wipe moisture from her face. The tears clinging to her eyelashes were the only evidence that remained to prove she’d been crying.

  She gave him a strained smile. “Thanks for the use of the phone.”

  “Anytime,” Aidan heard himself say.

  Jenna hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and walked to the door. Her hand hesitated on the knob. “I know it’s rude of me to ask, but you wouldn’t happen to have any tools I can borrow, would you?”

  “Tools?” What in the world did she need with tools?

  “Yeah, socket wrenches, pliers, things like that? I’ll give them back. I promise.”

  Intrigued by the request, Aidan asked, “What do you need them for?”

  “I thought maybe I could fix Stan,” she said.

  “Stan?” Who was Stan? And why was he just hearing about him? Unexpected anger flared inside of Aidan.

  Jenna laughed, oblivious to his mood change. “Stan is my car.”

  Aidan’s brow quirked. “You have a name for your car?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t you? I thought all guys did.”

  His eyes scrolled over the front of her T-shirt, taking in the soft slope of her full breasts. Aidan watched her nipples harden and tore his gaze away. “You are most definitely not a man,” he said in a garbled voice.

  Jenna crossed her arms over her chest. “I know, but it doesn’t stop me from naming cars—or fixing them.”

  “You’re a mechanic?” He’d assumed she was a reporter.

  “I used to be.” She bit her lip and looked away.

  His gaze was drawn to her mouth like a lodestone. Oh, the things he could do with those lips. The part of his body he refused to acknowledge, twitched behind his zipper.

  Aidan shook his head to clear it. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be thinking about her mouth or how her body responded to him. She was human. He shouldn’t be thinking about her at all.

  Jenna stared at him. “Do you have the tools or not?”

  Robert knocked on the door and stepped into the room. He scowled at Jenna, then handed the keys to Aidan and left.

  “You only have two hours to reach town. There’s no time to fix your vehicle.”

  “How did you know about--?”

  “Take these.” He handed her the keys to the Range Rover, effectively cutting off a question he could not answer. “My men will retrieve your car.”

  Jenna reached for the keys automatically. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I insist.” Aidan dropped them into her hand. “I’ll have your car repaired.”

  “No!” she snapped. “I mean it’s not necessary. You’ve done too much already. I can fix it myself.”

  Was she in trouble or was she worried about getting caught in a lie?

  Aidan opened his mouth to tell her that he’d do as he damn well pleased, but stopped when he glimpsed the panic in her eyes. “There’s a garage on the estate. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need there,” he said instead.

  “But…”

  He held up his hand. “No arguments. Your car will be there tomorrow.” What was he doing? Aidan had obviously lost his mind? Her and her stupid lilac smell was making him crazy. “I’ll show you to the front door.

  Aidan practically shoved her out of the room and down the hall. He needed to get Jenna away from his home and out of his head.

  Jenna trotted to keep up, but said nothing more. She climbed into the Rover, then turned to thank him again.

  Aidan didn’t give her the chance. He spun on his heel, and like prey evading a predator, bolted for the front door.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The drive to Breakbend took longer than Jenna thought. She’d overestimated the distance she’d driven and would never have made it to her new job by the end of the day had she continued walking.

  Jenna kept watch in the rearview mirror for any sign of Carl Rich. She might’ve changed vehicles, but she couldn’t afford to underestimate the private investigator her swindling ex had hired to find her. The man was doggedly persistent.

  Of course with millions riding upon obtaining her signature, Jenna wasn’t surprised. That kind of money would motivate anyone.

  Her fingers brushed the healing gash over her eyebrow and she winced. The wound reminded her just how close Carl had come to capturing her a week ago. She’d barely escaped his grasp. Jenna didn’t think she’d be as lucky next time.

  Carl had learned the hard way that she wasn’t a victim. She got some satisfaction from knowing that her swift kick had landed squarely in Carl’s crotch. If there was any justice in the world, his balls still ached.

  Breakbend trickled into view. Trees slowly gave way to frontier storefronts and trendy coffee shops. Some of the buildings looked original, but most were manufactured to appear ‘old’.

  A few high-end restaurants stood out amongst the mom and pop establishments, along with the usual array of fast food chains that invaded every town.

  Two billboards advertised a nearby lake that touted great fishing. The lake appeared to be Breakbend’s only claim to fame.

  The Breakbend Gazette had pride of place on the main drag, between a diner and a jewelry shop. She spotted a car pulling out of a space in front of the paper and quickly slid the Rover into the vacated spot.

  Jenna checked her appearance in the rearview mirror. If she’d been going for the deranged lion with mascara issues look, she’d be set. Unfortunately, she’d been going for ‘urban professional’, which wasn’t going to happen today. On the bright side, at least she’d stopped sweating.

  She fixed her face the best she could and rearranged her hair to hide the cut above her eyebrow, t
hen killed the engine. Jenna took a deep breath, then climbed out of the SUV. A bell clanged as she pushed the door open to the Breakbend Gazette.

  A receptionist sat near the entrance, filing her nails. Her orange floral print dress accentuated her wide hips and generous belly, while leaching color from her peachy complexion. A brown bob haircut stopped at her jawline, exposing her double chins.

  Her strategic position guarded the spattering of worn desks beyond. Most were empty, but a few still held what Jenna assumed were reporters. They varied in age from pimple-faced to geriatric.

  Jenna approached her desk.

  The receptionist wrinkled her nose. “Can I help you?”

  Jenna straightened the front of her sweat-stained shirt and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. The woman’s gaze shot to the bruised cut by her eyebrow.

  “I had an accident,” Jenna said.

  The woman’s gaze softened. “I understand.”

  No, she didn’t. No one could comprehend the hell Jenna had gone through these past three months.

  “Mr. Welling is expecting me.”

  “Name?” she asked.

  “Jenna Dane.”

  The receptionist’s eyes widened and her face transformed once more. “I’m Molly. Molly Jones.” She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. Welcome to the Breakbend Gazette,” she said, then swiveled her chair around and shouted toward a closed office door at the back of the small space. “Paul! Jenna’s here.”

  The door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. “Molly how many times have I told you not to shout for me? It’s unprofessional. Why do you think I installed that fancy phone system?” The closer Paul Welling got, the more rumpled he appeared. His suit had been new…in the seventies, along with his haircut.

  Jenna stepped forward to introduce herself.

  “It’s about time you got here.” He ignored her outstretched hand.

  “Sorry.” Jenna dropped her arm. “I had car trouble.”

  “Nice car.” Molly stared at the Range Rover, a devilish gleam in her eye. “Wish I had that kind of trouble.”

  So it was going to be like that, Jenna thought. Her lips thinned, but she didn’t say anything to Molly. She couldn’t afford to lose this job.

  Reporting for the Gazette was her big chance—her last chance to earn enough money to hire an attorney to fight Ethan.

  “It’s not mine,” Jenna said.

  “Whose is it?” Paul’s brown eyes narrowed. “I was under the impression that you were new to the area. If I find out that you’re lying to me, then you’re fired.”

  “I’m not. I’ve never been to Breakbend.” She’d never even heard of the town before answering the ad. “I broke down near the Fortier estate. A man named Aidan loaned me the SUV, until I can get my car repaired.”

  Molly gasped. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and stared at Jenna.

  She flustered. “What?”

  “Aidan Fortier?” Molly asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jenna said. “I didn’t catch his last name.”

  “Who else could it be?” Molly asked Paul.

  “There’s only one Aidan in the area,” he said.

  Molly shook her head. “I can’t believe he let you inside the estate.”

  Jenna was confused. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  Molly glared at her. “He never lets anyone in, aside from his employees. He’s very secretive.”

  Maybe no one had tried sitting in front of his gate and refusing to move. Jenna almost smiled as she recalled the look on everyone’s face, when she’d done so. Aidan hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat, but he had helped her. In Jenna’s book, that counted for a lot.

  “Is it true that he has wolf packs running around his property?” Molly asked.

  Jenna had seen one wolf, but not a pack. She decided to keep that information to herself. “Is he part of some kind of weird cult?”

  Molly waved her question aside. “No, nothing like that. He’s just peculiar.”

  One of the male reporters came over to where they stood. “I heard he was horribly disfigured and that’s why he’s rarely seen in public.”

  Jenna frowned. “Are we still talking about Aidan?” They couldn’t be referring to the gorgeous man she’d met.

  “Duh.” Molly rolled her eyes, as if she were dense. “Is it true he runs around in robes and has a harem?”

  Jenna snorted. “Where are you guys getting your information from?” Aidan had gone from eccentric wolf whisperer to a sheik in seconds.

  “Don’t laugh.” Molly grabbed her arm. “There are tons of rumors surrounding Aidan Fortier. Some people in these parts don’t think he’s human. They say he howls at the moon with his wolves.”

  The male reporter nodded in agreement. Paul Welling watched Jenna. She assumed he did so to see how she’d react.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “It’s no joke,” the male reporter said.

  Coming to Breakbend was obviously a mistake. These people were crazy. “You honestly believe Aidan’s a werewolf?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Molly said earnestly. “He’s probably a vampire. These parts attract creatures of the night.”

  Jenna waited for her to laugh.

  Molly didn’t.

  She looked at all the somber faces in the room. This had to be a prank. Why weren’t they laughing? They couldn’t all be delusional. Could they?

  Fear prickled the skin at the base of her neck. Jenna needed to defuse this situation before it got worse. If they honestly believed Aidan was some kind of monster, how long would it be before they convinced themselves that he should be hunted down and destroyed?

  “I assure you, Aidan’s as human as you or I.” Jenna extracted her arm from Molly’s grasp. She hoped whatever had made them crazy wasn’t catching.

  “Come into my office,” Paul said. “I’ll get you your paperwork and explain everything.”

  Jenna followed Paul Welling to the back of the small space. If anything, his office was even more dingy than the outer area.

  A scratched wooden desk sat in the center of the room. Piles of papers and a laptop covered much of the surface. An old office chair missing half of its padding rested behind the desk, while two folding chairs faced the front of it.

  “Take a seat.” Paul pointed to one of the folding chairs.

  Jenna perched on the edge of one, but didn’t settle in. She was afraid to after everything they’d said to her. How could these people believe all the crazy stories circulating about Aidan? Weren’t newspapers supposed to deal in facts?

  Paul typed a few keys on his laptop, then turned the screen toward her. “See this?”

  Jenna frowned. “What am I looking at?”

  “That’s all the information the world has on Aidan Fortier,” he said. “Pretty interesting given he’s a multi-millionaire, isn’t it?”

  “Not really. It’s common for wealthy people to keep a low profile for security reasons.” It was obvious Aidan had money. People didn’t get to live on a fortified estate without it. “Have you ever thought that maybe he likes his privacy? I know it’s a rarity in this world, but it does still occur on occasion.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he does.” Paul made it sound as if Aidan’s wishes were of no consequence. “The question is why?”

  “I’m sure there are a multitude of reasons,” she said.

  “Do you have any idea what an exclusive interview with the famous software developing recluse would fetch? A lot!” he said, before she could answer. “If we can’t get an interview, I’d settle for something scandalous like a photo of him howling at the moon.”

  Oh, is that all?

  She inched forward. “Do you really believe he’s a werewolf?”

  “Recluse, eccentric, werewolf, vampire, I don’t care what he is, as long as it helps me sell papers.”

  Okey, dokey. Jenna’s lips thinned. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking.

&n
bsp; “One page on Aidan Fortier would get us both out of this town and into the journalistic big leagues,” he said.

  Jenna didn’t care about the ‘big leagues’. All she wanted was to earn enough money to give Ethan a good legal fight.

  “I didn’t come here to write gossip pieces or fiction. Had I known that you’d have me looking for Bigfoot on my first day, I wouldn’t have bothered to apply for the job.”

  “Aidan Fortier isn’t Bigfoot,” Paul said.

  “Well he sure as heck isn’t a werewolf!” Jenna snapped. “What someone does with their spare time is none of our business, as long as they aren’t harming anyone.”

  She had experienced firsthand what lies and sensationalism could do to someone’s reputation. That had been the first blow Ethan Manning had struck after cheating her out of her garage.

  Instead of a David meets Goliath story, the press had sided with her ex and made her out to be a lying, thieving, gold-digger. Customers stopped bringing their cars in for repair long before Ethan put locks and chains on the doors.

  Jenna had managed to hang onto the land the garage had been built on, but if she didn’t get legal help soon, she’d lose it, too.

  “How dedicated are you to this job?” Paul asked.

  “What do you mean?” Jenna didn’t have enough cash to leave town.

  “I hired you, even though technically you didn’t have enough experience.”

  “Thank you again for giving me a chance.” It pained her to say those words.

  Paul sneered. “I don’t want your thanks. I want you to get an interview with Aidan Fortier or some information about his private life. If you do that, it would go a long way toward proving to me that you are committed. That you deserve this job,” he said. “I’d hate to think that I’d made a mistake by giving you the position.”

  “You haven’t.”

  “Then prove it!” He bellowed. “Reporting isn’t about being nice. It’s about uncovering the truth.”

  Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not talking about the truth. You’re talking about sensationalism and possible slander.”

  Paul leaned forward. “The truth comes in many forms. Some just pay better than others.”