Page 10 of The Single Father Upstairs

Her head bobbled like one of those toys. “I met the new guy on the second floor.” Words streamed from her mouth. “And he has a cat.”

Oh no, Jon wouldn’t be pleased. He may as well perch in the trees all day, maybe take his bed up there.

“The cat got lost, and I found her and she’s orange.” Her voice rose a few decibels. “An orange cat, just like in the story you used to read to me. And the cat’s name is, ummm, I didn’t find out, and he said I could visit her any time I wanted as long as it's okay with you.”

Indigo took a breath and started telling me more about the animal, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I stood up as I pictured a grown man inviting my little daughter to his apartment.

Rip his head off.My bear was raging along with me, and he was surging under my skin, wanting to take his fur and teach the new tenant a lesson he’d never forget.

“I have to go back because I want to give her the toy I bought for Mrs. Munro’s cat.” Indigo raced into the bedroom.

“He said what?” I needed her to repeat it before I dashed out the door.

“To come and see the cat.” Her muffled voice came from under the bed.

“Stay in the apartment.” I didn’t mean to scare her, but she appeared at the bedroom door and the excitement had vanished from her eyes.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Just stay here. I mean it, Indigo. Don’t leave the apartment until I get back. Promise?” She mumbled her agreement, and I slammed the door behind me, taking the stairs three at a time.

In my head, I ran over the conversation I was about to have, except it would be one-sided and pretty short. Later I’d tell Jon the guy had to go, but I wavered about whether to involve the police who were human or mete out shifter justice which wouldn’t be pretty.

My bear was snarling and unwilling to let the guy say anything before he bled him.

I banged on the cat owner’s door, and it rattled, though my bear was telling me to break it down. And rather than wait for the guy to come to the door, I bashed it again, and it opened.

Oh, gods no.

We can’t take his head, my bear managed to get out.

We weren’t really going to decapitate him. Or were we?

But those thoughts were banished because his scent preceded him, and it snuffed out my anger. It was the same one I’d picked up in the courtyard and in the stairwell. Him, it was him, and he wasn’t just any man or any human. Oh my gods.

Seconds ago, he’d been a threat to my daughter and maybe he still was. Perhaps there’d be heartbreak in my future because I could never put my own happiness ahead of Indigo’s safety.

Mate. My bear only had that one word.

How did a human get to rent an apartment in this building?

He had one hand braced on the doorframe as if he hadn’t decided whether to open it further.

“Hi.” He looked me up and down, probably wondering why I’d almost beaten his door down. “You're Indigo’s dad. Did she ask for permission to visit my cat? I understand you’re probably wary, and I’d be concerned if you weren’t.”

I opened my mouth, but I’d lost the power of speech. He needed to stop talking, breathing, and just being.

“I’m Miles.” He rubbed the back of his neck. A cat, the same orange one Indigo had mentioned, wound itself around the guy’s legs. The animal bared her teeth, and I sensed she knew who I was.

But the mating instinct was so strong, I couldn’t do anything other than back away.

What are you doing? He’s our mate. I was doing the opposite of what I should be, according to my beast.

I stumbled into the corridor and headed for the woods. Indigo would be fine for thirty minutes, but I had to give my bear his fur and let him lumber through the trees and rage at me, Miles, and the world.

“Did I say something wrong?” His voice followed me outside, but I didn’t look back.

I had a mate and that should’ve been cause for celebration, but he was human and that presented complications. No, complications were for people who lived in different cities or when one liked a soft mattress and the other a hard one. He was human, and if I revealed who I was, he’d think it was fantasy. Or he’d think I’d lost my mind.