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My dragon huffed because I wasn’t taking any notice of him.

Minutes ago, River had been so close to me, his breath wafted over my face and I lost my senses and almost kissed him, only pulling away when I remembered he’d be gone soon. I was a fool for needing him, desperate to have him, not only in the kitchen, but in my bed and my life.

My hands shook so hard I couldn’t work the buttons, so I gripped the fabric and wrenched the shirt open. Buttons scattered across the floor. I didn’t care.

Kicking the remains of the shirt into a corner, I fell back onto the bed and glared at the ceiling. I needed to put my anger and frustration somewhere, so I blamed my client. If he hadn’t asked me for lunch, I wouldn’t have been wearing that freaking white shirt.

I tugged my hair before rolling onto my stomach and pummeling the bed with my feet, a habit I’d picked up from the girls. Why did this happen to me? Why couldn’t my mate have been a shifter? There’d be no explanations, because a shifter mate wouldn’t need them, and I wouldn’t have had to hide.

The day River arrived, the bond between us was a pull, an occasional tug that had me gasping and opening a window to get rid of his scent. But now it was razor sharp, as if it had teeth. It was becoming more difficult to hide the urge I tamped down when I was around him.

My dragon was trying to get my attention, but I put both hands over my ears, trying to block him out.

My mind drifted back to River with his chin against my chest, his fingers laced in mine, and his scent mingling with the pasta sauce. But something had been missing in that moment, and it was my beast. He’d spent years talking, telling me what to do and disagreeing with me. He was rarely quiet. But when River was close enough to kiss, he’d been silent.

Why didn’t you say something?

He admitted he’d choked. He was aching too and afraid River would never accept us.

I’d never told anyone I was lonely, I had no one to tell, no family other than my daughters, and I couldn’t open up to the dragon-shifter fathers I nodded to at the girls’ school. When I crept into bed at night, I stayed on one side, wishing the person I loved was on the other.

Making a choice to be a single dad and have the girls using a donor, IVF, and a surrogate was a decision I’d reached after months of research and grappling with whether I’d be a good dad. I chose to build this house and workshop for my family. I had my children and work and home in the one place and thought that was enough, until River rolled into my life with all his possessions on the back seat of his car. He was delighted with my children, a rare talent because they were boisterous, and he didn’t seem to be bothered when I was awkward or dashed away from him.

It didn’t help that River took everything in his stride and he was so damn capable. He fit in our home as if I’d cut a space for him with my chisel.

Slipping out of the house and making sure to avoid the squeaky step that would alert River I was coming downstairs, I drove off to my meeting while giving myself a lecture about lowering my defenses. What occurred in the kitchen couldn’t happen again.

During dinner, I concentrated on my daughters, asking them about school and telling River I’d do the nighttime routine. After reading the bedtime story, I needed to go to the workshop, a task that had always been enjoyable, but now that I wasn’t distracted by my daughters, River once again filled my head.

I thought of the seconds remaining, about six million or something until he left. I didn’t want to calculate the exact figure because that was more definite and it was final. I’d started counting to reassure myself I’d survive, but now, I didn’t want River’s stay to end. There was no arithmetic that could calculate me out of that.

“Night. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” I closed the door to Poppy’s room that had connecting doors to Wren’s on one side and Ivy’s on the other.

“If any bedbugs bite us, we’ll sleep with you, Daddy.” Poppy would carry out her threat and bring her sisters with her.

My plan was to creep down the stairs, no human would pick up my footsteps, and go to the workshop where I’d continue working. But I wanted tea, so I headed for the kitchen. Pausing at the door, I took in our manny with his earbuds in, bopping to music while sipping from his favorite mug.

This is good. Go in. Do it. My beast’s fingerprints were all over my insides.

I hesitated, thinking as River hadn’t heard me, I’d tiptoe to the back door. But he foiled my plan by spinning around and tearing off his headphones.

“Oh, I thought you were upstairs for the night.” He picked up the box of tea bags and waved it at me.

“I thought the same about you, and yes, I’ll have a tea, thanks.”

He boiled the kettle and conversation stood at a standstill. His scent was everywhere in the room, and even if I scuttled into the pantry, it was there too.

“I bought chocolate chip cookies if you’d like one.” He was already halfway to the pantry.

“Great. I love a sweet treat.” Oh gods, I was in my late thirties and that was the best line I could come up with?

We sat on either side of the table, and River dipped his cookie in his tea. But I made a face and he laughed, saying it wasn’t gross because his nan had done that.

“Really? Now you have chocolate chips floating in your tea.” I clutched my chest and grimaced.

“I’ve watched you every morning put peanut butter on the bottom of your toast because your taste buds are on the top of your tongue. And that’s just messy.”

“They are.” His sassy response had made me giddy, and I stuck out my tongue.