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Sher was the only person he could think of that would come back to his land. Zara was her child, and there was a connection there, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She may have given up her rights to Zara, but anyone could rethink that later. It was a worry of his when they were getting the divorce finalized.
She’d been too mellow about everything. Too calm for his liking. He expected her to get angry. He expected her to want something. Had she carried Zara for nine months and was willing to just give her up? No.
But she didn’t want that life to begin with, so why would she want it back?
Was it Sher? Was she rethinking wanting to be in Zara’s life? If that was the case, why didn’t she just talk to him? There was no need to stalk him.
It seemed when he thought of one question, several more formed. Everything was going to spiral.
“Hey.” Kirsten stepped forward, grabbing his shoulders. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ll catch the tiger before you know it. It’s probably something simple. Maybe it’s scared of you.”
It wasn’t, though. There was another tiger coming to his home, and he didn’t know why. It was dangerous, and it worried him to no end. He thought that Kirsten was safe inside, but he didn’t know if that was entirely true anymore.
He stared outside, hoping the tiger would just pop back up. He hoped it was something simple that he could solve, but his gut told him otherwise. If they just wanted to talk, they would have by now.
His mind kept wandering back to Sher, but he had one more solid reason she couldn’t be here. She was in Thailand. She had gone back to her roots, and she sounded determined to stay there.
You act like no one could change their mind over something like that. Henry, she had a child. A child. People don’t just walk away from that. She did, but what makes you think she would never want to come back?
His stomach twisted violently, and he started to pace. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
He looked at Kirsten. “I’m going out. I’ll be back before it gets dark. Don’t wait for me.”
She frowned at him, rubbing at her arm. It seemed she was just as nervous about everything as he was.
He pulled the door open and stepped outside. He took the fresh air in for a moment before he shifted and took off into the woods. He caught the scent of the other tiger quickly and followed it.
It took him through the woods everywhere, and he hated it. It didn’t go straight or give him a path. It kept crisscrossing, and soon he was going in circles.
He was getting nowhere fast, and he was growing tired. The day was starting to come to an end, and he finally had to stop. He wasn’t getting anywhere, and he needed to get back home. He stared out at the woods, feeling unsure about the future.
TWENTY
KIRSTEN
Life with Henry and Zara had been flowing smoothly, feeling a lot like a daydream with everything other than the presence of the strange tiger shifter. Kirsten could barely recall what her life was like before Henry and the baby. It was all just some outline for black and white, meant to be filled in with bursting color by the man she was falling for hard.
On a particularly snowy Friday, when the snow was so thin that it smacked wetly against the eavestrough, Henry finished his woodworking early and walked into the kitchen just as Kirsten started dinner.
It was a chilly, damp day, but Henry was wearing only a tank top and jeans, the top so tight it looked like it would burst into smithereens the second he flexed his abs.
He looked like an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch came to life.
“You can’t just stand around like that,” Kirsten muttered, biting her lower lip. “It’s very distracting.”
She was making meatloaf for them that night and was planning some delicious Tom Yum soup for the next day. Since she had shown up, Henry spent a lot less time working during the weekends. It was clear that he was already understanding her preferred love language, which was quality time spent together.
Henry grinned at her, throwing the hammer he was holding over his shoulder and flashing her an animated smolder. It was silly, but it still managed to make Kirsten sweat, his scruffiness and willingness to make himself a mockery.
“You joke, you joke,” she said, sliding the meal into the oven. “But one day, I’m going to slip and fall over, and you will feel guilty!”
Henry scoffed, then curled his lower lip like a cartoon. He then waltzed over to Kirsten, wrapping his strong arms around her waist as she stood up from the oven. He leaned into her neck, her most sensitive and delicious spot to tease beyond her hot, pulsing loins.
“You know I would never let that happen,” his sultry voice crooned.
Kirsten let out a groan. He truly made it difficult to focus on anything else when he was around. She was often thankful that he was so busy working during the week, or she would totally forget about her actual job.
His touch, voice, and entire essence made her melt like a dropped ice cream cone in July.
