Prologue
Justin silently watched as another of his brothers got married. He considered himself the last triplet standing. Ironically, while growing up he was the one who couldn’t wait to be mated and start a family. Which meant his bonehead brothers, no offense intended, had found their other halves first. Wasn’t that just the way of the world? He watched as the newly married Blake spun his mate Delilah around the dance floor during their first song, Stevie Wonder’s, ‘Signed, Sealed, Delivered.’
A little voice interrupted his moody internal dialogue. “Mister Justin, can you come help me? I was playing with a little boy, he’s four, and he fell. His knee hurts, Mister Justin.”
Crouching to Trevor’s level, Justin laughed to himself because Trevor was six and if you were even days younger than him he considered you little. In all fairness, Trevor was blessed, or cursed, however you wanted to look at it, with the gift of sight. He’d had it all his life and was trying desperately to find a balance with what to tell people about the future and what to hold in. He might only be six, but it was an old six. Justin knew from experience how that sort of ability and responsibility could shape a young boy. He’d been born a natural healer, able to take pain of others into himself so they didn’t feel it and able to help wounds heal much faster, at a small cost to his own health.
The voice interrupted his inner musings again. “Mister Justin…”
“I’m sorry, Trev, of course I’ll help your new friend. Just lead on brave soldier and I’ll follow you.” He stood up as Trevor took his hand and led him to the corner of the room near the cake table. Sitting there was a small boy with dirty brown hair and frosting smeared all over his face.
“Uh oh, someone got into the cake a little early, huh? Trevor, I know you ate some cake too, so go wash your hands or your parents will get mad. Don’t forget to bring me back a washcloth for this lil’ guys face, will ya?”
Trevor ran off in the direction of the bathroom to do as Justin said. Justin crouched down, approaching the boy slowly. “Hi, my name is Justin, what’s your name?”
The boy pushed farther into the corner, his brown hair shaking back and forth over his forehead, while he whimpered and clutched his knee. His eyes were wide and innocent, but held a smidge of fear. Obviously, his mother was smart and taught him stranger danger. It was inconvenient right now, but a good thing to know otherwise.
Justin came a foot closer. “I won’t hurt you lil’ guy, I help people feel better.”
He was now close enough to pick up a scent that clung to the boy’s clothes. Mango. The child didn’t smell like mango, but the sweet scent was faint on his clothes. Wow, he was instantly awake and alert. Why did such a common scent lingering on this little kid send his senses into overdrive? Could it be the scent of his future mate?
“Move away from my son.”
Holy moly, that voice. God, it was like cold butter on a warm biscuit, a nice cool beer on a hot summer day, and a thousand fingers massaging his entire body at the same time. If the kid weren’t right in front of him he might have shot a load into his tux.
“I said, move away from my son. Please.”
One minute he was crouched in front of the kid and the next he was on his ass looking up the skirt of a fine looking woman. Her hair might have been a dull brown, but her eyes were amber and had the most beautiful almond shape. Her hair appeared to be kissing her shoulders and was just as straight as her sons. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent deep into his lungs; well, I’ll be darned. Her perfume was…overwhelming. Some mix of flowers that didn’t enhance her natural scent at all. In fact, it was so unpleasant he sneezed.
“I was just trying to make him feel better.”
She moved closer and shot him an annoyed look full of a hefty side of disbelief. What did she think he was some sort of child molester? Trevor chose that moment to run up to Justin and throw a soaking wet wad of paper towels at him. He jumped when the towels hit his groin, soaking into his pants.
“Here ya go, now you can clean up the evidence.”
The intriguing woman stepped in front of the boy and hissed, an actual hiss like she was a cat and he was annoying her. She followed her hiss with, “I think it’s time we go, Carter.”
Bending over, she gave him an enticing view of her tight backside followed by another quick whiff of her scent. He sneezed and pulled back in disgust. She must have bathed in a floral perfume: so much that he couldn’t even smell her natural scent. His nose burned, causing him to sneeze again and back away.
Her son whimpered as she attempted to pick him up, so Justin pulled the wet paper towels out of his now soaked lap and approached slowly on his knees. “Hi, Carter, I’m Justin,” he turned to the woman, “and you are?”