Midnight Mate: A Paranormal Romance Standalone Read online

  Midnight Mate

  Heather Hildenbrand

  Midnight Mate

  By Heather Hildenbrand

  © 2019-2020

  Previously published as part of the Dark Moon Falls Boxed Set, titled Easton.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

  ISBN 9798642440421

  Cover design by Merry Book Round

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

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  1. Easton

  2. Cat

  3. Easton

  4. Cat

  5. Easton

  6. Cat

  7. Easton

  8. Cat

  9. Easton

  10. Cat

  11. Easton

  12. Cat

  13. Easton

  14. Easton

  15. Cat

  16. Easton

  17. Cat

  18. Easton

  19. Cat

  20. Easton

  21. Cat

  22. Easton

  23. Cat

  About the Author

  Also by Heather Hildenbrand

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  1

  Easton

  My mom waved from the screen door as I rolled to a stop beside her aging SUV. In the graying twilight, she looked older. Sad. I hesitated, but then she blinked, and the drawn lines were gone, replaced by a wide smile. I got out of the car as she descended the steps to meet me. She looked as fragile as glass if I looked closely—so I didn’t look. Instead, I hugged her tight and let her smooth my disheveled hair. I’d ridden for hours with the windows down, hoping the fresh air would do me good. But now that I was here, that familiar heaviness had already settled in my gut. And the scent that hung around this place—all of it added up to one thing.

  The feeling of home.

  Fuck, this was going to suck.

  “Easton. It’s so good to have you home.”

  I made some weird noise that wasn’t even English, but she didn’t care. Looping her arm through mine, she dragged me toward the house. “Come on. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  The question alone left a sour taste in my mouth.

  “Working late. He’ll be home soon.”

  I bit my tongue. We both knew he wasn’t working and he wouldn’t be home soon. But I’d lost that argument a long time ago.

  “Andy.” A goofy mutt greeted me at the door, tongue first. I laughed and bent low to let him slash his tongue across my arms and neck.

  “That’s enough, Andy.” My mom batted him away.

  “Good to see you, buddy.” I hoped my enthusiasm for the dog didn’t outshine my enthusiasm for her.

  “He’s still got more energy than any of us.” She led the way to the kitchen.

  I followed my mom down the hall, avoiding direct eye contact with a single family photo. If I was careful, maybe I wouldn’t notice I’d moved back. Then again, the brick in my stomach said otherwise.

  By the time I got to the kitchen, my leg had already started to ache. I settled on a barstool and watched as my mom set a brown glass bottle in front of me. I took it, swigged appreciatively, then set it down again, frowning as the taste of beer registered.

  “Used to be root beer you’d serve up while I watched you cook.”

  She offered a wry smile. “Times have changed, I guess.”

  “I guess.”

  I didn’t bother to tell her I rarely drank.

  She stirred the chili then eyed me. “So. How’s the knee?”

  “Temperamental.”

  She smirked. “I asked about the knee, not its owner.”

  “Very funny.”

  I took another swig then glanced around. The kitchen was bigger than I remembered. The Home Sweet Home sign above the sink was still there, though. As was the chip in the edge of the counter. I remembered that particular day like it was yesterday.

  I shuddered at the memory.

  “I read the medical notes you sent over,” Mom said, pulling me back to the moment. “Your doctor said you’ll recover fully as long as you stick to the therapy he recommended.”

  I grimaced.

  Physical therapy shouldn’t have been necessary for someone like me. Rehab and slow healing were for humans. But for some reason, at twenty-eight, my supernatural healing had decided to suddenly flake out. And now, the only docs in the world I could trust were those who knew what I really was. The universe had forced me back to the one place I said I’d never return. Fate was a cruel bitch.

  “I booked you the best in town, you know.”

  I looked up and found my mother watching me expectantly.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She beamed, and I knew my appreciation meant a lot. Which somehow made me feel even worse.

  Another swig.

  Steve would kill me if he saw me now. But Steve wasn’t here.

  “I’m happy to help. We both are.”

  Both. She meant Dad. I barely managed to hold in my snort.

  “Physical therapy starts first thing tomorrow,” she went on. “Here’s the information and your schedule.”

  She slid a sheet of paper toward me, and I read her elegant handwriting as it outlined my life for the next three months. Physical therapy three times a week at a sports rehab clinic in town.

  Ice baths once a day. Heat twice.

  It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Except that I was here. In the Falls. With him. And I might never snowboard again.

  My gaze caught on where she’d scrawled the therapist’s name, and I froze.

  Of course.

  Turning Point Therapy and Rehab.

  I should have known.

  And while I had no idea what to expect, showing up there after all this time, part of me was looking forward to it. Gene and Meg had done so much for me growing up. Catching up with them sounded nice. As long as they didn’t try to murder me for what I’d done to their daughter.

  “East?”

  I blinked and found Mom watching me, her fake happiness beginning to fade into something much more real. Concern. Worry. Fear.

  This was the version of her that broke my heart all those years ago. And it was still doing it right now.

  I took a deep breath, steeling myself against my own guilt. “Just making sure I know the plan.”

  “Of course.” A forced smile. One I remembered well.

  God, had it always been this strained?

  No, it had been worse.

  Denial made for a stiff rope between me and my mother. I’d prayed for years for that rope to snap. For her to wake up. Get out. But getting out was my thing. Staying was hers.

  “How are things in Breckenridge?” she asked.

  “Good.”

  “
And your apartment? Did your landlord give you any trouble about being away?”

  “No trouble.”

  “Your sponsors—”

  “They understand.”

  Silence fell.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay with us,” she said for the hundredth time.

  “I’ve already got a room booked in town.”

  Disappointment flickered across her tired features. I took another swig of beer.

  “Right. Well, I can pick you up and drive you in the morning. So you don’t have to figure it all out right away.”

  “I’ve got my truck, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” She turned away to stir the chili.

  My stomach growled loud enough for her human ears to hear it.

  “I was going to wait for your father, but it’s ready,” she offered reluctantly.

  My words held no such hesitation. “Let’s eat.”

  2

  Cat

  I flung the shower curtain aside, shivering, and yanked the towel off the rack. My chattering teeth made it hard to mutter the curses running through my mind, but I was a pro. “. . . Bullshit water tank. I pay enough to damn well deserve a God damn hot shower—”

  “Tell me how you really feel.”

  I shrieked and almost lost the towel.

  “Rudy, what the hell did I tell you about sneaking up on me?” I demanded.

  “I didn’t sneak. The door’s wide open, and I’m standing in the mother-loving hallway in plain sight.”

  Where Rudy was hesitant to spew profanity, I made up for it in spades.

  “I’m too damn cold to see that far.”

  He gaped at me. “Is that the explanation you want to go with here? That your body temperature has negatively impacted your eyesight?”

  “Do you really want to argue with a woman with frigid nipples?” I shot back.

  I watched as Rudy’s gaze dipped to my towel-covered chest. As expected, there wasn’t a single flicker of interest beyond mild curiosity—and maybe an attempt to rile me further.

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Prove it.”

  “Perv.” I shoved past him to my bedroom.

  He followed, as expected, because Rudy wasn’t a quitter. Not even when it came to pointless conversations. Especially then.

  “Look, I told you I called the landlord about the water heater. What else do you want from me?”

  I whirled to face him, one hand on my doorknob. “For starters, privacy.”

  Then, I shut the door in his face.

  “Real classy, Cat.”

  Guilt tugged at me but only for a minute. Rudy was my best friend, but he was a terrible roommate. Before we’d lived together, his laid back attitude had been a nice complement to my high-strung tendencies. But now, it meant taking six months to call in a repair or letting the dishes pile for days. Or until I did them. Still, he was always ready to lend an ear or a shoulder—of which I’d needed both lately.

  If we bickered more often recently, it was only because he let me take out my frustrations on him.

  And his heart was always in the right place.

  “Don’t wear the pink sweater with the blue pants,” he called through the door.

  I looked down, my mouth open and ready with an argument. When I realized I was putting on exactly that combo, I scowled and peeled the pants off again.

  “I’m not,” I yelled back.

  Rudy snickered and then retreated up the hall.

  Twenty minutes later, I emerged in black pants and a green sweater.

  Rudy looked up from the paper and arched a brow at my outfit.

  I stuck my tongue out at him, which only earned me the other brow.

  “It’s so strange that you don’t have a boyfriend, considering how mature you are,” he said.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend because you’ve already slept with all the decent men in town,” I shot back.

  “And some of the indecent ones, too.” He winked.

  I shook my head and went straight for the coffee.

  We read our sections of the paper in silence. Fashion for Rudy; Health and Wellness for me. The tiny town of Midnight Falls was a holdout when it came to things like online news. They still delivered a physical newspaper every morning, and I kind of liked that. Reading it always reminded me of my parents. In fact, there wasn’t much about my daily routine that didn’t trigger some memory of them. Especially now that I’d taken over the business.

  Noting the time, I hopped up. After another coffee refill, I grabbed my lunch of leftovers from the fridge and slid it into my dad’s old leather messenger bag. After nearly a year, I could wear it without tearing up.

  Travis had said it smelled funny, which still grated on me. Then again, there wasn’t much about Travis that didn’t piss me off these days.

  “You okay?” Rudy’s voice pulled me out of a deep reverie.

  “Huh? Yeah. Fine.”

  He set his paper aside, fully focused on me now. “Uh-uh. You know what fine stands for, don’t you?”

  “Freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotional,” we said in unison and then broke into matching smiles as we quoted our favorite movie line.

  “Italian Job re-watch tonight?” he asked as I stood up and grabbed my purse and a travel mug. “I’ll get takeout.”

  “Okay, but only if you promise not to shrink me.”

  “I’m not shrinking you.”

  “Fine. You’re New-Age-energifying me.”

  “That’s not even a real thing.”

  “Exactly. So stop doing it.”

  “I’ll stop when you stop.” Before I could respond, he added, “You can be ‘not fine.’ No, you should be ‘not fine.’ What Travis did—”

  “Rudy, do not tell me how I feel,” I warned.

  “If you don’t like it, maybe tell yourself how you feel. And try the truth this time.”

  I headed for the door, but Rudy wasn’t so easily discouraged.

  “He was a loser anyway,” he went on.

  “Bye,” I called back, wrenching open the front door and hurrying out.

  “He didn’t deserve you. My spirit guide says this was an important life lesson about picking unavailable guys who—”

  I slammed the door, effectively ending my morning session of unsolicited relationship therapy.

  ’Til tomorrow.

  3

  Easton

  I woke grumpy as hell, thanks to a full night of tossing and turning. My leg ached more than it had in days. Almost as if it, along with everything else, was working against me. Or maybe it was punishing me for actually stepping foot back in this town. Whatever the reason, the fact that it hadn’t healed yet was a mystery. One I intended to solve as soon as possible. Then, I was getting the hell out of Midnight Falls. Again.

  Downstairs, the crowded dining room of Nicole’s Bed and Breakfast only made me more antsy. The place itself was a local legend. Stories of ghosts and other supernatural activity brought in tourists year-round, provided the mountain roads were passable. The building’s design was half-gothic with its spires and gables and half-gingerbread house. The perfect blend of young and old, mysterious and modern. Fitting since that was an accurate description for Nicole, the owner.

  She could always be found with New Agey crystals hanging around her neck and romance book in her hands. Rumors had always swirled that she was an actual witch—likely considering how many there were in the Falls. But if she did practice, she kept it to herself.

  I’d only ever been inside the guest rooms as a teenager when I’d done some handyman stuff for her. Being a guest felt a little strange, but the accommodations were comfortable, and the food was fantastic.

  The thing that irritated me was the other guests.

  Tourists, each of them in brand-new hiking gear, sat around a long, polished wood table. Morning sunlight streamed through windows set against lacy curtains. Discussions ranged from the best hiking locations to the most “paranormal” restaurants. The rece
nt boom of various fantasy franchises in books and movies had lit up this town like a damn hotspot. Year-round, our hotels and bars were crammed with people hoping to catch a glimpse of a sparkly vamp. Then there were the hikers. Decked out in hot-off-the sale-rack boots and brand new packs stuffed with freeze-dried hummus packages.

  Idiots, all of them.

  Out of curiosity, I checked the shoes of the diners chatting away at the table. Sure enough, every one of their soles was clean as a whistle. Just off the rack. The worst way to hike was wearing new shoes. But everyone who came through the Falls learned that the hard way. And I wasn’t about to spoil tradition now.

  Swiping a coffee to go, I slipped out the door and headed to my appointment. Nicole’s was in the heart of downtown and only a couple blocks from my destination. I’d picked it so I could skip the drive, conserve gas money. It was the tradeoff for being able to afford the room while still paying rent on my empty apartment back in Colorado.

  Without snowboarding, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but so far, I’d been ignoring the possibility that this was permanent.

  Yes, money was tight until I figured it out. But there was no way I was staying at my parents’ house. My meager bank account would have to accommodate.

  By the time I reached Turning Point, I was limping. Tossing my half-empty coffee into the garbage, I gripped the railing until my knuckles turned white, pulled the front door open, and stepped inside.

  Gone were the earth tones and camping photos Gene had tacked to the walls when I was a kid. Instead, cool greens and blues greeted me—walls the color of a calm sea, photos of grassy fields, plump pillows set against love seats and rocking chairs. It felt relaxing.