The Billionaire Jaguar's Curvy Journalist: BBW Panther Shifter Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant Read Free Book Online Page B

pants. Perfect. Just perfect.
    “That was a shifter,” someone said.
    “Some kind of spotted animal—”
    “I didn’t think there were any around here—”
    The voices buzzed and crossed over one another. Everyone wanted to see the shifter. Very few of his fellow shifters were open about who they were. There was too much scrutiny. Too many questions. Too many people who would want to put them in a lab and take them apart to see how they ticked.
    He couldn’t do that. Not to himself, and not—
    Not to his brother. They hadn’t seen each other in years, but family was still family. If he wasn’t a shifter, everyone would still want a piece of him. And if he was—
    He hoped for Aaron’s case that he wasn’t.
    Abby was taking pictures. Paul hoped her camera would withstand the rain. She’d probably done this a hundred times before. She can take care of herself. You have enough problems.
    He looked down. He could still see his pants, at least.
    They were going to be muddy.
    He had no idea how he was going to explain all this to Abby.
    Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much; time passed differently when he was a cat. The world was no longer carefully sectioned into seconds and minutes. Everything was slower, smoother. Day slid gently into evening, then night. He knew it was a while, but it was hard to say how long.
    Eventually, people started leaving. First the boy in the ambulance, then some of the bystanders.
    Then Abby disappeared. It hurt a little, but the boy was what mattered. He couldn’t be anyone other than who he was. And he certainly couldn’t have a life on his conscience.
    The rain had lightened a little, though not enough to make it any drier. But the mist had eased a little, and he could see his sad, forlorn, muddy pants at the foot of the tree.
    It was probably dark and deserted enough that he could start making his way down. And at least he wouldn’t have to worry about holding his pants in his jaws.
    “Paul?” That was Abby’s voice in the distance. “Paul...I’ve got your shirt and your shoes. I...I can look for your pants if you need me to?” She sighed. “I mean, if you’re out here.” He could hear her shoes squelching in the mud. He’d more or less abandoned her. Her shoes were probably ruined.
    He’d screwed all this up, but what choice had he had?
    “If you’re out there—I’m not angry or anything. I wish you’d told me you were going to be back, but—if I’m not just talking to myself, or a wild animal, you were really brave.”
    That sent a shiver through his fur.
    “So...um, I’ve got your clothes. I’m not really sure what to do? Your car’s still on the bank, I think you’ve got the keys.”
    Oh. Shit. Of course. He made his way slowly down the tree. Her eyes went wide, and she stood very, very still.
    That won’t help you with a cat, he thought. He’d have t9o tell her. He got down on the ground. At least this way he was near his pants.
    You shouldn’t look at this, he thought. But he couldn’t figure out how to tell her that. At least it was getting dark and the mist was rising. He focused and changed. The human came out, his skin stretching and tightening. His breath came faster, and by the time he was on all fours, he was panting, sweat breaking on his skin. It was always harder to go to human. “I’m sorry,” he said, when his voice had returned. “I didn’t mean to—”
    “You saved his life,” Abby said. “They...they said that another minute might have—might have lost him.”
    “Have they—”
    “They’re treating him in case he’s got pneumonia,” she said. “His mom’s going to send me a text later, she said. And that whoever pulled him out of the river was a hero, and she’d like to make him a pie.”
    Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d feared.
    “Does she make good pies?”

9
     
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never had one. I mean, it’s a pie, can’t be that bad, right?”
    He laughed. “Yeah,