Page 10 of The Dragon’s Accidental Manny

But they didn’t know the trick. As a dragon shifter, fire had never been my enemy. Fire was something you could use to mold glass into art, and people assumed the furnace was the whole story because that was what they saw.

And I worked it like any glassblower, especially with my assistants around. Alone, I had my own fire for the things a furnace couldn’t do, like reheating a piece as I turned it and coaxing a color until it was just right.

I had a meeting with a potential client, hence the suit, which went well, and after they left, I changed into my overalls. But I was acting like an apprentice when I scooped up the glass I didn't need, turned a pipe I wasn't watching, and let the molten blob sag and slide off the end onto the work bench with a slap. All the years of my hands being reliable and Cam had reduced me to a lovesick fool.

I pictured him in the house moving through the rooms and sitting in the courtyard, belonging within those walls as his scent did. Since my brother died, I’d devoted myself to raising his children. I’d decided that was enough, my life was full and complete, and I never considered dating or that fate might step in and give me a mate. Fate had played a disastrous role in my family’s life, and I’d wished I could get a court order making it stay away.

But fate had revealed its dominant trait, that of being unpredictable, when it brought Cam into our home.

“I can’t do this.” I couldn’t work under these conditions. The commission could wait. It was better to lose a day than ruin a piece because I couldn’t keep my mind on what I was supposed to be doing.

I banked the furnace and scrubbed the studio grime off my forearms. I studied the scars that wouldn’t fade. No glassblower worked without collecting burns. Hot glass looked like cold glass, and even the most careful reached for the wrong end of the pipe. A dragon shifter’s skin wasn’t fireproof, not in human form when my assistants were here and I couldn’t hide behind my beast’s scales. But it was tougher than a human’s, and a burn left a mark but didn’t maim.

Cam wasn’t expecting me until after lunch, but I needed to be with him, even if we were in separate areas of the house. Us being under the same roof was enough for now.

The house was quiet as I stood in the entryway, but Cam’s scent wafted around me and I inhaled it. My shifter hearing picked up the tapping on a keyboard in the courtyard.

Ohhh, that’s our favorite place, and he likes it too.

Cam had set up his computer under the umbrella with a jug of water beside him. He was frowning at the screen. I knew that look. He wasn’t happy with what he was working on. Meara had shared her new logo, thanks to Cam’s brilliant design, and Cam himself had asked if I was okay with him freelancing when the children were at school.

But my eyes were drawn to what he was wearing—or not wearing. He had on a pair of shorts, and his chest was bare. Sweat trickled over his skin, and my shifter eyesight picked up the droplets tumbling onto his lap. I shivered, something I rarely did.

He hadn’t seen me, and my dragon and I agreed that we’d burn the world down before we let anyone hurt him. Before Cam, only three people meant that much to me, and all of them were my kids.

“You’re home.” He leaped up and the chair crashed onto the stone floor. I picked it up and it survived, but Cam trying to destroy the furniture was becoming a habit.

Just buy more. My dragon didn’t care about money.

“Is everything okay? Are the children here? Jack didn’t jump off anything, did he?”

“It was a slow day and I left early.” I wasn’t going into details. “Keep working if that’s what you’re doing. You’re not on duty until the children’s pick-up time. How’s your ankle?”

“It’s fine.” He stretched out his foot that was attached to his bare leg that disappeared into his shorts. I fisted my hands, thinking I’d have to go into the garden and get a grip.

“I’m puzzling over a logo for a bakery. They want one that’s rustic but elevated.” He made a face. “Translated, they have no idea what they want.”

Cam put a hand to his chest and his eyes went wide. “Oh.” He fumbled for his T-shirt, but he was so clumsy, he stuck his head through an armhole. He made an odd squawking noise as he tried to untangle himself. I stood awkwardly wanting to help but was wary of putting my hands on him.

When he finally got the shirt on, his cheeks were pink with embarrassment.

“What do you do? I realized I have no clue what my boss does all day. And you’ve changed.” He pointed at my overalls.

“Glass.” That made me sound as though I installed windows. I turned my arms over without thinking, and Cam’s gaze went to the burns. “I make big glass installation pieces as well as vases and bowls.”

“Oh, you made the dragon in the playroom.”

I nodded. He’d seen it, which pleased me and my beast.

He eyed my scars again. “Must be dangerous.”

I didn’t want to get into how I worked, so I just muttered, “Sometimes.”

“But can I see? Not now but sometime?” He tugged at his tee. “Are you famous?”

“Not outside of art circles and private collectors, but I have pictures.” I pulled my phone out and leaned over his shoulder to swipe through the gallery. We were so close that his scent was making me dizzy.

Cam didn’t comment as a disinterested observer would. He didn’t use the word pretty or ask how I did that. But he zoomed in on the lip of a blue vessel where the color faded into something paler.