Page 5 of Rubber Duckie Shifter Next Door

On the other side of the fence, things get suspiciously quiet. I need to go check on the kids, but I’m too busy gaping at the rubber duckie sitting on the porch where Sig was seconds ago.

What the actual fu…dge sticks? And look at me, censoring my thoughts like a good guardian!

I’ve gone insane, haven’t I?

I blink a few times.

Sig was just there! I swear he was. Wasn’t he? Deep breaths, Rachel!

I close my eyes and open them again. I don’t know what to expect to happen. For Sig to re-appear right where he was? For the phone and duckie to disappear, so I can convince myself I imagined the whole thing?

I can still picture him right there, his broad shoulders stretching his blue short-sleeved polo, his arm muscles bulging as he holds his phone up to his ear. He was right there. I swear he was.

Of course he wasn’t! Not unless there’s an alien running around town with a ray gun that turns people into bath toys.

And just like that, it all clicks.

Kids really can drive you crazy sometimes. As in literally insane. Because a hallucination… is the only reasonable explanation…

And the fact that it rhymes must mean I’m certifiable.

Chapter 3

Sig

I stare at Rachel from my vantage point on the porch steps. This cannot be happening…

Except it is.

I grimace. Internally, that is. Externally, I’m a quacking rubber duck. Not literally quacking. I can’t quack or talk in duckie form, and if I could, chances are I’d squeak. But until I shift back, I’m stuck in one spot, staring up at the beautiful, hyperventilating woman across the yard.

When I saw Rachel in Ada’s yard earlier, she looked cute in an I-just-got-out-of-bed sort of way. If it weren’t for the kids, I would have tried to seduce her out of her plaid pink pajama pants and white t-shirt. Then I would have wrapped my hand around her blonde ponytail and…

Pull your head out of the gutter, Duck!

I may not be able to spring a rubber boner, but this is still not the time. I need to focus on shifting back. But how am I supposed to focus on anything when the woman’s wearing shorts and a tank top that hug her tall, slim frame?

A tanned patch of skin peeks out just above her waistband, and my fingers itch with the need to touch her. Figure of speech, of course, since I’m in duckie form. But the need to drag Rachel upstairs and yank her pants down is driving me insane.

Fuck a duck, I’ve got it bad.

And poor Rachel has got it bad in an entirely different way. She’s hyperventilating, her beautiful hazel eyes are wide, and she’s gaping at me like she’s never seen a man shift into a rubber duck before.

Of course she hasn’t. She’s human!

She closes her eyes, opens them, closes them, opens them… over and over again, as though that will somehow change reality. And when it doesn’t, she spins around and races out of my yard.

Shift back, shift back, shift back!

I need to go after her before she packs the kids into Ada’s van and drives away without me.

Shift back, shift back, shift back!

It always takes forever after I’m startled, and this time is no different.

It feels like an eternity before I finally do. The magic returns me to my human form along with my clothes, so all that’s left is to grab my phone, shoot off a quick text, and go after her.

To my relief, I find her sitting on her back porch. But her head is between her knees and the kids are watching her with matching triumphant looks. I need to do something about that, too, but one problem at a time.