Fated To The Soldier Fox (Special Ops Shifters: Dallas Force Book 3)

by Meg Ripley

  “I can try, anyway. I’m not sure if I’ll be any good working alongside you.” He kept his arm around her waist as they walked down the hall of the headquarters together. “You’re very distracting.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep it that way,” she assured him with a smile.

  Just outside the doors to the conference room, Jack paused and turned Erica to face him. Those caramel eyes searched hers, remnants of his wild side seeping through as he searched for truth. “Erica, are you sure you don’t mind leaving the DHS? Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re going to be great here. I just want to make sure you’re happy more than anything.”

  She sighed her content. Even in this form, and even when she wasn’t actively reaching out to find the vibration that was so distinctly him, she could feel the smallest touch of his mind to hers. It was a comfort and a pleasant reminder that she wasn’t alone, like holding someone’s hand without really thinking about it. “I am happy,” she assured him. “I’m excited to see what I can do as a consultant for the SOS Force. There’s so much that I still have to learn about the world and about myself, things I never would’ve figured out if I’d just stayed in the same old rut. And I’m thinking about expanding this little gig into my very own business.”

  “Really? Does that mean…?” He let the question hang in the air.

  “Yes. I’ll fully advertise myself for what I truly am. There are plenty of people who pretend to be psychics just so they can give out common sense relationship advice and make a few bucks on it. Why not charge into the world as the real deal?” She’d considered it a lot after she’d turned in her resignation, knowing she could never go back to the way things were. Erica had changed on a deep level, and even though her work with the DHS was important, she had a feeling there were even bigger and better things in store for her.

  With all thoughts of professionalism out the window for the moment, Jack tucked her in close and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m proud of you, Erica. I was fortunate enough to find my place in the world with these guys, and you deserve something like that, too. I love you.”

  “I know,” she said with a grin. They’d said it constantly to each other, and it had yet to get old. “I love you, too. Now let’s get in there and see what I can do for you.”

  Jack opened the conference room door. Erica straightened her shoulders and walked in, ready for the next chapter of her life. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Her powers would be exposed, and she’d no doubt draw ridicule from those who didn’t believe. She had Jack at her side, though, and that was all she needed.

  THE END

  Vance

  Vance leaned on the fence, watching the last of the rodeo wind down. A dusty wind kicked up, carrying with it the scent of horses, cattle, and corndogs. This was one of the first shows of the season, and he was looking forward to more.

  “Hey, good lookin’.”

  He turned to see a girl standing next to him. Vance was pretty sure he’d seen her before, hanging around the bull riders. Her tight black tank top sported the Cruel Girl logo above a shiny belt buckle that she definitely hadn’t earned. Considering how clean and stiff her boots were, Vance doubted she was the type of woman who knew her way around the ranch.

  Vance touched the brim of his hat. “Howdy.”

  “You come here often?” she asked, batting a set of fake eyelashes.

  More often than she did, that was for sure. Vance could see right through her. She was what those in the business called a buckle bunny. Most likely, she’d never pitched hay, cleaned a hoof, or been bucked off a horse, but she wanted to pretend she had just to pick up guys in tight jeans. Vance knew her type, but he also knew he could be just as shallow.

  “All the time. The name’s Vance.”

  The girl let out a ridiculous giggle that was cut off by the horn. “My name’s Brooke. Do you compete?”

  “I just have a few friends in the business. I raise cattle, but you won’t see any of them here.” In fact, Vance’s cattle were well known for their quality beef. He’d been tempted to switch over a small amount of his herd and see what he might be able to make on a good mean bull, the kind that all the showoffs were terrified of, but he was too busy to manage two different aspects of the business. His work with the Special Ops Shifters’ Dallas Force took up enough of his time as it was without having a whole other market to worry about.

  Those eyelashes fluttered again as she ran her gaze across his arms. “I guess all that work makes you pretty strong, huh?”

  Well, damn. Vance had plenty to do that night when he got back home, but some of his chores might just have to wait, depending on how far she wanted to take this. “Strong enough, I reckon.”

  Brooke giggled again, and this time, she dared to run her fingers down his sleeve. “You know, I could really use a beer. How about you?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Vance turned and made his way through the crowd toward the beer tent, shaking his head at how easy it was sometimes. The other guys complained—or at least some of them did, before they decided to settle down—but Vance knew you just had to look for the right opportunities. There were plenty of women out there, and they weren’t all looking for a deep commitment. Girls like Brooke were a dime a dozen. They’d have a good time, and when Vance never called her again, she’d complain to her girlfriends and move on to someone else.

  He was just trying to decide if he was willing to take Brooke back to his place as they stepped up to the back of the line. Someone tapped his shoulder, and Vance turned to find himself staring into a set of very serious blue-gray eyes.

  “Vance Morris?” she asked. Her sandy hair, the strands varying shades of everything from the palest platinum to the deepest honey, was tied back in a thick but loose braid. Her plaid button-down was tucked into her Wranglers, which bore faint dust stains on the thighs. She was vaguely familiar.

  “You’re looking at ‘im.” Vance tried to place her. He knew he’d seen her somewhere before. Clearly, his cougar recognized her. The animal inside him, if he were to let it out, would be walking slow circles around this woman. It sensed a familiar beast inside her, which wasn’t always a good combination for solitary cougars.

  Her manner was much more professional than Brooke’s had been as she extended her hand. “Delilah Henderson. I believe we’ve met before.”

  Shit. They sure had.

  “Excuse me, but we’re kind of busy.” Brooke looped her arm through Vance’s elbow and tucked herself in close to his body.

  It was a bold move for someone who was practically a stranger, but Vance wasn’t surprised. He didn’t exactly mind it, either, but Brooke wasn’t going to get her way, no matter how much she fluttered her eyelashes or how tight her clothes were. Vance extracted his arm from Brooke’s grip. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to owe you a beer some other time. I’ve got some business to take care of.”

  Brooke stuck out her lower lip, but her eyes didn’t show even the gleam of tears. “Come on, Vance. You promised.”

  “Another time,” he repeated as he stepped out of line and headed off toward the horse trailers. He sensed Delilah walking next to him more than he actually saw her. Now that he knew she was there, Vance figured there was no getting away. A woman like her wouldn’t take no for an answer. He rubbed his hand along his jaw as they stepped into the shadows.

  “I figured I’d find you here.” Delilah folded her arms in front of her, continuing to give him that look. Her lids hooded her eyes, making it hard to tell if she was amused or grim. The Vice President of the Dallas shifter conclave looked far more calm than Vance felt, but the tremble of her pulse in her throat told him maybe she wasn’t as unruffled as she wanted to make it seem.

  Vance glanced over his shoulder to make sure Brooke hadn’t tried to follow them. “Not a surprise to find me here at all, but I have to say I’m not sure what brings you into a place like this.”

  * * *

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  Here’s what’s available in the Special Ops Shifters: Dallas Force series:

  Rescued By The Soldier Bear

  Protected By The Soldier Tiger

  Fated To The Soldier Fox

  Baby For The Soldier Cougar (pre-order for May 8, 2020)

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  Have you read book 1 of the Special Ops Shifters: Dallas Force series? If not, here’s a preview…

  1

  Ash leaned forward over the bathroom sink, trying to get a better look at the gray hairs that were slowly making themselves known at his temples. The light was dim and yellow, making it difficult, and he gave up with a sweep of his hand. He considered a shave but decided against it, then grabbed a coat and headed downstairs.

  “Where are you off to today?” Old Jim was a well-known resident in this part of Fairbanks, and even though Ash had only been living there for a few months, he was starting to think of the old geezer as one of his good friends. Jim sat in a chair in the corner of the small lobby of the apartment building, which served as nothing more than a place to pick up mail and maybe harass the landlord about a frozen pipe. The elderly man seemed to take incredible delight in seeing the comings and goings of his neighbors, and Ash couldn’t help but indulge him.

  “Just going to look at another property,” he replied as he shrugged into his green Berne work coat. He was never a man who minded the frigid weather, but it seemed a necessity if he was going to spend the rest of his life in a place like Alaska.

  Jim squinted, making his narrow eyes little more than slits. “Ain’t you already done that?”

  Ash laughed. “Yes, and more times than I’d like to admit. Probably more times than my real estate agent would like to admit, too.”

  “Might as well just settle down right here in Fairbanks. We’ve got it all, you know. No need to go anywhere else.” He made a grand gesture with a wrinkled hand to indicate the entire city, as though it was Jim’s to offer. “Many a man has made himself rich here, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Ash swiped a hand over his face to hide his amused smile. Jim claimed to be an ancestor of E.T. Barnette, who founded Fairbanks in 1901. Perhaps because of the DNA he felt he shared with such an important man, Jim took it upon his shoulders to educate everyone who happened to come within speaking distance. And he usually didn’t stop at just one rendition. Ash had heard the stories about a hundred times already, and his friendliness and patience could only go so far. “I think I need something a little further outside the city, though. I’m heading out to look at a big ranch today.”

  Jim nodded slowly, his gray mustache twitching as he muddled over his next words. “You know, I had a ranch once.”

  Oh, no, Ash thought. Here he goes again. If he would’ve allowed him to keep rambling, he’d be late. “I’ll have to catch up with you about that later, Jim. I don’t want to be late, and you know how it is traveling around here.” Ash waved goodbye as he trotted out the door to his truck.

  An hour later, he was standing at the end of a driveway looking at an impressive log cabin. The mountains in the distance gave a stark but gorgeous contrast to the flat land of the parcel, where the ground was brilliant green with the beginnings of a crop. Ash wished he knew enough to recognize what it was, but at the moment, it simply looked like a verdant carpet that stretched off into the distance toward a massive metal building.

  “It’s currently being operated as a very successful cattle ranch,” explained Mr. Larson, pushing back his sport coat to tuck his thumbs into the front pocket of his jeans. He was dressed like many of the professionals Ash had met during his time in Alaska, who wore button-down shirts, ties, and sport coats over their jeans and boots. “I think it’s just what you’re looking for. Natural water source, flat land, highway access—and you know how important that can be in this area if you don’t own your own plane. Note the equipment shed right over there. It comes complete with everything you need since the owners are retiring and moving to the city. All your tractors and mowers and everything else!”

  Ash felt a deep wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. The place was beautiful; there was no doubt about it. It felt more right than the other properties he’d looked at before, but it was still missing something. “Yeah… I don’t know.”

  “Of course you don’t!” Mr. Larson enthused, throwing his hands up in the air. “We’ve hardly even looked at the place. C’mon.” He led the way up to the house, where he fiddled with a lock box for a moment until he could get the door open. “This place is just magnificent. I know when you think of a ranch, you’re picturing some bare-bones, barely livable tin shack. But clearly, the Alaskan wilderness has far more to offer than that! Check out this beautiful double-sided fireplace that serves both the living room and the kitchen with this open floor plan.”

  “Yes, it’s very nice.” Ash turned toward a large window to check out the view, but also to roll his eyes. Mr. Larson had been recommended as one of the best realtors in the area, but he reminded Ash of a sleazy car salesman. “I’m not sure I need a home this big, though. It’s just me.”

  “You never know what your future might hold. A beautiful bride, perhaps? One who would surely appreciate the granite countertops and radiant heating in the floors.” He combed his thick mustache with his fingers and waggled his eyebrows.

  “Mm. Doubt it.” Ash left the realtor in the living room and wandered through the home. He didn’t really need to know that it had a separate office area and several bedrooms. The attached storage area for firewood was useful, and it was convenient that most of the furniture and appliances came with the place, but it was too big for just one man.

  In all his life, he’d never felt that incessant urge that came from meeting one’s mate. While he was still with Delta Force, it didn’t matter much. He couldn’t exactly worry about settling down while he was busy running down terrorists and rescuing hostages. It was a hard and rough life, one that he enjoyed for the camaraderie and the excitement. There was something special about knowing he was one of the few men the country trusted with those missions, even if they weren’t ones that civilians usually heard about on the evening news.

  Over twenty years of that life had been enough, though, and Ash knew it was time to slow down. He hadn’t anticipated the first few months of his retirement serving as such a poignant reminder of just how alone he was. There was no woman in his life, and certainly no children. He didn’t even know any other shifters nearby, and even in the Alaskan wilderness, Ash was forced to keep the secret of who he truly was.

  “Well?” Mr. Larson urged as Ash returned to the living room. “Isn’t it great? The structure of this home is remarkable and it’s very well insulated.”

  “Mmhm.” Ash could appreciate those kinds of facts, and he could even appreciate the vaulted ceiling that really showed off the stone chimney. It was the best place he’d seen yet and the one closest to what he envisioned for his future. Something, though, still wasn’t right.

  “Okay, you told me you wanted a ranch. So maybe you’re not interested in the house, but you’ll be spending all your time outdoors anyway, right? Let’s go check out the equipment shed. Talk about big boy toys! Have you done any ranching before?” The realtor stepped out the back door and took long, confident strides toward the metal barn.

  Ash pursed his lips as he fell into step beside the man. “Can’t say that I have. I’ll have a lot to learn.”

  “Good for you, Mr. Cunningham! We need more people like you out here, men who aren’t afraid to take their chances working the land. In this day and age, everyone wants to be involved in technology and the internet. But we need people behind the scenes getting things done.” He pumped his fist in the air as he slid the door to the equipment shed aside with a loud creak.

>   The place was impressive, with a concrete floor, full electrical, and all the tractors and equipment a man could possibly need to run a ranch. But Ash felt the reality of what he was wanting to do as he perused the big machines. Sure, even though Mr. Larson had been a little hokey about it, there was something exciting and almost noble about ranch life. But to do it all by himself? To run a place this big when he didn’t really know what he was doing? That was asking a lot of himself, but he wasn’t a man to turn down a challenge.

  “I see that look on your face,” Mr. Larson said, leaning against a steel beam. “You’re wondering how you’re going to do this.”

  Ash immediately hardened his features.

  “It’s all right, any man would be out of his mind if he thought he could just dive in and do this. You’ve got a lot at stake here, and not just money. Come on.” He waved Ash to come along with him as he left the back of the shed and led the way up over a small hill. “You’ve got all their lives in your hands, too,” he said as he pointed toward a large cattle barn. The animals milled about within the sturdy fencing, twitching their ears at the sound of the men’s voices.

  So this was where they kept them all, far back from the road. Ash inhaled the scent and felt his shoulders relax a little. Maybe this was what had been missing when he’d looked at the front of the property where the house was located. It felt like a luxury cabin at a resort from that angle, but this was what he’d come here for.