“Ah … Cam!” Her hips rocked against his growing erection. Her overpowering scent set his blood on fire, and he didn’t care they were outside. He wanted her, to be inside her again and feel her squeezing—
The sound of a car starting a few rows away from them snapped him back to his senses, and he pulled away. She whimpered in protest.
Calm yourself, Cameron, he scolded himself. And so, he set her down on the ground. “Uh, apologies.”
“Don’t be sorry for that,” she said wryly. “Or that.”
He followed her gaze to where his hands were still under her top. His only regret was that he had been so consumed by the need to have her when they met that he didn’t get a chance to see her fully naked body or her breasts. Even now, her nipples were like hard pebbles between his fingers, and he wondered what they tasted like.
“Oh … I …” He quickly pulled his hands away and pulled down her jumper. “I’m—what the hell?” He blinked as he noticed the design knitted into her top and began to read it aloud. “‘I like big—’ Have you been wearing that the entire time?”
“Yeah. It’s my favorite Thanksgiving sweater.” With a great big sigh, she laid her head against his chest. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to come over for a sleepover? I promise we can keep it PG.”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep whiff of her scent. “You might be able to promise that, but I can’t.” He knew if they were ever alone again, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Nor would he want to. It was strange and irrational this need to claim her and make her his. But once he got caught up in it, it was the only thing he could think of.
Another thought struck him in that moment. “By the way, J.D., I should have addressed this as soon as we, uh, finished, but if there is a child, I would take responsibility—”
“Whoa, hold on!” A panicked look struck her face and she held her hands out. “There could be that, but you don’t have to worry. My heat suppressants come with a healthy dose of shifter-strength birth control,” she chortled. “So, no bun in this oven anytime soon.”
Huh. Heat suppressants. J.D. was feline then, as only the female of her species of shifters experienced heat cycles.
“All right, now that we have that awkward conversation out of the way,” she said, taking a step back. “How about you come to my place around noon, and we can ride up to Damon’s together? I’ll text you the address.” They had exchanged numbers earlier in the evening.
“Sound like a plan.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Drive safe, J.D. Please let me know when you get home safe.” While his bear wanted him to follow her home and make sure of that himself, he refused to give in as he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking her up on her offer for a sleepover. We need to do this right, he told his grumpy bear.
She climbed into her truck, closed the door, then stuck her head out the window as she started the engine. Flashing him a saucy grin, she waved and pulled out of the space. He took a step back and returned her wave, watching the truck as it left the parking lot and then turned down the road, disappearing into the distance.
A void opened up in his chest at the realization he was alone, which was then filled with regret. Should he have taken her up on her offer? Did it really matter since they’d already been intimate?
His bear, of course, wanted to be with her. It pressed its giant white furry paws against his chest, as if trying to get him to let it out so he could go after J.D.
Absolutely not, he told the creature. Just be patient.
It pouted at him and sulked in the corner.
It was only rational and logical that he should get to know her first. And that she get to know him. The real him.
From out of nowhere, a deep-seated fear gripped him at the realization. To quote his mate, he didn’t want to ‘fuck this up’ either. But there were so many things J.D. didn’t know about him.
And what she did know wasn’t even the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Underneath the surface was a continent-sized jumble of personal, not to mention familial, issues she had no clue about.
Had he forgotten about what he left behind? His duties and his history? Just because he’d crossed the Atlantic, it didn’t mean they didn’t exist. If—no, when—she did find out, well …
He would have to ease her into it, and just hope and pray that it wouldn’t send her running in the opposite direction.
Chapter Four
J.D. hummed to herself as she waited for noon to roll around the next day. Damon had said it was fine to bring him along, of course. Not that she would have cared either way, because she probably would have bullied or blackmailed him if he’d said the opposite or ask the real boss, AKA Anna Victoria, for permission.
As she sat on the couch fiddling with her phone, a notification popped up indicating she had gotten a text message. A groan escaped her mouth when she saw the name.
Roy Jorell.
The message summary began with, Happy Turkey Day! What are you.…
Ugh. He was the last person she wanted to think about right now. But before she could swipe it away, a phone call came in. Her heart sped up, wondering if it was Cam, but another name flashed on the caller ID, one that made her pause before taking it. “Darcey?”
“H-hey, J.D.” The swan shifter sounded just as surprised. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said. “What’s up? How’ve you been?”
“I’m good.” There was a pause. “I know this is out of blue. Me calling you that is. And I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me, but I wanted to say sorry about last night.”
“Sorry? Hun, whaddaya got to be sorry about? If anything, it should be Anders apologizing.” She still didn’t like the way Anders spoke to Cam. Her cat, too, wanted to reach out and swipe at him.
“Yes, that too. I’ll talk to him about that.” Her tone turned somber. “I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Cam and me. Gabriel explained that you and Cam were mates, and if I had known—”
“Hold on, Darce,” she interrupted. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for. It was in the past, before he and I met. And it’s not like I was waiting around for him to come along.”
“I know. But you looked so pissed last night.”
“Only because I was blindsided. Everyone seemed to know that you and Cam went out except me. And really, I don’t have any right to complain; Cam and I only met an hour before that, so it’s not like we had time to talk about who we dated in the past. So please, Darcey, don’t feel bad at all. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, because I consider you a good friend. One of the few female friends I have.”
“Oh, J.D., you don’t know how happy that makes me.” She sniffled. “Sorry. Pregnancy hormones.”
“Don’t worry about it. How are you feeling, by the way? And tell me all about your trip and meeting your family.”
They chatted for a few more minutes until she heard the sound of a Range Rover stopping outside her door. “Uh, listen, I gotta go, Darce. I’ll see you sometime, okay?”
“Sure! Why don’t you stop by the shop next week? Maybe you can pick out a present to unwrap for Cam for Christmas.”
Darcey, along with her adoptive sister Sarah, ran Blackstone’s only lingerie shop, Silk, Lace, and Whispers. “Ooh! I like that idea. I’ll definitely come by.” After saying goodbye to Darcey and hanging up, she bounded toward the door, opening it before Cam could knock.
It was twelve on the dot, and he was already standing there, one hand raised halfway. The sight of him and the sheer force of the attraction she felt made her want to get down on her knees to thank whichever god had sent him as her mate. “Hey, Cam,” she greeted, trying to sound casual and not too pathetic.
Those smoldering blue-violet eyes drilled right into her. “Good morning, love.”
She braced herself against the door to keep from melting into a pool of mush. That sexy voice and yummy accent was too much.
“Don’t you look nice,” she commented.
His hair was tied back, and he had his usual gold-rimmed glasses on, but instead of the khaki rangers uniform, he wore a blue sweater over a white collared shirt, jeans, and boots. A leather jacket was slung casually over his shoulder. Did nothing look terrible on this man?
His face lit up. “So do”—his gaze dropped down to her chest—“uh, you.”
“It’s my second favorite Thanksgiving sweater,” she said proudly. “Like it?” There was a cartoon turkey on the front, and underneath it said “Pluck me.”
“It’s … interesting.”
“No need to be polite. Tell me what you really think about it.”
“Is this a trick question?”
She chuckled. “I promise I won’t get mad.”
He shook his head. “What is with you and these ridiculous jumpers?”
“It’s my way of getting into the holiday spirit. Don’t you—oh!” She gasped when she found herself pinned up against the doorframe and Cam’s arms wound around her. Before she could protest, his mouth descended on hers, and she really almost did melt into a puddle at his feet.
His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, and though he was more subdued today, it didn’t lessen the desire zinging through her system. When his hand shoved into her hair and pulled back, she found herself opening up to him, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. His scent, his everything was just so overwhelming, and she was tempted to pull him in and drag him by the hair to her bedroom. As if by mutual agreement, they released each other at the same time.
“Sorry … I, uh …”
“Your glasses are fogged up,” she said with a giggle.
“Ah, yes.” He quickly took them off and wiped them on his sweater.
J.D. wasn’t sure why he wore them in the first place, and she didn’t miss how he evaded that question last night. Who are you, Dr. Cameron Spenser? she wondered.
As much as she was suffering from a case of lady blue balls, she couldn’t disagree with his sound logic about not sleeping together again. The sex had been out of this world, which made it distracting. They hardly knew each other, and last night only proved that. No, she wasn’t jealous over the Darcey thing, but taking it slow should help them navigate any more pitfalls.
Since her father died over a decade ago, she’d been alone, fending for herself, trying to keep his business going. There had been no time for fun or fooling around. Sure, she’d had boyfriends in high school and a couple of flings over the years, but nothing ever serious.
Besides, she knew she wasn’t exactly the type guys went for. She was neither classically pretty or even feminine, had no fashion sense, her nails were always chipped, and her hair could be like a rat’s nest most of the time. She also swore like a pirate, drank like a sailor, and had no brain-to-mouth filter. Of course Cam would go for someone like Darcey. Someone who was cute and girly and who’d learned how to put on makeup when she was a teenager instead of changing the oil in the engine of a 1951 Ford truck.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “What’s the matter?”
“I … it’s fine.” She waved a hand nonchalantly. “It’s a long drive up; we should go.”
They decided to drive up to Damon’s cabin in his Range Rover since it would be more comfortable. He opened the door for her and helped her inside.
“Nice,” she said as she eased into the front passenger seat, her hands feeling the buttery soft leather underneath her. “How’d you manage to snag this ride on your ranger salary?”
“Um, it’s a rental,” he said before closing the door. He walked around the front and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Damon’s sent me the GPS coordinates, and I’ve programmed them in. Ready to leave?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Cam started the engine, and they were off. Damon and Anna Victoria lived not too far from the rangers headquarters, in an area where Lennox Corporation, the company that owned the mountains, leased land to rangers. It was apparently one of the perks of the job, and Damon had a huge, beautiful two-story cabin on a large, secluded acreage.
“So, it’s going to be a long drive,” he began. “How about we get to know each other?”
“All right,” she said. “What’s your favorite color?”
He thought for a moment. “Green.”
“Mine too. Looks like we’re going to get along, champ,” she joked.
He flashed her a wry smile. “All right then. Favorite food.”
“Pizza. You?”
“Bangers and mash.”
“A what now?”
“It’s a British dish,” he said. “It’s basically sausages and mashed potatoes.”
“Whew! I thought it was some kind of kinky thing … not that I would mind.” She winked at him.
They continued their game as the drive went on. She enjoyed learning all the little things his preferences revealed about him. And she was loving every minute of it, at least, she was until the last question.
“Favorite time of the year,” he asked.
“Duh. Easy. Christmas.”
“I meant season.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. The Christmas season.”
He frowned, but said nothing.
Sensing something was wrong, she turned to him. “What? What’s wrong with Christmas?”
“Nothing.”
The atmosphere inside the car definitely changed, growing darker. “You … don’t like Christmas?”
He flinched. “Not really.”
“What? Pffft. I don’t believe it. Everyone likes Christmas.”
“That’s an absolute statement, and therefore cannot be true.” His eyes remained fixed on the road. “There are people out there who don’t like Christmas.”
“Yeah, heartless ogres!” Oh my God, this couldn’t be happening! “You’re a polar bear, how can you not like Christmas?”
“And what does that have to do with it?”
“Duh, you’re Santa’s neighbor. And didn’t you ever see those Christmas commercials with the ice-skating polar bears?”
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You do know Santa Claus isn’t real, right?”
The condescension in his tone rankled her. “That’s not the point.” This was slowly turning into her worst nightmare. “Stop the car.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Stop the car, I’m getting out.”
He glanced at her, his face incredulous. “Out? And where do you think you’re going?”
“Home.”
“J.D., be reasonable. We’re in the middle of the mountains. It will take you hours before you can get back down on foot. You’re not serious, are you?”
“You’re not serious about hating Christmas, are you?” she shot back.
“For God’s sake, stop being dramatic. Why does it matter if I do or don’t?” His jaw hardened and those blue-violet eyes turned flinty. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Fine.”
She wanted to press on and ask him why he had a heart a few sizes too small, but the tone of his voice and his sudden chilly demeanor made her think twice. Instead, she sank back into her seat and sulked. Her cat grumbled at her, irritated because she made their mate angry. Well, it’s not my fault he’s a Scrooge.
Thankfully they were already near Damon’s house and the car ride didn’t last any longer. As soon as Cam pulled up to the front of the cabin, she bolted out of the Range Rover and marched toward the door without looking back.
“Happy Thanksgiving—hey!” Gabriel protested when he opened the door and she dashed inside. “What crawled up your ass?”
Not minding Gabriel or greeting Damon, who was sitting on the huge sectional couch in the living room, she went straight toward the kitchen. As she guessed, Anna Victoria and Temperance were already there, placing boxes of Chinese takeout on the kitchen table. There was also fresh pie in the oven—pumpkin and apple, guessing by the smel
l.
“Hey, J.D. Happy Thanksgiving!” Temperance greeted, her pretty face lighting up, but then dimmed when her gaze landed on J.D.’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“It …” Oh God, how was she going to say this?
“J.D.?” Anna Victoria walked over to her. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Grabbing one of the kitchen stools, she hopped up onto it, then planted her chin in her hands. “It’s a tragedy, ladies. A great big tragedy.”
“Tragedy?” Temperance echoed.
“It’s Cam …” She paused. “He … he …”
“He what?” Anna Victoria asked. “Is it bad? Does he have a girlfriend?”
“Or a secret family stashed back in England?” Temperance offered.
She shook her head. “No, no. Even worse. He hates Christmas.”
“Hates Christmas?” Anna Victoria frowned. “What do you mean? Who could hate Christmas?”
“Exactly.” And she proceeded to tell them what happened during the ride over. “And then he went all cold on me. Like, he just shut down.” And if she were honest with herself, that probably annoyed her the most. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”
The two women looked at each other. “Surely it’s not that serious,” Anna Victoria said. “You’re mates, you should be able to work it out.”
“But it’s Christmas.”
“Gabriel told me how this season means a lot to you,” Temperance said. “And why.”
“So did Damon.” Anna Victoria nodded. “And I understand, believe me.”
A lump began to form in J.D.’s throat. She didn’t mind that her best friends told their mates, it wasn’t like it was a secret. “Then you know why it’s so important to me.”
“He doesn’t,” Temperance pointed out.
She swallowed the lump, and her throat loosened enough to allow her to speak again. “I didn’t have time to tell him. But I didn’t think he’d be so against the holiday. What if he hates it so much that he won’t ever want to celebrate it? Do you think he’s maybe part of one of those weird cults that don’t observe any kind of special holidays? What about birthdays and—”
Blackstone Ranger Scrooge: Blackstone Rangers Book 6 Page 5