To Plan For A Mate: Somewhere, TX (VonBrandt Wolf Pack Book 6)

by Krystal Shannan

  She returned a moment later with another bottle. “Did I see your name on the schedule for next week?”

  “Yup. I’m sticking around until my ankle heals. Joe’s little brother is my best friend. He took pity on me and let me pick up some grunt shifts.”

  She straightened and took a step back from the edge of the bar, the implications of their impending co-worker status apparently dawning on her. “Enjoy your beer. I’m cutting you off after this.”

  “Sure,” he muttered, grabbing the beer and taking a long sip. Cold with just the right amount of bite. He could make it last. He could also probably find a spot at a corner table and get a waitress to bring him another. The bartender might say he was done, but Ash didn’t have any intention of calling it a night just yet. It was barely after eight and his buddies were probably all getting hauled down to the drunk tank.

  Alone again.

  What he really needed was a girl to take home. A flapping banner over the corner stage announced that it was Ladies’ Night. Soon, hot women would be everywhere, and all the single cowboys had just been taken to jail. Fuck, yes.

  The dance floor was a little sparse at the moment. A few bodies swayed to the rhythm of a two-step. No use looking there. With his foot locked in what might as well have been a concrete block, he wasn’t going to be able to use his usual charms to find a willing bedmate. If he could even get her into said bed.

  Damn ankle.

  “Hey, Ash, I need to take your statement,” said a familiar voice from behind him. He turned slightly and saw Eli Brice coming toward him, his deputy uniform crisply pressed. Eli leaned on the side of the booth. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I didn’t really see it.”

  “You were out on the dance floor or something?” Eli’s voice carried a little laughter, but Ash didn’t feel like joining in.

  “Yeah.” He clunked his boot hard on the floor and it made his ankle ache, but the ache was good. Pain was a good distraction. “I was cuttin’ up the place.”

  Eli flipped his pad open. “I just need to know what happened so I can let your friends go if they didn’t do anything.”

  Ash hadn’t been friends with Eli since high school, and even then, they’d only been passing acquaintances. Still, the deputy wasn’t a bad dude. Or at least he hadn’t been back in the day.

  “What do you think they did?” Ash asked, taking another long pull of his beer.

  “Well, according to the couple over there at the bar, Reyna was the—”

  “Who’s Reyna?”

  “The girl.”

  Ash set his bottle down, hard. “Is she okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. Not even a scratch on her.”

  “Good. I mean, she punched Ty out out, so she can clearly take care of herself, but still. He probably grabbed her ass unprovoked. But she also threw him over the bull and then broke the lamp.”

  Eli nodded, writing notes in his little notebook. “That matches what we heard.” He pressed his lips together and glanced at the back door.

  “Where’d Allan go with Cors—Reyna?” Ash pointed toward the exit as he sipped the beer. Sip, man. Slow down.

  “I think he took the girl back to wherever she was staying.”

  Sure he did. Ash gave the deputy a cynical smile. “Well, you can let Tyson go, unfortunately. Unless she’s gonna press charges, which…hell, she probably should. He can be a dick sometimes.”

  “We’ll wait to see what Joe wants to do about this big Tiffany lamp that got shattered.” Eli shoved the notebook into his pocket. “You need a ride, Ash?”

  The comment sank right through Ash’s armor. Gimp, can’t even walk home himself. That was what Eli was thinking, no doubt.

  “I’ll walk.”

  “With that cast?”

  Ash pointed at the glass of water next to his beer. “I’ll hydrate, deputy. You’re not my babysitter.”

  “Take care, man. Call if you need a ride.” Eli squeezed his shoulder, and Ash felt a sudden urge to punch him in the throat.

  Not a charity case.

  His ankle continued to throb and he realized he was putting a lot of pressure on it as Eli sauntered away, saluting a couple of other witnesses in the corner. Ash gripped the bottle with a hard hand and looked around the stupid bar for one of the new-on-shift waitresses who hadn’t yet talked to Wendy about him being cut off.

  It wasn’t nearly busy enough for his taste. But that would change. Soon, it would hit nine or so, and the girls would start arriving. I need to get laid tonight.

  Since drowning his sorrows in beer hadn’t worked, indulging in the comfort of a warm body was next on the list.

  Chapter Three

  Helena had put everything on hold for the Quade ranch. She loved it there. Loved the horses and the cattle and most of the family and the challenge. There were a thousand things to organize and keep straight, and she was the best one for that job. But they didn’t accept her as one of their own. Not really. She was just a female, and only half a wolf. Apparently that meant she belonged barefoot and pregnant and in a kitchen somewhere making biscuits and gravy for the men.

  Shit.

  A mate. She’d avoided dating. Avoided looking for a mate. Avoided life in general. All so she could impress her grandfather and show him how much she deserved to run the ranch. She was certainly the only one who knew how to run it.

  She’d have to look through her personal planner to verify the timing, but she was fairly certain she hadn’t been on a date for more than eight months. There’d been no spark on that one—both of them wanted a mate, but she wanted the kind of bond that was a gift from Fate. Not every wolf waited for one, but she was willing to. She believed, no matter what anyone said, that every wolf could have a Fated match if they just waited.

  “Helena, what are you doing?” Kate asked from the doorway. Her cousin, wearing the customary Quade outfit of all black, walked into the small, dimly lit sitting room.

  “Getting drunk. Want some? Apparently having ovaries makes me less qualified to be involved in pack business.”

  “Who-oah!” Kate sank onto the couch cushion next to Helena. “Let’s find you something other than your ovaries to talk about.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? My ovaries keep the whole damn ranch in line.”

  Kate gave her a sidelong glance and then turned to stare at the stack of papers and notebooks on the coffee table.

  “Well, they do, though I suppose my planners help.”

  A chuckle rolled up out of the small blonde woman. “I know all about your planners and sticky notes, girl. I grew up with you.”

  Helena huffed and leaned forward, pouring herself another bourbon.

  Kate took the glass from her hand and set it back on the table. “How about something a little more fun. Since more than three quarters of the men around here are going to be cooped up in that dining room for the next who knows how long, let’s hit up a bar in town.”

  “There are women in there too. I saw them,” Helena drawled.

  “Nope, not talking about the meeting with you. We’re leaving,” Kate snapped, heading off any more complaints.

  “Just you and me? Where’s Gretchen?” Gretchen was another cousin, and she and Kate were typically attached at the hip. It would be strange for one of them to go out without the other.

  Kate grinned—her face parting into a smile that spelled trouble with a capital T. “She’s pulling a car around as we speak. I just came in here to look for you.”

  “Fine. But I’m only going because I want to get drunker.”

  “Deal,” Kate said, ejecting herself from the couch cushion and yanking Helena up after her. “Let’s go dance with some cowboys and get drunk enough to make you forget about feeling sorry for yourself because you had to stop working for one itsy-bitsy minute.”

  Ugh.

  Helena liked work. It was fulfilling. One day, or so she’d always told herself, all that work would pay off. She’d meet a nice wolf shifter who would
make her fall crazy in love and everything would be perfect.

  “They’re gonna be sorry. He’ll regret firing me.” Story of her life. Always the one everyone needed, and never the one anyone wanted.

  “Yes, they will. But we’re not focusing on that right now. Right now, we’re going to go find alcohol and flirt with single guys.” Kate dragged her out of the small sitting area and down the quiet hallway. A few people were left milling about, but most of the guests not attending the summit had found entertainment in the form of drinking, cards, or making out.

  Looks like Grandfather isn’t the only one using the summit to match up mates.

  The drive into town was quick and filled with her cousins’ encouraging cheers about how Helena deserved to focus on herself for a change. How Fate would make sure she found the right man. Wolf. I need the right wolf. She wasn’t about to repeat the mistake her parents had made, splitting themselves between worlds.

  Not like she’d really been asked to choose. She and her mother barely spoke. And her mother never came out to the ranch for anything, not even holiday meals. Her parents were bonded—mate marks and all, but they hadn’t been fated mates and they both considered their marriage the worst mistake of their life. Except for her. They constantly assured Helena she was the only good thing to have come out of their marriage.

  But now, clearly Helena needed a new pack. As much as it would hurt to leave her cousins and her parents, she refused to stay in a place that didn’t value her. She was worth so much more. But right now she just needed a drink. Alcohol and a one-night stand with a willing body. Even a human would be fine for one night.

  “Everyday Joe’s,” Gretchen said, pointing to the sign above the rustic building. “We’re here!” She pulled into the packed parking lot and they were headed inside in a few short minutes. The pounding of the bass made Helena’s wolf pace inside her. The music called to her…or maybe it was the smell of more alcohol. She and her cousins deserved this. They needed to forget their troubles and just be for a while.

  She could start planning for a mate after she had fun with a nice cowboy from Somewhere.

  Ash loved it when they played Florida Georgia Line. Real panty-dropper music. All those tight harmonies and nostalgic lyrics. Girls got to bumping along with anyone who reminded them of a back-road redneck.

  He could do redneck for a night.

  Could do whatever they wanted.

  There wasn’t a wide selection, despite it being Ladies’ Night. Apparently, the ladies of Somewhere hadn’t heard that Joe Walker wanted them in his bar on Thursday nights. Or maybe it was still too early. But Ash was…empty. He needed something.

  His insides started to itch and a mournful steel guitar came over the speakers. Some guy started singing equally somber lyrics in a voice to match. A shiver went across his shoulders and he set down his half-empty whiskey glass.

  Three women came strolling through the entrance in slow motion like some damn music video. They were leggy and curvy and dressed in all black—a blonde and two brunettes. Normally, he’d have gone for the blonde, but there was something about one of the brunettes that caught his eye. Maybe it was the way her skin glowed under the lights, or the hooded heat of her gaze. Or maybe it was the slight twist of her lips. Not quite a smile, plastered on for someone else’s benefit.

  He knew that look. Pain. Knew it well.

  The girls slid onto high chairs at one of the tables near the bar. The blonde called out a drink order, and she and the other brunette pulled Sad Girl out onto the dance floor. Her tight shoulders spoke of reluctance, but she was a good sport. She went along.

  Ash checked his phone. No word from Tyson. They mustn’t have been released from the drunk tank yet. He kept watching the one brunette. Sad Girl. She smiled for her friends, even laughed when they grinded on her. But that smile never reached her eyes.

  He wanted her to smile for real. That would be stunning.

  An upbeat Brent Kane song came on and the girls started dancing in earnest. A couple of cowboys approached them and a guy tried to talk to Sad Girl. Wendy came over to his table and scoffed, swinging her blonde hair over her shoulder.

  “Who served you?” she asked, swiping at his glass.

  Ash maneuvered it away, onto the seat beside him, and smiled up at her. “I’ve been here long enough to deserve another evaluation.”

  “I said I was cutting you off.”

  “Yes, Mom.” He pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket. “For your troubles, and for the tab.”

  She grabbed the cash. “I’m closing you out, Ash. Go home.”

  Something cold squeezed his chest as he saw Sad Girl talking with a cowboy he didn’t recognize. She wasn’t quite acting interested, but Ash found himself standing from his table and clunking toward the dance floor.

  What the hell am I doing?

  He paused a few steps from their table, not far from where they were gathered. Couldn’t dance with his damn boot on, and he couldn’t take the thing off. His shoe for that foot was still in his truck, having been abandoned after the doctor’s appointment.

  Another shiver passed across his shoulders and through his body. Ash turned to find Sad Girl staring at him. She had these amazing amber-colored eyes, and they sparked with gold. And interest. He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Maybe he had a chance after all.

  A few excruciatingly long seconds later, she broke from her group, leaving her two friends and the guy she’d been dancing with. She walked toward him, swaying those curvy hips back and forth with each step. She wore tight black jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black tank that hugged her perfect breasts in a way that made him jealous of the fabric. A tiny slip of her stomach showed between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her pants.

  Something else showed. Something dark against her light skin, curving around both of her hips. Ink?

  Damn. Full of surprises, girl.

  “You wanna dance?” she asked, stopping a few feet away.

  Ash moved his bum leg out from behind one of the tall chairs and shrugged his shoulders. “No dancing for me today, but I’d love to buy you a drink.” He gestured toward the table in front of him. “Sit with me?”

  “Bourbon, neat.” She smiled and then bit her bottom lip.

  Ash let out a low groan, letting his mind wander to all the ways he could get her to do that again. She smelled like heaven. Looked like an adventure. And looked like she needed to take her mind off something. He pulled out a chair for Sad Girl as a waitress arrived with the three drinks the girl’s group had ordered.

  “Apparently, we need a couple of bourbons, too,” he said to the waitress. “Neat.”

  She looked at him, over her glasses. “Didn’t Wendy just cut you off?”

  “A big tip says she didn’t.” He slipped some cash onto her empty tray. “The girl wants a bourbon.”

  As the waitress walked away, Ash looked over to find Sad Girl staring at him, swaying to the music, not even a peep about the cut-off comment. Good girl.

  He’d have to change her name.

  “I’m Ash.”

  “Helena,” she said, downing the cocktail in front of her, pushing the other two off to the side. But her eyes hadn’t left him, and she looked as eager as a starved animal cornering the only food left in the world.

  Ash was happy to be her prey. He hadn’t even had to charm her to get her to sit with him. She’d practically come to him like moth to a flame. All it had taken was one look. He was thankful to the hook-up gods for paving the way, but the connection between them was baffling. This was chemistry at a hot clip.

  “I have to ask,” he said, flashing a hooded smile. “What made you come over here? You seemed like you were having a good time.”

  “There was something about you.” She looked him up and down, slurring her words just a touch. “I can’t quite explain it. I just needed to. What about you? I could tell you were thinking about coming over, but then you
stopped.”

  “Can’t dance with a bum leg.” Their drinks arrived and she downed hers before he could even pick up his glass. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to pull that guy off you.”

  “You look like you move just fine. I bet you could get any girl you wanted.”

  “You’re the only one I want.”

  “For tonight, anyway.” She chuckled and eyed his glass of bourbon.

  He shoved the glass toward her. “One-night, no-strings?”

  “That is the plan.” She smiled up from beneath long black lashes. The heat in those golden eyes made his insides melt and his blood pump in a decidedly southern direction. Damn. He was that guy.

  “The plan?”

  “Yes. I have a plan. I could show you the plan if you like.” Her sultry smile was more intoxicating than the whisky had been.

  Dammit. She’s hot.

  “I find it helpful to be clear about the plan up front, so no one is disappointed,” she said, downing his bourbon in one swallow.

  “Shit, girl. Rough day?”

  She nodded and licked her lips again, giving him that same hungry look. “The worst. I thought I could prove myself to my grandfather, but he’ll always see me as a useless assistant. I don’t belong anywhere,” she said, her voice revealing the depression she was attempting to drown out with the exorbitant amounts of alcohol. How many has she had so far? Shit… better cut her off.

  That was the emotion he’d seen on her face earlier, when she first came in. Disappointment.

  “I can help take the edge off,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He wanted her. Wanted to taste her from head to foot. Wanted to bury his head between her legs and see if she tasted as good as he imagined. Wanted to sink himself deep inside her and make her scream his name until she couldn’t bear the thought of having any other man…ever.

  Okay, where the hell is this coming from? He never thought about long-term. He was upfront with girls about being a wanderer. It was usually part of his allure for them.