by BJ Wane
Gail laughed, standing. “I hear you. Never go to the store hungry. Stay put and I’ll get a double order of Bart’s bacon cheeseburgers and onion rings.”
“Oh, God, five more pounds, here they come. That works for me.”
By the time Roz swallowed the last bite of burger and finished off the crispy onion rings, she didn’t worry about the choices at the grocery looking too good to resist. Wiping her mouth and wadding up the trash, she asked Gail on the way to the bin, “What do you do for fun on weekends around here? I’m on call, which I’m thrilled Dr. Dennis trusts me that much already, but as long as I have my phone, I don’t have to stay close to the clinic.”
“You’re not far from the new place, Puss ’N Boots, a club owned by the McCullough brothers who also own one of the largest spreads in the valley. I can’t make it, but don’t wait. Everyone from around here has checked it out and loved it.”
Dancing with a few locals might be a good way to find someone who stirred her enough to engage in a short affair, as well as get to know more people. Maybe Karen or Stacy, the receptionists at the clinic, would go with her.
“Thanks for the tip and lunch, Gail. Next one’s on me. I’ll check out the club.”
“Let me know how you like it, and if you meet anyone.”
“Will do,” she returned, waving as they went their separate ways.
Roz veered into the gravel parking lot of Puss ’N Boots Friday night, the number of vehicles a sign of the popularity of the place. Even though her first week at work left her exhausted, the prospect of cutting loose for the first time in a long while pumped her up with excitement. She locked the car door then wound through the lot and entered with a shiver of expectation she couldn’t explain.
The small foyer lined with coat and hat hooks opened into a vast room teeming with Stetson-wearing cowboys and their smiling partners, some of them pressed intimately together slow dancing to the country ballad playing from hidden speakers. Envious of their closeness, she paused to take in the rest of the space, rubbing her arm against the strange onset of tiny prickles ghosting over her skin. The mechanical bull in the far corner looked enticing, but not as tempting as the bartender gazing her way with a tight, five-o’clock-shadowed jawline, a black tee shirt molded around thick biceps and wide shoulders, his black hat tipped low enough to shield his eyes.
Her palms grew sweaty, her heart thumping in tune with the throbbing heat between her legs. She’d never responded with such physical intensity to a man upon setting eyes on him. It took Roz just seconds to decide he was the one she wanted to knock off a few of the items on her bucket list. Moving to grab an empty table while she waited for Karen, her only co-worker who could join her tonight, to arrive, she forced herself to look away from the bartender for now.
****
Un-fucking believable.
As soon as tingles erupted across his skin and Drake’s blood turned into a hot lava flow rushing through his veins, his gaze whipped toward the front entrance of their nightclub and zeroed in on the brunette coming through the door. Ever since his two older brothers had revealed they’d met their mates at the private BDSM club, Spurs, in Boise, he’d taken care to avoid that establishment whenever traveling to the capitol to attend the livestock auctions. All to no avail, if his body, and his wolf’s sudden clawing agitation were true indicators the new stranger was the one and only woman who could complete him in every way.
Drake didn’t care, making a desperate attempt to quell the frissons of heat spreading to his groin. He refused to cave like Gavin and Cody, even if his siblings appeared more content and happier than he’d ever seen them since reuniting with Aislyn and Olivia these past months. God knew they’d been near impossible to spend time around when each had returned to their family ranch last year and had done nothing to hide their moodiness—only the reason behind their discontent.
Knock it off, he instructed his wolf who was digging his claws into his abdomen. We’re not going there, and you know damn well why.
“If you keep scowling like that, you’ll scare off customers.”
Drake flicked Gavin an annoyed glance then cut his gaze to the brunette who was already out on the dance floor. With his enhanced vision, he could easily make out her small, straight nose, full, smiling mouth, and soft cheeks, not surprised someone else had already found her attractive. Damn if the woman didn’t fill out a pair of jeans to perfection, her ass and breasts nicely rounded, her body type his favorite—soft.
“I haven’t lost one yet,” he replied, drawing a beer for his brother.
Since their opening a few weeks ago, the club Cody talked them into going in on had brought in a large crowd every weekend and was proving to be a wise investment, even with only opening two nights a week. He and Gavin had thought Cody nuts to take on such a venture on top of running their ranch, but there was no denying the steady return of patrons from the small towns within a thirty-minute drive of their location off the main highway. But why the hell did one have to be the woman he was so determined never to chance meeting?
And, damn it, she was on to her second dance partner already, barely taking a break in between to greet the receptionist he recognized from the veterinary clinic when she arrived.
“Someone catch your eye, bro?”
Gavin swiveled on the barstool, his blue eyes zeroing in right where Drake couldn’t prevent his gaze from wandering. Her shaggy-cut, shoulder-length hair whipped around her laughing face as her dance partner swung her about then caught her around the waist, hauling her against his chest and gyrating hips. Once again, his idiot canine dug sharp claws into Drake’s abdomen, making his displeasure known.
Sliding the brew over, he replied with terse impatience, “No.” He avoided Gavin’s astute look, fighting the urge to rub his arms the same as he’d seen her try when she’d first entered, as if either of them could wipe away those distracting, tiny pinpricks of awareness kicking up his pulse. Drake wasn’t stupid. After listening to both his brothers talk about the instant surge of heat they experienced when first meeting their mates, there was no denying who she was, even though he’d never set eyes on her before and didn’t know her name. Unlike Gavin and Cody, he was as happy about coming across his mate as a bear with his paw caught in a steel trap.
Gavin flashed a grin. “She’s pretty…a bit flamboyant, if you go for that type.”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t what?” Cody asked, joining Drake behind the bar.
“Nothing. It’s about time you got here.” Drake hadn’t wanted to come out tonight, but with their cousin, Jesse, out of town at a rodeo, his help was needed manning the bar until Cody arrived.
“That’s my fault, Drake.” Olivia, Cody’s fiancée, settled onto the barstool next to Gavin. “We had an emergency come into the clinic that kept me late, and Cody insisted on waiting at home for me. I’m sorry. Did you have something pressing?”
He wasn’t fooled by her innocent expression or question. “No, but I have a malnourished pregnant mare I want to keep a close eye on.”
Olivia and Aislyn, Gavin’s fiancée, had taken it upon themselves to “pull him out of his shell,” as they put it. Drake liked his brothers’ mates and was happy for his siblings’ good fortune. That didn’t mean he would change his ways for their women. He was quite happy remaining unsociable with everyone except immediate family and the cowhands he enjoyed working with. In the ten years since leaving the military, he’d found the company of horses preferable to that of most people. The grueling work of treating and rehabilitating a mistreated mustang satisfied a restlessness inside him, his successes a healing balm he hadn’t realized he needed.
Just because the laughing woman on the dance floor was likely his mate—he could always hold out hope he was just horny—didn’t mean a change in his life any more than the inclusion of Olivia and Aislyn into their family. There was nothing in their family history that indicated they had to accept a mate. In fact, considering the woman now on her thir
d dance partner—not that he was counting—was as human as Olivia and Aislyn, the history lesson of two relatives in their pack strictly discouraged taking a human mate. Those great, great uncles’ mistakes in marrying women too insecure to handle the revelation of their heritage were the reason why Gavin and Cody were bracing for their parents rejection of Aislyn and Olivia.
“There he goes again, ignoring us for a woman.” Gavin nodded across the room. “That’s got to be a first.”
Cody looked in that direction, his glance curious as he nudged his hat up. “I don’t recognize her. Who is she?”
“How the fuck do I know?” Tossing down the hand towel he’d used to wipe the bar top, Drake scowled as the urge to cross the room and get close to her intensified. It wouldn’t do to let on about his suspicion of their connection.
Aislyn returned from the restroom in time to hear him, and Drake all but groaned as she asked, “Know what?”
“Nothing.” Drake eyed the brunette winding her way toward the mechanical bull in the far corner, gritting his teeth. No way would he stand here and watch that lush body bowing back and forth on the rolling machine. Her rapid acceptance of three different dance partners one after the other, now followed by jumping on the bucking machine without pause, portrayed an air of recklessness that kept tugging at him, reminding him of himself on his darkest days. Unlike her, he stayed away from others during those times.
“I’m headed home, unless you need anything before I leave.” He really shouldn’t take off while the place was still teeming with such a large crowd, but it was either that or risk everything by caving to his wolf’s lust for a stranger. Out of sight, out of temptation. That was his new motto going forward now that he’d come across the one woman he wanted to avoid at all costs.
Gavin tugged Aislyn onto his lap. “Drake’s denying an interest in a newcomer.”
Grinding his molars together, he retrieved his truck keys from under the counter. “No more than any other woman. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“If you say so.” Gavin exchanged a speculative look with Cody before shrugging. “Take care tonight, Drake.”
“I always do.”
Stepping out into the much cooler air, Drake sucked in a deep, fortifying breath, the tension in his muscles easing as he looked up at the vast expanse of the inky-black, star-studded sky. He couldn’t stand crowds for long, preferring the outdoors to cooped up inside whenever possible. As he strode toward his truck in the jam-packed gravel lot, the hypersensitivity of his skin and inner heat scorching his veins lessened with each step.
Better already. He sighed as he slid behind the wheel and pulled out onto the highway, turning toward home. Ignoring his wolf’s growls of discontent with Drake’s decision, his thoughts turned to the pregnant mare, Mona, ensconced in his new stable until she gave birth. For the last few days, she’d been pawing the ground and circling her stall, signs of agitation or pain. Given her poor health, he feared she wouldn’t make it through a strenuous labor and birth, even though she’d gained over two hundred pounds since he’d brought her home last month.
It was the eyes that got to him every time, hers large and dark against her tan face. He could see her fear, her pain, and the occasional flare of hope reflected in the velvet-soft depths of her gaze whenever she eyed his approach. Working to heal and turn around mistreated horses sometimes threatened the promise he’d made to himself after his rescue to never lose control and turn his wolf’s rage upon another human being again. The two times he and his brothers used their shifter skills to threaten the ones responsible for Aislyn and Olivia’s legal troubles, they’d possessed full command of their canines.
If anyone wanted to come after him, bring it on. In the military, he’d learned a lot of ways to take down an enemy. But to abuse an animal was as low and as abhorrent to him as lifting a hand to a woman. You did not cross that line under any circumstances.
Drake hit the security code to the front gates of their ranch and drove the half mile to his two-story house. Parking to the side instead of pulling into the garage, he started inside until Mona’s high-pitched whinny of distress reached his ears and he veered toward the larger of the two stables built for his personal livestock. His rapid heartbeat matched the urgency he’d detected in the mare’s call for help.
Mona and Gus, his first rescued donkey, were the only livestock stabled in the eight-stall barn, the other six horses he was currently tending well enough to remain in the attached fenced-in pasture. Drake gave Gus a pat on his neck as he walked by his stall and his gaze darted across the aisle to take in Mona’s condition.
“Our girl’s not faring well,” he murmured to the donkey before crossing to slip inside the mare’s stall, his worry for her increasing as he saw her dilated state. It was too early for her to be in the advanced stages of birth, and, from the whites of her eyes and constant, rattled pacing, she wasn’t doing well.
“Easy, girl,” he whispered, approaching slowly as he pulled out his cell. Punching in the vet’s number, he pressed the connection to report an emergency and left a terse message, praying someone responded soon.
****
Roz laughed as she tumbled off the mechanical bull and shook her hair out of her face. She brushed her bangs aside then pushed to her feet just as her phone buzzed. “I have to get this. Thanks.” Waving to the young cute attendant, she answered the call from the vet’s emergency line, bringing her free hand up to her other ear to block as much of the noise inside the packed club as possible. After listening to the message and sending a quick text replying she was on her way, she wound her way to her table, regretting the need for her early departure.
Karen breezed up to the table as Roz pulled tip money from her purse. “Hey, Doc, what’s up?”
“I’m sorry, but an emergency call just came in. I gotta run.” The receptionist was only a few years younger than Roz, and she hated abandoning her. “If you stay, be careful. Have someone walk you out to your car.”
Shaking her blonde head, Karen laughed. “I’m always diligent at night, but we don’t have the crime around like the big cities. I wish I could help, though. Text me when you’re done.”
“I will, thanks. See you Monday.”
She’d enjoyed herself the last two hours, but she also looked forward to answering her first emergency call, and a chance to come to the aid of a nearby rancher. As she started out, her gaze strayed toward the bar, seeking yet another glance at the midnight-haired cowboy serving drinks who had caught her interest at first sight. Her plan to approach him closer to closing time wouldn’t pan out tonight, but she could always return next week. The surge of heat that had rushed through her body upon spotting the tall, built-like-a-brick-house guy, didn’t ease until a short time ago, instead intensifying every time she sought him out. Attraction she understood—a quick, pop-up fantasy at seeing a rugged, chiseled face topped by a tipped-down Stetson was normal for any red-blooded city girl. But the constant, sizzling flow of awareness that kept distracting her from other men the past hour, and that wouldn’t let up, wasn’t normal.
There must be something seriously wrong with me, she mused as disappointment swamped her when she couldn’t find him. She wondered if his departure while she’d been riding the mechanical bull accounted for the drop-off of those tingles and the cooling of her blood. If so, bummer. She’d rather enjoyed the sensations, and the eye candy, but now, her job and the animals entrusted into her care took precedence, her attention turning toward getting to the mare who was in trouble.
The cool early October air invigorated her as much as the dancing and bull riding, and Roz inhaled a deep lungful of the crisp fresh pine scent. Her first week here had flown by in a flurry of activity and learning the ropes around the clinic. She loved working with the larger animals, especially the horses, and had already learned so much from Dennis. That he trusted her skills enough to put her on emergency calls this weekend spoke volumes and had given her a big boost in the confidence department.
Animals of all species had always fascinated her, starting with her aunt’s exotic Toyger cat, a cross between a Bengal and a striped domestic shorthair. As a teen volunteer at the zoo, she’d worked mostly with the farm animals in the petting area and assisted with horse and camel rides, but spent a lot of her free time getting acquainted with the wild animals. The experienced handlers would invite her into the pens, marveling at her lack of fear, always cautioning her to take their wild natures seriously.
Roz’s beams picked up the open front gates to the McCullough ranch, and she switched gears, setting aside memories to focus on the here and now. The faint glow of lights from up ahead led her to a two-story home with a charming, wraparound porch. Behind it sat two stables, and she veered toward the largest with its open doors and lit interior. She parked and sent another text, saying she was here, and waited for a reply to ensure she was in the right place. Instead of answering, the large silhouette of a man filled the doorway where he beckoned her inside with an impatient wave. She grabbed her bag and slid out of the car, for some unfathomable reason not the least intimidated.
Walking toward him, she saw his whole body stiffen at the same moment her odd reaction to the man at the club returned with a sudden flow of molten heat through her veins and dancing across her skin. What are the odds? she mused with a spurt of excitement, recognizing the man as the same one who had commanded her attention earlier.
Holding out her hand as she approached, she took in the pinched, displeased set to his sexy mouth and the wicked-looking scar marring one cheek. Standing with booted feet apart, hands fisted on lean hips, and his hat shielding half his face, his unwelcoming stance revealed the strict impatience stamped all over him. Oh, yeah, he’s definitely the one to fulfill my sexual fantasy list.