by T. S. Joyce
Blaire’s green eyes rimmed with tears, and she hugged Ashlyn tight. She didn’t say anything, only swayed with her while Ash fell to pieces and speckled the gray sweater Blaire wore with her tears.
“What do you want me to do?” Blaire asked.
“Come home. If you like this guy, great. Date him like a normal person.”
“From a distance?”
“Yes, Blaire. Date him from your home town. Don’t just change your whole life for a man! You did that for Matt, and look what happened.”
“Gentry isn’t Matt.”
Ashlyn stomped her foot and shook out of the hug. “You’re so deep in this love-fest you can’t see how unhealthy it is, Blaire! I got us plane tickets back home. Come back, at least tie up your loose ends, for God’s sake! Clear your head and then decide if you want to be with this guy.”
“This guy has a name,” Gentry deadpanned.
“Where’s the graham crackers?” a tall, muscle-bound bearded man called from the kitchen where he currently had his bare ass hanging out of the pantry as he shuffled through stuff on the shelves.
“Case in point,” Ashlyn said, jamming a finger at the muscular rump of the stranger. “You haven’t looked disturbed at all that there is a naked man looking for cookies right behind you.”
The man snorted an offended sound and straightened, then leveled Ashlyn with a look. “Graham crackers are not cookies. Can you smear peanut butter and jelly on cookies? Hmm?”
“Yes.”
He frowned like she’d stumped him. “Well, it wouldn’t taste good.”
“Roman, put some pants on,” Gentry growled.
“For why?”
A dark-haired girl with a bright red headband holding her bangs back snickered. And now Blaire was smiling, while Roman looked from face to face with his hands on his hips and his giant dick dangling there for all to see.
Roman inhaled deeply like he was going to say something profound. “Everyone has genitalia—”
“Nope!” the petite woman said, hooking her arm in Roman’s and leading him toward the back door. “We’re not going through the nudity-is-natural speech again. Goodnight everyone.”
“Night, Mila,” Blaire said with deep affection in her voice. “See you in the morning.”
Ashlyn watched her best friend stare longingly after the couple that exited the house, and a sudden pang of jealously unfurled in her chest.
She’d been replaced.
Coming to Rangeley to retrieve Blaire wasn’t supposed to be this painful. She’d imagined herself an eagle, swooping down to save her friend, but now Blaire had new friends, and she didn’t seem to want rescue.
“You want to slumber party?” Blaire asked, turning to Ashlyn.
“In our cabin?” Gentry asked.
Blaire tossed him a frown, but he only shrugged. “It’s small, and there’s only the loveseat. Here would be better. Asher will be gone most of the night, and there is an extra bedroom. Win-win.”
Ashlyn glared at the ignoramus. Of course, he would want her separated from Blaire so she couldn’t remind her about her life outside of his clutches.
“I could sleep here with you,” Blaire suggested. “It’s a twin bed in the guest room, but we could squish.”
“No. It’s fine,” Ashlyn gritted out with a forced smile. “I’ll sleep here, and we can talk more in the morning. Over coffee and a bagel? There’s a breakfast place I passed in town.”
“Oh.” Blaire frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well…it’s just that Mila and I were going to do breakfast. You’re welcome to come! We’re going to Jack’s at eight in the morning. I just don’t want to cancel on her. She’s been looking forward to some girl-time.”
“Great,” Ashlyn muttered, feeling like the third wheel on Blaire and Mila’s stupid friend-date. “Eight o’clock.”
“Ash,” Blaire said, sympathy pooling in her eyes as she reached for her.
She squeezed Blaire’s hand fast and then made her way to the door to avoid showing her friend how badly she was hurt by all this. “I have to get my bags,” she announced.
“I’ll carry them in,” Gentry said from behind her.
“No, thank you!” she said too loud. He hunched his shoulders as if she’d hurt his ears. With an empty smile, she said at normal volume, “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need your help.” Ever, dick-weevil.
Gentry threw his hands up in the air in surrender. “Suit yourself. It was really nice to meet you.”
“Well, it was really weird meeting you.” Cult leader. Ashlyn cleared her throat loudly and lifted her chin. “Good night.”
“Ash…” Blaire murmured, pity tainting her name.
“I said good night!” Ashlyn turned and bustled onto the front porch and slammed the door too hard behind her.
Stupid Rangeley, and stupid sales lady who told her she looked good in the pink ski suit, and stupid Roman and his stupidly big dick, and stupid Mila-the-new-best-friend, and stupid Gentry for putting a spell on Blaire and ruining everything. And stupid her for coming here in the first place!
Blaire wasn’t coming home. Not unless Ashlyn reminded her of everything she’d left behind. Not unless she reminded Blaire of what normal was, and that didn’t include living in a nudist colony with three mountain men.
Disproportionately angry, Ashlyn stomped down the porch stairs toward her rental car. She slipped twice and barely caught herself on the black ice, and by the time she reached the passenger side of her car where she’d shoved all her luggage, she was crying. And true story, crying in frigid temperatures like this was miserable. Her tears were freezing on her cheeks.
She wrestled her pink luggage out of the tiny car, and immediately, a wheel popped off when she dropped it on the ground. The stupid little cylinder went rolling away like it was a professional escape artist. Ashlyn looked dejectedly after the wheel, urged on faster by the wind, and then shouldered her two duffle bags full of shoes and began dragging the suitcase across the ice.
Movement caught her attention on the edge of the woods near the cabin, but when she scanned the trees, there was nothing there but shadows. Still, the fine hairs lifted on the back of her neck as she got the distinct feeling she was being watched. She forced her legs to move double time, nearly slipped again, and then bullied the broken suitcase up the porch stairs to the big cabin. Her noodle arms were shaking by the time she reached the front door, and Ashlyn swore to goodness she would try harder in yoga when she got back home. No more slacking off to watch the hottie who liked to do his perfect-form downward dog in the front row. Time to build up her own muscles because she would never turn into a lovesick, doe-eyed boy-chaser. Boy-chasers joined cults, apparently.
Ashlyn shouldered the door open and frowned at the empty living room. Someone had built a fire in the hearth, but the room was empty. “Hello?”
No answer. Clearly, everyone left through back doors around here. More weird shit, yay. The broken wheel was going to scuff the wood floors, so Ashlyn picked it up, cursed her need to overpack for a one-day trip, and wrestled the luggage up the stairs. First bedroom on the right looked like the guest room. The bed was made and the drawers empty. Blaire had been wrong about the twin bed, though. This was definitely a queen. Score.
She didn’t bother unpacking. She was staying optimistic that Blaire would see the light, and they could leave by mid-afternoon tomorrow. Goals. That, Ashlyn could do. Set short-term goals, reach them, make more goals, reach them, repeat for infinity. That can-do attitude had gotten her far in life.
She readied for bed and felt watched again when she was brushing her teeth. She scanned the room behind her through the open bathroom door, but there was nothing there. Asher had put her on edge with his “you’re standing in a ghost” comment. Creepy McCreeperson.
Creepy but hot. Asher was even hotter than Yoga Andrew. Asher would look glorious in some little tight tights in the downward dog position, mmmm. Ashlyn smiled to herself a
t her naughty thoughts, jumped into bed, bullied the covers, and fluffed the pillows until she had the perfect nest.
The room had an old-fashioned clapper light, so she clapped twice and grinned when the lights turned off.
Now she was in the dark, like Asher enjoyed. He’d almost kissed her earlier. She’d felt his hand on her cheek, his nearness, his intent. And when the lights had come on, he’d been close, his gaze focused on her lips as if he’d been able to see in the dark. There had been a split second when she saw his eyes before he pulled away. Pretty eyes. A really light, silvery blue.
It had been months since she’d been kissed, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wanted him to. How exciting to kiss a stranger who looked like Asher.
Asher and Ashlyn. Hmm. Maybe she would doodle their names together in her sketchbook tomorrow just for funsies. “Ash and Ash,” she murmured into the darkness.
So grumpy, so mysterious, so sexy and utterly kissable. His hand had been gentle on her cheek. Ashlyn brushed her fingertips across her cheekbone to remember the feel and the warmth of him.
Too bad she was leaving tomorrow.
With a sigh, Ashlyn rolled onto her side and hugged a pillow.
If she wasn’t on a rescue mission, Asher would’ve been fun to play with.
Chapter Four
Crouched down, head canted, Asher watched Ashlyn’s sleeping form in the dark.
His Dark Wolf was hunting. The Taker was hunting. Asher couldn’t stay away from her. The blue color around her, the scent of her shampoo, the shade of lip gloss she wore on her lips. Did he want to kiss her or consumer her? He didn’t know yet, but there was this desperation in his middle to find out.
Earlier, he’d circled back to the inn and watched her cry as she took her luggage out of her car. He’d watched as she set down her blinding pink suitcase on the ice, only for the wheel to pop off and roll across the slick surface. He’d watched the defeat in her eyes as she tracked its progress across the icy asphalt. And then he’d watched fear consume her face as she’d listened to her instincts that she wasn’t alone, and she froze right there in the middle of the blustery parking lot.
He’d seen that same fear a thousand times. It filled men’s eyes when they got too close to him and recognized him as other. It filled mothers’ eyes when they walked too near and had to hustle their children farther away because their protective instincts told them he was monster. But seeing it in Ashlyn’s eyes bothered him in a way it hadn’t ever before. If she saw him—really saw him—saw the black wolf with the silver eyes, she would run in fear.
But why the fuck did he care? She was a stranger.
Ash and Ash. He’d been sitting right outside her room when she’d uttered those words, his back against the wall while he’d listened to her get ready for bed. She’d put their names together. Well, at least she’d put nicknames together. No one called him Ash. He was Asher. Except when he and his brothers were kids, they’d called him Basher when they deserved to have their faces pummeled and he obliged them. Which had been often.
So, she was thinking of him, just like he was thinking of her.
But then again…maybe he’d imagined it. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to want something beautiful to think of something dark like him.
He’d crept into her room as soon as her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep, but something irritating pulled at his instincts. Something was happening outside. Asher stood from where he crouched near the door and strode silently for the window. He scanned the winter woods outside but didn’t see anything.
Kill them. Asher frowned at how urgently his inner wolf had whispered that. Kill who? There was no one there. Protect her. Asher shook his head hard. His wolf was clearly in the first stages of madness. Maybe this was how it was for Gentry and Roman. Maybe the instinct to covet and protect got overwhelming around an interesting female.
Interesting female? That didn’t feel right. Ashlyn was taking up every thought he had right now. A wolf howled in the distance, and for some reason, it made him angry. It felt directed at him, though it had to be miles away. He didn’t recognize the voice, but then again, he hadn’t been around the Bone-Rippers enough to have their songs memorized. Maybe the pack was hunting tonight. That’s probably why his wolf was worked up.
Kill them.
Jesus. Asher linked his hands behind his head and tried to calm his instincts. They warred for him to stay posted right here, protecting Ashlyn’s sleeping body from absolutely nothing, or going out into the woods and starting another war with all the damn wolves in Rangeley to get them to shut the fuck up. Ashlyn was tired. He didn’t want them to wake her up.
Kill them before they hurt her. Asher’s wolf was scratching at his skin now, making his flesh tingle with the first phase of the Change. He needed to calm down. There was nothing in the woods that would hurt her. He was the only danger here.
Ashlyn made a soft sleep sound that resembled a happy sigh. Asher forced his gaze away from the woods outside and turned, gazed at Ashlyn. The blue moonlight highlighted her pretty cheekbones, and right now, her long lashes were resting on her cheeks, and her lips were relaxed into an almost smile. Of course she probably smiled in her sleep. She was naturally happy. Mine. He tested the thought just to see if a creature of darkness like him had the ability to feel something real for a woman like her.
He needed to leave but couldn’t make his legs move toward the door. Instead, just to see if he could without hurting her, Asher moved two deliberate steps closer to the bed. The blue around her was pulsing, calling to him. Two more steps, and he reached out and touched the bed. Two more steps, and his knees brushed the edge of the mattress. She let off the cutest fucking sleep sound he’d ever heard and rolled toward him.
Ashlyn slept right in the middle of the bed, and that told him two things. One, she was a bed hog. And two, she hadn’t slept with a man in her bed for a while, so she was probably single. A soft, satisfied rumble worked its way up his throat, but he cut it off so he wouldn’t wake her. God, what was that noise? His wolf had practically purred like a damn housecat.
He wasn’t hungry. The Taker was sleeping still. Maybe he could just touch the blue.
Asher sat carefully on the edge of the bed, ready to bolt from the room if she stirred. She didn’t. She smiled in her sleep and scooted closer by inches. He liked to think he drew her in, like she was doing to him.
Ghosts were lining the room now, staring at them, waiting for…something.
Asher dragged his gaze down her body. She wore a thin-strapped nightgown and had shoved the covers down to her hips. She slept on her side, a pillow encased between her knees. He’d never been jealous of a pillow before, but there it was. Carefully, he leaned forward and ran his palm against the edge of the blue. It pulsed again and wrapped around his hand, all the way up his forearm.
And still…The Taker slumbered.
He was breathing too fast, and his heart was banging against his chest like a war drum. He scooted closer and brushed a curl from her cheek as gently as he could. The corner of her full lips lifted in a quick smile. The blue had crawled up to his shoulder, but he wasn’t feeding on it. It was hard to breathe.
She made him feel good. Quieted the wolf in him, quieted the black fog. Ashlyn took up all of his attention, every bit of his focus.
And still…The Taker slumbered.
Impossible. Impossible that he could be this close to a woman for this long. This close to an aura that would taste of freedom and happiness, and still he didn’t want to eat her up. He wanted to touch her skin instead.
Losing his mind completely, Asher laid down gently beside her, facing her. He rested his knee on her pillow—the one between her knees. The blue stretched around him like an embrace, covering him completely. The buzz of magic in his head died to nothing. The constant snarl of his wolf died to nothing.
And still…The Taker slumbered.
He would just lay here for a little while, and watch her face while
she slept. He would just lay here and feel the blue without devouring it. It was like rain on thirsty soil, and his skin prickled with a pleasurable sensation where it touched him. He closed his eyes as the hollowness inside of him faded away. Just a few minutes, and he would leave her to sleep in peace, because he couldn’t fall asleep beside her. The Taker would wake up and want her. He could drain her dry in her sleep without him even waking up, and something about that made him hate The Taker inside of him even more.
Ashlyn was giving him a few moments of peace. Okay, perhaps giving wasn’t the right word. He was stealing a few moments of peace from her. Still, he owed her protection. From himself.
Just a few minutes, and he would leave her alone.
Swallowing hard, Asher eased closer and rested his hand on the curve of her waist. He could feel her hipbone through the thin material of her nightgown. God, she was beautiful. She looked like an angel here in the dark, blanketed by that pretty blue. Blanketing him in that same blue. Angels and demons weren’t a match.
Asher’s eyes grew heavy, and his body relaxed muscle by muscle as he watched her sleep.
Just a few minutes, and he would leave her alone.
Just a few minutes of quiet.
Just a few minutes more.
And still…The Taker slumbered.
Chapter Five
So warm. Ashlyn scrunched up her nose and stretched, then moved closer to the warmth that snuggled against her back.
That warmth had a boner.
Her eyes flew open, and she looked down at the giant muscular arm that was draped across her waist. Yep, those were Asher’s tattoos on the hand. What the hell had happened last night? Oh my gosh, did we…?
No.
Asher was sexy, and she hadn’t taken a single sip of alcohol last night, so she would’ve definitely remembered sex with him. Plus, he was twice her weight. Literally. Sex with him would’ve squished her like a caterpillar, and she was still breathing.
Well, now what?