Wolf Nip: Granite Lake Wolves, Book 6

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Wolf Nip: Granite Lake Wolves, Book 6 Page 1

by Vivian Arend




  Dedication

  For Lauren Dane, who wrote the first wolves I fell in love with. I blame her for my wolfie addiction, as well as my genre-hopping tendencies as an author. <3

  Chapter One

  Tessa’s tail twitched.

  Drat.

  She concentrated harder, crouching lower to the ground. Muscles steady, but ready to move in an instant. One deep breath followed after another as she attempted to calm her nerves. Every instinct screamed for her to squirm, to peek around. To check if all her parts were tucked out of sight.

  But then it had been proven that some of her cat instincts were a trifle on the broken side.

  In her cougar form, his scent wasn’t strong enough to hit before his paw pads sounded, and by the time she heard him, there was no way to escape. A warm body slammed into her, and together they rolled from behind the barrier she’d chosen as a hiding spot. Before he could pin her in place, she wiggled free and took off.

  Fine, maybe he’d found her, but he hadn’t won yet. She used her strong cat muscles to dash away through the maze of the gymnasium area.

  No matter how fast she ran, though, her pursuer remained right on her tail. Literally on her tail, and when he playfully patted her hindquarters for the third time, Tessa gave up. She leapt for the narrow ledge along the wall where she’d shifted in the first place. Changing back to human and dressing only took a moment before she rejoined her big brother on the gym floor.

  Tony had also shifted and pulled on nearly identical jeans and T-shirt to hers. His relaxed grin teased her from under his mop of blond hair. “I’d say you did better that time, but I’d be lying.”

  Tessa stuck out her tongue. “Someday I’ll win.”

  “In your dreams. I am the king of the cats, and no one will take my crown.”

  She rolled her eyes and made gagging sounds.

  Tony tweaked her nose. “Face it, brat, your skills lie in areas other than cat-and-mouse games.”

  And there was the opening she’d been waiting for. “Right. So in terms of my skills, did you remember I need your signature on that form at the bank?”

  “Did you remember I said you were nuts?”

  Tessa pulled back her hair into a ponytail and resisted sticking out her tongue again. “You’ve said it so many times over the years, I figured it was code for Hey, Sis, you rock. You didn’t see the place, Tony. It’s incredible. Exactly the kind of establishment I want to manage. The setting is exquisite, and the area just screams eco-tourism, which you know as well as I do—”

  “Stop. Not the eco-business thing.” Tony covered his ears and groaned in mock pain.

  Tessa pounced, grabbing hold of his forearms and dragging his hands free. “Eco-eco-eco-eco…”

  They laughed together, and she knew everything would be okay. She’d been trying since graduation to find a job that fit her skills. Seasickness had nixed the possibility of working for the family shifter-only cruise line, but her trip to the north had one side benefit.

  When she’d spotted the unique building tucked up against the trees, she’d nearly bounced into the ocean with excitement. She needed a little more cash to set her ideas in motion, and her brother had the credit rating to help her get established.

  If he was willing to take the chance on her.

  Tony guided them down the hallway toward the cafeteria. “I signed, sealed. Promised my firstborn kit. All those things. And yes, I’ll admit the eco-tourism part was the selling feature. I’ll back you on this one, Tessa, but please, if you need help, ask? You don’t have to go it solo.”

  “I’m capable. Got the training, the experience. Heck, I graduated with higher marks than you did.”

  He shrugged. “You’re a smart cookie, I’ll give you that. But, girl, this is Alaska you’re talking about. We’ve had a base in the area harbour for years with the cruise ships, but there aren’t a lot of prides around. You’re going to be the only cat in town.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. “I don’t know if I should give you a hug for being concerned or smack you across the head. Are you prejudiced, Tony? I would never have known, not with the way you’ve got friends in all the local wolf packs and—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Tony tugged her forward, and she went willingly enough, although confused how he would talk his way out of this one. “Shifters are cool, and I don’t care what kind. But the reality is we go about things differently. You know that.”

  “Yeah. I shift into a cougar. My best friend Keri shifts and, hey look, a wolf! Different, right? Next bit of kindergarten information you want to share with me, big bro? ’Cause this is so educational.”

  “Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

  “Don’t be a pain, period. What are you trying to say?”

  Tony plopped into one of the plastic cafeteria chairs, and it groaned under his muscular weight. “Fine. Wolves. Pack. Alaska is filled with wolves who could be very territorial about a cat coming into their midst. You’re good with people, Tessa, but wolves can be a tricky lot. Especially when they are the game in town.”

  She fluttered her fingers. “Pshaw. I met their chief pooh-bah. He’s super nice. And Keri is mated to one of the Granite Lake pack, so I’m like already a kissing cousin. There’s not going to be trouble. Really. I promise not to go on any wild rampages and stir up trouble, no matter how tempting.”

  Tony raised a brow. “A town full of dogs, and you don’t feel the slightest urge to cause mischief?”

  All the crazy ideas that flashed to mind could be blamed on that faulty instinct she was working on fixing. “Of course not. I’m a grown woman. This is my career, and I’m capable of suppressing a few urges.”

  This crazy expression crossed his face, and Tessa slammed up a hand. Oh no, they were not going there.

  “Don’t. Don’t even think about giving me advice regarding any other kinds of urges. I will not listen. I will not hear. You cease to exist…blah, blah, blah.”

  Tony sighed. “You’re a cat.”

  “You’re so annoying.”

  “They’re wolves.”

  Tessa wadded up her napkin and threw it in his face. “So, what have you got planned for the next year? Working three cruises? Going to take some time off in the fall and go exploring?”

  Her brother stared at her so hard she swore she heard the gears in his brain grinding, but he was smart enough to drop the subject and switch to chatting about his future plans.

  Because no matter how comfortable shifters were with sex, talking with her brother about mattress mamboing was on the list of things she really didn’t want to do.

  Besides, the point he’d planned on raising she’d already thought through. The place she wanted to buy was on the outskirts of Haines, and wolves were a well-established part of the northern community. Wolves, like all shifters, enjoyed their sexual escapades, but they were more territorial and possessive than the average cat, in bed and out of it.

  Cats and bears and other shifters picked mates when the time was right. Wolves followed some mystical mumbo jumbo and fell in twue wuv when their animal sides sniffed the right person. Which—ick. Just ick.

  Well, maybe not ick—she’d seen it work for her friend, but there was no way she wanted to settle down yet. She’d make sure any urges of the naughty sort were satisfied during playtime with humans. Or visitors to the area. Or battery-operated boyfriends—the list of possibilities was endless.

  This stage of the adventure was about establishing a top-notch resort in the north. And sex, while always enjoyable, was a low priority. Tessa nodded to herself, pleased she’d gotten that straightened out.

  She turned her attention back to her brother and t
ried not to allow her fanciful daydreams about the new resort distract her.

  Mark Weaver stared in dismay across the table at his boss. “But—”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve only been here for two months.”

  The older man sighed. “Which means, according to the rules, now that the season is slowing down and I have to let staff go, you’re the first on the release list.”

  Dammit. “I enjoyed this job. And I worked hard. And—”

  “Mark, please don’t make this any tougher than it already is.” Mr. Remy pushed his pink slip closer. “You are a good worker, but I can only afford to keep two full-time staff over the winter.”

  Double dammit. Mark nodded. “I understand.”

  “If you need work in the spring, I’d be happy to hire you back on. And I wrote you up a letter of recommendation.” A slim envelope joined his release papers on the tabletop. “If I can help you get a job, let me know.”

  Mark shook the man’s hand and grabbed his things, escaping into the crisp fall sunshine of late August. Well, that was an unexpected and bitter twist. He hopped on his mountain bike and considered where he wanted to waste the rest of the gorgeous, yet annoying day.

  Some tough, all-out physically draining exercise would help. If nothing else, it would make his body match the crappy mental state he was now in. Of all the blasted luck.

  Instead of going home, he headed toward the opposite side of town and the Granite Lake pack house. Maybe there would be a few other members hanging around he could convince to join him for a backcountry jaunt. Something to distract him from the fact he was once again unemployed, unattached and unhappy.

  Life sucked. It really did.

  It wasn’t as if he wanted to point fingers and attach blame to make himself happier. He just had shitty luck. His education had never gotten him a job. The jobs he did find vanished from the work pool right under his feet. Okay, to be honest he had mucked up a couple times, but overall he was credited as a hard worker, a great guy…and still shown the door.

  He wasn’t going to be forced to sleep in the streets—the family legacy covered that one. Nope, a roof over his head wasn’t an issue, although the house had become a bit of a trap. He couldn’t leave Haines without losing his rent-free home. He couldn’t sell it to use the funds to set up a place elsewhere. The red tape was frustrating as all get-out, and even that morning he’d gotten a reminder of the chaotic state of his housing affairs. The nicely written proposal for him to sell his unique home to some eco-adventure B&B developer. An awesome idea if it weren’t illegal, and thus impossible.

  Not to mention, there was his Gramps to consider.

  He had food on the table—he wasn’t lazy, or too proud to work any kind of temporary job to keep the money coming in, but a real job? Something he could do for a career? Elusive as the northern lights on a summer day.

  He propped his bike against the wall of the house and shuffled into the common room, the scent of fresh-baked brownies making his mouth water. Less than a dozen pack were gathered in the room, chilling out in easy chairs as they read, a couple of older members facing each other down over a chess board.

  Missy, the pack Omega, swung into the room, her hands full of baking, and he rushed forward to help. “Not that I’m going to complain, but why are you cooking?”

  She smiled and shook her blonde curls as he took the tray. “I promised Tad I’d stay at the pack house today, and if I’m here, I may as well be productive.”

  Mark carried the goodies around the room as he considered her words. That was one of the coolest parts of the Granite Lake pack—even the top levels of leadership were right there and involved. Missy and her mate Tad were occupied with their young family, busy with personal jobs and caring for pack in their weird and wonderful all-knowing-emotional-touchy-feely Omega wolf-shifter way, but they never stopped doing what needed to be done.

  Of course, by the time he’d made the rounds and deposited the remaining goodies on the table, Missy was seated in a chair at the side of the room waiting for him.

  Drat. He should have known he couldn’t avoid a little heart-to-heart. He lowered himself into the chair beside her and wondered how long he could distract her from her lecture, or interrogation, or whatever it was she had planned. “Where are your kids?”

  Missy shook a finger in his face. “Don’t even try it, buster.”

  Mark snorted. So. That’s how long. “Seriously, I’m curious.”

  “Forget my kids. Why are you at the pack house at this time of day, wearing that kind of face, young man?”

  “You like this face better?” He cocked one eye shut and grimaced. “Arghh, I’ve been given me walking papers. Off the plank and into the brig with me, matey.”

  “Oh, Mark. I’m sorry. I thought you were enjoying yourself at the factory.” Missy leaned back in her chair, sympathy on her face.

  “Low season approaches. You know how it goes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll find a new job soon enough.”

  She nodded slowly. “You always do. That’s not a problem. But…”

  Mark took another bite of his brownie and waited. There was obviously something she wanted to share. He stared out the window and calculated the most difficult bike route he could attempt after this little discussion was done. Death-drop highway? His thighs would be screaming.

  Screaming would be good.

  A soft touch to his knee brought his attention back to Missy who watched him carefully.

  He forced himself to focus. “What?”

  “I asked if you’d ever thought about going into business for yourself?”

  A jolt of adrenaline shot through him. Of all the things she could have said, that was on the least expected list. “Umm. No.”

  “Because you don’t…what? Think you can do it? Don’t want the responsibilities?”

  “Of course not. I mean, I just had never thought of it.” She’d managed to jerk all thoughts of gloom and doom from his mind and instead fill it with confusion. “Why would you suggest that?”

  She shrugged. “Well, for as long as I’ve been around the pack, I’ve seen you handle many kinds of jobs. For different lengths of times, yes, but they all seem to have a common ‘handy man’ theme to them. So I was wondering why you’ve never set up a personal business and offered those same services under your own name.”

  Mark felt something hard hit his jaw and figured it had to be the floor.

  Missy went on. “While you might have slow periods, you’d be able to make more money during the prime season than working for someone else.”

  His mouth went dry.

  “You’d have to deal with the legal and financial aspects, of course, but—”

  Whatever else she was going to say was smothered under his arm as he leapt up, bounded over to her chair and enveloped her in a huge bear hug. “You’re a genius.”

  When he released her, she patted his cheek. “So I’ve heard. I take it this means I helped?”

  “Darn tooting you did.” Ideas flashed into his brain. Probably not the same ones she would have figured on triggering, but that was fine. He was no longer looking for a way to burn off his pissy mood. Now he needed to get home and make some plans. “You mind if I run?”

  She grinned. “Go. I’d never stand in the way of a man’s progress.”

  He stopped beside his bike and rummaged through his pockets. He could have sworn he’d shoved the letter in there after he’d read it that morning.

  His letter of recommendation. His firing papers. An old grocery list. Finally, the one he was looking for.

  A very expensive envelope containing the letter that had made him laugh out loud over breakfast. The out-of-the-blue offer to buy his house. The potential buyer hadn’t known about the clauses that made their plans impossible.

  But if he made a few adjustments to the offer, maybe there would be a middle ground where they could meet. He couldn’t sell out, but he could see his place as an awesome B&B location
.

  Mark Weaver, the habitually unemployed was ready to become Mark Weaver, chief resort-maintenance coordinator. And he wouldn’t even have to leave his own home to do it.

  Chapter Two

  A loose strand of hair flapped in front of her face until Tessa tucked it behind one ear. She stared at the approaching shoreline. She’d chosen to arrive via the ocean from Skagway over to Haines instead of driving the six hours from Whitehorse. Not only did it make the trip shorter, it gave her another glimpse of the spectacular house.

  Even though the slow rise and fall of the water was muted on the ferry, she was hanging on to her stomach control by a thin thread. Motion sickness made it tough to linger on deck, but she wanted one more confirmation her idea was more than a wild fantasy.

  She shoved a piece of gum into her mouth and chewed rapidly to distract herself. Nothing had been finalized, but she’d made a decision. She was determined to establish a B&B in Haines, somewhere. Her first choice of location was still first on the list. Hopefully dealing with this Mark Weaver fellow in person would help smooth the roadblocks she’d hit.

  His email response to her offer to buy his house had been unexpected. It wasn’t an outright no, which was positive, but she hadn’t expected a maybe type answer. She knew better than to dismiss his counterproposal out of hand. The best business ideas usually went through a couple modifications before resolving into a working solution, so she’d packed her bags, taken the bulls by the horns, yada yada yada, and arranged a trip to settle the details one way or another.

  The ferry rounded the point and the vista changed. Tessa grabbed the railing with both hands and leaned forward, eager to spot her target.

  Here the northern portion of the Pacific Inside Passage opened into a wide bay, with the town of Haines spread over the center left section. The harbour sat as the base, houses and buildings rising in neat layers up the gentle mountainside. Traces of civilization poked through the trees lining the road as it meandered up the valley to the distant mountain pass. Drivers taking that route would eventually hit Haines Junction and the intersection that led back to Whitehorse or into the bulk of the Alaskan landmass.

 

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