by Jane Jamison
“I wish they’d used a photo with you in it.” Mariah was the one who craved attention, not her. “Knowing Mom and Dad, it was probably more a matter of which picture they could get to load. You know how bad they are at techy things.”
“Yeah, but still.” Mariah shrugged.
“Besides, I’m the one who looks like I just woke up from the dead.”
“Mm. Maybe. But in the end, looks don’t matter, anyway. If you believe in the connection.”
The connection thing again?
The invisible bond between mates was a subject Mariah loved. She’d go on for hours talking about what she hoped her future mate, or mates, would be like. How handsome they’d be. How strong they’d be. And how great they’d be in bed.
“Uh-huh. You say appearance isn’t supposed to matter if you’re connected, but you sure talk about how great your mates are bound to look.” She cringed, realizing how bitchy she sounded.
“I just know they will be. Don’t you ever think about what your mates will be like?”
“I guess. Although I’m in no rush. If it happens, fine. If it doesn’t, I’ll survive.”
Although she’d never admit it to her sister—she’d never hear the end of it if she did—Eden thought about her future mates often. Not so much about how handsome or sexy they’d be, but how wonderful it would be to have one, maybe even two, men love her unconditionally. And how she’d love them back with an equal amount of passion.
“It’s weird, if you think about it. You’re the one who wants to remain single.” Mariah spun the desk chair around like a little kid would. “Not me. If two hunky guys came along tomorrow, I’d jump all over them. Hell, I’d lasso them and make sure they never got away.”
“If they’re really your mates, you won’t have to lasso them to keep them. Just take it easy, okay? You’re only twenty-five. You’ve got plenty of time.”
Sometimes she wondered if Mariah wanted to find love more than she should. It didn’t happen often, but a few shifters had mistaken lust for the connection. They’d ended caught up in the wrong relationships, unable to claim their true intended mates when they’d finally come along.
Mariah made a sexy face. “Oh, I’m easy, all right.”
“That’s not what I said.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I need to get to work. So do you.”
Thankfully, Mariah had introduced Eden to Roberta Winslow, the werepanther who owned Roberta’s Diner. Being a waitress wasn’t her idea of a fun job, but it helped pay the rent on the house she shared with her sister.
Eden’s cell phone rang, but before she could pick it up, Mariah snagged it. “Hi. Who’s talking, please?”
Her frown deepened. Mariah, however, just grinned.
“Oh, hi, Dad. What’s up?” Mariah glanced at her again, gave her a strange look, and then swiveled the chair around, putting her back to Eden.
She tried to get her sister to face her again, but Mariah kept spinning the chair. “Let me talk to them, too.”
“Really, Dad? That’s amazing.” Mariah nodded, signaling she’d let Eden talk before she hung up. “Uh-huh. Sure I will.”
What was so amazing? Having her mother call wasn’t unusual, but her father rarely picked up the phone. She’d tried numerous times to get them to video-chat, but they didn’t like how the video would often freeze. Twisted’s Internet provider wasn’t very reliable.
“Uh-huh. Of course I will, Dad.” Mariah spun around again.
Eden finally gave up. Why play along? When her sister was finished, she’d get to talk.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for calling.”
“Wait.” Eden reached for the phone and took it away. “Dad?” But the call had already ended.
“Oops.” Mariah took off for the bedroom.
“Why didn’t you give me the phone?”
Her beautiful yet annoying sister spun in a circle, but never slowed down as she rushed away. “I’ll beat you to the diner and then you’ll be the one coming in late.”
Damn. Mariah was right. Roberta was a good boss, especially considering she was a werepanther, but she hated it when employees were late. Eden had seen her fire another waitress for being late too often.
Instead of chastising her sister—after all, what was the point?—she stuffed her phone into her purse, grabbed the keys to her old Pontiac Firebird, and rushed out the door. If she got a chance, she’d give her mother a call later.
* * * *
John was worn out. He and Ford had taken turns, driving all night from Phoenix to Twisted. The trip would’ve been shorter, but they hadn’t found the small town on any map or GPS system. A search on the Internet didn’t help, either. If they hadn’t ended up in the nearby town of Crosston by accident, they’d probably still be on the road.
“This is the place,” said Ford. He slumped, the long drive getting to him, too.
The Rocking Porch Bed and Breakfast was exactly how the bank manager in Crosston had described it. The two story place had a downhome feeling with plants hanging from the porch. The place was cozy and, hopefully, cheap. Still, who knew what they’d find inside?
“Think she fed us a load of shit?” asked Ford.
“Maybe. I’ve never trusted black panthers much. Plus, she sure got ticked off at us staying in Twisted instead of Crosston. What was her name again?”
“Georgia Gill.” Ford stretched, letting out a groan. “Let’s stay away from her.”
“Agreed.” John’s weariness eased a little as excitement took over. “We finally made it. We’re in Twisted. Now all we have to do is find her.”
An African-American woman came out of the house and crossed her arms. “Are you two coming inside or are you going to sit there and stare at the place?”
“Think she’s another panther?”
John put on a smile for her benefit. “I don’t think so, but let’s be extra nice to her. Maybe she knows where we can find Eden.”
“Good idea.”
John waited until Ford was out of the truck and walking toward the woman. Her hair was filled with gray and she couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds sopping wet, but an underlying strength was easy to see in the way she held her head high and her back straight. He hurried to catch up.
“Hi. Are you Lena Fortran?”
John was usually the one who made the pleasantries, but he’d let his friend handle her.
“I am. Do you boys need a room?” Her blue eyes regarded them, digging deeper than any superficial gaze could.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She waved them inside. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Welcome to Twisted. Come on inside. Oh, and don’t call me ma’am again unless you want your butt handed to you. It’s Lena. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Lena.”
John held back a chuckle. Not many people could make Ford uncomfortable, but the older woman had done it in less than five minutes. “How much are your rooms?”
She waved them into the living room. The furnishings were older, but still in great shape. Photos and paintings of cats, especially tigers, filled the walls.
She’s probably a weretiger.
John didn’t want to sniff and check her out. Sometimes older weretiger females got really riled up, taking it as a sign of disrespect. “I see you’re fond of cats. Mainly big cats.”
“I am.” She gave them a good once-over. “Yes, sir, I do like ’em big.”
Ford took off his hat and held it in front of his crotch. Not to hide any boner, no doubt, but maybe for protection. Again, John held back a chuckle.
“What brings you to Twisted?” She took a seat on the couch and motioned for them to do the same.
Should they tell her the truth? Or would it be better to keep things quiet until they found their mate?
“We came to find our mate.”
For once, Ford had beaten him to the punch. He saw the flicker of surprise cross her face.
“Really? And how do you know she’s here?” Lena leaned clos
er, studying them. “Your mate is a female, correct? Not that there’s anything wrong with you going the other way.”
The chuckle rolled out of him. “Trust me. She’s definitely a female.”
“Do you know her name? Or are you fishing without bait?” Lena patted her hair, making sure every strand was in place.
He doubted her hair would move if a tornado hit it straight on. “Her name’s Eden Provost. Do you know her?”
Another flicker of surprise came and went. “Maybe I do and maybe I don’t.”
Like any typical cat, Lena would hold back until she was sure which way to jump. He risked pushing her for an answer. “Either you do or you don’t. We didn’t come all this way to play cat and mouse.”
Her eyes glittered with amusement. “Of course you didn’t. Yes, I know her. Not well, mind you, because she’s new in town.”
“Where can we find her?” Ford leaned forward and clutched his hat.
Lena relaxed, doing the opposite of them. “Let’s slow down a little. We skipped over a few things. Better to look before you leap, you know. Who are you and where are you from?”
John could sense Ford clenching his jaw, hating to wait even a few minutes longer. Yet if they didn’t answer her questions, he doubted she’d tell them anything else. “I’m John McCaffrey and this is my friend Ford Hiller. I know it sounds crazy, but we saw Eden’s photo online and…”
He hesitated. Would she believe him?
“We felt the connection.” Once again, Ford beat him to it.
“What?” Lena’s hard gaze intensified.
“We felt the connection.” If she didn’t believe them, then they’d find someone else who could tell them where to find Eden. How hard could it be in a small town?
“You sensed it through an online photo?” Her brow knitted. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Neither did we, but both of us felt it.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re feeling?”
“We’re sure enough that we drove all night from Phoenix to get here. Her mother told us she lived here.”
“I guess stranger things have happened.” She stood and, like the gentleman they were, they got to their feet. “Let’s get you two settled. Do you have luggage? If so, then grab it and haul it up to the bedroom on the left. It has twin beds. Or if you’d rather, you can have separate rooms.”
“The twin beds will do just fine.” Ford came back to the sensitive subject of money. “We’re on a limited budget.”
“Don’t worry about the money, honey. Pay me what you can. I furnish the food, but cooking the meals are usually on your own.”
John couldn’t wait any longer. “Lena, can you tell us where to find her? We’ve waited a while to find our mate.”
“You and every other shifter. But I won’t tell you until you’ve cleaned up a bit. You don’t want to meet her smelling the way you do.” She winked, lessening her criticism. “Now go on. Get going and take a shower.”
They’d never moved so fast in their lives, grabbing their bags and getting into their room. Taking Lena’s not-so-subtle hint, they each took a shower and changed clothes. By the time they bounded down the stairs fifteen minutes later, they were chomping at the bit.
Lena was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. “You boys clean up real nice.”
“Thanks.” Ford’s tone was almost a growl.
“And now you’ll tell us where she is?” John gritted his teeth, fighting back his own growl.
“You’re not going to just grab her and claim her, are you? Even with the connection, a girl needs time to get to know her mates.”
“We won’t jump her,” he promised.
“Speak for yourself,” mumbled Ford. When he saw Lena’s pointed stare, he changed his tune. “We’ll take it slow.”
“Lena, do you know? Is she human or…” He’d never heard of a weretiger getting the connection with any other kind of shifter, but then again, he’d never heard of any shifter picking up the connection through a photo.
“You met her parents, didn’t you? What were they?”
“Weretigers, but you know how it goes. Anything can happen with the kids. Maybe she’s adopted.” Although judging by her mother, she had to be her biological child.
“I didn’t sniff her, but I also didn’t pick up on a human vibe, either, so I assumed she was a weretiger.”
“Great.” Not that it really mattered. Their intended mate was just that. Their intended mate. She was fated to be theirs. Human, weretiger, or something in between wasn’t a problem.
Ford’s muttered grumble turned into a real growl. “Damn it. Just tell us where she is, for fuck’s sake.”
“Easy, man.” Yet he was having a tough time holding back, too. “Please, Lena. Where is she?”
“She works at a place called Roberta’s Diner. From what I can remember, she usually has the day shift. I should probably tell you about her—”
“No time.” Ford spun around and stalked toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Thanks, Lena,” John hurried after his friend. They bolted down the steps of the house and were almost in a dead run by the time they made it to their pickup. As usual, Ford slid behind the wheel. He had the engine going as John hopped into the passenger side.
Chapter Two
“Hang on, Ford.”
Ford glanced over his shoulder at John. After going through the inquisition from Lena, he was in no mood to slow down. His mate was inside and he wasn’t going to waste another minute.
Roberta’s Diner was the typical small-town diner with windows running along the front of it. Posters hawking the weekly and daily specials were handwritten. The parking lot was almost full with pickups taking up most of the spots. Men of various ages gathered inside to enjoy having their noon meals delivered by pretty waitresses.
Ford barged through the front door and came to a stop. A sign asked them to wait to be seated.
John came beside him. “Listen to what Lena said. Slow the hell down. We don’t want to scare her.”
“If she’s a shifter, we won’t.”
“Still, seeing you coming at her might override the pull of the connection. All I’m saying is to take it easy.”
“Fine. I’ll do my best to restrain myself.”
He crossed his arms and gave the interior a good look. One waitress, an older woman, wiped down the counter and laughed along with a few of the older men seated there. Judging from their clothes, they were all either ranchers or farmers. Two waitresses floated between the tables, skimming past the row of booths set against the windows. With their sweet smiles and curvy bodies, the girls drew smiles and heated looks from their customers as they kept coffee cups and water glasses filled.
“Do you sense her?” asked John.
Ford went quiet, hoping to pick up the sizzling sensation the connection had given him when he’d seen her photo. “No. Do you?”
John kept motionless as he tried to pick up the feeling. His frown answered before he did. “Shit. No, I don’t.”
“Maybe she’s not working. Maybe Lena had it wrong. Hell, we should’ve asked her where Eden lives.” Disappointment flooded him.
“Don’t give up already. We just got into town.”
John was more of an optimist than he was. Yet giving up wasn’t an option. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Let’s get a seat.” John waved at a pretty brunette waitress.
“I’m not hungry.” They’d hit enough fast food places between Phoenix and Twisted to stay full for the rest of the week. Eating was one thing they did well and a lot of. Although most male weretigers had huge appetites, they’d eaten double what they normally would have. It had helped pass the time during the long, boring drive.
“I never said we had to eat anything. We’ll hang out, drink some coffee, and wait. Maybe she hasn’t come into work yet.”
A waitress hurried over and handed them two laminated menus from the reception stand. “Hi, I’m Lilly.
I didn’t see you standing there. Please, sit wherever you like.”
John started to go to the right where most of the customers already were, but Ford cocked his head toward the other side. There were only a few people seated in that area and he preferred to talk without people overhearing them. They had to plan their next move.
“If we sat over there, we could ask everyone if they know her.”
John’s idea was a good one, but Ford still took a seat at a table closest to the swinging doors leading into the kitchen area. “You don’t think that would freak her out?”
“Not once she met us.”
Ford expected Lilly to come and wait on them. Instead, she went back to the other side of the room. He was about to get up and ask where their waitress was when the swinging doors opened and out walked a gorgeous blonde.
“John.” Suddenly, he couldn’t find any other words to say. Instead, he nodded toward her.
His friend twisted around then turned sideways in his chair. “It’s her.”
We found her. We found our mate.
Her green eyes sparkled as she stopped at their table. “Hi. I’m—”
“You’re our mate.”
She blinked then frowned, lowering her order pad and pencil. “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”
“He said you’re our mate.” John grinned from ear to ear. “You’re Eden Provost, our mate.”
Her lips parted as though she were about to say something. For a moment, Ford was sure she’d deny them. Didn’t she feel what they felt? Weren’t they good-looking enough? As far as he knew, women didn’t consider them ugly.
Why was it taking her so long to respond? She was making him nervous and he wasn’t the type to get nervous.
“Did you understand what he said?” asked John. He gave Ford a confused look.
“Yes.” Her voice was soft like a butterfly’s wings. “You think I’m you’re mate.”