Shifter's Choice

by Annalise Nixon

  Wyatt’s obsession with this human woman could destroy a lifelong friendship.

  The Woman who could destroy them both

  The tenth anniversary of her former team’s plane crash is not the night Candace Murphy wants to spend alone. 0.

  So she heads to Sanctuary, Sacramento’s hottest shifter bar, with a short dress and a big plan—get drunk, get laid, and get over it. The best way to get over a man is to get under another one, right? Unfortunately, one night in Wyatt’s bed turns her life from no way to why not? But just when she’s finally met a man who makes her feel alive, a ghost walks into her life, turning her world upside down.

  Now she’s caught in a dilemma—embrace the future or cling to the past?

  Or is there a third choice?

  Shifter’s Choice

  A Norcal Shifters Novella

  Annalise Nixon

  Some mistakes sneak up on you like a mosquito, sucking you dry, and you don’t realize it until it’s too late. Others, Candy thought as she juggled the shoes and purse in her right hand while pulling the bedroom door closed with the left, hit you like a Mack truck. The blond, beautiful, and funny man she’d left lying in bed was the latter variety.

  The bedroom door closed with a soft click, and Candace Murphy finally exhaled, but not too loudly. No… Mr. Sexy Cat-Man might spring out of bed and keep her in his admittedly kick-ass flat. The sleek bookcases filled with actual record albums, books, and pictures of his family were cool, but her favorite were his barstools shaped like giant cupped hands. Quirky and a tiny bit weird. Just her style. Which was exactly why she had to get out of there.

  Walking into the midst of hungry carnivores dressed like a juicy steak last night had been intentional. Candy’s mission when she sashayed through Sanctuary’s doors was to get laid and forget her loss for just one night. Sanctuary was a bar. How hard could it have been? But that man behind the bedroom door had been the wrong man. Not because he’d been anything other than perfect. Not because in the one night she’d known him, Wyatt had managed to make her laugh and push every one of her buttons, but had remained a champ when she’d given him shit back.

  No, Wyatt Edwards was the wrong man because he made her feel again, when all she wanted to do was forget.

  One look at the silver pen and pad set on his desk sent a twinge of something close to guilt through her, because she sure as hell hadn’t planned on wasting any time executing her great escape. But he deserved a note. He’d been kind, funny, charming, and unfortunately—a perfect gentleman. Yeah, screw the note.

  Candy had finally reached the door and unlocked the bolt when a pair of strong hands appeared on both sides of her head. Then a mere two seconds later, six feet of lean muscled man pressed against her back.

  Why did he have to smell as good as he looked?

  “Good morning.” Wyatt pressed a warm, wet kiss against the side of her neck. “Please tell me you felt at least a little bad sneaking out of my bed.”

  “I didn’t want to wake you.” She plastered a fake, hey-new-friend smile on her face and turned. Big mistake. Mr. Perfect was shirtless, reminding Candy of what a hot piece of man-meat she was walking away from. Candy looked up into a pair of stunning eyes that reminded her of a brown topaz pendant she’d picked up at an estate sale. “Well, you’re here now, so goodbye.” She nodded expecting him to back up.

  He didn’t.

  Then Candy made the mistake of looking at his mouth. That wicked, beautiful, and very talented mouth and sighed.

  “What was that for?” One side of his mouth quirked up.

  “I have a ton of things to do today. The movers are coming in a couple of days, and I’m already behind schedule.”

  “Let me get dressed. I’ll help.”

  “Absolutely not.” She slid her arm through her thin purse strap like it was seduction-resistant armor.

  “Chicken.”

  “Look,” she said, leaning the back of her head against the door and trying not to act like a besotted fool. “I’m not good at the hookup thing. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “Not an issue.” Wyatt rubbed the side of his eye, and it made him look younger, more vulnerable. “Plus, I’m pretty sure hookups include sex, so you’re still not good at them.”

  “About that—”

  “Is this where you tell me I’m a nice guy.”

  “Oh, you’re not nice—not at all.” Candy smiled, remembering the dancing and shots of tequila. Impulsively, she kissed his slightly pointed chin. “I had a wonderful time last night. Thank you.” Placing her hand on the short light blonde hair on his chest, Candy allowed herself one last touch. “But I have to go.”

  “Two questions,” Wyatt blurted out.

  “Then you’ll let me go?”

  “Just tell me there’s no one home waiting on you, wondering where you are.”

  “It’s a little late to be asking that isn’t it?”

  “We haven’t done anything bad enough to send you to confession.” He bit down on his lip “Yet.”

  “Maybe according to the logic of Wyatt. But how would you feel about me waking up with another man?”

  “You wouldn’t need to be with another man. I’d bust my ass to make you happy.” He ran his hand across one of her two flat braids. “Nice. So why were you sad last night?”

  “I wasn’t sad. I was drunk.”

  “Not at first. What were you trying to forget?” He tugged the dangling end of her braid, then wrapped it around his finger. “Or should I say who? I can kill him if you want.”

  Candy jerked as if she had been punched. Unknowingly Wyatt had just delivered a right jab to her heart. Before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Too late.”

  He was already dead…

  They all were.

  Bryce, her lover and friend, along with his team had gone on one last mission without her and had never returned. There was no mending the wound his absence left in her heart. There wasn’t enough booze or sex to wipe his memory away. Because she sure as hell had tried. A couple of guys over the last ten years had wanted to make a go of it, have a real relationship, but no matter how hot the sex, her heart remained untouched.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Wyatt took her purse and shoes and tossed them to the side, then enveloped her in what had to be the best hug she’d had in years. “I’m an ass. I’m so sorry.”

  What kind of shifter voodoo did Cat-Man wield? Once again, she couldn’t stop herself. Candy planted her face against Wyatt’s chest, squeezing her eyes shut, needing that dam to hold tight, because once she…

  A lone tear escaped, rolling along the side of her nose before tracing the curve of her lip. Then it was over. Candy shuddered, and the pain she’d shoved deep down in the recesses of her soul escaped like a weed bursting through concrete.

  “It’s okay. I got you,” Wyatt whispered, then gathered her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a bag of sugar. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, but I had people to share my grief.” He sank down onto the mahogany-brown couch. “I get the feeling you didn’t.”

  She wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer, but she wrapped her arms around Wyatt’s shoulders, tucked her face against his neck and shook her head.

  “I’ll be your person, if you’ll allow me,” he whispered, then kissed the side of her head.

  That was all it took. Ten years of pain and longing, one hundred and twenty months of what-ifs leaked not only from Candy’s eyes, but from her soul. She refused to believe that memories were a terrible thing, but the agony… the agony was like a boil that had grown and pressed against her until she needed to have it excised.

  How long they sat on the couch, Candy wasn’t quite sure, but as the tears slowed, she felt freer, lighter, and absolved of the guilt she’d not confronted until that afternoon on a stranger’s couch.

  She’d been their pilot. Candy was supposed to fly the last of the team’s missions before they separated from the Army, but for some reason that h
adn’t happened. A small part of her believed that if she’d been there, the crash could have been avoided. Not because she was a better pilot, but even back then, Candy had premonitions—knew things.

  Things like the team shouldn’t have stepped foot onto a helicopter without her at the stick.

  “How you doing?” her sexy savior asked.

  “Better.” They were lying on the couch now, with her resting on top of him. “I bet you wish you would have let me leave.” Candy wiped her eyes and whispered a small prayer of thanks that she hadn’t snotted all over him.

  “Not a chance.” Wyatt’s hug tightened before he kissed the top of her head.

  That felt nice and his arms safe. It had been far too long since she’d allowed anyone close enough to be comfortable sharing vulnerable moments. Maybe it was time to let go of the guilt and the grief. She hadn’t died with Bryce and Shane. Maybe it was time to start living again.

  “I know you have a busy day ahead, but what about your night? I’d love to cook you dinner or take you out to eat if you prefer.”

  Candy pushed up and looked down into Wyatt’s kind, handsome face. He was everything Bryce hadn’t been. Even though Sacramento was landlocked, Wyatt had the whole tousled blonde hair, tawny-eyed surfer boy thing going on, whereas Bryce had been darker and dangerous in a way that people had teased him about always measuring his adversaries for a coffin. Despite Wyatt’s almost happy-go-lucky attitude, she suspected a layer of steel lay behind that smile. And damned if it didn’t turn her on.

  “What was that look about?” One of his dark-blonde eyebrows quirked up.

  “Don’t be so suspicious.” Candy laughed, and it felt… real. She rubbed her nose against his and wanted to do something that she could afford or risk. Allowing Wyatt to sweep her off her feet and give her the fairytale, even for a little while, sounded tempting.

  Too bad happy-ever-after wasn’t in her future.

  But hey, happy-for-now was almost as good. Candy pushed herself up, holding her torso up with her arms. This was a man she wanted to know. Even if they didn’t work out, which they probably wouldn’t since shifters tended to mate and marry their own, Wyatt could be her training-wheel relationship. The rebound guy. “If you’re not working, I’d love to spend the day with you. I can finish packing tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to make this the most memorable day of your life.”

  “I bet you will.”

  When the elevator doors slid open, Wyatt wrapped an arm around Candy’s waist and led her into the garage beneath Sanctuary. The Sacramento Pride may not have been the richest shifter group in the area. Hell, they were solidly blue-collar, upper middle-class business owners, but thanks to the bar, solid investments, smart improvements, and strategic alliances, the pride was one of the most powerful groups in the city.

  Row by row, the sensor activated fluorescent lights clicked on as they moved deeper into the garage.

  “Does having your work and private life in the same building get old?” Candy asked, looking around the side of the garage that held the pride’s vehicles. “I mean… it’s probably super convenient for things like picking up women.”

  Her voice held a playful tone, but it didn’t take a nuclear physicist to know she thought he was a player. “To answer your first question, it has its advantages. Unfortunately, it makes it too easy for everyone to find me when something goes wrong. In a bar, it happens frequently.”

  “I bet.”

  “As far as the second part,” Wyatt stopped by a black Ducati and pulled Candy in front of him cupping her neck with one hand while gripping her waist with the other, “I’m no saint, but I don’t use the bar as my personal meat market.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation. I planned to use you for your body too, remember?” She turned her head and dipped her face, placing a kiss on his wrist.

  Wyatt wondered if she knew that allowing a kiss on a vulnerable area like the wrist or throat were signs of trust amongst most shifters and supernatural groups. It sounded corny, but Wyatt knew the moment he spotted Candy, that he wanted her on the back of his bike. And in his bed. He was just glad it had happened sooner rather than later, and that they’d made it to his bike without sex complicating matters.

  He just… liked her. Of course, the fact that she had the most perfect heart-shaped ass he’d seen in ages was a bonus.

  “I hope speed doesn’t scare you.” He winked, then jogged to the cubbyholes holding mostly motorcycle helmets. Candy’s excited laughter followed him. Watching the unbridled joy in her eyes made his chest do funny things. Wyatt always thought the whole recognizing your mate the moment you saw them was bullshit. Now… not so much.

  “I take it that’s a yes?” he asked when he stood in front of her again.

  “Sweetheart, you have no idea.” She ignored the helmet he offered and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course, if you let me drive, I could show you better than I could tell you.”

  “I don’t think so.” He chuckled at her crestfallen look. “Tell you what, when we get out of the city, if you can handle her, I’ll let you take my baby for a spin.”

  “You’d be surprised at what I can handle.” Candy took the helmet and slipped it on. As she fastened the straps she said, “Just so you know, I plan to take you for a spin later, too.”

  “I have no problems with that.” Wyatt smiled, nodded, then said, “None at all.”

  Bryce stood on the back porch of the pack house, not seeing the rising peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, nor the trees and cabins on the two-hundred acres he called home. No, watching the motley crew he considered pack and family was what filled a chunk of his heart with pride.

  Even the jackasses unfortunate enough not to be born wolves. That made Bryce chuckle. Barron, Alexander, and their mates had long ago declared that bears were too cool to be in a pack. Yet somehow they rarely missed barbecues, runs, or the mandatory weekly pack breakfast.

  “Oh mighty and benevolent alpha, are you going to come play, or just gonna hang out up here looking like king of the mountain?” Rose, looking like a red-haired Valkyrie, grinned up at him from the yard.

  “About time you acknowledged my greatness.” In a pack filled with former Special Forces soldiers, Rose held her own. Hell, she did more than hold her own, she helped come up with innovative ideas to reinforce their lands, some of them magical. The wards and traps Rose and some of the women placed around the property were both practical and fantastical.

  Rose took the six porch stairs two at a time before coming to a stop beside Bryce and nudging his shoulder with her own. “Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you’re only in charge because the women took a vote and decided your wolves needed too much work.”

  They both laughed, a frequent sound around the pack these last few months. Not that the men hadn’t been content before the Norcal Pack adopted Rose and her group of human women, but the influx of estrogen had altered the dynamics—in a good way.

  “How’re you doing?” Bryce smiled down at the no-nonsense woman and felt a not so pleasant twinge of jealousy that one of his closest friends had found his mate in her.

  “I’m good.” Rose shifted, half sitting on the thick white railing, one leg dangling. She chuckled and pointed at her very pregnant sister, Iris, glaring up at her mate Barron. “Way better than him, the poor bastard.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for him, he probably deserves it.” Bryce jerked his chin. “Plus, look at him. He’s loving every minute of it.” Iris, with her dark hair and the sweet half-sleeve of tattoos on her arm, reminded Bryce of Tinker Belle’s curvier sister. The stubborn woman had a huge heart and enough sass to keep both of her mates in line.

  And there went another twinge in the center of his chest. Not all of Bryce’s years in the Army were great. Despite how it ended, overall, there were more good years than bad, and a fuck-ton of adventures. But nothing compared to the joy and turmoil that Lieutenant Candace Murphy, brought with her when she walked through the doors
of his last unit. Bryce frequently relived every moment he’d spent with Murphy, the good and the bad. Over the last ten years a ton of questions haunted him, yet he had only one regret—not fully mating her when he had the chance.

  “You’ll find her,” Rose whispered.

  Shit. He didn’t bother looking at the always-blunt Rose. Pity, even from her pretty hazel eyes, didn’t sit well with him. “From your lips to the goddess’s ears.”

  “I’ve never met anyone more deserving of happiness. Look at this.” She motioned to the back forty with a thumb. “Look at what you’ve created. Don’t think it’s not appreciated. That you don’t make a difference, because you do. Me, my sister, Sherry—”

  “Please don’t remind me about that one.” They both chuckled. It had taken her a while, but Sherry had finally shifted. And when her beast had appeared, it hadn’t been a grizzly bear like her mate Alexander. No, the insane woman had been gifted with her mother-in-law’s animal—a freaking polar bear.

  “I’m sure she’ll get tired of prancing her big ass around, reminding us all how special she is.” Rose’s voice was painted with humor and a whole lot of love.

  Those three women had gone through hell and back to find their mates and each other. From the looks of things, they’d done well.

  “I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen a person so happy to be in their animal form.” Bryce looked out at his people as they enjoyed the last days of summer. Some played cornhole and volleyball, the cheers, jeers, and laughter making the day even more perfect. If perfection was thing. On the far left side of the yard, a hog roasted in a pit while a couple of the guys battled over who’d tend the grill.

  The only thing missing were cubs. But thanks to Iris and her mates, their pack was poised to have the first wolf cubs born in Northern California in years. Or she could have a bear, or hell, even something in between.