Shifter's Choice

by Annalise Nixon

“Not sure yet.” Candy winked. “Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you posted.” She stopped walking at the top of the gravel path, studied the landscape, then sighed. “It’s beautiful. If I actually liked people, I would have considered moving to Calistoga.”

  “You don’t like the unwashed masses?”

  “In small doses, yes, but to have to smile and be friendly for extended periods of time? Not so much.”

  “Remind me not to offer you a job at Sanctuary.”

  Candy snorted.

  “So what kind of work do you do?”

  “In a former life, I flew helicopters. I thought I told you that.”

  “You may have, but I was a little distracted by the tears.” Ones he hoped never to see again.

  “That was…” She turned away from him, but not before he spotted the flush on her dark cheeks.

  “Something you obviously needed.” Unable to resist holding her, Wyatt pulled Candy in front of him, then wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s okay to not be strong all the time.”

  “In theory, but we don’t all have a choice.”

  “You do now.” This was nice, holding a woman outside of his pride for something other than sex. Soothing her gave him a sense of power that had nothing to do with fangs or politics. That she would allow him to witness her vulnerability more than once was probably a minor miracle. While Wyatt hadn’t known Candy long, spending his life in a bar was a PhD in human behavior. Candy was a woman used to dealing with her problems on her own.

  He pressed his cheek against her hair, which was still in two long braids, and inhaled. Candy’s skin conjured images of sunshine and laughter. That was all nice, but if Wyatt held Candy much longer, he’d be tempted to skip lunch and go straight to dessert. And what he had in mind wasn’t served in a restaurant.

  “We’re late.” He kissed the back of her neck, then stepped back and smacked Candy gently on the ass, and he was rewarded with a wink and a wicked smile.

  Interesting.

  They strolled further up the gravel walkway, veering right when they reached the massive wooden double doors that led to the tasting room and gift shop. The large stone building and the accompanying vineyards were amongst the oldest in the area, and their wines the most expensive.

  “Wyatt, this place looks closed,” Candy whispered, despite the abandoned parking lot.

  “Come on… Don’t you trust me?” His phone buzzed in admonition, and Wyatt ignored it.

  “Uh… No. I don’t know you like that.”

  “Yet yours was the first face I saw this morning.”

  “And your point?” She reluctantly followed him around the side of the building, staring at the ivy-covered brick. Occasionally, she’d brush a finger along the leaves of a bush. “You don’t know me either, I could be a—“

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m close to the top of the food chain, I think I could handle it. Besides, that’s what today’s about.” He paused, and his gaze drifted down to her lips. “I may not know much about you, but I do know that you’re loyal and love hard and deep.” Wyatt smiled. “It would be nice to have someone care about me like that.”

  Candy’s eyes grew wild, and her scent spiked. The scorched scent of panic replaced her delicate lemony smell. Wyatt ground his teeth. Great, now he’d freaked her out.

  “Come on.” Wyatt grinned, hoping to ease her discomfort, then tugged the handle of another massive door and stood aside to allow her to pass through.

  It was hard to decide which he liked more: her scent, which had returned to normal, or catching another glance at those perfect fitting jeans. They were faded and baggy enough that she didn’t look as though she were trying too hard to impress, but tight enough to appreciate what may be Northern California’s best ass. With a hand at the small of her back, Wyatt guided Candy through the employee area, followed by a couple of lefts and rights until they reached the lobby, where he was supposed to meet his hook up.

  When they stopped, Candy looked up at Wyatt, her head adorably tilted to the side, and studied him. This was an instance that he wished he could read minds—at least hers. What did she see when she looked at him? A man who’d sacrificed and lived for his people? A player? Or the pampered prince who wanted one thing—one woman who belonged solely to him.

  “Hey, everything alright?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “It is.” Wyatt’s phone vibrated, for what must have been the tenth time since he left Sacramento, but he chose to give Candy the attention she deserved—all of it. “I’m glad you agreed to spend the day with me.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice soft, lips curved in a tiny smile. “Where’s the restroom?”

  “Over there.” He pointed past the empty tasting bar to a small alcove with grapevines painted over the arch. Before she moved from his side, Wyatt placed his hands on her hips and gave her a kiss so light, their lips barely touched. “I’ll wait right here.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Damn.

  When the bathroom door closed behind her, Wyatt scrubbed a hand down his face. His beast demanded he go protect his woman, mark her before a male challenged for her hand. But the man… What the fuck was he doing? His future, from the morning he slid screaming into the world, was pre-destined. Wyatt’s one purpose was to lead his people and to find an acceptable mate to create future generations.

  Where did Candy fit into that picture?

  Hell, it was clear that for him, Candy was a dangerous distraction, but damned if he could walk away. The phone vibrated again. Well, he had a couple of minutes, it couldn’t be that bad. Wyatt reached for his cell, then balled his hands into fists. No. No way in hell would he allow work, the pride, or even his family to interrupt. Not today. They could have him tonight, but this afternoon belonged to him and Candy.

  “Wyatt.” Tina Chow, one of the beautiful and deadly owners of The Chow Winery, walked across the iron catwalk, her high heels tapping a staccato tattoo as she strolled down the stairs like a Chinese-American Scarlett O’Hara. “I was surprised to see you on the books. Why didn’t you call?”

  “I’m here for personal reasons, but it’s… not that kind of visit.”

  “Ah, which is why you called my brother.” She glided closer, which put every bit of the grace and danger of her tiger on full display. “And how is Bryce?”

  Wyatt looked down at the six-foot tall Tina, who with the addition of sky-high heels, was almost his height. There was a reason tigers didn’t form large packs or join mixed groups like his; they didn’t play well with others. Especially the women. But Tina was funny, with a wicked dry sense of humor, and was clear about what she wanted in both the boardroom and the bedroom.

  “He’s good.”

  “Wyatt, good to see you.” Tony, Tina’s twin, called out as he crossed the lobby, clasping Wyatt’s hand and pulled him in for a hug.

  Tony might have looked like the masculine version of Tina, but in temperament, he was her opposite. Where his sister was cunning and cool, Tony was laid back and warm. Until you pissed him off and he ripped out your throat.

  Tony released Wyatt and looked at his sister. “Don’t you have small children to terrorize or something?”

  “That sounds like a lovely idea.” Tina grinned.

  The smile was one that would have scared the hell out of villagers in the days of old. Not just the flash of teeth, but the intention in the green irises with streaks of brown.

  “Anyway, call me when both you and Bryce are in town and have time for that kind of business.” She kissed Wyatt on the cheek.

  A small gasp made Wyatt curse silently.

  Wyatt looked at his date, forgetting about Tina. Not to compare the two women, but Candy was just as beautiful in the fitted yellow t-shirt and jeans. She didn’t need heels and designer clothes to stand out. “Candy,” Wyatt said, tugging her to his side and kissing her temple. “This is Tina. Her family owns the winery.”

  “Hi.” Instead of going st
raight to bitchy, or tucking herself against Wyatt’s side, Candy smiled. “I haven’t seen much, but the grounds are beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I’m Tony.” He stepped forward and shook Candy’s hand. “And she was just leaving.”

  “Enjoy your date and our winery, Candy.” Tina looked at Wyatt. “Tell your partner in crime not to be a stranger,” she said over her shoulder as she left.

  “Will do.” Wyatt slipped his hand in Candy’s back pocket.

  “Come this way.” Tony led them past the bathrooms and through a pair of wooden doors inlaid with stained glass decorated with harvest scenes. If anyone bothered to look close enough, they’d see a tiger or two.

  “I’m surprised you’re closed on a Saturday,” Candy said, looking around the cavernous room with large stainless-steel vats which held the first stages of what would be spectacular wine.

  “We have a private event tomorrow, and they paid for both days.” Tony shrugged. “Hey, it’s their money to waste.”

  “In other words, Wyatt got lucky.” Candy nudged Wyatt with her hip.

  “Which is what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Wyatt raised her fingers to his lips and kissed her soft knuckles.

  “I was trying to get lucky last night, but you were playing hard to get,” Candy whispered.

  Tony snorted.

  “Please tell me he didn’t hear that,” Candy muttered, then scrunched her face as they walked down a wide set of stairs.

  As they descended, Tony gave Candy the abbreviated history of the winery, not the sanitized version he typically gave the masses, but the version that explained how the family created a business that kept them out of the public eye and the difficulties of being not only shifters, but Chinese shifters in nineteenth century California.

  “And… here we go.” Tony opened another door, this one more functional than ornate.

  The scent of wine was as thick as blood, and probably worth more than a gallon of O-negative from the veins of a thirty-year-old virgin. Hey, vamps had peculiar tastes. The last thing Wyatt wanted from a woman was blood. But looking at Candy’s slender neck, he could see the appeal of claiming his mate with a bite.

  Wait, where the hell had that come from?

  Candy stepped into the room and gasped. “Wyatt… this is—” she didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she spun around, face- planted against his chest, and wrapped him in her arms. “Thank you.”

  Wyatt returned the hug. The gesture was so honest and pure, it choked him up. Instead of candles and simple food, Candy responded as if he’d showered her with her weight in gems. As he pressed his cheek against her hair, he knew he’d give her the world if it were in his power.

  Tony cleared his throat. “I’ll ah… leave you guys to it. Wine and appetizers are on the table. I’ll let the staff know you’re here.”

  “Thanks, man.” Wyatt slid his hands down to Candy’s waist. “I owe you one, Tony.”

  “No, you don’t. Happy is a good look on you, Wyatt. Don’t screw it up.” Tony walked toward the door.

  “Thank you, Tony.” Candy turned and rested her cheek against Wyatt’s chest.

  “You’re welcome. Oh, and don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll put out tonight.”

  Wyatt couldn’t see Candy’s expression, but whatever it was made Tony chuckle.

  “Oh, I can see why you chose to keep this beauty to yourself. Text if you need anything.” Then he closed the door behind him.

  “Keep me to yourself?” Candy looked back at him. “What’s that about?”

  “Nothing.” Wyatt led her to the table. “Let’s see what we got here. I hope you like goat cheese, because—”

  Candy stopped walking. “Grief isn’t the only reason I date infrequently.” Candy shook her head. “You know what? Never mind.”

  “No, I want to know, because unless you have some Dr. Jekyll going on, I’m having a tough time understanding why you’re single.

  “This is our first time hanging out, let’s keep it light.”

  “Correction—anytime candles and wine are involved or you’re on the back of my bike, it’s definitely a date.”

  “Alrighty,” the small wrinkles between Candy’s eyebrows eased and her voice softened, “it’s a date.”

  The voice, the smile, and damn, everything about her hit Wyatt right in the chest. Shouldn’t he be excited to share his joy with Bryce, his best friend? They had talked and dreamed about finding a woman and sharing a true mate over the years. When Evan, a wolf from Bryce’s pack, and Barron, a bear, had rescued and fell in love with their true mate, a distant dream had become a possibility.

  But sharing Candy with anyone—even his best friend—left a bitter taste in Wyatt’s mouth.

  “Have you ever been in love?” Candy asked.

  Wyatt shook his head.

  “Well I have, and it exposed me to the kind of hurt I wouldn’t wish on the vilest of people. Maybe I’m just one of the select few destined to live a life alone. That, or my man-picker is broken, since it usually points me to men who cheat, lie, or die. Did that answer your question?”

  “That…” he scratched the back of his neck, “sucks. But I have no intention of doing any of the above.”

  Bryce and four other members of his pack strolled past the line of hapless humans waiting to enter Sanctuary. A few months ago, this would’ve been another Saturday night where the entire Norcal pack came to Sacramento to get drunk, laid, and loaded up on supplies.

  Those days were over. With Iris expecting and the other human women now a part of the pack and their lives, most of them stayed behind at the pack house and made their own fun.

  Tonight, they still planned to get drunk and dance, but Bryce wasn’t sure about the laid part. Lindsey, one of the new humans, had invited him to share her bed. That would make life too complicated for his taste. Oh, he could give her tons of orgasms, but love? Not going to happen. Because Bryce couldn’t get Candace Murphy out of his head. She’d never been far from his thoughts, but lately, he’d become obsessed.

  The lead he’d chased down on Murphy turned out to be a bust. It wasn’t her at all, and the address he’d gone to had been empty for years. But Bryce found Murphy’s mother’s maiden name in a pile of papers. Using an assumed name to purchase real estate to stay under the radar was something Murphy would do, but why?

  Maybe it was time to stop chasing that dream.

  “Stop snarling,” Lindsey said, nudging Bryce with her shoulder. “You’ll never fill your dance card. Wait…” Lindsey tapped her chin. “Then again, keep doing that.”

  Bryce smiled at the feisty female. She really was a beautiful woman. The strawberry-blonde hair and splash of freckles across her nose made Lindsey appear soft and innocent—but he knew better. The woman was like a honey badger. She’d try to avoid trouble, but if you brought it to her doorstep, be prepared to pay the price.

  They walked through Sanctuary’s thick double doors and Bryce grinned. Ah… his second home. The bar had grown from a small corner pub in a solid blue-collar neighborhood, to the hub of shifter and supernatural nightlife in Sacramento. All were welcome and all were safe. The rules were simple: no bloodshed, no magical coercion, and no harming the humans. Breaking those rules could be fatal.

  Too many had learned the—

  Bryce froze. A sweet, haunting, and familiar scent rocked his world as it wafted past his nose.

  “Please tell me you’re not one of those guys who refuses to dance?” Lindsey asked, raising her voice over the dance music.

  Bryce shook his head and inhaled again, and as if he’d imagined that unique scent of lavender and woman who wore it, the scent disappeared.

  “Nope,” Bryce finally answered, “I have theories about men who don’t dance.” Memories of him and Candy dancing until they were damp with sweat brought a wistful smile to his lips and a phantom ache to the area where his heart used to reside.

  “You’re thinking about her again…” Lindsey stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“We all have our shit, Bryce. There’s no reason the two of us can’t deal with ours together.”

  “Yeah, but things could get messy when we’re done.” He lowered his chin. “And make no mistake about it—we would end.”

  “It’s just sex, Bryce. Nothing more, nothing less.” Lindsey accepted two beers from Jake, one of the pack members, with a nod of thanks, then handed one to Bryce. “There’s no shame in finding comfort in a friend’s arms.”

  Maybe Lindsey was right, but he didn’t want comfort. Bryce wanted his fucking mate back. Want was too weak a damned word. It was almost like his life was a ticking bomb, and the clock was about to run out.

  Bryce took a long hard pull on his beer, then really looked at Lindsey. Fucking her, at least tonight, was not a line he was prepared to cross, but dancing, that he could do. Bryce finished off his pilsner and sat the bottle on the counter. “Okay, Ms. Lindsey, let’s see what you got.”

  She walked in front of him and tossed the words casually over her shoulder. “I hope you can handle it.”

  So did he. So the fuck did he.

  Bryce’s gaze drifted down to Lindsey’s slim, but very nice ass, and he thought that maybe, maybe they could be a match. She already had the respect of the women in the pack, and she hadn’t shown any interest in any of the other pack males. He could do far worse. Lindsey was strong, capable, and quite resourceful. And had he mentioned ruthless?

  Yet despite her positive attributes, Bryce and his wolf refused to give up on their mate. But this was one of those instances where the man was in charge. Maybe ten years was long enough.

  Fuck it. He and Lindsey had reached the middle of the smaller of the three dance floors, when Bryce wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. “Are you sure you want to cross that line, Lindsey?”

  “Don’t be afraid,” she said, patting his arm. “I’ll be gentle.”

  “Smart ass.” He spun her around. Looking down into those lonely hazel eyes. He decided to take the leap, hoping like hell this didn’t go bad. “I’m not marking you.”

  Lindsey shook her head. “If you think I’m asking for love, don’t. I don’t know that I have it in me to give.”