The Alpha Claims A Mate

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The Alpha Claims A Mate Page 5

by Georgette St. Clair


  “Everything okay in here, folks?” he asked. “I just need to measure these windows so I can put in new frames, if it’s not a bother.”

  “That is a fascinating regional dialect,” Winifred said. “Is your original pack domicile located in regions Northwest of here?”

  “Uhhhh….” He stared at her, baffled.

  “She’s saying she loves your accent and asking where you from,” Marigold jumped in helpfully.

  “Oh! Thank you, ma’am. My folks hail from Alabama,” he nodded politely and walked to the end of the room with his toolbox. Winifred’s gaze briefly followed him and then she quickly turned back to her plate of eggs. Ginger thought that Winifred

  A car horn blared out front, making Ginger jump.

  “Lover boy’s here!” Marigold trilled.

  “Watch yourself, or I swear I’ll…I swear I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?”

  “I’ll make empty threats of violent retribution which I have no intention of actually carrying out,” Ginger snapped.

  “Yeah, I thought so. Enjoy. Especially when he asks you out on a date. And you’re not allowed to say no because you promised,” Marigold said smugly.

  When she got outside, the sheriff was standing outside the cruiser holding her door open for her. Ginger grudgingly had to admit that, even if the sheriff was the biggest flirt in Blue Moon County, at least he was a gentleman. She tried to remember if Ashmont had ever opened doors for her. Ashmont was big on women’s lib, which was usually nice, but every once in a while, a woman just wants to be treated like a lady, Ginger thought.

  “You look nice today,” Loch said, giving her an appreciative once-over.

  Ginger blushed. “Why, thank you,” she said. “Just something I threw on.” After half a dozen outfit changes. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “This morning we’ll just cruise around town for a little while. I thought you might like to go for a run later. I could show you some of the sights.”

  “A run? In the woods?” Ginger asked, startled.

  He gave her that smile again, the slow, amused curl of his lips that made her heart beat faster and heat pool between her legs. That smile should be registered as a lethal weapon, she thought. It was just unfair.

  “That’s where we usually do it out here. We can run through the center of town, if you want.”

  “You mean, like, a run…without our clothes on?” a blush crept over her cheek and up her throat.

  “Well, darlin’, I’ve never shifted and run in my clothes. Have you?”

  “Er, no. But I’m a little self conscious about my body,” she muttered. A little? A little didn’t even begin to cover it.

  He glanced at her, his gaze running slowly up and down her body like a warm caress, and she quickly crossed her arms over her chest to cover the hardening of her nipples.

  “Why? You’re blessed, the way I see it.”

  She’d never seen it as a blessing. The constant stares and questions had started in kindergarten and had never let up. “My, you’re quite…unusual looking for a werewolf.”

  She had to admit, though, the appreciative stares she’d gotten from men ever since she’d arrived in Blue Moon Junction were quite gratifying.

  Before he could pursue the topic of going for a run any more, his cell phone jangled in his pocket and he pulled it out.

  “Hello, grandmother. Right now? You sure you need my help right now? Maybe I could send over one of the boys instead? All right, fine, I’ll come over.”

  He sighed. “We’re taking a brief detour over to my grandmother’s house. Hope you don’t mind.“

  “Of course not,” she said with a smile. Especially because, if his family was anything like hers, there was major potential for watching his grandmother embarrass the heck out of him. Ginger was supposed to behave herself around the sheriff, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t live vicariously.

  His grandmother lived on the outskirts of town, in an old red farmhouse with an iron rooster weathervane on the roof.

  She was waiting for them on the front porch when they pulled up. She waved at them as they walked up her driveway, beaming at Ginger. She was short and chubby and her hair was piled high in a bun on top of her head.

  “Well, hello, hello!” she smiled, and held out her hand to shake Ginger’s hand. “I’m Wilhelmina, but my friends call me Willie. Do come in, I’ve made iced tea.”

  “I thought you said the fence needed mending.” The sheriff shot a narrow-eyed look at his grandmother. “You said all the horses were going to get out and run into the road.”

  “Oh, it was just one fence post was leaning over a little bit. I pushed it back up. Iced tea’s on the kitchen table. Don’t be rude to your guest, now.”

  “Grandmother….” Loch said, shooting his grandmother an indignant look as they trooped inside.

  “Yes? By the way, she’s every bit as pretty as everybody’s been saying.” Willie’s voice sank to a whisper. “She’s got childbearing hips. I approve.”

  “Grandmother! Seriously! I will turn around and leave right now.”

  Ginger was delighted to see a stain of red on those broad, high cheekbones. The sheriff was actually blushing.

  The sheriff, usually so self assured and in control, was utterly mortified by his grandmother, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

  The kitchen was decorated with pictures of wolves of all ages. There was a long wooden table in the center of the room. Willie had set out sweet tea in mason jars topped with sprigs of mint, along with plates piled high with meltingly sweet chocolate brownies.

  “This tea is delicious. I’ve never tasted anything like it,” Ginger said.

  “Ancient family recipe. Of course, if you were going to settle down here, I’d share it with you.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my grandmother,” the sheriff said, shooting Wilhelmina a warning look, which she ignored as she poured more tea for Ginger. “She’s becoming extremely senile.”

  “Nonsense. How are your brownies, dear?”

  “Incredibly delicious,” Ginger grinned. This trip had turned out to be an unexpected treat. The sheriff had been making her squirm for days now; it was fun to see the tables turned.

  “In fact, we’re thinking of putting her in a home,” Loch continued, glaring at his grandmother. “She’s a danger to herself and others.”

  “Why, I think your grandmother is delightful.” Ginger flashed a smile at the sheriff. “I could come here every day. Especially if it meant more of this iced tea. And these brownies? Heaven.”

  “Yes, my grandmother sure can cook. Grandmother, we really need to be going. I’ve got work waiting for me back at the station.”

  “All right, but you bring your new girlfriend here any old time that you want. How about this Sunday? Sunday works for me.”

  “We’ll see,” he muttered. He glanced at Ginger, who was holding a brownie in front of her face to smother a laugh.

  Ginger turned to Willie. “Willie, would I be able to take a few of these brownies with me? It’s for a good cause.”

  “Certainly,” she said happily, and grabbed a Tupperware box from a cupboard. She quickly put a dozen brownies in it. “There’s more where those come from. You come by any time.”

  As they started to walk out the door, his grandmother put her hand on Ginger’s arm. “Why did you turn my grandson down when he asked you to dance?”

  Ginger paused, startled. “Well…it was the way he asked me. He just marched right up and barked ‘Dance with me’…not even so much as a please.”

  Willie shot him a look, and cuffed him on the side of the head.

  “That is not how we raised you, Lochland Connall Armstrong.”

  He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Grandmother, please.”

  Ginger sighed. “Why can you get away with that and I can’t?”

  “Well, dear, as family I do have certain privileges. But he’s the Alpha of our pack, so while I may chast
ise my grandson, I do it discreetly. And not in public.”

  “Point taken,” Ginger nodded, and followed him out to his patrol car.

  “That was delightful,” she said as they climbed in the car. “Can we go there every day for a nice long lunch?”

  “No, we can not.” He glowered. “Are you giving me a hard time? Aren’t you supposed to be trying to please me so I give a good report to your Alpha?”

  “You know, you’ve got all these women in town simpering over you and kissing your butt. I think I’m going to take a different approach.” She buckled her seatbelt. “Can we go check on Cletus before we go to your office?”

  “Sure thing. And don’t think you’re escaping punishment for your sassy behavior back there, young lady.”

  “Oh really? What did you have in mind?”

  “Let’s just say you’re lucky you’re not a member of my pack, because I’d likely put you over my knee.”

  A sudden image of her over the sheriff’s knee flashed through her mind, and a wave of heat rolled over. She stifled a whimper.

  In her mind’s eye she was naked, and squirming, and he was firmly restraining her with one hand and bringing his other hand down on her bare buttocks.

  She pressed her lips together tightly and tried to think un-sexy thoughts as they drove. Ashmont’s image flashed through her mind. How they always had sex with the lights off. How he only liked it missionary style.

  “Here we are,” the sheriff said, pulling up in front of the community center, which was smack in the middle of the Main Street shopping district. They were on a big lot of land, set back from the sidewalk that led to all the little shops up and down the street. Like the sheriff’s office, it had a big sign with the Blue Moon junction logo of a wolf howling at the moon.

  They both climbed out of the car. “Can you follow my lead?” Ginger asked. “Just agree with whatever I say.”

  Cletus was in the garden, running his hoe through the dirt. He wore a handkerchief on his head.

  “Hey, Cletus, glad to see you made it,” the sheriff said. He glanced at the garden. “You made some good progress here. If this keeps up, I might be able to recommend you to the town’s public works department for a full time job.”

  “Really?” Cletus looked startled.

  “Swear to God. I’m impressed.”

  “By the way, Cletus, I thought maybe you could help me out with something. I’m trying to learn to cook, and I made these brownies this morning, but nobody will try them for me.”

  She pulled the Tupperware container full of brownies out of her purse and held them out to him, making a sad face. “Everyone says that city girls can’t cook. Even the sheriff wouldn’t try one.”

  Sheriff Armstrong sighed, but nodded. “Yep. That’s true. I don’t believe city girls can cook.”

  Cletus took the container of brownies, bit into one, and his face lit up. “City girls sure can cook! Wow. I got to find me a city girl.”

  “See? I told you!” Ginger flashed an ingratiating smile at the sheriff.

  “Okay, I believe you. In fact I think I’ll try one.” He reached for the Tupperware container.

  “You had your chance!” Cletus walked off quickly, shoveling two brownies into his mouth at the same time.

  “Nice one,” the sheriff said in a low voice. “You have a way with people, Miss Ginger. You really do.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Yep, sometimes. When you put your mind to it.” Was it her imagination, or did he look a little hurt when she said that? Like he wished she’d put her mind to it for him?

  His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the number and scowled. He grabbed the phone and answered it. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Ginger, and turned and walked to the edge of the yard.

  Ginger walked over to Cletus. “So, is everything else going all right?”

  “Sure is. I’m saving the other brownies for my brother and sisters.” He smiled shyly. “You sticking around town, then?”

  “Ahhh…” Ginger felt a sudden flash of guilt. She had a feeling that Cletus and his family really needed a friend. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Really?” His face lit up. “That would be nice. Not too many people around here will talk to me.”

  Crud. She’d gotten his hopes up. Why had she lied? She couldn’t stay here. She had a job waiting for her back home – maybe. She had an overpriced apartment with a view of another apartment building’s air conditioning unit. She had an aversion to walking in fields full of cow patties.

  “You know, when I put those coins back in the fountain…I made a wish,” Cletus said, staring down at the ground.

  “Oh? What kind of wish?”

  “I can’t say or it won’t come true.” His face wrinkled anxiously. “You think the wish will still work if I was using stolen coins?”

  “Well, you were actually returning those coins at that point, so, uh…maybe?” Ginger’s heart ached for Cletus. What would he wish for? Clothing without holes in it? Food in the refrigerator?

  “I better get back to work.” He set the box of brownies down on the bench and grabbed the hoe.

  A couple of well-dressed women walking by glanced at him, and one of them clutched her pocketbook closer to her chest.

  “Isn’t he that dirty Arbuckle boy?” one of the woman said loudly.

  “Certainly is. I don’t think he’s had a bath in his whole life.”

  Cletus’ face fell and he turned and began raking the dirt again, without a word. His eyes glittered with hurt and humiliation.

  “Of course he’s dirty, he’s working in a freaking garden! Where there’s dirt! Maybe if you ever did a day of work in your life, you’d have room to talk!” Ginger yelled after them.

  They flashed her a shocked lock. “What are you looking at?” she snapped, and they turned and hurried off.

  “Don’t tell the sheriff I said that,” she told Cletus. “I’m already in enough trouble with him.”

  “Join the club.” Cletus was smiling now.

  The sheriff strolled over to them, tucking his phone in his pocket.

  “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Cletus said.

  “What he said,” Ginger added. He gave her the skeptical eyebrow raise, but didn’t say anything.

  Ginger followed him to his car. “You looked a little perturbed by that phone call.”

  “It’s nothing. Call from the council.”

  “The shifter council?” The wolf shifter council was a big deal. They oversaw all matters for wolf shifters in their respective state.

  “Yes, that’s right. Nothing to worry about. Anyway. We got to head out. There’s trouble at the dig,” he said.

  Chapter Seven

  To reach the dig, they drove down a joltingly bumpy country road for a mile and a half, until they finally reached a clearing by an old, dried up creek bed. There were several tents set up there, and outside the tents were tables and folding chairs, and a cluster of SUVs.

  There was already a patrol car on scene when they arrived. Jax and another deputy were arguing with a group of panther shifters who were standing by a cluster of pine trees. The students were in the creek bed, sifting through dirt.

  “You’ve got no damned authority here! None!” Jax was yelling at them. The shifter he was talking to, a tall muscular man with black flowing hair streaked with gray and white, who wore a traditional loincloth and buck skin boots, looked as if he were about to change form and throw down. Hair was bristling from the tips of his ears, and his eyes glowed yellow, as Loch and Ginger rushed up.

  “Settle down, everybody. I’ll handle this. Montgomery, what’s going on –“

  “These damned panthers”- Jax rushed in.

  Loch spun on Jax with a growl, and his claws shot from his hands. His eyes blazed amber, and the bones in his face rippled and lengthened. Within seconds his face was covered with hair and his teeth sharpened into fangs.

  For a brief second, Jax�
��s eyes sparked with fury, but then he quickly backed down and went down on one knee, bowing his head.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he muttered.

  “You’ll wait in the patrol car.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jax didn’t look happy about it, but he obediently climbed to his feet and loped over to his patrol car without a backward glance. His deputy glanced at Loch for guidance, and Loch inclined his head towards Jax’s car. “Go,” he said in a low growl, and the deputy ran after Jax.

  He turned back to Montgomery and made a polite incline of his head. “My apologies,” he said. “My lieutenant spoke out of turn.”

  Professor Reese was standing there, arms folded, glowering at Montgomery. “No he didn’t,” he said petulantly. “Your deputy was right. This man has no authority over me. He can’t tell me to do anything.”

  Montgomery glanced over at Ginger. “Who’s this?”

  “Ginger Colby.” She thrust her hand out to shake hands with him. “I’m delighted to meet you. I’ve heard so much about the Panther nation. I teach a unit on them to my fourth grade class in New York, you know.”

  “I’m always happy to meet people who are respectful of our culture.” Montgomery inclined his head politely.

  The panther shifters who were standing with him came forward and made a point of shaking hands with Ginger, while eyeing her appreciatively. “Tommy Deerkiller,” one of them said. “I own the souvenir shop. Come by any time.”

  My God, Ginger thought, I love it here. I am going to call all of my fat friends and make them vacation here with me, so help me God. This is chubby chick heaven.

  She heard a low rumbling growl and glanced over at Loch, who seemed to be struggling to contain himself. Quickly, she stepped back. He wasn’t actually jealous, was he? He couldn’t possibly be jealous.

  Although she found herself oddly flattered at the thought.

  “These are my pride mates, Richard Iron Claw and his son Jason Strikes True.” Montgomery nodded at two panther shifters who were standing by his side, muscular men with the shining black hair of their tribe pulled back into pony tails.

  “Perhaps we could give her a tour of our property.” Tommy smiled at her lasciviously. “Since she’s so interested in our history.”

 

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