Worst Valentine's Day Ever: A Lonely Hearts Romance Anthology

by Kilby Blades

  She doubted very seriously that there was an actual, real tradition involving the matron of honor and best man dancing. She was pretty sure the so-called tradition was just some shit Bubba made up in order to get her on the dance floor and cop a feel.

  Nevertheless, when he asked her to dance in front of everyone, citing the tradition that no one had heard about, it was easier to just go along with it. So while three hundred of Mac and Diana's closest friends and family looked on, Bubba had taken Vanessa by the hand and led her to the dance floor.

  When they were out of earshot of the mostly non-shifter guests, Vanessa placed a hand on Bubba's bicep and leaned close to whisper in his ear. To most, it would look like a friendly, intimate gesture. But what she said to him was anything but.

  "Make sure you keep your hands where they belong," she smiled and whispered between clenched teeth. He placed his large hands on her waist, and pulled her close to him. She tried not to respond to his nearness, employing the mantra she'd been using around him for the past 18 months.

  Don't fuck the shifter. Don't fuck the shifter.

  It mostly worked. She had to admit, though, that it was difficult when he was so close to her. They stood like that, in the middle of the dance floor, waiting for the music to start.

  "City Mouse, I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

  Bubba looked into her eyes. His mouth was saying the right things, but his eyes were fucking her. Fortunately, the guests were too far away to know what he was up to.

  "I told you, I really do not care for all the nicknames."

  The music isn't starting. Why isn't the music starting?

  "Oh, you are so prickly these days. Everything okay with Gaylord?" Bubba's eyes looked at her with the predatory gleam.

  "I've told you many times, his name is Gavin," she said, invoking the name of her usual plus one, who was unavailable to be her date for Diana's wedding. "Gavin couldn't make it. He had a business trip."

  "If you were my woman, I wouldn't let you attend your sister's wedding alone."

  His voice was a sexy growl that made her catch her breath and sent shivers skating over her skin. It vibrated through her body and went straight to her clit. His voice and his palm planted at the small of her back, just on the right side of decency, almost made her forget her resolve to keep this man at arm's length. She'd had bad experiences with shifter men.

  The music started just then. Dorothy's Gun in My Hand blared from the surround sound. What on earth?

  "Who picked the song?" She asked, thinking this particular song was highly inappropriate for a wedding dance.

  "What, you don't like this?" He asked her, flashing that smile of his again. The man was far too good-looking for words. She wanted to trace his scar with her fingertips…

  Nope. Nope. Nope. Not gonna go there. Nope.

  "Don't tell me you picked this out?" She drew back and looked at him, incredulous. "Did you know that children would be here?"

  The thought had her scanning the crowd for her girls. Bubba must have caught her glance, because he leaned and whispered in her ear.

  "Relax. They're fine. They're having a good time."

  And at just that moment, Vanessa's eyes landed on her twins, who were playing pat-a-cake with Diana's twins, watched over by their grandmother. Vanessa let out a sigh.

  "So they are," she acknowledged.

  "So… about Garfield…" He started, steering her back to the subject of Gavin.

  She rolled her eyes at him. "You mean Gavin? What about Gavin?"

  "When are you going to dump that guy, and ride off into the sunset with me?" His topaz eyes looked into her caramel ones.

  "I'm not. Gavin is a great guy. I have no reason to dump him."

  Also, she and Gavin were just friends. She decided to keep the information to herself. She just didn't want to get into it with Bubba again. She'd been with a wolf shifter before, only to have it not work out. She wasn't going to put her daughters through a process of getting to know someone, getting to rely on them, only to have them go away. Bubba was a player, and she didn't want that kind of heartbreak for her daughters—or for herself.

  "I can think of several reasons why you need to dump him," Bubba said, sliding his hand over her back. His hand didn't move more than a couple of inches, but her back snapped up straight and she found herself arching into him subtly. Annoyed with herself, she relaxed her shoulders again.

  "Everything okay, baby?" He stroked her back again, the same subtle motion that practically had her creaming her underwear a moment before. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, the bastard. Most wolves had a sort of native charm, even the ones that barely had any game. Bubba was an alpha wolf, and had that seductive charm in spades.

  "Everything's fine.” The fact that her voice came out in a squeak that undermined her assertion made her clench her teeth. Oh she was fine, just a little too fine.

  "You want to know what I think?" Bubba asked.

  "Think? About what?" The words were supposed to come out smooth and calm. Instead, they came out rushed and high-pitched.

  He stroked her back again, and she almost came out of her skin.

  "Relax, sweetheart." This time, he combined that back-stroking with a whisper in her ear. His lips grazed the shell of her ear, and she let out an involuntary sigh.

  "I think you use poor Geoffrey as armor. Against me."

  "Wha-what do you mean?"

  He stroked her again, trailing his fingers to the small of her back and applying subtle pressure there. She, in turn, did a subtle arch into his body. She felt a little light headed.

  "I make you feel good, and that scares you. With Gaylord in the picture, you have a reason not to give into me. But you forgot something important."

  She frowned, her hackles raising. "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm a wolf." Again, he whispered in her ear. "I know what you smell like. You don't smell like him. I don't think he's even gotten to first base with you."

  Yeah, that was true. But she was not about to admit as much to Bubba.

  "It's none of your business," she told him.

  He chuckled. "It's absolutely my business. We've been at this for eighteen months."

  "Been at what?" she feigned ignorance.

  "Our courtship," he said simply. She tried to pull away from him, but his hands were like steel bands around her, holding her in place. It was frustrating...and a little exciting. He took advantage of her captivity to bring her a tad closer so that she could feel his...

  Jesus, Mary and Joseph. The man must have stuffed a cucumber down his pants...

  "No. This is not a courtship. I'm not even sure it's a friendship," she told him in a sputtering stream of outrage.

  Goddamn good-looking cocky bastard!

  The song ended, then Michael Jackson's "Give In To Me" started up.

  "Let me guess. You picked this one too? Could you be more obvious?"

  "This is definitely a courtship," he said smoothly. "But I have to tell you, I'm about out of patience. If we were in the old country, we wouldn't even be having this discussion."

  "Oh, is that right?" This man really did take the cake. Vanessa didn't care how big his dick was. She wasn't buying what he was selling.

  "The first time I saw you, I knew you were meant to be mine."

  She scoffed. "Oh no, that's not stalkerish at all."

  "Vanessa."

  She tried to ignore the way he said her name. His voice was too deep. Too intense. Too… everything. She didn't want to feel this way about any man, and especially not Bubba Cermak.

  "Bubba, what is it?" The moment this song was over, she was out of there. He pulled away from her, but kept them both swaying to the music. He looked deeply into her eyes. She saw lust in his eyes, along with something else. Longing. He had longing in his eyes. And she didn't like it. It scared her. It scared her because she thought she knew how he felt.

  "You are my mate. I knew it the first time I saw you. I've tried
to let you set some of the pace. I know you've been hurt before. But I'm getting to the point where I can't wait anymore. There's things I need to go home and take care of, and it will be much better if I have my mate with me."

  After he dropped that bomb on her, and before she could think straight, he had her back in the steel trap of his arms again.

  "I don't do mates," she told him, coldly. "My girls' father wanted to be mates, but I refused. I don’t believe in that shit. And I don't believe that you do, either."

  He frowned at her. "What are you talking about? To wolves, the mate bond is the most sacred thing there is. You think I'm joking?"

  His emotions had turned on a dime. Instead of the passion and longing of a moment ago, she saw pure anger in his eyes. But she wouldn't let him play with her, pretending that his desire to get her in the sack was anything more than pure animal lust. He could never convince her that he was anything other than a player and she was angry that he seemed intent on trying. She was furious at how he tried to play her emotions.

  "Whatever you need to do with your pack, kindly leave me out of it."

  "Vanessa —"

  She ignored the way hearing her given name on his lips made her feel. All shivery and tingling from wanting him to say her name, and having him do it. He was dangerous, and not just because he was sex in a tux.

  Time to get out of here. She didn't care how it would look if she left him alone on the dance floor. This was all about protecting herself now. Protecting her daughters from disappointment. Protecting herself from empty promises. She clenched her jaw and met his angry eyes with her determined ones. She gave him a peek at her emotions, her irritation. Her anger.

  "I have to go," she told him through clenched teeth.

  "Vanessa --" he laced the fingers of his left hand with her right. She looked at their entwined fingers, hers slender and brown, his pale and strong, with veins through the webbing.

  We are one.

  She heard his voice, but his lips didn't move. What the hell?

  We are intertwined already. You can't just walk away from it.

  "I'm not the one for you, Bubba. So just move on. Find someone else."

  Then he did let her go, his fingers releasing hers and she felt a sense of loss, because she missed his warmth. But she didn't want him, right?

  She booked out of there like Cinderella trying to beat the clock before it struck twelve. But her prince just stood in the middle of the dance floor, watching her go.

  He'll move on, she told herself as she made her way off the dance floor. Thankfully, the dance floor had quickly filled up, and half the guests were shifters, so a tall woman rushing from the dance floor didn't attract as much attention as she might have otherwise. She was shaking all over, and breathing so hard she felt about ready to faint. Perspiration gathered on her upper lip. Her makeup would surely need to be touched up, so she headed for the ladies room.

  The bathroom was empty, thank God, and she was able to press cool, wet towels to her overheated skin in peace. She locked herself in a stall and put her head between her knees to catch her breath.

  When she emerged, the party was in full swing. She stood in the corridor outside of the ladies room, her eyes closed as she listened to and swayed with the music. As one song ended and another began, she felt an awareness creep over her skin in the form of an all-body blush. She got goosebumps all over, her nipples went painfully hard, and she knew before she opened her eyes who would be there. Watching her.

  She let out a shaky sigh, and resolved to get it over with.

  When she opened her eyes, it was to a pair of topaz eyes. His eyeshine glowed green in the half-light.

  Bubba.

  Brown-Eyed Girls

  She should have known better than to try running from an apex predator. Hell, the woman had known him for a year and a half—surely she'd know something about him by this time.

  With the wedding now behind them, and her sister settled into domestic bliss, Bubba was about done with pussy footing around. He had long-since gotten past why she was making this so hard for him—and thus, for them. She wanted him, this he knew with certainty. And he wanted her too.

  She liked to pretend that he was nothing more than a pest, but Bubba knew better. Bubba was steeped in the way of wolves, but also knew a little about the way of humans. Mac, his best friend, had mentioned that Vanessa's sister Diana was hard to get.

  She didn't play hard to get. She was hard to get, as were apparently all of the Miller sisters. But Bubba was confident in his abilities to win Vanessa over, and claim her eventually. He had time. They both had time, and it was better to make her all into the idea, rather than try to talk her into something she wasn't sure about.

  These thoughts swirled in his mind as he followed her scent trail to the corridor of the country club that led to the rest rooms. His nose led him to the ladies room. A female icon on the door, along with a concentrated scent signature, confirmed that he had caught up with his mate. He leaned against the wall opposite the closed door and waited.

  Several women exited the restroom, startled at the 6' 5", scarred yet handsome strawberry blond shifter male who seemed inordinately interested in the women's restroom. He got a couple of double-takes and disapproving frowns, as women walked by where he stood, looking for all the world like a pervert interested in the toilet habits of strange women.

  After a few minutes, he started to wonder whether Vanessa planned to come out again. It was past-time to move this courtship along. Hell, his cousin Phelan had met his fated mate, moved in with her, and gotten her knocked up. And Phelan didn't have half the game and his whole body than Bubba had in his little finger.

  Her eyes landed on his, then narrowed.

  "What do you want?" she huffed.

  Pussy? Fellatio? Maybe even doggie-style? He thought.

  “Another dance?” He said.

  Even though what he wanted was a full mounting, shifter style, with her pretty, high ass in the air, his large hand wrapped firmly around her neck, but not enough to cut off her ability to breathe. The dress was a little tight...but he believed he could work around it in a pinch.

  He could steer her back into the ladies room, lock the door, and fuck her in front of the sink, so that their eyes could meet in the mirror, and he could make her look as he claimed her.

  Goddamn, the woman was hot!

  His lascivious internal monologue must have been all over his expression, because she twisted her pretty face into a scowl, and made a beeline around him, headed back to the ballroom.

  She got a few paces from him, and he had to jog to catch up to her. But he didn't move too fast, because honestly, he wanted to enjoy looking at her firm ass for just a few moments more. Vanessa Miller was beautiful, sexy as fuck, and a great mother—she was the perfect mate and wife for an alpha wolf like himself. What was more, he had great affection for Charlotte and Scarlett, Vanessa's twin girls. And the girls loved him.

  She was smart and capable, extremely tenacious (as evidenced by her continual rejection of his courtship).

  And beautiful, and sexy, and…

  Vanessa whirled around and confronted Bubba.

  "Why are you following me? We already had our so-called dance. I'm done with you. Go away."

  She made shooing motions with her hands, turned on her heel, and stalked away. He stood there, baffled, and she strolled her hot ass back into the ballroom. He was only a few paces behind her. Maybe it was a little stalkerish to not give her any space. He was willing to make some concessions to her wishes, but in the back of his mind, he kept a tally of all the spankings he owed her as a result of the insolence she'd shown in the throes of their courting.

  Yes. She would pay. He chuckled to himself.

  Bubba arrived at the ballroom and looked around, trying to spot Vanessa. His eyes landed on her just as she dragged one of his men from the agency onto the dance floor. Blake LaTour, a big, blond minotaur shifter, looked deeply unhappy to be socializing. But his g
ood Southern manners prevented him from turning Vanessa down.

  Vanessa smiled pleasantly at the man, not even glancing in Bubba's direction. He decided to leave well enough alone in favor of socializing with guests. He made his way to the head table. Sitting with the rest of the wedding party would afford Bubba a good view of the dance floor, where Vanessa was dancing with Blake. The other man placed a meaty hand on Vanessa's slender waist, while she beamed up at the man. Vanessa was about six feet tall, and in heels, she was just about eye-to-eye with Bubba. Blake had a powerful minotaur build, wide shoulders, a heavily muscled, "beefy" body that strained the confines of his charcoal suit.

  Bubba took a seat next to Leona Miller, mother of the bride and the matron-of-honor. He liked Leona. She was blunt, straightforward, and she liked Bubba.

  He nodded at the woman. "Beautiful service," he said to Leona, but he kept his eyes on the dance floor.

  "Would have been even better had they held it in a church. With a priest," Leona said, with a huff.

  "Don't worry, ma'am. When Vanessa and I get married, it will be in a church, with a priest. There's a nice parish in my hometown, Perdition, and it's a nice place to live too.” His eyes narrowed and his beast growled in the back of his mind as he watched Vanessa and Blake dance. Did he have to hold her that close?

  "Oh!" she said, smiling and raising an eyebrow at him. Along with their similar complexions and the fact that they all smelled like coconuts, the Miller women were each one of a type and their relatedness was obvious. Even the little girls smelled like coconuts, and they all had confident, vibrant personalities.

  Bubba had often announced his intention to mate and marry Vanessa. Leona was one of the few people who actually believed him.

  "And how is the campaign going?" Leona asked eagerly.

  "She wants me," he gave her a confident smile. "It's only a matter of time. Don't worry, I have this under control!"

  Leona raised her eyebrow again, then tilted her head to one side.

  The song was coming to an end, and Bubba, his eyes still on Vanessa, expected her to say goodbye to her dance partner and head for the head table. Instead, she continued to smile at him as if he were a long-lost friend. Blake's expression remained unmovable. The music started again, and Bubba got to his feet.