Her Guardian Wolf

by Jax Garren

  He shook his head. “No. It’s not a—” That was a lie. He ducked his head. “It’s a bit of a problem. I can beat it.”

  Her hand landed on his shoulder. She’d taken off the gloves, and her hand felt too cold. Shock still had her. He looked up. Her eyes didn’t hold censure. She kept his gaze steadily, assessing him. The fear she’d carried still hung heavy on her. Trusting a stranger was risky, but whatever she feared must be worse. He needed to find out what had happened.

  She shrank away. “Let’s meet tomorrow. We can talk about an arrangement. I don’t have the money to hire you for another week anyway.”

  Unacceptable. Wait…he’d read about something in a book once. What was the phrase? “Be my sober friend. I’ll work for free if you remind me to stay clean. Then we can talk about payment when your commission comes in.”

  She glanced around the yard again, still searching for the man Adam had vowed to bite in half. She didn’t flinch. He wasn’t here. Elle clung to her cat and stared down at her safe. To his shock, she said, “I’ll take the couch. I am going to ask around before leaving with you, but provided I don’t hear anything, you have a deal.” Her hand came out.

  He took it. “Deal. Except I’m taking the couch.” Before she could protest, he shook.

  Chapter Two

  A year and a half later….

  “It’s your night off, Adam. Get out of here. Go do something fun.” Elle bent over in a pair of jeans with an enticingly located hole in the thigh.

  Adam tried not to stare at the swath of walnut skin between the light denim of her jeans and the hint of pink lace at the curve of her lovely ass, but he couldn’t find the willpower to turn away. So he did the next best thing. He told her. “Woman, I’m trying not to stare at your butt, but have you noticed the giant rip in those jeans?” He’d seen almost every inch of her by this point. Almost. Never all at once. Never in a way that invited him to touch. Each time, it drove him a little more to distraction.

  They’d been working together since the fire. In the interim, they’d moved from his apartment to a two bedroom down the hall until six months ago when they’d moved into her fancy digs halfway between Denver and Boulder. He’d quit his job with the fire department, sobered up, and they’d become not just boss and employee but friends. Best friends.

  They were together and she was safe, but he needed to figure out a way to push the relationship further without blowing the good thing they had going.

  She stood up and stuck her fingers into the hole, feeling for the edges. “Oh. That’s bigger than I thought.” She tossed him his keys and wallet, which he’d dropped by the couch before last night’s episode of The Flash. Like they did every week, she’d sat on one side of the couch and he on the other with a good foot and a half between them as they ate bowls of pho and watched Barry Allen save the city again. “Think of me and my exposed ass fondly while you scoop up some lovely lady for the evening, ’kay?”

  “I always think about your ass fondly, boss.” Not just her ass, but every inch of her from her decorated toenails to her brilliant mind. The kind of mind with both the creative juice to craft works of art and the savvy business sense for her career to take off. And by “take off,” he meant Lady Gaga wore her collection at the last Grammy’s kind of success. It made him proud as hell to be part of her life.

  Today, she stood in front of him in a tank top and those ratty, sexy-as-hell jeans, her curls pulled away from her face with a do-rag—a sure sign she planned to spend the evening working on her new jewelry collection for the spring line. She patted his cheek in the familiar way they’d developed, the kind where she touched him in friendly and impulsive ways and he kept his hands to himself so he didn’t do something crazy like drop her onto the couch and lick a path from her jawline to the cleft between her breasts.

  “Seriously. We people need time off. Take it.”

  Except he wasn’t a person. Because she expected him to, he trudged to the closet and grabbed his favorite leather jacket, the one he always put on her when she rode on the back of his bike.

  Oshun hissed at him as she stalked into the room, and he bared his teeth. She didn’t swat at him, though, and he didn’t growl. Apparently they were having a good day.

  “Good man. I’m going to be locked up in my studio, and Billy’s here. It’ll be fine.”

  Adam shot a baleful look at the kitchen where Billy, the guard she’d hired for his nights off, made himself a sandwich. If anything dangerous enough to make his paycheck warranted had occurred in the past year and a half, Adam wouldn’t let anyone else watch over Elle, no matter what she thought he needed. But the guy who’d handcuffed her to the bed hadn’t made a move since the fire. Adam wasn’t sure if the presence of a bodyguard kept the asshole away or if the asshole had given up. Regardless, about nine months into their arrangement, at her mulish insistence, he’d let her hire somebody else for one night every two weeks. It took him another three months to do more than walk around the block. Now he’d relaxed enough to drive the ten minutes it took to get to wildlands where he shifted and ran.

  Getting back in touch with his wolf rejuvenated him. He’d never gone so long without shifting before he’d met her. “Call if you need anything.” He kept the phone collared to his neck where he’d feel if it rang. So far she’d never called, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her while he chased rabbits or something equally animal.

  His mate was beautiful and brilliant, and he was her guardian wolf, waiting patiently until the moment he could be something more.

  It was ridiculous for Elle Williams, jewelry designer, to have a permanent bodyguard like a rock star or congressman. The thought of letting Adam go, though, physically hurt. Elle couldn’t imagine life without his slow smile or deadpan sarcasm, and she didn’t want to. So she paid him well enough that he stayed.

  She slid her hand onto the small of Adam’s back and escorted him to the door. His nights off were the worst. Billy came highly recommended from a well-regarded service, so she knew, logically, she was safe with him. Besides, Phillip hadn’t contacted her in so long she thought maybe he’d given up.

  Maybe.

  The thought of his unnatural eyes still haunted her at night. Sometimes knowing Adam slept a few feet down the hall was the only thing keeping the nightmares away.

  At the door, he lingered, messing with his pockets, and she lingered beside him, letting him pretend he wasn’t wasting time. Why he wasn’t anxious to get some freedom from the monopoly she had on his time mystified her. At first she’d thought he still worried about falling off the wagon, but he’d been clean for months. He deserved more out of life than to be shut up with her.

  After he’d dug every imaginary piece of lint out of his pocket in a ridiculous attempt to look busy, she put her arms around him in a hug. If she didn’t send him off, he’d never go. “Good-bye, Adam.”

  He enfolded her in his strength. His arms were amazing, so firm and beautifully sculpted. His face wasn’t hard to look at, either, tan and broad with deep-set eyes and a jawline emphasized by soft stubble not quite long enough to be a beard but with more oomph than a five o’clock shadow. His honey-colored hair went from near brown in the winter to almost platinum by summer’s end. Oh, and his eyes, the blue of noon skies, she found herself getting a little lost in them on occasion.

  Sometimes she wished she’d met him in other circumstances, ones which might’ve included a date. Maybe more. But their friendship was better than the fickle dangers of a sexual relationship. If she’d learned anything from Phillip it was that trusting your libido over your good sense led to more danger than she’d ever imagined. People changed in a relationship. She couldn’t stand the thought of Adam changing.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice rumbling through his broad chest.

  She still had her arms wrapped around him. Great. She laughed and pulled back so she could see his eyes. “Just want you to remember who you’re coming ho
me to.” Because I’m too selfish to let you find a real girlfriend.

  A slow, lopsided grin made his handsome face devilish. “Like I could forget….” With one hand he tugged up on the waistband of her jeans. Before she could figure out why, his other hand smacked her on the ass—her bare ass. He’d repositioned the hole. “When I have this to come back to.”

  Her butt cheek smarted from the slap, and her breath picked up. Suddenly, the firmness of his chest and heat from his body pressing against hers took on a whole new meaning. Cool air replaced his hand as the fabric dropped back into place, and the wildest desire took hold of her. She wanted him to put his hand right back and squeeze.

  Employee. He was her employee. And they were friends. Doing something like this would fuck up the best relationship she’d ever had. She didn’t even want sex, not after Phillip. It was too messy and complicated and beyond what she felt ready for. But maybe a kiss.

  She squeezed her legs together, trying to stymie a need she hadn’t felt outside her wicked imaginings since her whirlwind affair with Phillip. Oh God, was she biting her lip?

  Adam’s gaze darkened as his arms tightened around her. Dammit, she needed to quit giving him signals—to stop flirting, stop being confusing. She forced a laugh and pushed away, and he let her leave the warm circle of his arms. She took another step back, out of reach and at a distance far less friendly than their usual closeness. It made her sad. She needed to get them back on firm footing. Another laugh, like the tension amused her. “Somebody does need to get laid. Have a good night.” Another step away. She couldn’t look him in the eye, and that wasn’t like her. She forced her gaze back up. His lips parted like he had something to say but it wouldn’t come out.

  He nodded and left without a good-bye.

  Adam ran. His wolf threatened to blast through his skin and turn him back around to his mate in a full-press charge. He couldn’t let it; Elle hated aggression. He hopped onto his motorcycle and peeled out, throttling forward with an intensity he’d never felt before. He barely made it out of the urban sprawl, barely into the safety of the open plains when he let his bike turn to the side and skid into the brush. He launched off his seat, shucked his jacket and pants, and let the wolf out as he sprinted as fast as he could away from the woman he loved.

  ***

  Despite the evening breeze, the heat of Elle’s workshop stifled her. The air coming off the mountains did nothing to cool the sweat from her forehead—or tame the fire in her insides.

  She’d spent ten minutes soldering a corner that should’ve taken two. With a disgruntled breath, she reached for her water bottle, but a scant few drops hit her tongue before it was empty.

  “Fine….” she muttered and shut everything off. She’d never once left the room with something on, not since the apartment fire. Sometimes she still wondered if Phillip had set it or if it’d truly been an accident.

  Not that she’d feel better about him either way.

  She unscrewed her bottle cap and headed for the kitchen, the air conditioner, and maybe a scoop of the praline ice cream in the freezer. Adam had never tried her favorite flavor before meeting her, but upon consumption of one bite had insisted they always keep it on hand.

  He was funny that way, quick to make decisions but faithful to them anyway. She’d always been so cautious, Phillip being a notable exception—and look where that had gotten her.

  So many times she’d wanted to tell Adam what had really happened, but how did she say, I dated a werewolf, without sounding like a lunatic?

  Lunatic. Affected by lunar events. Like a lycanthrope. She shook her head. Sometimes she wondered if she’d imagined it herself, like a weird effect of smoke inhalation or something. Then she’d think about that cold look in his eyes. The prickly way his fur—his fur—had felt against her cheek. No. Werewolves were real. She shivered. She’d tried to find out more about them, but sorting fact from fiction on the Internet had proved impossible. She’d looked for cryptologists and other so-called experts in esoteric fields, but the few she’d found seemed more kooky than reliable. In the end she’d given up, discontent with her ignorance but not sure what else to do.

  The cool air and lemony smell of the kitchen brightened her spirits. Water or ice cream? She stared at the refrigerator, debating whether to open the freezer or press her bottle against the dispenser. Maybe she’d stay up for Adam and eat ice cream with him. Hopefully whatever he did tonight would help ease the weird spike of tension between them.

  The thought of him with another woman made her shoulders clench and her fingers tighten around the water bottle.

  She stretched her neck to one side and then the other. She was his boss not his girlfriend. She had zero right to stop him from seeing dozens of women.

  Water now. Ice cream later with Adam. She didn’t think she’d be going to sleep any time soon anyway, and if he came home smelling like perfume, she’d need the comfort of frozen calories.

  Not that he’d ever come home smelling of another woman. Whatever he did without her, he managed to be discreet about it, and she appreciated that.

  In the movie room, next to the kitchen, Billy watched TV or did something else not particularly bodyguard-like. Right after the fire, she’d wanted someone—okay, she’d wanted Adam—in her sights at all times. Now she’d gotten more lax. The fear had faded into something not quite so desperate, even if it never completely went away.

  The voices in the other room weren’t accompanied by a soundtrack, which was weird. She stopped her cup before tapping the water dispenser, her hyper-vigilant gut telling her to stay silent and listen. Just in case. As she focused on the sound it became clear that the TV wasn’t on. Somebody else was in the room with Billy. Another man.

  Cold slid up her back, tensing her muscles in the beginning of fight, flight, freeze. She couldn’t hear the voices clearly enough to distinguish anything other than they were murmuring calmly. Billy wasn’t ordering this guy to leave or panicking about a gun or anything. They were calm, so it must be a friend or relative—somebody he’d let in. He wasn’t supposed to have anybody at her house, but it was human nature to break rules, and she made it easy to do by locking herself up in her shop for hours on end. She should go to the room and confront him about the breach of contract.

  Except every instinct inside her said to escape.

  Adam. She needed Adam. It wasn’t rational and it wasn’t fair, but it didn’t matter. He kept her safe. Feeling like a total wuss, she texted him. She wanted to be a brave woman and check it out for herself, but she paid Adam to assess threats so she didn’t have to. He took his job seriously, and he’d want her to contact him, even on his night off. No sense being that girl who went toward the noise when she should be heading out the door. She set her water bottle down as quietly as she could and ducked out the sliding glass door to the side yard.

  Oshun shot out after her, fur bristling as she clambered up a tree. Normally Oshun spied on strangers from the highest perch she could find, staring down at them with wide and watchful kitty eyes until she decided they were safe. Not this time. If Oshun thought they should run from the man, Elle should heed the warning. She checked her phone. No response from Adam.

  Okay. Get away on her own. She looked up into the tree where Oshun had scampered. Stupid cat. Elle couldn’t leave her for werewolf meat.

  Shit. She went to the opposite side of the tree where she wasn’t visible from the house.

  “Oshun! Come down here!” she whispered, motioning for the animal to come to her.

  After a brief glance her way, Oshun continued to watch the house, claws latched into the bark of the tree.

  Of course calling didn’t work. Oshun was a cat. Ignoring the dictates of human guardians was the cat way. Elle swung up onto the lowest branch of the tree. “I am seriously replacing you with a dog.”

  Oshun turned a longer glance back, eyes dilated, her over-sized ears swiveling independently like mini-radar, before she resumed
watch on the house.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Elle admitted. “I love your stubborn, fuzzy ass too much.”

  She reached the crook in the tree where Oshun had set up sentry. Maybe she should stay up here, too. Most people didn’t look up, right?

  Shoulders tense, breath shaky, she talked herself out of the creeping panic. She was making a big deal out of nothing. Billy had a brother who’d stopped by to borrow money or a boyfriend who’d come over for a quick snog or something totally normal, and Adam would come home to find her hiding in a tree with a cat. They would spend the next year and a half laughing about this.

  She stroked Oshun’s tan fur, taking comfort in its softness. The cat didn’t acknowledge her existence. “We should get out of the tree and go…somewhere.” She checked her phone. Still no word from Adam. Where was he?

  Hadn’t she told him to go get laid? Dammit. He was fucking some other woman, and she was stuck in a tree with her cat. Anger replaced some of her fear, but she wasn’t sure whom to direct it at—him for having normal human needs or herself for wanting to deny him those needs so she could keep him at her beck and call. Who cared if it made her a selfish bitch? Next time he said he didn’t need a day off, she’d hold him to it. Her skin tingled as she thought about his hand smacking her ass and the strength of his chest as she’d leaned against him. If he had needs, she could fulfill them. It would be weird and possibly wonderful, and they’d find a way to stay friends afterward, right?

  The fantasy of finally seeing Adam in all his naked glory, of touching him and not worrying about the consequences, heated and loosened her tense muscles and replaced her apprehension with a desire she couldn’t slake. Grumbling, she pried Oshun off her perch. The cat fought her, clinging to the branch. “We’re leaving, idiot cat.” They would find Adam, return home so he could kick out Billy’s friend, and then she’d fire Billy. Afterwards, she’d spend an itchy night imagining what it’d be like to drag Adam into her room to relieve this aching tension.