What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

by Kristin Miller

  “Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” His movements were jerky, his head taking longer to swing from person to person. If he made it out without hurling, it’d be a miracle. “You think I’m going to let something small like my hairy other half come between us?”

  Ryder shushed him as the bartender slid their drinks over. Although he knew what they were—could sense it from the second they walked in—the non-shifters passing by didn’t know a thing. And the San Francisco Wolf Pack wanted to keep it that way.

  “Who knows? She might like me as a wolf.” Mitch snorted into his drink. “We’ll be able to shift for another two days, you know. Maybe I’ll show her my wolf form on our wedding night.”

  Oh yeah, that’d go over well.

  I vow to love and cherish you, and keep my howling to a minimum so it doesn’t wake the neighbors.

  Not happening.

  Tossing back his rum, Ryder checked the door. Carrie had called earlier asking to meet up on one of their stops. He’d given this place as a possible meeting point, but he hadn’t heard back on whether Josie—and the rest of the ladies, of course—would be coming.

  “I admire the fact that you’re willing to take such a huge leap,” Ryder said as the rum warmed his middle. “Not everyone can do it.”

  “Pssh.” As Mitch smacked his lips together to make the noise, he spit onto the bar. “It’s not leaping off a bridge, stupid. I’m leaping into Carrie’s arms. As long as she’s the one catching me, I’ll gladly fall.”

  “Wow, Mitch. Didn’t know you were so sentimental.”

  “Takes a lot of liquor.” He winked and then pointed to his nose. “You might be one of the only people who truly knows me.”

  Reason number 636 why he and Carrie shouldn’t get married.

  “Carrie should know you better than anyone,” Ryder said and then ordered another drink. “The bedrock of your marriage shouldn’t be laid with deception. Take it from someone who knows.”

  “Now who’s sentimental?” Mitch tossed back the second glass of rum when it slid over. “I’ll tell Carrie tonight. Scout’s honor.” As he saluted, he misjudged the distance to his head and poked himself in the eye. “Don’t need that eye anyway,” he said. “I’ve got another one right here.” And then he poked that one, too.

  Chuckling to himself, Ryder patted Mitch on the back. “That’s all right, buddy. I get the picture. You’re going to tell Carrie tonight.”

  “Yeah, for sure. Tonight.” Mitch raised his hand in triumph. “Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Either way, it’ll be soon, or I’m not an Eagle Scout.”

  “You’re not—you’ve never been…never mind. Doesn’t matter.” Ryder sighed. “Sooner the better, Mitch. Remember that.”

  Another few drinks, and Mitch would be swearing he was the president. Hell, another few rounds, and he wouldn’t even know what he was saying.

  Wait…if Mitch was hammered by the time Carrie showed up with Josie, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. All Ryder would have to do is mention canines, or the full moon, and Mitch would probably tell Carrie everything.

  There was still time to do what was right.

  Carrie deserved to know she was marrying a werewolf before she walked down the aisle and vowed to love him her whole life. If Sober Mitch didn’t have the balls to tell her, he’d make sure Drunk Mitch let the cat—or the dog, as it were—out of the bag.

  The hard part was keeping it private. A moment between Mitch and Carrie. The last thing he needed was Josie sticking her nose into their business and finding out about werewolves with her sister. If Carrie decided to marry Mitch, bond with him, and turn into a werewolf herself, her sister would probably find out.

  But that would come way later.

  For now, the werewolf revelations were on a need-to-know basis.

  …

  “Are you sure they’re going to be here?” Carrie dragged her feet exiting the limo. “Mitch doesn’t like pirate movies.”

  “It’s not a movie, Carrie. It’s a bar called Jolly Roger’s.”

  Taking care of drunk people was the worst.

  Especially when the inebriated one was her sister. Carrie thought everything was funny and danced whenever she heard the hint of a song. At the last bar, they’d passed a homeless man on the sidewalk who gave a catcall whistle as they walked by. Clueless, Carrie started shaking her hips and cozied up to the guy, who smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. Thanks to the arm he’d draped over her shoulder, Carrie now smelled like a gagging mixture of city grime and cat pee.

  “I know a pirate joke,” Carrie said, grinning. “Wanna hear it?”

  Josie opened the door to the bar and pushed her sister inside. “Sure.”

  Carrie blinked slowly, as if trying to remember. “Why’d the pirate’s son keep failing his match test?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “No, no, not his match test. You’re the one who matches.” Carrie hiccuped so hard it threw her backward. She stumbled, right into Josie’s arms. “I meant math test. Why’d the pirate’s son fail his— nope, not math either. Oh—his alphabet. Yup. That was it. His alphabet test. Why’d he fail?”

  “Something to do with aaars I bet.”

  “No, silly.” Carrie swayed and then fell against her. “Because he kept insisting there were seven c’s.”

  “Cute.”

  If the joke hadn’t been ruined from the get-go.

  Josie guided Carrie through the pirate-themed bar. The place was rustic, and vintage, and decorated tastefully with pirate everything. Judging from the impressive lineup of liquor behind the bar, they probably served every brand of rum on the market. From what she remembered about Mitch’s application, Captain Morgan was his drink of choice.

  As long as he hadn’t bent the truth about that, too.

  Strawberry margaritas were Carrie’s favorite, but she’d already had four of them.

  “How about we get you some water?” As Josie reached the end of the bar, she mouthed their order to the bartender who brought them right over. “Here.”

  Carrie gulped it down, dribbling water down her white halter top. “You sure passed your math test, didn’t you?”

  “Excuse me?” Emptying half the bottle on her first swig, Josie washed down the Midori sour she’d had at the last bar. “What math test?”

  “Not math.” She shook her head, irritated. As if Josie were the one who’d misspoke. “Match. You passed with flying colors when you set me and Mitch up on that first date. Thanks to you, I’m going to marry the man of my dreams.”

  Where was Liza with the camera crews now?

  That’s right—they’d taken the night off. Figured. Liza had said they’d be at the rehearsal and dinner tomorrow night. Anxiety flickered through her as images of her special with Martha Silverstone filled her head. The woman could make anything sound appealing, as if everyone needed it this very instant. If she did a special on a local art gallery, the place stocked up full, and then sold out. If she spoke kindly about an up-and-coming restaurant, reservations had to be booked a year in advance.

  If she nailed this spot, Cole Matchmaking would launch into the singles’ stratosphere. That is, if Ryder would chill out for another two days. As the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a knowing flush bloomed over her skin, Josie searched the room.

  Ryder was already here.

  He and Mitch sat at the opposite end of the bar. Mitch seemed oblivious they’d arrived, his gaze focused far off over the liquor lineup. His mouth was blabbering a mile a minute, though she couldn’t hear what he was saying over the Caribbean music blasting from the speakers. Ryder, on the other hand, stared straight at her. As if he wasn’t listening to his friend. She couldn’t read his mind, but the message in his steely blue eyes resonated through her core.

  “I think I’m going to barf.” Carrie clutched her shoulder, digging in her nails. “Right now.”

  “No, no, you can’t throw up here. Come on.” Steadying her by the arm, Josie lifted her s
ister off the stool and guided her step by step to the ladies’ room down the hallway. “Right here, sweetie. The one with the fancy mermaid on the door.”

  “Leave me.” Carrie shoved her sister into the hall and backed into the sea-colored bathroom. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  As the door locked shut, Josie spun. Right into Ryder’s chest.

  “Oh,” she said, the air ripping from her lungs. “Excuse me.”

  But he didn’t move.

  “You look mind-numbingly beautiful tonight.” As his gaze raked over her body, from the V-cut glittery tank top emphasizing her breasts, down to her black leather pants, he licked his lips. “I came over here to say something, but now that you’re standing in front of me, the words are gone.”

  Mission “Make Ryder Drool” officially accomplished.

  “I think you’ve said enough.” She tried to push past him, but he didn’t move. “Can I get by?”

  “Can you give me two seconds?”

  “I don’t see why I should. You’ve already said enough. Let me see if I can think back to the talking you’ve done the last few days.” She tapped her finger against her chin with dramatic flair. “You said there’s never going to be anything serious between us after you took me in the closet. Then you said I should bring a date to Carrie and Mitch’s wedding, and encouraged me to search through the applications to find my perfect match. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard all I want to hear from you, ever.”

  “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” He backed against the wall and kicked up his foot. “Not for one second.”

  “Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before you pushed me to date other people.” She took two steps down the hall, but he touched her arm. It was the softest brush, but desire starburst through her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “What do you want, Ryder? You’re so hot and cold, you’re making my head spin.”

  On a pained moan, he threw his head back against the wall. “What you overheard the other night—”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Her heart beat loud in her ears as she walked away. “It really doesn’t.”

  “I know what you want, but I’m not the man who can give it to you,” he blurted, his dark, raspy voice following down the hall. “We don’t want the same things. That’s why there can never be anything serious between us. That’s what I came to your office to tell you.”

  Hold up.

  She spun on her heel and turned back, standing in front of him with her hands planted on her hips. “That’s why you’ve been putting on the brakes? Because you can’t give me what you think I want? I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”

  “God, Josie, how could I not want you?” He reached out for her, but when she didn’t move, he dropped his hands. “From the start, you’ve been transparent with what you want and need, and it’s the opposite of what I can give you. Every minute I’m with you makes it harder to pull away, although it’s the right thing to do.”

  Was there anything in the world more right than this feeling fluttering inside her?

  “There are parts of me you don’t know, and I don’t think you ever should,” he whispered. “You’d live a happier life not knowing about my world.”

  What was he talking about? Didn’t they live in the same world—the one where it felt so damn good when they were together?

  “Ryder, if you’re hesitating because you’re worried about me, you should stop.” The nervous energy swirling through her stomach gathered into a hard knot. “Am I looking for a relationship that ends in a marriage with a family? Yes. Absolutely. I won’t lie and say I’m not. But I’m not looking for those things to happen tomorrow.”

  Tension-filled silence stretched between them, and when she thought maybe he wasn’t going to answer at all, he said, “Come here.”

  This time, when he reached out for her, she shuffled toward him. A low hum—almost like a satisfied growl—came from his chest as his hands found the curve of her waist. As he gazed into her eyes, she could’ve sworn he peered into her soul.

  “If we start something, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop, and I don’t know how it’ll turn out in the end,” he said as his hands ghosted up her sides. “I can’t bear the thought of hurting you. And the way you look at me—damn, Josie, I never want anything to change that.”

  “Is that really what you’re torn up about?”

  He nodded, his greedy hands gripping her hips. “I want you so much it hurts, but I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try.”

  “Ryder?” She cupped his face in her hands as her stomach tumbled. “Stop trying.”

  He crushed his mouth to hers in answer, slipping his tongue past her lips. She was helpless to stop the heat as it rippled through her. Between the spicy taste of the rum on his tongue, the warm, wet feel of his mouth, and the hungry slide of his hands as they gripped her waist and held her in place, she went dizzy. Desperate to steady herself, she flattened against the wall and grasped at his shoulders for purchase.

  “You can take me right here or take me home to bed,” she mouthed against his lips as they slid against hers. “Either way, we’re taking this one day at a time. And tonight, I’m all yours.”

  At the final word, he groaned and lifted her off the ground. Roping her legs around his waist, he gripped her backside and held her in place. A surge of something primal passed between them—a spark of want that superseded anything she’d ever felt before.

  She was his.

  And she’d never feel this way about another. There was no way to know it, but she did. Truly. With every hard drum of her heart.

  He claimed her. Plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. Grasped her rear. Pressed her against his rock-hard shaft. Stole her breath and made her crazed with want. Over the sound of her thumping heartbeat came the sound of someone crying hysterically.

  “Carrie?”

  Slowly, Ryder set her back on the ground. Only then could she hear the breath punching out of him. He was hot, his forehead slick with sweat. The temptress in her relished the thought that she had the same effect on him…

  Sliding from beneath his hold, Josie put her ear to the door. On the other side, Carrie gasped and then started uncontrollably sobbing again.

  “What’s wrong?” Josie panicked. “Are you okay in there?”

  “No, I’m not okay.” More pained cries that tugged at Josie’s heartstrings. “Did you know all along, Josie? You had to know. How could you not tell me?”

  Josie frowned in Ryder’s general direction, though she didn’t focus on him in particular. “What the hell is she talking about?”

  “Carrie hasn’t talked to Mitch tonight, has she?” Ryder’s attention shifted to the bar and then back to her. “I thought you guys just got here.”

  “We did.” Josie pounded on the door, the piercing sting of fear rising in her stomach. “She hasn’t had time to see anyone. Maybe she talked to someone on the phone while she was in there, while we were—Carrie, let me in.”

  Ryder went pale. “Mitch is gone.”

  As he strode around a barrel and out of sight, Josie knocked incessantly.

  “Carrie, if you let me in, we can figure this out.”

  The door clicked and then was yanked open. Carrie’s face filled the gap. Rings darkened the skin beneath her eyes. Her lips were dry, cracked. “There’s nothing to work out. There’s nothing you can do now.”

  Sliding through the slight opening and into the bathroom, Josie gripped her sister around the shoulders and checked her eyes. Dilated. Red. Tearstained.

  “What happened?”

  “I got a text from one of the vendors I’m supposed to meet with tomorrow before the rehearsal.” She hiccuped, choking on her tears. “She congratulated me.”

  Josie waited for the story to continue and lightning to strike down.

  It didn’t happen. Carrie dropped her head in her hands and shook.

  “Sweetie,” J
osie said, half laughing. “Whoever this vendor is, I’m sure it’s her job to congratulate you. And that’s a good thing.”

  “Nooo, you don’t”—hiccup—“get it. You’re going to have to cancel your—your thing. Your show on my wedding. I’m sorry, I can’t marry Mitch.”

  And just like that, the world came crumbling down.

  Chapter Eleven

  This wasn’t happening. Not now. Not when they were both about to have everything they’d ever wanted. Carrie wanted Mitch. Josie wanted her business to succeed. And she wanted Ryder. More than anything else.

  So far everything had been smooth sailing. Well, not with Ryder, but the wedding was two days away, and the television crews were prepped and ready to roll on her special.

  What the hell had happened to change that?

  “Calm down,” Josie soothed, brushing her hand down Carrie’s back. “You need to get up off the floor and tell me what’s going on.”

  Knees drawn to her chest, Carrie hugged them tight and rocked back and forth. “You knew—you knew all along, and you didn’t say anything.”

  Josie knelt in front of her and lifted her chin with two fingers. “What did I know?”

  “My name,” Carrie screeched. “You knew what was going to happen when we got married.”

  “When you marry someone, you take their last name.” Confusion pricked her hard. Carrie was either drunker than she thought, or having a major meltdown. It was a good thing the cameras weren’t here right now. This was not the image either of them wanted Martha Silverstone to amplify. “Care Bear, I have no idea what the hell you’re—”

  “I’m marrying Mitch Oakey.” Carrie looked right through her. “My name’s going to be Carrie…Oakey.”

  What was she missing? What was the big deal with taking Mitch’s last name? “I’m sorry, but I don’t—”

  “Say my name fast,” Carrie blurted, throwing up her hands. “Carrie Oakey…Carrie OakeyCarrie OakeyCarrieOakey.” Her future name morphed from words to syllables and sounds. “Karaoke. My name is going to be freaking karaoke!”

  A laugh erupted out of Josie’s belly. As Carrie glared, nostrils flaring, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”