Downpour (Alpha Love - A Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance Book 1)

by Olivia Stephens

  She rushes through the rain, managing to get soaked to the skin in the process. She yanks open the door and stands at the entrance, wishing that she’d chosen a t-shirt that didn’t leave so little to the imagination, especially when completely plastered against her slick, wet body. She looks up to see that there are only two other people in the shop, Ashton and another man, and they’re both staring at her like she’d just landed in a space ship.

  “I come in peace,” she jokes weakly and then wonders when exactly it was that she became such a dork in social situations.

  The way that the broad, dark-haired guy with Ashton looks at her makes her glad that looks can’t kill. There’s a sense of violence about him, as if he might spring into action at any moment. He and Ashton exchange a look that seems to be an entire conversation, and Ashton nods as if in agreement. His friend stalks towards the door that Sofie is still hovering around. As he stares at her pointedly, she steps to one side to allow him to pass.

  Although he moves with the same easy grace as Ashton, there’s a ferocity about him that makes her take a step away from him as he passes her. She tries to avoid eye contact, not wanting to make this guy any angrier than he already seems to be, but she sees a flash, and she has to blink to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. It looked there was a shine in his eyes, like they turned gold, but when she’d blinked they were back to dark brown.

  As the door closes behind the angry-looking man, the silence between Ashton and Sofie stretches out. She scrambles around for something to say.

  “Your friend seems...interesting,” she notes cautiously, running her fingers through her wet hair in a vain effort to dry it.

  But, instead of replying, Ashton turns around and walks towards the back of the shop, disappearing through a door.

  “Guess that means you’re not in the mood for small talk,” she says under her breath, as she prepares to go out into the unforgiving weather again.

  “You’re dripping on the floor.” Ashton’s deep voice comes from behind her, and she spins around, wondering how he’d managed to move without her hearing him. He hands her a small hand towel. “It’s all I have,” he says simply, shrugging and looking mildly apologetic.

  “Thanks.” Sofie takes the towel and starts patting her face and drying out her hair.

  Ashton watches her with a hungry look that immediately makes her fumble and blush to the roots of her hair. “Don’t worry about Gus. He’s not so good around new people.” He nods in the direction that his friend left in.

  “I’m getting the sense that might be a recurring theme round here.” Sofie hands the damp towel back to Ashton, collecting herself together and giving him a questioning glance.

  His face immediately hardens. “We don’t like being played.”

  His words hit their mark, and Sofie winces despite herself. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to play you. But there are rules that we have to follow. It’s just business.” The explanation sounds lame, even to her own ears.

  “So, your company makes you lie for them. Doesn’t sound like a great way to do business.” Ashton folds his arms over his broad chest and looks down at Sofie, assessing her reaction.

  “It’s just the way it is.” Sofie shrugs, not wanting to betray her employer; but likewise, not wanting to let them off the hook completely either.

  Ashton looks at her, like he’s waiting for her to say something else—perhaps something a little more satisfying. She can’t help it; but, whenever he looks at her, she feels like he’s seeing right into the depths of her soul. There’s something about his blue eyes, an intensity that she has never experienced before. It touches her in ways she couldn’t have expected.

  Sofie squirms under his gaze, wondering what he’s seeing as he looks at her and hoping that it’s something more than just a girl who appears to have enrolled in a wet t-shirt competition. She says the first thing that comes to mind, “So you seem to have a habit of showing up wherever I am. If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were following me.” She crosses her arms over her chest, mimicking Ashton’s body language, and she’s glad to see that there’s a shadow of mild embarrassment that passes over his face, but it disappears almost instantly and is replaced with the sexiest smile she’s ever seen.

  “Well, running girl, this is my town, that’s my canyon, and this is my store. So technically it’s you that seems to be following me.” There’s a challenge in his look, but also amusement. He clearly enjoys having her off-balance.

  “Well, birdwatcher, as far as I can tell there’s no one’s name on that canyon, and this town isn’t yours, not unless you have a different interpretation of ownership to me.” Sofie looks directly up at him, not shying away from his gaze. She’s had enough of being his punching bag, and she’s never been one to let someone walk all over her. She’s been looking after herself for a while now, and she’s experienced at standing up for herself, especially now that there’s no one else to do it for her.

  “Trust me. That canyon is ours, and there is no way that is going to change anytime soon. My name might not be on it, but it’s not on this store either.” Ashton nods, as a customer suddenly walks through the door, breaking the tension between them.

  The middle-aged woman looks between Ashton and Sofie, clearly curious as to what has them in such heated conversation but too polite to ask. “Hi Ash, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You didn’t, Edie,” Ash turns his megawatt smile on to the woman. “What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to tell you how much Arthur loved the chair. He’s been talking about it non-stop for the past week.” She laughs, but there are tears in her eyes.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that, Edie.” Ashton lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Sofie is touched at how sensitive he is with this woman who is obviously in pain.

  “And I wanted to ask if you’d take this.” Edie hands over an envelope, her hands shaking a little from emotion as she does.

  “Edie, we’ve talked about this already.” Ashton gently takes the envelope and tucks it back into her bag. “There’s no need.”

  Edie nods like this is a conversation that they’ve had before. “You’re a good man, Ashton.” She squeezes his hand and seems to pull herself together. “And who is this beautiful girl? You don’t have the look of someone from around here.” Edie winks at Sofie knowingly and the warmth in the older woman’s face makes Sofie smile instantly.

  “I don’t know about the ‘beautiful’ but guilty as charged on the second count. I’m just visiting in Beaumont. I’m Sofie.” She sticks her hand out to shake, and Edie takes it in her bird-like grip, shaking it slowly and looking into her eyes. Sofie wonders what it is about people around here and the way they look at her like they can see right through her.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Edith or Edie as everyone calls me.” Abruptly she turns around, throwing a smile at Ashton. “I better get going. I’ll leave you kids to it.” She doesn’t say what she thinks she’s leaving them ‘to’ exactly, but the obvious wink that she gives Sofie as she walks out gives her a good idea of what’s on the older woman’s mind.

  Ashton looks after the woman, shaking his head a little.

  “That was a nice thing you did for her.” Sofie tries to keep the admiration out of her voice and fails. “Who’s Arthur?”

  “Her husband. Early onset Alzheimer’s. He was my second grade teacher, known him for a long time. He helped me a lot, taught me a lot about myself.” Ashton suddenly clams up, like he’s not used to letting anyone in to his world.

  Sofie swallows the lump in her throat that’s formed at his words and turns away so that he doesn’t see how his simple act of kindness has affected her. “So this really is your place, then.” She looks around at the beautiful wooden furniture. The craftsmanship is easy to see.

  “Like I said, just because it doesn’t have my name on it, doesn’t mean that it’s not mine.” Ashton looks at her pointedly and smiles victoriously.

 
; “You have some beautiful pieces here,” she says, knowing that she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t impressed by everything she saw in the store.

  “Thanks, but I think that’s more about the wood than me,” he says humbly, looking around the floor of the store.

  “You made all of this?” Sofie can’t keep the shock out of her voice, and she’s sure that her dark eyes are wide with surprise. “You made the chair for Arthur?”

  “Do you see anyone else here?” Ashton looks around him, as if there might be someone hiding in the store.

  “No, I’m just, you don’t look like...I didn’t expect that.” Sofie takes a deep breath, trying to figure out when it had become so difficult for her to talk to men. It had always been something that she’d been good at; she was good at lines, bad at relationships.

  “Well, I’m nothing if not unexpected.” Ashton smiles, his blue eyes sparkling with merriment, and Sofie gets the distinct impression that he’s not just talking about his talent as a furniture maker. “You should take that off,” he says so matter-of-factly that it takes Sofie a few moments to realize that he’s talking about her soaking shirt.

  “Well, as much as I would love nothing better than to walk down the street in nothing but my underwear, I don’t think that would go down too well with the good people of Beaumont.” Sofie feels her sass coming back, and she’s relieved that finally she’s not so tongue-tied around this gorgeous man.

  “You’d be surprised. I think it would go down very well with at least half the good people of Beaumont.” He smiles and although he’s looking at her face, Sofie can’t help but feel that he’s undressing her with those amazing eyes of his. “But that wasn’t what I had in mind. I’ve probably got something in the back you can wear.” He gestures for her to follow him, as he heads to the far side of the store.

  While his back is turned, Sofie uses the time to inspect him. The man really is delicious, she thinks. His jeans hug him in all the right places, and his t shirt highlights the strong muscles in his back. He walks with a loping gait, hinting at his athletic body. He has a habit of pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes that makes Sofie want to reach out and do it for him. He was completely the opposite of the kind of guy she would normally be attracted to. She had always been more into the preppy-type, lawyers, accountants, doctors, men that her parents would have approved of. But after everything that had happened and the financial mess that they’d left behind them, perhaps it was time to stop worrying about what they would want from her.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” Ashton doesn’t even turn around, and she wonders if this guy has some kind of sixth sense.

  “I don’t think they’re worth that much.” Sofie laughs lightly, shaking off the thought of her parents, which inevitably brings her down every time.

  They’ve walked through the shop to a workshop at the back of the store and Ashton retrieves a shirt from the workbench. As he passes it to her, their hands touch. The contact sends a jolt through Sofie, as if electricity hit her. From the look on Ashton’s face, he felt something too, and for a few moments, they both just stare at each other, breathing heavily, heat passing between them.

  “Go ahead and put it on.” He turns his back but doesn’t leave the room.

  Sofie is shivering from the cold, and she wonders if—between getting drenched yesterday and soaked again today—she was getting sick. She turns around but is still acutely aware of Ashton behind her. She pulls off the t-shirt that’s stuck to her body like glue and puts on the denim shirt he’s given her. It’s about ten sizes too big for her and clearly one of his. She inhales the scent of him that clings to the shirt and feels her stomach do that somersault thing that only seems to happen when he’s near.

  “You can turn around now,” she tells him, as she pulls her wet hair up into a high bun on her head.

  “It looks good on you.” Ashton looks her over appreciatively, making Sofie feel like she’s wearing something far more revealing than an oversized denim shirt.

  “I doubt that, but it’s dry. Thanks.” Sofie locks eyes with Ashton, and she gets the same feeling that she did when she first saw him. It’s like the rest of the world stops, disappears, falls away, and all she can see is him. That lazy smile of his is back, and Sofie finds herself wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips, to have those lips on her, on her neck, on her breasts, on her pussy. She blinks a couple of times to bring herself back to the present moment, spinning around so she’s no longer facing him and trying to hide how red she must be turning. “What are those?” she asks, trying to deflect the attention from her own embarrassment. However, as she looks at the pieces, she feels herself drawn towards them.

  “Totem poles,” he says in a hoarse voice, as if he too is being pulled back from distracting thoughts of his own.

  There are three wooden poles—all over 8 feet tall. One, in particular, captures Sofie’s attention. She walks towards it, tracing her fingers over the intricate carving of a tree that winds its way up the pole. At the top is an image of the head of a wolf, and there’s something magical about it; yet, it looks so real. Not only that, but there’s a dignity about it that makes Sofie feel like she shouldn’t be touching it, as if she weren’t being respectful. She draws her hand back, and Ashton seems to take the movement as dismissive.

  “They’re not done yet,” Ashton says, sounding almost embarrassed, like an artist that doesn’t like to show his work to anyone before it’s finished. But there’s something else in his voice, something that sounds a little like hurt at her reaction.

  Sofie whirls around, taking a few steps towards him, closing the distance between them. “They’re beautiful.” She looks up at him and feels the magnetic pull that draws her towards him. “The wolf…it’s so life-like. It’s amazing,” she says, breathing the words. Her heart is beating faster, and she feels like the temperature of the room is rising.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he says, gently. Sofie can’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have that gentle voice talking to her in the dark. “I don’t let people come in here usually.”

  His words touch her, and she knows she would be lying if she tried to deny that she got a little zing of pleasure knowing that she’s seen a side of him that few have been permitted to. “Well, I’m glad you let me,” Sofie says, softly. There’s hardly any distance between them. She feels like she could reach up and touch his face, trace his hard jawline, and plant a kiss on those full lips. She leans in towards him, almost instinctively, and she’s pretty sure she doesn’t imagine that Ashton moves closer to her. But before they get any further, the insistent sound of the store phone ringing interrupts them. Ashton looks conflicted, but the noise has woken Sofie from her daydream and made her realize just how pathetic she probably looks flinging herself at this guy who probably has no trouble getting girls. “You should get that.”

  Ashton frowns and looks like he’s going to say something; but, he follows her suggestion instead and disappears back into the store. Sofie is left in the workshop, trying to pull herself together. She reminds herself that she’s not a high school student, but a 27-year-old woman who knows better than to get involved. Her time with Tyler had taught her that much. Besides, Ashton probably had beautiful women following him around like lost puppy dogs and that wasn’t really her scene.

  She steals a look at herself in an ornate mirror that hangs in the room. A slim, tall woman stares back at her, her dark eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. She tries to convince herself that it’s from the heat in the room, but she’s fairly certain it’s from something or, more accurately, someone else.

  When she drifts back into the store, Ashton is hanging up the phone with a serious look on his face. However, they’re not alone anymore. A few customers have drifted in, including a hot petite woman, wearing shorts that would be classed as illegal in some states. It doesn’t take Sofie long to recognize her as the woman that she’d seen Ashton talking to the other day on the street. Miss
Hot Pants gives Sofie an appraising look and takes in Ashton’s shirt, which she’s wearing. She finds herself about to give the woman an explanation and tell her that it isn’t what she thinks. Then, she reminds herself that it’s none of Miss Hot Pants’ damn business.

  But perhaps it is her business, Sofie wonders. The woman is one of the—probably many— female hangers-on that Ashton has. Looking like he does, it’s not likely that the guy has lived a life of celibacy and restraint. The thought lights a spark of jealousy and, before she’s fully conscious of what it is that she’s doing, she walks over to Ashton with a little more sway in her hips. The wolf totem pole has flagged a question that she’s been meaning to ask him, as he seems to know so much about this town.