Into the Paranormal World: Sometimes running from something will lead you right to it.
Logan McByrne enjoys working at his construction company, drinking beer with his buddies, and sex with no strings attached…usually in that order. When his occasional hook-up, the gargoyle Geoffrey, gets too serious, Logan heads to Oregon for a working vacation at his friend, Zander’s ranch. On a hunting expedition to thin a large pack of coyotes that have been terrorizing his buddy’s goat herds, he runs into the last thing he expects, a group of wolf shifters. Zander panics, there are shots fired, and Logan is blamed for a stray bullet that hits one of the wolves.
James Jimmy Noleander is the beta of the Tamang wolf pack. While he never expected meeting his mate would grant him an immediate happily ever after, he never in his wildest dreams thought his mate would shoot him. Jimmy wants to forgive his mate, but there are laws in place and restitution must be made. On top of that, Jimmy discovers that a jealous gargoyle is on Logan’s tail and Logan has commitment issues. Can Jimmy keep Logan safe, figure out a way to convince Logan of the benefits of mating, while finding suitable reparation that won’t drive his mate away?
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Restitution From His Mate
Copyright © 2014 Charlie Richards
ISBN: 978-1-77111-953-5
Cover art by Scott Carpenter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Restitution From His Mate
A Paranormal’s Love: Book Eight
By
Charlie Richards
Dedication
To whoever created the commercials about greatness. Thanks for the inspiration to push through the pain.
Chapter One
“We’re gonna miss you, man,” Marty told Logan, slapping him on the shoulder.
Logan McByrne grinned before taking a swig of his beer. Once he’d swallowed, he stated, “I won’t be gone that long.” Just long enough for Geoffrey to find someone else to get attached to. Well, that’s what he hoped anyway.
“Where you headed up there?” Matt, Marty’s younger brother asked.
Staring off into the gloom descending on the forest surrounding his home, Logan realized he was really gonna miss these quiet nights with his friends. Damn, clingy gargoyle. “You remember Zander Wheeler?”
Marty nodded. “Yeah, he went to high school with us. He married someone who was here on vacation and moved away, right?”
“That’s the one,” Logan confirmed. “We kept in touch. He moved to this small town, Chiloquin. It’s near Crater Lake, lots of forest, rolling hills, mountains…and coyotes and big cats,” he added. Grimacing, Logan continued, “His wife passed last year and her parents died a couple of years before that, so he’s alone up there.”
“Damn,” Matt muttered. “Tough break.”
Logan nodded, thinking the same thing. That was one of the reasons he didn’t feel the urge to get too attached. He had his mom, his friends, his work, and his hook-ups. He didn’t need lasting entanglements. Which is why he was taking this trip…he’d fucked with Geoffrey a few times…giving and receiving. That had probably been his mistake, giving Geoffrey his ass. That’s when the gargoyle had started asking about his schedule, what he did on days he didn’t come to the gargoyle’s manor. When he’d felt Geoffrey’s teeth at his neck, Logan knew the time had come to stop seeing the gargoyle.
“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “There’s been a coyote pack roaming his area. He’s lost almost half a dozen goats to them over the last couple of weeks.”
Marty smirked. “You going hunting, then?”
Logan dipped his head in a nod.
After a few moments of silence, Matthew asked, “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with Geoffrey?”
Rolling his mouthful of beer on his tongue for a couple of seconds, Logan enjoyed the taste of the dark beer. He didn’t treat himself to it often, but since he was heading out in the morning, he’d decided to splurge on a few. It also gave him time to think up a response.
Awe, hell, if I can’t be honest with my friends…
After swallowing, Logan sighed and met Matt’s gaze. “How’d you know?”
Matt shrugged. “Last Tuesday when he came out of roost, he sat next to me and Vane in the dining hall. He kept looking around the room, then finally asked where you were.” Grimacing, he admitted, “He didn’t look too happy when I told him you were a substitute bowler on Pedro’s team when they needed a guy to fill in.”
Logan grunted. He remembered the not-so-subtle comments Geoffrey had made when Logan had stopped by the manor a few nights after that. In Logan’s opinion, Zander’s request for help couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Yeah, he’s getting a bit possessive. Figured it’d be a good time to get away.”
“You gonna tell him?” Marty asked.
Snorting, Logan shook his head. “Of course not. You and Matt know, people at work know, and my momma knows. They’re the only ones I need to tell,” he grumbled.
Marty held up a hand. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Logan leaned forward and grabbed a pretzel from the bowl sitting on the table. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed slowly.
“We will miss you,” Matt reiterated. “But I can certainly understand why you’d need to get away,” he said. “You don’t want a gargoyle to get unduly attached. That wouldn’t end well for either one of you.”
“Exactly,” Logan agreed.
Although, some sixth sense told him that Geoffrey wasn’t going to be that easy to shake.
Stepping out of his truck, Logan stretched his arms over his head. He turned this way and that, grunting with each pop of his back.
That was a long ass drive.
Logan twisted his torso one more time, hummed at the satisfying crack, then headed across the driveway toward the gravel path that led to the front porch. He hadn’t even reached it when the door opened. A tall, slender man with short dark hair and…a limp…stopped at the railing, a grin on his face.
“Hey, Logan McByrne!” Zander greeted. “You made it.”
Grinning back, Logan took the steps two at a time and stopped beside his friend. “I sure did. Thank god for GPS or I wouldn’t have. You’re out there, buddy,” he teased. He held out his hand.
“Yeah, yeah,” Zander responded, mirth in his voice. He grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into a one-armed, back-pounding hug. “Thanks for coming.”
“Always happy to help out a friend,” Logan replied. He glanced toward his friend’s left leg and jerked his chin. “What happened to your knee?” He’d seen the slow stiff movements.
Zander rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve been staying up t
rying to keep watch, you know? I was tired yesterday and wasn’t paying enough attention while out feeding.” He turned and started leading the way into the house.
Logan followed.
“One of my billies is pretty aggressive,” he explained. “I’m normally more careful around him, but this time, I missed the signs and didn’t move fast enough. He popped me in the knee.”
Nodding, Logan glanced around at the place, noting the feminine touches that said his friend hadn’t yet moved on from his wife. The only overtly masculine room was the den on the right, with its massive big screen TV and the large leather sofas and chairs. Even the kitchen still had knickknacks that spoke of a woman in the house.
Pulling his focus back to his friend, Logan grinned and stated, “Well, you’ll have to point the little shit out to me so I can be on guard.”
“You got it,” Zander agreed. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“Yeah, that sounds great. Black is fine,” Logan replied. “Where do you want me to toss my shit?”
Zander pointed toward the hall that seemed to run along the den’s back wall. “Third door on the left. The first door goes down to the basement, and the second is a bathroom. I’m upstairs.”
“Really?”
Now that surprised Logan. He knew when his buddy and his wife had purchased the home, the upstairs had contained two bedrooms and one bath. In fact, the master bedroom had been on the main floor.
Grabbing a pair of mugs and placing them on the counter, Zander nodded. “Yeah, I gutted the place last year. I couldn’t—” He paused and scowled at his cup for a few minutes before muttering, “I couldn’t keep sleeping in that room.”
Logan just nodded. He’d never cared about someone like Zander had evidently cared for his wife. “I’ll get my stuff,” he mumbled, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
As he turned and strode from the house, he looked into the den again and noted the walls looked freshly painted. It seems the upstairs wasn’t the only thing redone. He must have turned the master bedroom into the den…or at least part of it, judging by the size. Perhaps Zander was just remodeling one section of the house at a time and hadn’t gotten to the kitchen, dining, and living rooms.
“Huh,” Logan mumbled, jogging down the steps and striding to the car. Far be it for him to attempt to figure someone out. He barely had himself figured out most of the time.
Opening the back door of his truck’s cab, Logan pulled out a small suitcase and a large duffel bag. He knocked the door shut with his hip and strode back into the house. After finding the bedroom and placing his bags on the bed, he returned to the kitchen and grabbed the cup of coffee Zander had left there for him.
Then, Logan went in search of his friend.
Logan found him sitting on the deck, cleaning a rifle. He settled in a chair next to him and let out a long sigh. “This is nice,” he said stretching out his legs with a groan. Even though he’d been sitting for the last eight hours, it wasn’t as if he could relax.
Peering around, he took in the half dozen low-slung buildings, the dozens upon dozens of goats grazing in the massive paddocks, and the horses lolling in their own paddocks near what was obviously a horse barn. Everything appeared clean and in good repair, telling Logan that Zander certainly wasn’t wallowing in self-pity. The guy must work damn hard to keep this place up.
“You probably wonder why the living room looks like it does. As if Melissa will walk through the door at any moment,” Zander stated without looking away from what he was doing.
Logan appreciated that their conversations seemed just as easy as their texts and email communications. He liked that his friend felt comfortable enough to speak frankly. Logan shrugged. “Man, everyone deals with shit in different ways. I ain’t one to judge.” He grinned at the other man. “Hell, I don’t even know how to have a relationship, let alone how I’d react if it ended badly.”
Zander snorted.
Okay, maybe saying a marriage ending badly when the spouse died was putting it a bit mildly, but Logan never claimed to be a genius with words.
Logan reached over and smacked his upper arm. “Sorry, man.”
Lifting a brow, Zander peered at him. “The truth is, I don’t want anyone to know I’ve moved on and try to set me up,” he admitted. “There’s this guy who comes a weekend or two a month. He’s the one who helped me remodel. He’s…” Zander flushed, suddenly. “Awe, hell. You and me, we always promised never to mess around with people who are married but—”
Knowing his mouth gaped and doing something about it were two completely different things. It took Logan several seconds to snap his jaw shut and swallow. Not enough moisture. He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth and drained the half-cooled liquid.
Finally, Logan managed to make his voice work. “Oh, Zan, you didn’t,” he whispered. Taking in the crestfallen look on his friend’s face, how his cheeks pinked, and the way he scrubbed furiously with the barrel brush, Logan knew he’d done just that. “So, this guy, he’s cheating on his…partner?”
Zander’s cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. He lifted his head, revealing an expression of embarrassment. “Wife of twelve years and two kids. Hell, the guy even has a dog and his wife is expecting their third.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “She’s due in two months. I’ve met her. Nice lady.”
Logan felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh, Zan.” His words failed him.
“It’s part of why I begged you to come out here.”
Admittedly, on Logan’s part, his friend hadn’t needed to beg at all. He’d needed a change himself. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
Zander gave him a hopeful smile. “Keep me away from him. Being with him is like some unyielding compulsion. If I weren’t the one always preparing the food and drinks, I’d think he was slipping me something. When he asks to come, it’s like I’m powerless to say no!”
Logan’s brows drew together. His friend had never been a weak-willed man. That sounded suspiciously paranormal to him. Unfortunately, Logan knew he couldn’t say anything unless he had proof. When the gargoyle Raymond had mated with his buddy Marty, he’d given his word to the clutch leader, Maelgwn, that he wouldn’t tell anyone of their existence…or that of others, such as shape shifters, vampires, and everything in between.
“I’ll help in any way I can, Zander,” Logan assured. “Hell, I’ll even field your calls if you want?”
Shaking his head, Zander offered a grateful smile. “No. How about I announce my calls and if anyone named Juarez calls, you take it and hang it up,” he said ruefully.
Logan didn’t think that was too much to ask. “Done,” he instantly replied.
Zander’s brows shot up. “Huh?”
Snorting, Logan rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. I don’t mind being your secretary if it helps you cut it off with this douche bag.” He leaned over and patted Zander on the leg. “We all need help getting our heads on straight every now and again.”
After several long seconds of staring, where Logan made sure he held his gaze steady, the corners of Zander’s lips lifted. “Thanks for believing me. I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“We’ll figure this out,” Logan assured. “No worries, buddy.” Trying to lighten the mood, he stated, “Now, I saw those steaks marinating on the counter. You got any cold beer to go with them?”
Zander cracked a true smile this time. “Hells to the yeah.”
Within thirty minutes, steaks were grilled, baked potatoes were cooked, and beers were cracked.
Back outside on the deck, Logan used his right foot to catch a chair’s leg and yank it to the table. He set his plate down, then plopped into the chair. He dragged his plate toward him, then sliced the potato in half before using the tines of his fork to pull the butter dish to him. He helped himself to a liberal amount, slathering his potato.
“Still just as cultured, I see,” Zander teased, settling into his own chair.
Logan
laughed as he sank his fork and knife into his steak and started cutting the thick slab of meat. Hot damn, I love meat! Looking up at his friend, he grinned. “Not like I’m tryin’ to impress anyone here.”
Zander snorted and gave him the finger. “You know, you’re the only fucker who knows I swing both ways.”
Lifting a shoulder, Logan replied, “Not surprising really. It’s not always looked upon in a good light.”
“How many people know about you?”
Logan’s brows shot up. “Honestly? No clue,” he admitted. At one time, that answer had been two, Zander and Marty. However, that was before…before Marty fell in love with a guy, before Logan learned that gargoyles existed, and long before Logan realized that it didn’t matter what others thought of him.
“Damn, really?”
Grinning at his friend’s shock, Logan nodded “Yep. For a while, only Marty knew, then I told you.” He rolled his eyes, then smirked. “You remember Marty Beakman?” After he got a nod of confirmation, he told him, “Well, he ended up liking the occasional guy, too, and we trolled a few gay bars together. Turns out, all he had to do was go to a coffee shop to find his mate.”
He internally cringed at his mental slip, especially when Zander caught it. “Mate?”
Logan nodded. “Yep,” he said, rolling with it. “Mate, husband, partner…whatever.” He winked. “We met for business in this coffee shop one night. Damn, the guy couldn’t keep his focus on me. Eventually, he and Raymond officially met and fell in love.” He shrugged. “Anyway, not a week later, his baby brother, who I gotta admit is a sexy fucker, found his partner amongst Raymond’s friends.”
Grinning, Logan shrugged. “The feeling of freedom, of knowing that if I decide to make out with a guy in front of them, that they won’t judge me…it’s pretty sweet.”
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