by Jane Jamison
“Shit.” Scott held up his hands and tried to backpedal. “Baby, don’t go getting all riled up. We didn’t mean anything.”
She bit back a retort. Instead, she plastered on a shit-eating grin and edged closer to Scott. He took a step back. “Of course not. I understand perfectly. You’re traditional kind of guys. The kind of men who like women to know their places and stay in them. The kind of men who want their woman barefoot and in the kitchen, at home when they get back from working their asses off all day. The kind of men who tell a woman what to think, if she can talk, and when she can leave the house other than to buy baby formula and groceries to make his dinner. Have I got it straight?”
“Boys, I think you fucked up.” Foster crossed his arms and shot her a soft smile. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m more liberal in my way of thinking.”
“Good for you.” If they didn’t have such a backward way of thinking about women, she would’ve loved them calling her baby and darlin’. But she’d been down the road where a man told her what to do, and she wasn’t going back. “Guys, I really appreciate all the help you’ve given me, but I’m going to ask you to leave now.”
“Aw, come on, baby.” Scott grew closer and attempted to pull her into his arms.
The urge to give in was so strong she almost did. But her pride wouldn’t let her. She’d come too far to turn back into the weak woman she’d been. She pointed toward the front door. “Please leave.”
“This is crazy, honey. Let’s talk about this.”
The more they stayed, the harder it was to want them to leave. “I asked you to please leave.”
Billy started to argue more, but Foster cut him off. “Knock it off, man. I think you and Scott have done enough damage for one day.”
Scott grumbled and set down the last light fixture. He stalked past her then paused as he came shoulder to shoulder with her. The three of them were so close she could draw in a long, slow breath and get a good whiff of their musky masculine scents. It took everything in her not to close her eyes and whimper with need.
“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get past this.”
She startled as he skimmed the backs of two fingers along her cheek. “A little tension adds to the sex.”
Before she could think of any way to respond, they strode out of the store. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. A ripple of emotion shook her body as she hurried over to the front window.
Billy kissed me.
The last thing she’d expected to happen had happened before she’d realize he was doing it.
He kissed me.
Her body still hummed from having his next to hers. She’d known he was strong, yet she hadn’t realized how terrific he’d feel holding her against him. And his lips? When had a man ever had such soft, yet firm lips? She shivered thinking about his tongue forcing its way inside her mouth. He’d been commanding, demanding, and she’d loved every second of it.
If any men were worth giving up her independence for, it was them. But she was too strong to do that now.
Yet, she had to wonder. Did it take a stronger woman to let a man take charge?
Chapter Three
If Billy heard Foster complain one more time about his so-called “macho shit,” he was going to shift and tear into his friend. “That’s the way I feel.”
“You better change your attitude. If you think you can talk to her the way you two did and win her over, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
Foster sent his lasso flying. The loop landed perfectly around the horns and head of the practice-roping cow. The contraption didn’t look much like a real cow since it consisted primarily of a metal frame for the body and a metal box that served as a head with a set of horns attached to it, but it did the trick. He strode over and jerked his rope free. As one of the best ropers around the country, Foster didn’t need the practice. Then again, practice was what had made him a great roper.
“We’re werewolves,” interjected Scott. He leaned on the railing of the corral next to Billy.
“Being a shifter doesn’t mean you have to act like a damn caveman.”
They’d talked about Betsy on the way back to their ranch, going back and forth about the conversation in her store. That and to give him hell for getting in the first kiss. Billy didn’t bother to hide a satisfied smile. They were just jealous that they hadn’t kissed her first.
“We need to claim her is all. From the way she kissed me back, she’s not going to put up a fuss.” Billy pulled his hat lower, blocking the glare of the setting sun. Summer was great in the Georgia mountains, but he always loved the fall when the leaves changed color. Would Betsy be part of their lives by then? If he had it his way, they wouldn’t wait any longer. Hell, if he had it his way, he’d have her in their bed tonight. But getting Foster to agree was harder than he would’ve thought it would be.
Foster’s lasso floated in the air again. He made it look effortless. Billy, on the other hand, had never mastered calf roping. Instead, he’d become a good shot and prided himself on being able to shoot a fly off a target several yards away.
“Maybe so, but she’s not the type of woman who’s going to enjoy cleaning house and chasing our babies.” Off went the lasso again.
Just once, I’d like to see him miss.
“What the hell are you saying, man?” Scott toed the dirt. “You don’t think she’s going to want to have our kids? I was counting on having at least four or five pups. Sooner than later.”
Foster curled up his rope as he walked toward them. “I didn’t say she wouldn’t want kids, but get it through your head. She’s one of those girls who likes being independent. Just look at her store. How many women do you know who can move to a small town and get a business up and running in such a short time?”
“She’s got spunk, I’ll give you that. Which makes it more exciting to tame her.” Billy understood where Foster was going with the conversation. He realized he was old-fashioned in his way of thinking, but could he change? It would be harder than getting a werecat to howl. Still, if it meant losing Betsy, then he’d give it his best shot.
“Betsy’s like a spirited filly. How you break her is important. We don’t want to crush her spunk, but she needs to know who’s in charge.”
“Scott’s right, Foster. Can’t you see that?”
“I think we’re saying the same thing. Tame her without taming her spirit. We have different ideas on how to do it is all.” Foster pulled the gate open, leaving them to close it and follow behind him. “We’re doing this my way.”
Billy obliged and tried not to let Foster irritate him more. His inner wolf wanted to keep the argument going, even if it came to shifting and fighting. His human side, however, was smart enough to know when to back off and let Foster take the lead. Foster was one of those men who stood back and contemplated a situation while Billy was more of the spontaneous type. Granted, he tended to get into more trouble that way, but he also tended to get into a lot more fun, too. Both trouble and fun could be entertaining, but getting Betsy as their mate was too important to risk screwing it up.
“In other words, we drag it out even longer,” complained Scott.
Billy was right there along with his friend. They’d already waited long enough. “Fine, Foster, but we better fucking make a move soon. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of her, I’m not going to be satisfied by jerking off in the shower.”
“Shut the hell up.” Foster flung the screen door open. “I don’t want that image in my head.”
“Then get me out of your head by getting her into our bed.”
“Good one, Billy.” Scott strode into the kitchen and, without asking, opened the fridge, snagged three beers, and tossed them each a can. “So how’d she taste?”
Billy knew it would come to that. He’d be asking the same question if one of them had kissed her first. “She tastes sweet. But I’ll bet good money her pussy will taste even sweeter.” He shot Foster a pointed look. “If we ever get to lick
her pussy.”
“We will. Just give it—”
“Time. Yeah, we know.” Billy popped the lid on his can and gulped down a large swig. “She felt fucking great, too. She has just the right amount of meat on her bones.”
They’d all agreed that the woman they’d share had to have some weight to her. Other men might prefer women who were all stick figures with big tits, but they wanted a woman like Betsy. Firm yet soft in all the right places. Rounded with a great ass that jiggled when she walked. Not to mention her sizeable assets. If her breasts were any bigger—which he wouldn’t mind—she’d probably fall over and land on her face. As far as he and his friends were concerned, more than a handful made for a bigger meal.
“She’s got the curves, that’s for sure.” Scott made an hourglass figure with his hands. “The girl’s as good as they come. I can’t wait until I put my face between her tits and go for a boat ride.”
“You’ve got to give it to her. She’s got a nice store and doing it all on her own.” Foster plopped down on the couch. “I admire anyone who can be their own boss.”
Billy joined him. After helping Betsy out at the store, they’d had a long day of chores on the ranch. Not that he’d ever complain. He loved ranch life and wouldn’t trade it for all the stores in the world. “I hope I’m wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t like men much.”
Scott leaned against the couch and grabbed the television remote. “Nah, it’s not that she doesn’t like men. Hell, from the way she leaned into you during that kiss, it’s obvious that she does. I think she’s been burned or something.”
Billy leaned back and rested his feet on the coffee table then took them off. Once Betsy moved in with them, would she let him keep doing it?
Let me? Damn.
As though in defiance, he landed them on top of the table again. Just to prove his point.
Their house wasn’t big by any standard, with only three bedrooms and one and a half baths, but it was comfortable and suited their needs. If Betsy wanted a better house, they’d build her one. Until then, once they finally got around to claiming her, they’d move her into Foster’s room, which was the biggest bedroom in the home.
“Why do you think she named the place Classy Cat?” asked Scott.
Billy had wondered the same thing. “Yeah. You don’t think she’s got some werecat in her?”
“Nah, we would’ve noticed,” answered Foster. Yet his expression seemed doubtful.
“Even if she does have a little werecat in her, is that a deal breaker?” Before he’d met Betsy, Billy might have thought so. But now that he knew her, he couldn’t have cared less. She was the woman for them, no matter what she was.
“She’s human,” assured Foster.
“And if she’s not? Does that mean she can’t change?”
Billy tilted his head at Scott. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say whether or not a part-werecat can be changed into a werewolf.”
“For fuck’s sake, you two are out of your minds.” Foster rose, crunching his can as he headed back into the kitchen for a second one. “She’s not a werecat. She’s all human, through and through. Have you heard that she’s been asking around about shifters? No, you haven’t. That’s because she doesn’t know they exist.”
“Foster’s right. You’ve got us worrying about nothing, Billy.”
They were most likely right. He had a tendency to jump off a cliff without looking first. “You’re right. I guess kissing her did a number on me.”
“Whether or not she wants to change is up to her. We agree on that, right?” Foster arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for an answer. “She’s our mate, but that doesn’t mean we make those big decisions for her. Understood?”
“I wouldn’t demand she change.” Although he’d be disappointed if she decided she didn’t want to become a werewolf. If she didn’t change, she’d be accepted as a member of their pack but never a full alpha female.
“So what’s our next move?”
He nodded, liking Scott’s question. “Yeah, Foster. What do we do next?”
“We don’t rush.”
Billy groaned along with Scott. “Shit, man. Come on.”
“Let me finish.” Foster opened his second beer and took a long drink. “We don’t rush, but we do speed things up. We’re sure she’s the one, right?”
“Why are you even asking?” Damn, how he hated it when Foster beat around the bush.
“We’ve asked around town and talked to people about her.”
“And we’ve hung back and watched for long enough to know she’s a good person,” added Scott. “She helped out with Miss Charlotte as well as pitching in when Gobbel’s store flooded. Yeah, she’s got a good heart.”
“Just making sure.” Foster tipped the beer back some more. “I say we show up at the store again on Friday, the night before her big opening.”
“And? Damn it. Just spit it out.” His wolf growled, warning Foster of his growing impatience.
“All three of us come on to her. All three of us get a good taste of her. And she’ll get a good taste of us, too.”
He liked the turn of the conversation. “At the same time or separately?”
Foster grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Whichever way works best.”
* * * *
“It’s Friday. One more day.” Betsy had barely slept last night. She’d tossed and turned, unable to get her mind off two things.
The grand opening of Classy Cat.
Billy, Scott, and Foster.
Once she managed to get one off her mind, the other came roaring back. Then she’d shove that thought away, only to think of the other one again. It was as though the store and the men were rolling around in her mind in a series of never-ending images and thoughts.
She groaned and forced her mind back to the store. Most of the work was already completed. A few finishing touches remained. The only things left to get ready were to put a couple more light fixtures in place.
If I hadn’t run the men off, the lights would be in.
Damn it.
She was so attracted to each of the men. Not to only one, but to all three of them. Was it normal to want three men at the same time? Did her wanting all of them make her a slut?
My father and Robert would say it does.
She closed her eyes, forcing them out of her head. They wouldn’t ruin her happiness. After years of scrimping and saving, she was finally going to make her dream come true. Tomorrow was the grand opening of Classy Cat, and nothing would take away her joy.
Opening the browser on her tablet, she searched for instructions on how to hook up the light fixture. Surely she could figure it out. She was a smart and capable woman. Besides, if she couldn’t, then she’d ask around and find someone who could.
After accessing several DIY sites and following the directions to the letter, however, she was ready to admit defeat. She’d never been very mechanically inclined, but she couldn’t believe she couldn’t get it done. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“Maybe you need a man to help you.”
She spun around so quickly that she almost dropped her tablet. And there they were. The three sexy men who could take her breath away with one look.
Nix that. They’re the three sexy men who think a woman belongs at their feet.
“What are you doing here?” She didn’t mind that her tone sounded less-than-welcoming. They hadn’t even said hello, and already Billy had made a sexist comment. She scowled and wished he was kidding.
“Ignore him.” Foster’s long legs ate up the distance between them. Taking her tablet from her and placing it on the counter behind her, he leaned closer, giving her two choices. She could either fight for personal space or put her back against the hard edge and let him get even closer. She chose the latter.
His dark eyes met hers, driving down into her as though he could travel straight into her soul. She swallowed and put her hands on the counter to help support her wob
bly legs.
“We came for you.”
“I’m sorry?” What did that mean?
“We came for you,” he repeated. “We didn’t like the way we left things the other day.” He tossed a hard glare at a grinning Billy. “Don’t let Billy and Scott get to you. Trust me. Their barks are a lot worse than their bites.”
She blinked, aware that the people of Fate tended to refer to animals when speaking. Was it a regional thing?
“Around here, a man treats his woman, well, like a woman. Like she’s the fairer sex. His better half. The person he wants to put on a pedestal because he knows, down deep, that his woman is better than he is.”
What could she say in response? His saying so washed away her irritation at Billy’s remark. Maybe that was all it was. Just talk. She’d seen and heard enough since moving to Fate to think maybe it was.
She’d watched other men around town interacting with their women and seen how macho they were. Yet, at the same time, they doted on the women, lavishing attention and love on them. They acted gruff, but she’d seen the respect they had for their girlfriends and wives written on their faces and glowing in their eyes. Their devotion and affection for their lady friends was as clear as day. How often had she wished she were the object of such loyalty and love?
The men of Fate were men who lived in rural Georgia and definitely weren’t like the metrosexuals in New York City. Maybe they tended to be more chauvinistic than she liked, but they were also sexier than any men she’d ever met. Did one go along with the other? So far, she hadn’t seen a man in Fate who didn’t exude raw power and sex appeal. Billy, Scott, and Foster, however, were the cream of the crop.
She’d give them a chance. In doing so, she might be giving herself the greatest chance at love that she’d ever know.
After tossing and turning all night, she’d come to a conclusion. Having a demanding, strong man take charge, especially sexually, didn’t sound like such a bad thing. Maybe it was even a damn good thing. As long as Scott, Billy, and Foster were the men.