BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

by Candace Ayers

Jake closed his eyes. “Looks like I’m laid off for a while.”

  “Jake,” she murmured, “I thought you were dead, you idiot. You had me worried sick. They said they almost had you. Now can I say what I want to say?”

  He shook his head. Elie smacked his shoulder lightly. “Why not?”

  “It was me,” Jake whispered. His voice sounded like he’d eaten glass dust; he looked up at her. “I’m the one that killed my Mom.”

  Elie stilled. “I… I know, Jake. I can put two and two together.”

  His jaw clenched as he watched her face. “It was an accident. It was the first time—I couldn’t control it back then—”

  Elie shushed him; the sun was finally touching the treetops overhead. It would be full daylight by the time they got back to Hemford. “Jake you can’t hold on to that. And you can’t expect me to hold on to that.”

  “I just wanted you to know,” he went on. “It was the only thing I hadn’t told you… I needed you to know.”

  “Well, I know,” she agreed. Elie leaned down and kissed him. “And I love you still. Now let’s go home—I hear there’s been an explosion at the mill.”

  Epilogue

  It was enrollment day.

  Elie looked up at her school doubtfully.

  “Might as well get this over with,” she said. She turned to Jake, who was sitting in the passenger seat. “You sure you don’t want to go back to Hemford?”

  He shrugged. “Until they rebuild that mill, I’m out of a job. I might as well live here with you. It’s only fair you should put me up, since you’re the one who made me unemployed.” He grinned at her through his beard, and Elie shoved him.

  “Fine, fine.” They got out of the car. Elie carried a bag today, full of papers—she hated paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. “It’s only two more semesters.”

  “You were thinking of quitting with only two more semesters to ‘til your BS?”

  “It took me seven years to get this far.”

  “Oh.” Jake put an arm around her waist as they walked through the entryway. “Well, hopefully this’ll only take one more. Then you can start your career as a social worker, or whatever you had in mind.”

  Elie nodded. “I was thinking down those lines. But maybe I should consider a major switch.”

  Jake scoffed. “To what?”

  “How about vet assistant?”

  They entered a crowd of students then, so Jake had to satisfy himself with the knowledge that he’d make her pay later. Once they got back to her apartment.

  He smiled and hoped her housing had thick walls.

  THE END

  MONDAY NIGHT MVP

  STORY DESCRIPTION

  Kristin Dunning and Derrick Wellborn were childhood sweethearts- first loves, until their parents had a vicious falling out over some mysterious offense. Next thing they knew, their parents separated them, moved to opposite coasts, and forbade them from having contact.

  Derrick, a cunning and focused lion shifter, is now a pro-football player with a body to kill for and eyes so blue they could make the sky jealous, and Kristin is a bold and curvy sports doctor.

  When Kristin accepts her dream job with the Washignon Redskins, she is shocked to the core to find that the sexiest, most eligible bachelor in sports, Derrick Wellborn, has just been traded by New York…. the Redskins. What’s more, he has never forgotten her either.

  When Derrick threatens to break Randy Wolfe's world record for rushing yards, he finds the woman who holds his heart seriously imperiled.

  Will Derrick risk his entire career to keep Kristin as his own?

  Can Derrick and Kristin’s parents put aside their differences to save their children?

  Chapter 1

  "Derrick! Derrick! Over here!"

  Derrick Wellborn looked up from the strings he was tying on his cleats into the flash of a camera. It stung his eyes for a second as a thousand flashes went off at once, then he smiled. His perfect white teeth glimmered for the cameras, and one lucky photographer caught the crowning cover shot, with Derrick's midnight colored hair swept back across his forehead and his tanned, toned skin looking like he'd just arrived at the stadium by tropical island ferry instead of a New York subway.

  The cameras flashed again and Derrick turned towards them so they could get a better shot. Whoever said quarterbacks got all the glory never met him. This was one of the things Derrick loved most about playing football.

  Reporters shouted all around him. "Derrick! How does it feel to be going up against Randy Wolfe today? Are you nervous?"

  Derrick shook his head, already forming the words in his mouth. "No, no, it's all just a part of the game. You know." He smiled sheepishly, trying to look humble. He knew Randy Wolfe was about to get crushed. He was getting closer to tying Randy's rushing record—the all-time best in NFL history. If it didn't happen this game, it was gonna be soon.

  "Derrick, you're only twenty yards out from joining the 2,000 Yard Club. Think you can conquer Randy's personal best after that? Set a new world record?"

  Derrick grinned and shrugged.

  A girl of twenty with bleach blonde hair and a big rack that she'd squeezed into a child's size pink halter top broke through the reporters and threw her arms around Derrick. She smacked her lips hard against his and ran her fingers through his hair. Derrick smiled wide. This was another thing he loved about being a superstar NFL player. He got all the girls he wanted, and man did he want them all.

  A picture of his childhood sweetheart flashed through his mind, almost ruining the kiss the blonde with the rack was trying to plant on him again. He pushed Kristin from his head, like he always did. Maybe later he'd let himself think about her, just a little. If they won the game tonight and he broke Wolfe's record, there would be so much celebrating Derrick doubted that he'd remember to think about anything other than the trophies he was sure to get and the multitude of women who were bound to throw themselves at him.

  "Derrick—"

  "Sorry guys, game's on. I gotta go," he waved his hand in the air.

  His legs got the twitch that they always did right before a game. The last—but not the least—thing Derrick loved about being a running back was the running. The panther in him longed to race across the field, breathe in the grass, and outrun everyone around him. He'd get to the end zone well ahead of them all and score the final touchdown. Tonight would be no different, except he'd finally have his chance to run against Randy Wolfe. He didn't bear Randy any ill will, the wolf was not the natural enemy of the panther, it was only that Derrick liked taking down the best. And the best meant Randy.

  "Just one last question Derrick!" He turned his head towards the cute brunette who was waving her hand wildly in the air, the lone woman in a sea of testosterone. He shot her a smile and pointed towards her.

  "Last one pretty lady, go ahead."

  She flashed him a smile with pink lips and bright blue eyes that made Derrick's heart race. The cute ones always did. "What about the rumors you're getting traded?"

  Derrick shook his head. "No way. New York's been my home since I was fifteen. I'm twenty-eight now. I'm not going anywhere."

  ***

  Kristen ran her hand over Burt Young's knee. He twiddled his thumbs and refused to watch while she worked. Kristen didn't need to be telepathic, like her parents claimed to be, to know what he was feeling: his body shook with nervous energy and his eyes were wet.

  "It's okay," she assured him. "Just an isolated sprain of the medial collateral ligament." Burt stared at her blankly. "That means you didn't tear it." She smiled as his shoulders relaxed.

  "Thank God." He blew a steady stream of air from his lungs and hunched over, his head in his hands. "How long? Tell it to me straight."

  "I don't think the sprain is very bad." Kristen put one hand behind his neck and gave it a little squeeze. "Stay off it for a few days and you'll be back in the next game."

  She thought he might cry for a second—sometimes football players did when they th
ought they were out for the season—but then his head whipped up with confused happiness. "The next game...? The next game...?" It took a minute for it all to sink it, and Kristin gave him that minute. She was used to this—at least this time the news was good. Not all players were so lucky. Football was the toughest of all sports on a person's body.

  "Woohoo!" Burt jumped off the exam table, balanced himself on one leg, and grabbed Kristen around the waist. He picked her up and spun her around the room before setting her back down.

  "Thanks Doc! You're the best damn doctor we ever had here."

  Kristen blushed. The red in her cheeks almost matched her hair. It was nice knowing that even though she'd never be a football player herself, at least she was still contributing to the game. Her phone buzzed in her pocket but she didn't pull it out.

  "Remember what I said," she told Burt. "Off it for at least three days. I'll get you some crutches from the back. Use them."

  "Anything you say Doc."

  His smile was so wide she thought it might spread off his face, like an overdrawn cartoon character. It made her think of Derrick... the wide smile he used to give her when he'd pick her hand off the sand before holding it to his face. They were inseparable from the time they were five and had moved in next door to each other, to the time they were fifteen and they'd been ripped apart. That was thirteen years ago now. She was twenty-eight. He was famous. And a millionaire. Any chance they'd had together ended long ago with the falling out of their parents.

  At the time, Kristin had asked her mom and dad about it till she was blue in the face. All her mom would say was, "Sometimes things just happen." As if that explained the sudden departure of Derrick's family not just from Los Angeles, but from their lives. From her life. Eventually, Kristen had given up asking.

  She was sure Derrick didn't even remember her now. She saw the tabloids in the grocery stores like everyone else. And lately it seemed like every time she turned on her computer a new photo was splashed across the screen with a picture of Derrick and his latest squeeze toy. Kristin's round curves and voluptuous body wouldn't even fit inside the cover of a magazine, but she didn't care. She'd rather have full breasts and curves than the stick figures she saw Derrick with.

  "Be right back," she told Burt when she realized she was still standing there.

  When Kristin was alone she took her phone from her pocket and unlocked her screen. A new message icon displayed across the LED.

  She scrolled through the email. It took forever for the general manager to get to his point... Think you'd fit into the team nicely. Welcome aboard!

  Kristin almost ran back to Burt without the crutches and picked him up as he'd done to her. She couldn't believe it. Finally! The Redskins! When she stepped back into the room her grin was even wider than Burt's.

  Chapter 2

  Derrick stepped into the locker room of the Redskins still livid at the trade. They'd done it behind his back. And fast too. Yesterday New York and hot dogs, today Washington and rain. It hadn't even broken in the papers yet. How the teams kept this a secret was beyond him. The Redskins got him, his old New York team—the one he'd been with since starting in pro-football—had gotten three of the Redskins' best. Three players for one Derrick. He should've felt honored, but all he felt was betrayed.

  He wondered if this was how Randy Wolfe felt when the Redskins traded him to the Broncos last year. Randy had been with this team since starting pro himself. He knew Randy still had a house around here somewhere, and wondered if it was for sale.

  The guys in the locker room introduced themselves as he came in, slapping his hand and pointing out his locker. Derrick opened it and five gallons of strawberry Jell-O fell onto his shoes and rolled over the floor. Derrick smiled. If this was how the guys were gonna treat him on the first day, they were probably alright.

  One of the guys, Tate Edwards, waved a newspaper high in the air and started reading in a high pitched sing-song voice:

  "Derrick Wellborn, arguably the best running back in NFL history, has just become the eighth member of the NFL's 2,000 Yard Club after surpassing 2,000 rushing yards this season. Randy Wolfe had this to say..." Here Tate changed his voice to a deep growl. "'He might be good, but he's not the best. He can try and beat me all he wants, but he'll always be trailing just behind.'"

  Tate looked up and shouted, "Well fellas, we've got a bona fide superstar in our midst."

  Derrick yelled back, "And I'm glad to be here. Strawberry Jell-O is my all-time favorite!"

  The crew busted up laughing and Derrick joined in. A little friendly ribbing on the new guy was pretty standard. Especially with a high profile guy like Derrick.

  The coach walked in, his bald head shining under the locker room lights and his face red with sun. He saw the Jell-O all over the floor, still creeping towards the showers, and shook his head. Then he broke into a smile and called out to the room. "All right, you had your fun, but tell me this... Who in the hell is gonna clean up this mess?"

  Tate tossed a rag at Derrick and it hit him in the face. Derrick grinned and dabbed it in some Jell-O before whipping it back to Tate. The team roared but the coach just shook his head.

  "Tell you what," Coach said, "the two of you can clean it up together. Tate, Wellborn," he pointed towards the floor. "There's a bucket a rags in the back."

  "Aw Coach," Tate whined.

  "Stuff it Tate. We got a new doctor comin' in today, and I don't want her thinkin' we're a bunch of animals."

  Several players jumped up at the mention of a new doctor.

  "Did you say her?"

  "A woman?"

  "A girl?"

  "That's right," Coach yelled. "A woman, and the best in sports medicine."

  Bolero called out, "You don't mean the one who saved Crick O'Malley's busted hamstring last season." The others looked at him. "Kept him in the game and got him picked up by Denver."

  "That's exactly who I mean," Coach said. "We're lucky to get her, so be nice."

  The others nodded. "Don't worry Coach," Tate said. He gave Derrick a wink. "We'll be on our best behavior."

  ***

  Practice went well, and Derrick was surprised to find how quickly he felt at home. Back in the locker room they were showering and getting ready to take Derrick out—a proper welcome to the team they said, which would undoubtedly include a night of drinking and girls—when Coach came in and said the doctor was here.

  "Remember," Coach yelled. Coach always seemed to yell, Derrick supposed most did. "Best behavior." He opened the door and called, "Okay Doc, we're ready for ya. Guys, meet Doctor Walker."

  Kristin stepped into the room with her head high and her face set like stone. Inside, she was bursting with excitement. Washington had been her number one pick since she'd been in med school. They'd told her she was too young for Washington then. Apparently a few years later and the new general manager thought reputation and know-how were more important than age. Besides, she was a damned good doctor. She'd always exceled at school, and when she'd gone to medical school she'd breezed through it and gotten fast tracked to her degree. Only a handful of people had their degrees before thirty. She was proud of her accomplishments, and the Redskins were lucky to have her.

  She reminded herself of this as she faced the locker room of jocks.

  She'd dealt with the opening scene of locker rooms before, and the introduction was always the hardest. The players stood before her with towels wrapped around their waists. Someone tapped three times on a locker and two dozen towels dropped to the floor. Kristin smiled. Flashing women in the locker room was a long held tradition. The guys wanted to see if you'd look.

  "Nice to meet you," Kristin said. Coach dropped his head into his hands, embarrassed. "I'd shake hands with everyone," she continued, "but my mother always taught me not to trust anything bigger than a tree branch. Oh wait," she made an obvious show of looking across the room at all the players, "I guess that's not a problem here. Sticks and twigs don't count."

 
The guys busted up like they'd done earlier with the Jell-O stunt. Kristin walked around the room and shook each player's hand with their towels still pooled at their feet. She didn't bat an eye. She was down to the last row of players when one of them frantically grabbed at their towel and pulled it up. She blinked her eyes, not believing what she saw.

  "Derrick Wellborn?" she couldn't stop the shock from registering in her voice. He didn't belong in Washington, he was a New Yorker.

  He looked even better than she remembered. Even better than in the papers. His dark hair was the color of the night sky. His eyes as blue as the sea beyond the sand. He smiled at her with moist, pink lips and the muscles in his arms twitched, emphasizing the biceps that had only been starting to develop when she'd last seen him. Her lungs began to burn before she realized she’d forgotten to breathe.

  The team was watching them.

  "Hey," Derrick snapped his fingers in the air several times like he was summoning a waiter. "Uh... Kristy... Christine... no, Theresa, right?" He pulled the towel tight around him.

  "Kristin." She bit her lip.

  "Kristin. Right. Nice to see you. It's been, like, a while."

  The initial excitement Kristin felt at seeing Derrick fell apart. It's been, like, a while? Was he serious?

  "Yeah," she said. "Thirteen years. Or so." She didn't want him to think she'd been counting.

  "You look... nice. I guess. Welcome to the team. I'm gonna finish showering if we're all through here." Then Derrick breezed out of the locker room like seeing her was no big deal.

  Derrick got around the corner and leaned his back against the wall, taking deep breaths. He knew he was acting like a jerk, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was freaking out. Kristin had never been far from his mind, but he'd never dreamt he'd see her again. His heart pounded in his chest.

  Athletes did not let girls get to them like this. It was bad news for winning streaks if you fell for one too hard. He wouldn't even have sex before a big game, let alone entertain some sort of school age crush. He still had to finish taking out Randy Wolfe's record—that was the number one priority in his life right now. There was no room for anything more than a casual fling, which meant lots of women, not one woman. He couldn't risk getting close to Kristin. Not now. There weren't that many more games left in the season. January inched closer every day.