Country Star Werebear

by Candace Ayers

  “I shifted!” Wesley burst out, and then glanced around the room, paranoid that someone had heard him but the non-descript jazz music coming from the lobby speakers was doing a good job of drowning out their conversation.

  “What?” Of course, Derek had heard him, he was just shocked. He’d had no idea that Wesley was a shifter like he and Tanner.

  “I know. Shocked the hell out of me too. I never knew I was a shifter. Never knew Tanner was either, till I sensed him in the woods one night on a hunt. We fought over the same elk. It got a bit tense, but since then he’s been amazing. Told me about you too. Fuck,” Wesley exhaled, “I feel like I’ve been transported to the Twilight Zone.”

  “So you didn’t know anyone in your family who could shift?” Derek asked curiously.

  Wesley shook his head.

  “I never knew my dad. Or anyone else from his side… Just my mom and she died when I was a kid.”

  Derek could have kicked himself. He knew about Wesley’s family history. He shouldn’t have brought up the subject.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t expecting you to say what you did.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Wesley said hastily, “I guess my dad must have been a shifter, too. Tanner looked into it. Thinks I was probably a descendent of the Ontario clan. That’s where my dad was from.”

  Derek nodded. The Ontario shifters were a large clan. Most Canadian shifters were descended from that family line in one way or another.

  “So, is that what you’re doing, hunting down family roots?” Derek asked.

  “Nah,” Wesley looked down at the table, avoiding Derek’s gaze and started peeling the label from his beer bottle.

  “Wesley. What’s up?”

  Derek had the feeling they could talk in circles all night without getting to the bottom of why Wesley had come to Denver, and why he wasn’t back at the ranch helping out Tanner and Josiah, the older ranch hand.

  “It’s… complicated.” Wesley looked lost. Derek studied the guy. His clothes had seen better days, his face naturally falling into a weary expression that didn’t belong on someone Wesley’s age.

  “Look, I don’t know if I can help, but I know I can listen and it looks like you need to bend and ear.”

  Wesley nodded.

  “It’s Chloe.” He rasped, “I had to leave because of her.”

  Derek nodded encouragingly, but his heart sank. If Wesley had hurt his niece in any way, he’d send the boy packing. He’d watched Chloe’s back since she was a kid. But he’d also known Wesley for years. The kid had a rough start in the world, but despite that he’d always been a good soul—hard worker, and honest as the day was long.

  “You got a crush on her or something?” Derek guessed.

  “Worse. She’s my mate.”

  Derek froze.

  “No shit. Tanner know?” He asked shakily.

  Wesley shook his head. “Oh, hell no. Chloe doesn’t either. I’d never tell him. Or her. Chloe deserves a heck of a lot better’n me. She’s too smart for a thick headed ranch hand. But that’s why I had to get away. Figure it’s time I flew the coop, anyway. And now…I don’t really know where to go.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a ranch hand,” Derek said quietly. “It’s an honest living. And, don’t put yourself down. There’s enough people in this world just itching to do that for you—no matter who you are.”

  “I have no intention of robbing Chloe of a normal life. I’m a shifter, and I’ve got no way of providing her the kind of future she deserves. Best thing I can do for her is to stay away.”

  Derek didn’t know what to say. He knew that Tanner wouldn’t be pleased that Wesley, who was practically a son to him, had fallen for his only daughter. Besides, Chloe was only sixteen. But Wesley was family, too, in a way. He’d been on the ranch for years. It was his home. Without it and the Holt family, he’d be left drifting from state to state, farm to farm without any place to call home. Derek didn’t know much about mates or love. He’d never been lucky enough to find his own mate, unlike his brother Tanner who knew at first glance that Heather was the one for him. Which was how most of their kind found their mates. Derek couldn’t imagine what it would be like to roam the country knowing that you had found you other half, and then having to turn your back on them.

  Derek took a slug of beer.

  “I can’t give you any words of wisdom to make it all better. I don’t know anything about love, let alone mates. But I know a thing or two about being lonely, and I know about not having a home.”

  Wesley looked up at him and for the first time, Derek realized that look in Wesley’s eyes was grief. His heart went out to him, but he couldn’t lie to the kid. He was what, twenty-one? Twenty-two? And Chloe was only sixteen. Reason number one for him being freaked out enough to run, but the fact that she was the daughter of the man who had taken Wesley in and welcomed him as family when he was just a teenager with no one and nothing, was reason number two. Derek couldn’t very well tell him to go back to Chloe “What do I do?” Wesley asked.

  “You start a new life,” Derek replied. He reached around to his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. There was a wad of bills, and in the change pocket a single key card for his penthouse in Chicago. He placed it all on the table and pushed it toward Wesley.

  “This will get you started. You can have the flat for as long as you like. I’m never there anyway.”

  Wesley started at the haul, gobsmacked.

  “Derek… I can’t. This is too much—”

  “Let me help you out. Please. You’re practically family and it’s just money. I’ve got a hell of a lot more, enough to know it’s all worthless,” Derek drawled, realising how painfully true what he’d just said was. “Get a job, build a life. Make something of yourself. Being a shifter is a curse. We need all the help we can get. I mean it,” he added as he saw Wesley about to protest again.

  “I’ll pay you back.” He said eventually. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Derek shook his head. He didn’t want anything back.

  “Did you just leave Chloe without saying anything?” Derek asked.

  Wesley nodded.

  “Write her a letter. Tell her you’re sorry. She’s hero worshiped you since I can remember.”

  “Oh, fuck…” Wesley turned away. Derek could see the guy was fighting tears and Derek took it as his cue to leave.

  “Call me if you need anything. All my numbers are on the fridge in the penthouse. If you can’t get hold of me, call Audrey.”

  Wesley tried to smile.

  “Thanks Derek. Seriously.”

  “See you around, kid.”

  Derek took the elevator up to his room mulling over the conversation with Wesley. He shoved the plastic card into the slot. The poor guy. Barely out of his teens. He wished he could wake up Red. Try and persuade her to be his drinking buddy for the night. He could use her level head.

  Yeah, right.

  The truth was, he felt shitty. He didn’t want Wesley to have the same life he’d had. For all the platinum records, the money, the screaming crowds, the fame and the gold-star treatment wherever he went, it all amounted to a whole lot of nothing. It was worthless. Because the moment he was alone, in an empty hotel room, the great abyss inside him yawned and left him feeling numb.

  He couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying to Red next door. Without knowing what the hell he was doing, Derek placed his palm on the wall between their rooms.

  Leave her alone, he silently chided himself.

  He just wanted to hear her voice, have it bring him back down to earth. It had been one hell of a turbulent day. Before he could change his mind, Derek crossed over to the bedside table and dialed her room.

  “Audrey speaking?”

  He smiled as he heard her voice.

  She wasn’t pleased to hear from him but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up. A weird silence dragged out as he tried to formulate something to say, but his head was too fuzzy and f
ull to make sense of anything.

  She bid him goodnight in her ultra-efficient way, and Derek reluctantly placed the phone back in its cradle.

  A moment later he picked it up again.

  “Room service?”

  “Hey, can I get a bottle of Jim Bean?”

  The voice on the end of the line coughed with polite embarrassment.

  “I’m terribly sorry sir, but we don’t keep that brand in house.”

  Derek sighed. He forgot it was the kind of place that wouldn’t sell run of the mill bourbon.

  “A bottle of whatever you’ve got would be fine, then.”

  “Very well sir, someone will be up with it shortly.”

  “Thanks.”

  Derek dropped the receiver. Sleep was only half a bottle away.

  Chapter 5

  Audrey paced back and forth across her hotel room.

  Her bare feet sank into the thick, beige carpet. She idly thought about how much things had changed since she’d started the job. The gradual upgrade from mid-range motels with vending machines to five-star hotels in big cities with fluffy bathrobes and marble bathrooms.

  She shouldn’t have driven Derek to the hotel. She should have called a driver instead. He did weird things to her head, to her body—to every darn nerve ending she had.

  She caught sight of herself in the mirror and frowned. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes just that bit too bright. What was her body playing at? She shook her head. It was just lust. She had been alone for a long time and had often felt a crushing loneliness, although she was only aware of it when Zach wasn’t around. And, let’s face it, Derek Holt was a heartthrob—wealthy, good looking, talented. No, this wasn’t about Derek Holt at all. It was about her and her loneliness. It could have been any man.

  Oh, please, her subconscious laughed at her. Like anyone else had the same effect on her as Derek. That tall frame, broad shoulders square cut jaw, hips that his low-slung jeans managed to hang off while still hugging his perfectly muscled ass. The man was every single women’s fantasy.

  “He’s not for you,” she murmured to herself in the mirror. “He’s not what you want. He’s not what you and Zach need.”

  Just saying her son’s name out loud made her feel better. Zach was the priority, and nothing would ever get in the way of that. If Audrey was going to look for a man, or start a relationship, it would be with ‘dad’ material. Maybe someone with kids of his own, or someone who was ready and eager to start a family. Derek was a million miles away from that. Eye candy and nothing else.

  Get out of my head, Holt.

  She checked her phone, but there wasn’t any news from her mom. Just emails about tomorrow night’s performance and some final details she could sort out in the morning. Then it would be home. A blessed distance from Derek Holt and a return to her son.

  She walked into the bathroom and ran the shower till the water ran burning hot and steamed the mirrors. She stepped in, grateful for the pounding over her skin to wash away all the tension. As soon as she was home, she’d start the ball rolling in the direction of a career move. It was time. There was plenty of local talent in the Chicago area, where she and Zach lived, and plenty of record labels where she could get a less hands-on role and spend more quality time with her son.

  Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around her she brushed her teeth and combed out her wet hair. Her fingertips zigzagged across the mirror wiping away steam until, in the stark bathroom light, she could clearly see the shadows under her eyes. Exhaustion.

  Touring was taking almost as much a toll on her as it was on Holt.

  Audrey had just slipped in between the crisp bedsheets when the hotel phone rang. She reached for it, propping herself up on the pillow – silently praying it wasn’t the hotel calling about some dumb thing Derek did.

  “Audrey speaking?”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  Audrey inhaled sharply. Derek’s gravelly voice felt like it was caressing her over the telephone wire.

  Shit.

  Audrey looked down at the flashing light on the phone. At least he was calling from his room and sounded sober.

  “You’re in your room?”

  She heard the sound of his faint, throaty laugh.

  “I am. Didn’t want you to worry, Red.”

  “Well. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She waited, expecting him to hang up. Instead, silence stretched out between them. What was he waiting for?

  “Well, goodnight then,” she snapped.

  “Night Red. Sleep well.”

  She bit down hard on her lip and quickly put the phone back in its cradle. Pulling a pillow over her head she groaned in frustration. She hated it when he drawled in that lazy, easy manner of his. It sent a bolt of electricity running right down to her core and she clenched her thighs together.

  “Audrey Reid, you need to get away from that man,” she whispered in the dark. “Far, far away.”

  The next morning, Audrey woke up to a sleepy morning sun that promised a bright, blazing Denver day. She dressed and showered quickly, desperate to get at least three cups of hot coffee down her before she had to deal with the mayhem that Red Rock would bring.

  She ordered room service, pleased and grateful when it arrived almost instantaneously. Sitting at the desk in the room, she ran through the schedule and the emails she hadn’t gotten to last night. When nine am came around, it was time to try and rouse Derek. She took him a steaming cup of coffee, promising she’d go easy on him this morning. He’d done three gigs in a row over the last week. That would wear down anyone.

  She knocked on the door.

  Silence.

  That was nothing unusual. Derek was a heavy sleeper. Anxious not to awaken the rest of the hotel, she tried again with firmer knocks. When there was still no reply, she decided to use her spare key. She always got one whenever they shared a hotel, and when she wasn’t travelling with them, instructed Jared to do the same.

  She placed the coffee carefully down on the floor and pushed the door open—to the shock of her week.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  A half-dressed girl, in bra and panties, with long, brunette hair stood cockily in the middle of the room, hands on her hips.

  Audrey glanced around the room. Dotted about the carpet were various items of clothing all branded with the hotel’s logo.

  “Well?” Audrey demanded.

  “I was here first. And, besides I could ask you the same thing,” the girl snapped, looking Audrey up and down with her eyebrows raised.

  It was then that Audrey realized that the scene she thought she’d walked in on—Derek bedding one of the hotel staff—was perhaps not quite what it seemed. Derek was on the bed alone snoring away, but the spot next to him seemed to be undisturbed. Most likely the girl had just arrived and planned to surprise Derek with a very special wake up call.

  “I’m his assistant. You need to leave.”

  “Maybe he wants me here,” the girl argued.

  “Not this morning he doesn’t,” Audrey sighed. She entered further into the room, picking up a white blouse that had been flung over a chair and holding it out to the girl.

  The girl pulled a face, snatching the proffered blouse.

  “How the hell do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  Audrey continued handing the girl her clothes. She hated doing this—playing mother hen for Derek and his legions of adoring female fans.

  “Look, I can give you concert tickets,” Audrey said. “You plus one. But please, you need to leave now –”

  “Oh my god!” The girl screeched. “How do you know he doesn’t want me here?”

  Audrey tried not to lose her temper.

  “Listen. You’re young and beautiful. You can do better. I promise. Derek Holt is not the one for you. Plus, if you don’t leave, I’m going to have to call security.”

  “Fine,” the girl hissed. She grabbed
her belongings off Audrey and sauntered off, slamming the door behind her. Audrey shook her head at the sheer boldness of some people.

  “She can do better, huh?” A voice croaked out of the blind-shuttered bedroom.

  Audrey marched over to the blinds, raising them as high as they would go until weak sunshine filtered through.

  “There’s coffee in the hallway. Get up.”

  Audrey left the bedroom and went to wait in the living room area of the suite. She picked up her cell, checking messages and waiting impatiently for Derek to move out of bed.

  Finally, he appeared in the doorway of the adjoining rooms.

  He had put on yesterday’s jeans. His frame was backlit by the light of the room, highlighting his unkept hair and broad frame. Audrey didn’t understand how he could drink the way he did and still keep the washboard stomach and taut six-pack. The jeans hung off his hips, a dark-blond happy trail leading down to the waistband. She looked away, determined to remain unaffected by his looks. She wasn’t in the mood to feel enamored by him.

  “I’m sorry Red. I had no idea she’d snuck in. Honest. I was sound asleep.”

  Audrey shook her head. She didn’t want his apologies. It wasn’t his fault and she wasn’t angry with him. She was angry at herself and how much it had upset her to see a woman in Derek’s hotel room—even if it wasn’t his doing. What was wrong with her? It was no business of hers who he slept with. But, the way she was responding was just more proof that she needed to get herself another job as soon as possible.

  “Just shower, Holt. We’ve got a big day.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  He mock saluted her, heading toward the shower whilst yawning and stretching. She watched him walk away, noticing his back rippling with muscle as he moved, reminding her once again of some sleek, prowling animal.

  Get a grip, Audrey, she chastised herself.

  She heard the shower running. Exhaling with relief, she went to retrieve the coffee and then ordered up some more. They didn’t need to go down to breakfast, she’d pick Derek up something more substantial on the way to the auditorium. It would be hectic from the moment they got there—running soundchecks, ensuring the session performers knew every note by heart and making sure that everyone had the right equipment. Derek would need time back at the hotel before taking the stage, to sleep off his hangover, and then it would be back to Red Rock a few hours before the performance.