by Afton Locke
Since her pack needed her at home more than ever, there could only be one reason. Her mate was here.
Well, she didn’t want a damn mate, she thought as she got out of the SUV and flicked her long, dark hair off her sweaty face. She wanted her mother back. Every Wolf had a life’s mate, but why did hers belong to a strange pack?
She swallowed hard as she opened the front door. Ugh. The place was a bigger dive inside than outside. Paneling and dusty old animal heads covered the walls. The bar stools, upholstered with hideous green vinyl, probably groaned when they turned.
First, dinner, then a place to stay and, hopefully, a gig singing and playing her guitar. She had to pay for her time here somehow. If she did meet her mate, she could say no thanks and still go her own way, straight back to Lamar Canyon to fight for her pack.
Tyler Brooks was next on her list. The arrogant rancher and his hired hands had killed more wolves than anyone else in the area. While visiting a bar in Cody, she’d heard his men bragging about a wolf’s death. The description of it fit her mother. One of them had probably shot her, but which?
Visiting South Dakota would have to be enough for her mother. Staying here was out of the question.
Ogden sat at the wooden counter in Gee’s Bar, tearing into his hot hamburger. A good meal was exactly what he needed. Sitting down for a while felt damn good, too. He’d have to take breaks more often. Maybe he could fill each order after all.
A bell tinkled over the front door. He didn’t recognize the woman who stepped inside.
Another damn newcomer.
Ryker must be getting lax in his Enforcer duties. Why else would he let so many people enter town? Ogden set down the forgotten half of his sandwich on the cracked plate. She didn’t resemble a prissy tourist, though. Wearing cowboy boots and a big plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves, she looked like a local. Walked like one, too. An eyeful of curves encased in snug jeans sent blood rushing to his groin. Her shirt had too many buttons undone…or maybe not enough.
Damn. He came here for dinner, not a peep show. When she took a seat several stools away from him and rested her elbows on the counter, he took another gulp of his burger. The sooner he finished it and got back to work, the better.
The long, red streak in her black hair, which she smoothed with her fingers, reminded him of a bolt of lightning. She probably drove the red SUV which had raced past the mill earlier. Red wasn’t his favorite color. It meant trouble, the last thing he needed.
“Is there a menu or something?” she asked Paul, the waiter.
“He doesn’t talk.” Which meant Ogden had to. So much for an easy escape. He couldn’t leave the woman here to starve, could he? “There’s no menu, either. They’ve got fried pickles, steamed broccoli, and burgers. Take your pick.”
“O-kay.” She rolled her eyes, which told Ogden what she thought of the bar and the whole town. Fine with him. The place already had too many people.
“If you smile at him, he might put cheese on the burger.”
“A cheeseburger it is,” she replied. “And a Coke, if they’ve got one.”
Paul nodded and poured her drink while a radio with fuzzy reception played alternative rock.
“Thanks, Mr.…?”
“Ogden Woods. I run the town sawmill.”
She took a swig of soda, ignoring the straw. “How quaint. I’m Lara Wolfe.”
Wolfe. Why was he not surprised? Of course, she was a Werewolf, too. He’d sensed it as soon as she’d walked in. Her scent teased him, begging him to move over a few stools until her rounded butt perched on his lap, grinding against his erection. It reminded him of a thunderstorm, fresh and electrifying.
“So, what brings you to Los Lobos?” he asked.
Her shoulders stiffened. “A family matter.”
He clenched his jaw shut so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask more questions. He didn’t usually act nosey, much less waste his time on chitchat. Hopefully, her family business—whatever it was—wouldn’t take long.
“Is there a bathroom here?”
“The outhouse is out back.” He grinned, realizing he hadn’t smiled much lately. “I’m kidding. The restroom is through there.”
She laughed. “The outhouse would have been fine with me.”
He could listen to her talk all day. She had the sexiest, huskiest voice he’d ever heard. It even had a little lilt in it, which reminded him of music. He’d never seen such pretty, haunting eyes. They reminded him of cloudy days and softened her red streak. What color were they? Gray?
Blood rushed through his limbs. He ached to lay her on top of the bar and plow himself between her thighs. Desire battled with pain in his bones and sinews. Clenching the counter until his knuckles turned white, he fought the havoc in his body. Hell, he was completely out of control. If she came any closer, he might shift. Then he’d be too achy to get much work done the rest of the evening.
Not to mention how embarrassing an involuntary shift at the bar would be. Why was he a Werewolf? He couldn’t shift when he wanted to and sometimes it happened when he didn’t.
As soon as she disappeared around the corner, he yanked his wallet out of his back pocket and flung some dollars on the counter to pay the bill. He stood, his legs trembling so hard he had to grab the counter for balance. Why couldn’t he stroll out the door, get into his truck, and never see her again?
He had to get out of here!
Realizing hairs had sprouted from his chin, he wiped his sweaty face with the paper napkin. His canines had lengthened, too, pricking his tight bottom lip. No, his transformation couldn’t happen. Not now. But he knew, deep in his bones, the beautiful woman striding back into the room was her.
His mate.
After sitting, he picked up a nearby newspaper and hid his face while he composed himself back to full human form. He even breathed through his mouth so her scent wouldn’t drive him crazy. At least the smell of the cheeseburger Paul set in front of her helped mask it.
“Hey, do you know of any places to stay here?” she asked Ogden after taking a hearty bite of her burger. “I didn’t see any motels on the way in.”
Watching her lick ketchup off her finger mesmerized him too much to answer right away.
“Gee Rivermoon rents rooms on the second floor of this bar, but he’s full up. A bed and breakfast is being renovated, but it isn’t open yet.”
“Then I guess I’ll park my truck somewhere and sleep in it.”
She was definitely no prissy female. The thought of keeping her warm in the back of her red SUV made his muscles tingle with the urge to shift again.
“There’s a shed on my land. It’s not in very good shape, but it would be a roof over your head,” he blurted out.
The wind kicked up outside, making the siding creak. He couldn’t leave a lone woman out in the weather to fend for herself, especially if she was his mate.
“Well, maybe for tonight, anyway.” She finished her burger and paid the bill. “Thanks.”
“You can follow me,” he said as they both stood. “I’m heading there.”
Was he out of his mind? He’d invited trouble to his doorstep, and he had a terrible feeling he’d never be the same again. Maybe when she saw what a dump his shed was, she’d hightail it back to wherever she came from.
***
Lara followed the tired-looking pickup truck in her SUV. Keeping up with it was no trouble. She could have run it over.
This is my mate? Please, say it isn’t so.
Surely, her mother hadn’t sent her on an eight-hour drive to find a boring workhorse. Ogden. Even his name was dull. From the looks of the brown, silver-tipped whiskers, which temporarily sprouted on his face, he’d almost shifted in the restaurant. As the last Dominant of the Lamar Canyon Pack, she could sure do a lot better than someone who couldn’t even control his shifts.
He worked with wood. Hardly the warrior she needed to help fight her battle in Lamar Canyon. Not a battle—a war—against the gun-toting ranchers who had
killed her mother and over half her pack. She didn’t need help, anyway. What could he possibly do for her? Build a doghouse?
Maybe her real mate lived in some other part of this lame town. But she knew better. His blue gaze—peaceful and intense at the same time—had probed straight into her soul in Hee Haw’s Bar, or whatever it was called.
Okay, he was sexy in a rugged, blue-collar kind of way. His chestnut-brown hair begged to be tousled. The slight silver at his temples and sun-weathered face made him look well seasoned. She’d had the urge to hop onto his lap instead of eating her cheeseburger. The faded denim clothes he wore looked ragged enough to fall off and reveal the rest of his tanned, strong body.
Heat pooled between her thighs. Although she couldn’t see him as her mate, she wouldn’t mind scratching her itch for a night—for fun. It would sure beat seducing those slimy ranchers at bars in Wyoming to get them to stop killing wolves.
But if he was her mate, having sex with him would seal the bond between them and there’d be no getting rid of him. Hopefully, he didn’t want a commitment either.
She followed as he turned off the main road. If you can call it a road. They passed Los Lobos Lumber, which must be his mill. The secondary road snaking past it was in even worse shape than the main one.
After one too many bone-jarring potholes, he stopped at a cute log cabin in the woods. Not far from it stood a rough-looking shed, which was probably her lodging.
When they got out of their vehicles, he walked through the front door without inviting her into his house. She followed and looked around inside, curious how the stranger lived. Most everything was made of wood, including the log walls, and the homey atmosphere surprised her. Gingham curtains hung at the windows. The open space included a cozy loft at one end and a big stone fireplace on the other. And, I’ll be damned, even the proverbial fur rug in front of it. The kitchen area had a pantry with enough food to survive an apocalypse.
The place was made for love. Because they were alone together, the tingles she’d felt earlier intensified. He smelled like cedar, warm and spicy.
“Nice place,” she said.
“I call it home.” A proud smile lit his face. “I’ll get some bedding together for you.”
Bedding…. The tingling in her nipples morphed to throbbing.
“We can walk from here,” he said when he returned from the closet with a roll of covers in his arms. She carried a lantern plus the food and water he’d given her.
As they hiked through the woods, the wind fingered their clothes, stirring her up inside. The ground was soft with fragrant pine needles. She itched to throw down the items she carried and shift so she could really explore.
“Where are you from, Lara?” he asked.
He had a deep, resonant voice. The way it echoed against the quiet trees tickled her ears in a good way.
“Yellowstone. Lamar Canyon.”
He stopped short, cracking the stick he stepped on. “Are you a member of the pack there?”
“Yes.”
So he knew about it. Understandable since the pack was in a neighboring state, but why did he look so pale when she’d mentioned it? Wolves didn’t go around cracking sticks in the woods like lumbering bears either. Was he connected to her pack somehow? Maybe her mother knew a lot more than she’d told her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t ask her now.
“And the name of your pack here?”
“Tao,” he replied. “There are about two hundred of us.”
There was no need to ask each other about being Werewolves. They’d realized it as soon as they’d met. To her chagrin, she also didn’t have to verify he was an Omega, not a Dominant. He broadcast his lower status in the lupine pecking order with his unassuming posture.
When they arrived at the shed, he pushed open the squeaky door, revealing a room with two small windows and a bare wood floor littered with dead bugs. Cobwebs swayed from the ceiling. It sure wasn’t the Hilton.
“I didn’t realize the place was such a mess. I’ll get a broom.” He frowned and shook his head. “What am I saying? I can’t let you sleep here.”
“It’s fine,” she said quickly. Camping out at his place would be too dangerous.
“You’ll have to stay with me,” he insisted. “You can have my bed.”
A tingle bolted down her legs when she imagined sharing it with him.
“I’ll be fine, really,” she said, setting down the items she carried. “I camp a lot.”
“I built it myself,” he said, looking up, “so I can at least tell you the roof won’t leak if it rains tonight. You’re welcome to use the house when I’m at the mill, which is most of the time. I leave it unlocked.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll fetch the broom.” She reached for the bedding the same moment he moved to help her set it down.
The contact marked the first time they’d touched. His skin—tough and velvety at the same time, like the hide of a big-horned buck—was hot. Below the surface, thick veins and muscle called to the most primal part of her being. Deciding whether or not to mate with him was no longer a choice. She had to lie with this man before she went crazy.
The bedding fell to the dirty floor in a heap—a ready-made bed. He stared into her eyes with his blue, endless ones as he kissed her. His cedar scent grew even warmer, mixing with male arousal while he made a slow, thorough exploration of her mouth.
A sigh of surrender escaped her throat before she could stop it. His lips were as strong as his arms. An animalistic grunt resonated through his chest, stimulating her breasts, which pressed against him.
Male stubble scraped her face as his lips left hers to explore the underside of her jaw and the lobe of her ear. Her fingers dug into the faded shirt over his broad shoulders when hard teeth nipped the side of her neck.
Claim me!
Her pelvis brushed against his, needing him to quench the sweet, wet ache building deep in her cleft. She’d forgotten intimacy with a man could be a pleasure instead of a chore.
Before she could react, he gripped her by the sides of her arms and hauled her against the wall. His mouth ransacked hers, pushing it open with his hot tongue, which swept every corner. Bare two by fours dug into her back, but she felt nothing but him.
He’d built this room, and he acted as if he planned to take her apart, board by board. His erection pressed against her mound through their jeans, promising mindless satisfaction.
Maybe Mr. Woods wasn’t so boring after all.
The man trapping her in his steely arms didn’t seem so Omega anymore. In fact, he felt right down Dominant. No longer capable of logical thought, she unbuttoned his shirt. The gesture rewarded her with even hotter skin, muscles, and a smattering of chest hair. He closed his eyes and groaned as her fingers skated down his belly to the waistband of his jeans.
Before she could go farther, two vise-like grips encircled her wrists. Damn. His hands were every bit as strong as they looked.
“There’s an attraction between us,” he said, staring into her eyes.
No shit. What are you going to do about it, Mr. Lumberjack?
“What is it about you?” he asked next. “Why do I want you so much?”
“I think you already know,” she replied.
He scrubbed the lower half of his face with his hand. “Exactly what family business brings you here anyway, Lara?”
The less he knew, the better. “And why are you so curious, exactly?”
“I want to know how soon you’ll be gone.”
The words stung harder than she expected. Her swollen breasts and cleft throbbed, reluctant to accept a mating wouldn’t take place.
“Don’t worry. I won’t stay long.” She might even light out at dawn. This town was useless, and so was he.
His voice softened. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I’ve got lumber orders coming out of my ears. I’m not looking for a mate.”
“Neither am I,” she blurted. But didn’t her mother send her here to find one? “W
e are, though, aren’t we? Wolves have only one in a lifetime.”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so, but it doesn’t mean we have to act on our impulses.”
She couldn’t help hanging her head. After spending less than an hour with her, he’d already made her weak. She didn’t need this!
“Believe me, if you weren’t my probable mate, I would have had you on this floor already for a quick lay.” He buttoned his shirt. “I’ll go get the broom now.”
“Leave it outside the door.”
As soon as he left, she sank to her knees in the cedar-scented bedding. So, he didn’t want to bind himself to her either. Good. Relief washed through her, followed by an emptiness she didn’t expect.