by Anne Marsh
Of course, maybe that’s where I’d fucked up with Keelie Sue now that I’m thinking with my big head and there’s some space between us. I pushed, instead of giving her time. I wanted insta-trust from her, when she needed time to heal or to figure stuff out. Hell, maybe she just needed time alone. I didn’t given it to her, though, and it had been my job to make sure she had what she needed.
She hadn’t failed me—I’d failed her.
Marly sidles back out into the living room while I’m still working through this unpleasant revelation, her gaze darting between the two of us and fixating on the door. She definitely isn’t ready to trust.
“You ready to ride?” I ask her. “You pick which one of us you want to ride with, and we’ll get you somewhere safe.”
She nods—which makes me want to take a victory lap—then her gaze returns to the lighter in my hand. I hold it out to her.
“You want to do the honors, honey?”
KEELIE SUE
Life doesn’t come with a gift receipt. I should write that on a Post-It note and slap it on my new fridge. I yearned to be free of the pack, and I got my wish and then some. I have a new place and enough money in the bank to hold me over while I figure out my next steps. Find myself a new, pack-free job, go back to school, take a cruise and blow it all on the slots as soon as I hit international waters… for the first time in my life, I have options.
I’ve put out some feelers job-wise, and I have an interview scheduled for next week. Things are just falling into place for me, and I should be doing a happy, happy dance each night when I go to bed. I’ve got it all. Sure my head swivels like I’m starring in The Exorcist whenever I hear a bike’s pipes roar, but that’s a minor detail. It’s just because it seems too good to be true that I’m pack-free.
After two weeks, it seems kind of lonely.
Jace didn’t ban me from talking to anyone in the pack, but I figure it was implied. If I want to walk away from all things wolf, I can’t pop back for a chat or to go out for drinks, and it’s not like I made any friends in the pack anyhow. The bikers are all guys—women aren’t allowed to patch in and become members—and I never had a real opportunity to become friends with the women my father’s wolves mated. Eventually, I know, I’ll make human friends. We’ll do human shit, and I’ll build myself a new, human life.
Eventually doesn’t mean right fucking now however, so alone it is for the foreseeable future.
I curl up on my new couch and consider my Sunday fun day options. I have a stack of paperbacks, a loaded Kindle, and a laptop. The building is quiet—most if not all of my new neighbors are still asleep because normal people don’t wake up at dark o’clock on a weekend unless they have stuff to do. I don’t have their commitments, and my wolf whines a little. I’ve ignored her the best I can, and she’s lonely. Not sure what I thought would happen after I left the pack, but I’ve been kind of pretending to myself that I’m every bit as human as the other bodies in the building. I’m not good at lying, not even to myself.
I drag on my running shoes, pocket my keys, and let myself out. It’s still early, the sun just threatening to poke over the horizon, and darkness blankets my neighborhood. I get into my new car and drive until I’m out of the city and it’s just me, the road, and the bayou. When I roll down the window, the familiar scents pour in. Before I know it, I’ve pulled off onto the side of the road and killed the engine. Maybe a run can fix my all-over-the-map emotions.
I haven’t shifted in months, but suddenly I can’t wait. Getting out of my car, I take a quick look around, but the road is as empty and lonely as it was a minute ago. Okay then. Before I can overthink things, I strip, folding my clothes and dropping them onto the seat. When I’m naked, my bare toes curling into the dirt, I lock up, hide the car keys in some nearby bushes, and shift.
I never liked shifting, never welcomed the sickening sensation of my body rearranging itself to make room for my wolf, but today it feels more right than wrong. Kind of like stretching when you’ve sat too long, or working a painful kink out of a muscle. I just let go, and my wolf leaps to fill the empty spot inside me, yipping with pleasure when I stand there on four paws. I lift my head. Inhale.
This is better.
I don’t have anywhere in particular to be or to go, so I just run, letting my wolf pick the direction. The sun comes up, flooding the bayou with light and warmth, the bright light bouncing off the water’s smooth surface in almost painful slivers. The birds wake up too, calling to each other as they get on with the business of nesting and hunting down breakfast.
I’ve been running about an hour when I encounter the other wolf. His scent wraps around me, the smell both comforting and welcome, like life just set a hot stack of pancakes in front of me and I’m starving. My wolf drinks him in greedily, inhaling the masculine goodness of Jace’s scent, and if I’d been in human form, I’d have had a big, dumb-ass grin painted all over my face. There are advantages to being a werewolf after all.
I’m upwind, and the big, dark wolf that lopes out of the bushes must not realize I’m there, because it freezes, its body radiating aggression. It only takes him a second to recognize me, the aggression changing into something else. His ears stand up and he stiffens his legs, radiating dominance.
Instinctively, I drop to the ground, rolling onto my back and watching Jace. My wolf whines happily, glad to see him and there isn’t much the human part of me can do at the moment. Not like shifting’s an option—a ten-mile naked hike through the bayou isn’t anyone’s idea of a good time.
Jace pads closer, standing over me. His nose nudges my throat, demanding a submission my wolf is only too happy to give him. The pleasure of that simple touch pools in my belly, shooting through my body like all of my nerves have formed a conga line and are dancing out their happiness at his nearness.
He whuffs, his breath teasing my ear, and I answer with a low yip of my own. I’ve come out here looking for something—a run, an escape—but maybe my wolf has a few plans of her own as well. He nudges, and I roll to my feet. I want to run all night. With Jace.
My wolf isn’t interested in introspection. When Jace lopes toward the trees, I follow. We run for the better part of an hour. He leads, I follow, and I fall into the easy rhythm of his pace. He knows what I like, and I happily let him pick our path. I could turn, could have run in another direction or stop altogether, but both the wolf and I are unexpectedly happy.
Eventually he leads me back to my car. I don’t know if he saw me arrive, if he watched me, or if he simply picked up my original trail and doubled back. I’m kind of sorry to see my car, but I’m also tired and there’s a message in Jace’s choice of destinations.
I shift by the edge of the road, where the trees provide more than enough cover in case we have unseen, unexpected human company. The wolf isn’t worried about getting naked in front of Jace, so I go with it. The wolf’s eyes bore into me as I snag my keys from their hiding place with trembling fingers, unlock the car, and pull on my clothes. He doesn’t approach, just stands there and watches over me. That’s what Jace does, I realize. He keeps me safe. Instead of feeling stifled, I feel free. I can do what I need to do, and he’ll have my back. He’ll be watching so nothing bad happens while I go about my life—or he has been.
I told him we were done, and I walked away. Maybe I was stifling the wrong part of myself, though. Maybe my wolf needs to run and that’s okay. Before I can say any of this, however, Jace turns and disappears into the trees.
Game over.
I think about him as I drive back to my new place, and then I think about the way things ended between us. My new place isn’t bad, and in time I’ll make it truly mine. But Jace doesn’t fit here. He belongs out there in the bayou, running wild and free, and he belongs with my father’s pack.
Jace’s pack. He took care of his wolves, and he took care of me. Even after I rejected his help and betrayed his trust, he still made sure I got what I needed. He’s not Big Red and if I believe that—trul
y believe that—then I’ve kicked the best man, the best wolf I’ll ever meet to the curb. He might be possessive, but I’m not just a possession to him. When he looks at me, he sees Keelie Sue, and he cares for her. I’ve made him pay for Big Red’s mistakes and for my own, when I should have wrapped both arms around him and hung on. My wolf whines in agreement, sorry that Jace has left us in the bayou, and for the first time she and I are in complete agreement.
“I’ll fix it,” I promise her and the empty condo. Trying feels like finding the right trail through the bayou, a trail that might or might not lead back to Jace, but that I need to take.
Grabbing my laptop, I look up the nearest Harley-Davidson showroom. A Harley won’t be the same as a custom ride, but I have a point to make—and I want to make it now.
JACE
I stopped by the clubhouse to work on my bike. Something somewhere was leaking oil, and Saturday afternoon is as good a time as any to strip it down and see if I can find the problem. I’m not the only wolf playing mechanic, either. Both Fang and Ware have their tools out, pieces of their bikes strewn around them. If a cop drives by, we’ll probably look like we’ve gone into the chop shop business.
The roar of pipes bouncing off the building walls has my head swinging around. Don’t know what makes me look up, but holy shit. The bling on the bike headed toward me is downright blinding. It’s a big, black Harley with a shiny paint job with… pink sequins on the pedals. Along with a stiletto boot.
Hello.
That boot is hand-job material, and as I drag my gaze up the boot’s owner, I can’t decide which is better—the black leather pants cupping a very nice pair of legs, the formfitting jacket, or the naughty pair of lips smiling my way. I know that mouth.
“Keelie Sue.” I shove to my feet and wipe my greasy hands on a bandana. This is either really good or really bad. Since I’ve set her free from the pack, she has no business riding up to our front door.
No matter how hot she looks doing it.
She kills the bike, straddling the seat as she pulls off the helmet and shakes her hair free.
“New hobby?” I nod my head toward her bike, trying not to devour her with my eyes. I wasn’t good enough for her, and that is my problem. I’ll fucking respect her now though.
She bites her lip, but she keeps her gaze pinned on mine. Christ. I want to lick her mouth, shove my tongue inside and kiss her hello. “I’ve come for what’s mine.”
“Oh, yeah?” I toss the rag on the ground. “You didn’t clean the place out when you left?”
A responsible Alpha doesn’t wrestle a female wolf to the ground and show her with his body exactly how much he’s missed her. Turning over a new leaf sucks.
She looks kinda mutinous. “You’re the one who told me to go.”
“You made it clear you didn’t want to stay,” I counter. Fuck. I’ve heard wolf pups marshal better arguments than that crap. “What did you leave behind?”
“You.” She throws a leg over the bike, and fucking hell, she doesn’t hesitate. She eats up the pavement in those boots and makes straight for me. I open my arms up when she gets close because otherwise she’d slam into me and I’ve kinda missed her.
More than missed her.
Fuck, I’ve been hers since day one, and if she’s come back, that works for me.
KEELIE SUE
Jace opens his arms and I walk into them, ignoring the eyes of the other wolves on us.
“I claim you.” Jace’s hard eyes soften when he looks at me, and I don’t think it’s because he’s remembering me naked as a jaybird in his bed.
“Right back at you,” I declare fiercely. I’m done waiting for crap to happen to me. If Jace takes me, I take him.
“It won’t be easy.” He rubs my shoulder with his hand, his thumb drawing a seductive back and forth motion on my skin. “You want easy, you gotta stay away from the pack.”
“I tried it. I didn’t like it,” I admit.
“That’s over. You’re pack.” His arms tighten around me, and I have a feeling that he won’t ever let go if he thinks I’m really headed for the proverbial door.
Running isn’t the answer anymore either. Some memories stick with a girl. Jace is one of those, but in a good way. I don’t want to forget him.
He is pack. My previous role in the Breed was downright humiliating. I was their accountant, their punching bag, and their sometime whore. I’m never going there again.
“My pack,” Jace clarifies, like he knows exactly where my head went. “You’re always first.”
I like that. I’ve never been first before.
He lowers his head and brushes his mouth over mine, softlike. “You got feelings for me, sweetheart.”
“I’ve got something.” I see his face so close to mine, his eyes filled with the something I’ve craved for so long without knowing it. Jace Jones is my Alpha, my wolf, and my everything.
His thumb dips lower, trailing over the sensitive skin at the juncture of my arm. “And I’ve got something for you.”
He steps away from me for a moment, snagging something from the saddlebag on his bike. Leather rustles, then he returns, holding a small black box. He sets the box in my palm, curling my fingers around it.
“I thought we could do this thing both ways, human and wolf, but there’s a couple of things you should know before you open that. First, I claimed you, my wolf claimed you. If you’ve got any doubts on that account, I’m happy to settle them.”
He’s called me his before, and that time he marked me with his scent and with his body. He’s so right that I ache with the knowledge. He set me free, but what I want—who I want—is standing right here in front of me, and I’ll take whatever he offers me.
“Second, I love you. Should have said that sooner, but we had shit to work out, and the moment wasn’t right. So I’m saying it now. You can say it back or not, but you gotta be honest with me. You say yes and you put that on, you don’t run from me again.”
“Because I’ve used up my chances?” I turn the box over in my hand.
“Because you’ll fucking break my heart, Keelie girl.”
That’s my cue to open the box and my breath catches. The ring, nestled in a little bed of black velvet, blazes with diamonds surrounded by tawny-colored stones. Topaz.
“Reminded me of you,” he says. “Pretty but hard as nails when someone tries to beat on you. And you’ve got gorgeous wolf eyes.”
“You think we can work this out?”
“Not gonna be easy,” he acknowledges. “Pretty sure I’m gonna keep on giving orders and you’ll get pissed off sometimes, but yeah… I think we can work it out.”
“You really mean it?” I reach up and tug his face down to mine. “About loving me?”
“Every word,” he says hoarsely. “You wanna put me out of my misery here?”
“I love you,” I tell him, sliding my hands up his arms and linking them behind his head. Doesn’t mean I don’t still have questions though. And honestly, I’m not sure what kind of relationship we can have moving forward. He’s the new Alpha of the Breed, and I’ve spent a lifetime wanting to put as much distance as possible between me and the wolves. Accepting Jace’s mating claim means I don’t ever walk away from the pack.
He kisses me then, the world narrowing to the man who holds me in his arms so carefully. Jace might be rough on the outside, but on the inside he’s all mine. He kisses me. I kiss him back because I’m not doing this thing halfway, and it’s a long time before either of us comes up for air. When we do, though, I still have one question.
“Are we okay now?” I rejected him and then walked away from him, after all, and wolves aren’t the forgive-and-forget type.
He catches my lower lip with his teeth and nips lightly. “We’re good. At least you didn’t try to feed me to the gators like your first mate.”
I’m never living that down, so I punch him in the arm. Jace just laughs and settles me closer. He’s won this round, and we both know it. Still, thi
ngs are changing too fast, and my head kind of swims when I think about it all. Less than a week ago, Jace was a sexy memory (or a darned embarrassing one, depending on how I took that spanking). Now we’re mates, and he leads my pack. It’s like my life jumped on a rollercoaster and I scored a lifetime of free rides. It’s all good—but I really want a chance to calm down.
“Can we slow things down just a little?”
He looks down at my hand, which has somehow found its way to his chest. My fingers draw little circles on his shirt, tracing a naughty pattern around his nipple through the fabric. “Give me more words.”
“Date. Try normal things and get to know each other.” I shrug.
He stills. “You don’t want this?”
By this, he means himself, and no, that isn’t what I mean at all.
“I love you,” I repeat, “but I want to take things slow. Figure out how we fit together when we’re not in bed.”
His slow smile is downright wicked. “You realize we can have sex somewhere other than a bed, right?”
That grin lights me up from the inside out—Jace smiles, and I melt. I have a feeling that’s going to happen plenty more times. He’s so gorgeous and he’s all mine.
“You can play show and tell,” I whisper to him, and his breath hitches, growing rougher.
“I want you to wear my ring,” he says. “You want time, I’ll give you time. I’ll give you the fucking world if that’s what you want, but the pack needs to understand that we’re together.”
“Okay,” I agree, looking down at the box in the hand that isn’t groping Jace. “I can do that.” It isn’t like we aren’t already married in the eyes of the pack. Shoot, according to wolf law, he owns me body and soul. It doesn’t change how we feel about each other, but it’s a big part of what makes me want to feel my way a little more slowly into this relationship.
“And I want you to move in with me.”