by Jane Jamison
The girl looked Heather up and down. “How do you like it? Fast or slow?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Do you want to get buzzed fast or slow? I can mix it anyway you want it, but from what I’m seeing, I’m thinking you’ll want it the fast way.” The girl flipped her dark hair back over her shoulders and leaned forward to expose her ample chest. “Let me guess. Is it man trouble?”
Heather held back the giggle. “You could say that. And yeah, I’ll take it the fast way.”
“Been there and done that, sister.” The girl slung together the drink, pouring all the clear liquors together then adding the other ingredients. Once she gave it a splash of cola, she pushed it toward Heather. “Enjoy.”
Heather paid her, smiled her thanks, then took the drink and pushed her way through the crowd to the far wall. She didn’t want to participate in the dancing, but just seeing other people having fun put her father out of her mind. Relaxing for the first time since leaving his office, she was surprised to glance at her drink and find it half empty.
So what? It’s not like I’m driving. She put the straw to her lips and took another big sip.
A sound reminding her of an animal’s growl had her pivoting toward a small group standing at the end of the bar. Two men had one of the waitresses trapped between them, and they weren’t letting her get away. Heather could see the girl trying to maintain her cool and act professionally, but their quick touches to her breasts and her butt were over the line of what any waitress should have to endure. She put her drink down on the table next to her, ignored the comments of the couple sitting there, and started moving toward the girl. Before she’d gotten within five feet of them, another man, bigger than the two men hassling the waitress, strode up to place a hand on each of their shoulders.
Holy cow shit.
The man’s dark shoulder-length hair framed a face any artist would love to capture on canvas. His square jaw was covered with a day’s stubble, and, rather than looking unkempt, the look screamed sex appeal with a capital S. His full lips pressed together in a tight smile that held no real warmth.
But it was his eyes that stole her breath. If she hadn’t already put down her drink, she would’ve dropped it. She squinted, wanting to see his amazing eyes better. Were they brown or black? Or did they appear dark and seem to lighten at the edges with bits of amber? Whatever their color, the powerful spirit, the energy resonating from them made her stop breathing. In his eyes, she saw power, anger, and something more she couldn’t define. How could she when she’d never seen anyone’s eyes look that way? His eyes contained a quality that reminded her of the pride in an animal’s. An animal who knew he was free and wild no matter where he was.
“Gentlemen, the lady asked you to stop touching her. It’s a club rule that guests keep their hands off the staff. Now let’s let Caitlyn get back to work and you two can start drinking either coffee or water. On the house.”
His voice was silk, deep and rich with an iron edge that flowed over her, melting her in some places and comforting her in others. The man should’ve done voice-over commercials for a living instead of wrangling drunks.
The first man sneered at him. “Fuck off, Banning. We come here all the time and never get any pussy. But tonight’s going to be different. Ain’t it, sweet thang?”
He started to grasp Caitlyn’s breast, but Banning caught his hand a split second after the man had moved. In one easy movement, he pulled the man’s arm back, bending his fingers toward the top of his hand. The inebriated man howled in pain and tried to pull away, but Banning wasn’t letting him go.
His friend’s face darkened as he pushed Caitlyn aside and brought his arm back, ready to send a right hook into Banning’s jaw. But his punch never connected. Instead, Banning caught the man’s fist in his hand and shoved him backward. He fell into the people standing behind him then dropped to the floor.
“Now you’ve gone and done it. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Right now I’m asking nicely.”
If this is how he asks nicely, I’d love to see him ask them the hard way.
Still holding the first man’s hand, Banning grabbed the collar of the man on the floor and hauled him to his feet. Putting them ahead of him, he headed toward the side exit closest to Heather.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t not watch him. He was like a black panther who’d taken hold of its unruly cubs and would teach them a lesson. Banning strode toward her. His gaze was on the exit when an incredible sensation that overwhelmed her senses hit her and she did the unthinkable.
Chapter Three
Brandon felt a hand on his butt and whirled around, expecting to find someone else taking up for the two drunks. Without thinking, he let his inner wolf take over and bring out his fangs. “Look, if you know what’s good for you—”
Blue eyes in a face an angel would envy met his. He froze, unable to speak. All he could do was retract his fangs and hope she hadn’t seen them. An electric energy whipped over him, almost knocking him to his knees.
What the hell? He sucked in a breath, trying to hang on to the incredible sensation.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders as she shook her head. She was above average height for a woman, with the top of her head reaching the bottom of his chin. The white blouse, dark skirt, and heels she wore were out of place in Saddles and did nothing to enhance her curves, but he could still see that she had a rockin’ body. But his attraction to her was more than just sex. It was primal and instinctive, hitting him deep in his gut.
“You didn’t mean to touch my ass?” Even as the odors and sounds around him grew louder, he could feel, smell, touch the sizzle of energy coming off her body and into his. He’d never felt anything like it, and he never wanted it to stop.
She blinked then widened her eyes as though his saying the words out loud made her action even worse. “Yes. I mean, no.”
The two drunks tried to jerk out of his hold, but he tightened his grip on them. Focusing on the beautiful woman was more important than hauling their sorry asses outside. Who was she? Where had she come from? Yet he asked a different question.
“Either way is fine with me. Do you want to grab it again?”
Her mesmerizing ocean-colored eyes widened even more. “I didn’t grab it. I just…”
“You just what?” He was enjoying teasing her. Sliding his gaze down her body, he could imagine all sorts of other ways to tease her. He wanted her to touch him again. On his ass, on his back, or, better yet, on his crotch.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She lifted her hand, her fingers curved like she was holding a glass. “I may have had too much to drink. She made it the fast way.”
He’d be sure to thank whoever had made her drink. If not for that drink, he might have missed seeing her. “Stay here.”
“What?”
“Stay put. I’ll be right back.” Hating like hell to leave her, he snarled and shoved the men forward. He used their bodies to barge through the exit then thrust them outside.
“Hey, man.”
“Keep out. From this minute on, you’re no longer welcome at Saddles.”
“You’re going to hear from my attorney, asshole.”
“Wow, really? Because that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that threat. Have a good night, gentlemen.”
He slammed the exit door then made sure it was locked before striding back to the place where he’d seen her. But she was gone. He gritted his teeth and fought to keep control. But after waiting so long for her, to feel that spark that werewolves felt whenever they’d met their mate, he couldn’t lose her now. If he did, his brothers would tan his hide, and he’d know they had every right to do so.
Grumbling, he checked the area around him then did the only thing he could think to do. Jumping on top of the bar, he scanned the club, searching for the beautiful woman who had grabbed his but
t.
“Hey, Banning, are you going to dance or what?”
A song with a strong beat started as waitresses hopped on top of the bar and moved toward him. Their grins had him swallowing hard. No way was he joining the show.
He hated looking like a fool and bent to jump off the bar when Sugar, a favorite waitress of the club’s patrons and one of the best performers, took his hand. She kept him with her, gyrating her body in a sexual way that left nothing to the imagination.
He tugged to get his hand away, but she wouldn’t let go. Instead, she slipped her arms around him and bumped her body against his.
“Come on, Brandon. Dance with me. See? The crowd’s eating it up.”
He pried her hands away from his belt buckle and, once again, started to get off the counter. Shouts for him to stay, along with a line of customers blocking his way, kept him up there another minute too long. For one of the few times in his life, he was trapped and sweating bullets.
“Shake it, bro.” Rick, grinning from ear to ear, waved a dollar bill at him. “Move that moneymaker.”
DJ stood next to his brother, a beer raised in his hand, as he hooted and hollered, stirring the crowd into a higher frenzy. “Take it off, big guy.”
He’d get them back if it was the last thing he did. Until then, there was only one escape route. He pushed Sugar’s hands off him and pivoted, putting his back to the crowd. Before she could get hold of him again, he leapt off the counter to land behind the bar. Relief rushed through him until he noticed that his shirt hadn’t made the trip along with him.
Sugar twirled his shirt around her head and continued dancing to the music. The clubgoers went wild, calling for him to get back on the bar while several female partiers called for Sugar to toss them his shirt. His brothers laughed along with the rest of them.
He hurried to the end of the bar and pushed his way through the throng so he could head toward the back. Ladies followed him down the hallway with catcalls and whistles until he made it to the back office, opened the door, then slammed it behind him.
He twisted the lock and leaned against the desk, gathering his wits and sucking in air. He was sure that if he’d gone any slower the women would’ve eaten him alive. “Damn. How do those girls do that every night?”
* * * *
“Can you please take me to the ranch, Joe?” She was glad someone else would do the driving. The drink had her seeing strange things. How else could she have imagined a man having fangs? But maybe even worse than that, the drink had made her reach out and squeeze his butt. She’d never been so mortified and thrilled all at the same time.
But, oh my, what a great butt it was.
“Will do, miss.”
He’d stood out among all the strong, virile men, but it was more than his good looks that had caught her eye. She’d felt something between them, an invisible presence that overshadowed the fact that they didn’t know each other and, more, made her dismiss it, too. The presence connected them, physically, emotionally, even sexually, as though her body and heart recognized him as someone she had to have in her life even if her mind didn’t.
Was that why I reached out and squeezed his ass?
She had to admit, however, that although the bond between them may have started her reaction, she’d also wanted to grope him because he was one hot piece of ass. She glanced at Joe, watched the image of his head blur, then leaned her head against the window.
The usually talkative Joe remained silent on the drive, and, before she knew it, he’d pulled up to the wide wrought-iron gates of the ranch’s entrance. More wrought iron formed an arch over the gates with the name of the ranch, Windy Hills, in the center. Joe punched in the code that made the two gates swing wide open. They eased shut again as they drove down the long driveway toward the large two-story home nestled in the valley. She scanned the white house that was the only place she’d ever really called home, then the man-made lake behind it. As it always did, the sight of the home that her mother had loved soothed her, giving her a true sense of peace. Joe pulled the car up to the front door.
“We’re here, miss. Will you be staying, or will you need my services further?”
She smiled, knowing he’d given added meaning to the question. “I’m staying. Could you swing by tomorrow around midmorning? Thanks, Joe.”
“Well, I would like to get home. That is, if you’re sure.” He caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “My youngest niece is having a party to celebrate her engagement.”
“Milly’s getting engaged? That’s wonderful.” At least other people’s lives weren’t getting turned upside down. She’d only met Milly once, but she knew his sister’s children were very special to him. “Joe, can I ask? Why didn’t you ever get married? I mean, you’re a good-looking, nice guy. I can’t believe some woman hasn’t gotten her claws into you by now.”
He put his arm on the back of the seat and twisted around to study her. “One woman did, but it didn’t work out.”
She shouldn’t ask him more personal questions, but she couldn’t resist. Why hadn’t she gotten to know Joe better before now? “Oh, I’m sorry. So she just wasn’t into you that much?”
Sheesh. What a way to put it. Miss Sensitivity here.
Joe chuckled. “No, she was. Unfortunately, she was already married.”
“Oh.” Now she wished she’d kept her mouth shut and her questions to herself. “That sucks.”
The twinkle in his eye that had disappeared at her first question reappeared. “Yeah, it sucked. But that was a long time ago. She’s passed away now, but I treasure every minute I had with her.”
“So you and she had an affair?”
She winced. Okay, no more Long Island Iced Teas for me.
“No. Not in the way you mean. She was too honorable for that.”
“And you respected her too much to make her do it anyway?” She groaned. “I am so sorry, Joe. This is none of my business.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He stared at her intently. “But let me give you a word of caution, if you don’t mind.”
Keep my big mouth shut, right? “Of course. Please.”
His dark eyes lightened with tiny bits of amber.
Again with the eyes? I’m not just forsaking Long Island Iced Teas any longer. I’m giving up all kinds of alcohol.
“When you find love, don’t worry about the body it comes in. Love is too hard to find. Grab it and hang on for all you’re worth. And hope you find it before it’s too late.”
The pain he still felt for his lost love was unmistakable. Heather sighed. “Well, at least you fell in love. Not all of us get that much.”
He gave her that soft smile he always had at the ready whenever she was down in the dumps. “Don’t worry. Fate has a way of bringing people together.”
“I hope so, but I’m not holding my breath.” She shook off the depressed feeling sinking into her stomach. “But never mind me. You go on and get to your niece’s party. Give her my best, okay? And, please, let me know where she’s registered.”
“I sure will. Thank you.” He hopped out of the driver’s side and hurried around to open the door for her even though she’d told him enough times that he didn’t need to go to the trouble.
She slid out of the car and touched his arm by way of saying thanks, then strode up the stairs toward the wide front door. Her mother had loved the color red and believed the color was perfect on the pristine white house. Digging into her purse, she found the key and opened the door. She turned back to Joe, knowing that he wouldn’t leave until she’d made it safely inside. He returned her wave as she closed the door.
Heather leaned her back against the door. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d come out to the house since she’d moved back. The house and its comfortable furnishings looked like they’d fallen out of the pages of Architectural Digest, but the home had a cozy feeling that was due to her mother’s loving touch. She moved through the house, turning on lights, lowering the air conditioner,
and then checking to see what was in stock in the pantry. The pantry was full, but the refrigerator was low on staples like milk, eggs, and cheese. Staying at the house meant cooking lots of grilled cheese sandwiches just like her mother had made.
Thirty minutes later, she’d cooked her sandwich, making one hell of a mess, downed a glass of ice water, and gotten into her pajamas. Thankfully, she’d left clothes at the ranch for those times when she needed to visit her mother’s grave and bring the world back into focus. The ranch was the only place she was able to do that.
Curling up on the huge window seat that looked out over the lake, she let her mind wander. What would it have been like if her mother had lived? Would her dad still have changed, going from the loving and attentive father he’d been when she was a child to the bitter, controlling man he was today? Maybe he wouldn’t have become as wealthy or as feared as he was, but she had no doubt that he would’ve been happier. Losing his wife had broken a part deep inside him that she was powerless to repair.
Heather wiped away a tear and laid her head on the cushions lining the seat. How much longer could she come out to the ranch? Her father wanted the ranch up for sale as soon as possible. She knew it without opening the e-mail from Abrams that was probably waiting in her inbox.
She yawned and thought about going to her bedroom, but her body refused to move. Instead, she closed her eyes and dreamed about the man called Banning.
* * * *
She fought against the light, wanting to stay asleep. But it was a losing battle, and soon the light grew warmer, pushing her out of her dream world. Groaning, she stretched and opened her eyes then quickly covered them as the sunshine blinded her. She lifted her hand to shield herself from the brightness of the sun high in the sky and shifted to place her back to the window and the torturous glare. Unlike the sun, she couldn’t hide from her body. Why did she hurt so much?