Fated Mates: The Alpha Shifter Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle) (Insatiable Reads)

by Hunter, Adriana

  “Got the paperwork to prove that?” Portia sneered.

  The sheriff turned to Portia and fixed her with a cold gaze. “I just spoke to you about this.”

  “You can’t reassign me. My aunt won’t let you,” Portia’s eyes blazed with anger.

  “Your aunt doesn’t run this department. I do. Last chance, Portia. Now go sit down immediately.” The sheriff’s eyes turned amber, and Ginger shivered involuntarily. He was going all Alpha on Portia, and he was a damned scary sight when he did that.

  Portia turned stiffly and walked back to her desk.

  “Forget about her,” Lola whispered.

  Ginger winced. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

  As she walked back to the filing room, she saw another werewolf watching her with a frown. He was a handsome, broad-shouldered man who was almost as muscular as Sheriff Armstrong. Loch walked over to her and introduced her to him.

  “Ginger, this is Jax Mackenzie, my lieutenant. Jax, this is our special guest. You’ve heard all about her.”

  “Sure did.” He flashed a brief smile at that, and Ginger almost snickered, but sobered up quickly as she remembered how much trouble her little gaffe had caused. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, and he nodded at her with no expression on his face, and went back to the case file he’d been studying.

  “He doesn’t like me, does he?” Ginger asked in a low voice as the sheriff walked back to the file room with her.

  “He doesn’t like anybody. Don’t take it personally.”

  Ginger forced a smile, and glanced back at Portia, who was staring at her with eyes like daggers. When Portia saw her looking, she scowled and her gaze immediately dropped to her desk.

  It’s going to be a long damned two weeks, Ginger thought, stepping into the file room and shutting the door firmly behind her.

  Chapter Six

  “Marigold, you’ve got a visitor. And a handsome one, at that.” Imogen’s creaky voice drifted into the sitting room, where Marigold, Ginger, and most of the half dozen students from the archeology group were playing spades.

  Brenda and the professor were nowhere in sight. Tallulah’s gaze kept snapping up every time they heard a noise in the hallway, and then when the professor failed to reappear, her face would fall and she’d turn back to the card game.

  They all looked up as the bartender from the Hoot Owl walked into the room. He wore jeans and motorcycle boots and a t-shirt with a skull on it. If Ginger wasn’t trying to find off unwanted erotic thoughts about the sheriff, she’d have found him totally hot.

  “Hey, can I talk to you outside for a minute?” he asked Marigold.

  “Uhh…” she glanced at Ginger, startled.

  “Yes, she can!” Ginger called out.

  Marigold shot her an “I know where you sleep” look, stood up, and gestured at Ginger to come with her. They walked outside, standing in front of the boarding house.

  A warm wind ruffled the branches of the trees, and a chorus of crickets creaked in the background. The stars were like hard bright diamonds set in a cloudless, black velvet sky. Ginger couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at the sky when she was in the city.

  “You left before I got a chance to ask you out last night,” the bartender said. “My name’s Henry, by the way.”

  He stuck out his hand and Marigold shook it.

  “Sorry, I ah…”

  “It’s my fault she left. That whole thing with the sheriff,” Ginger said. “The temperature in the room suddenly dropped 50 degrees and it seemed safest to head for the hills.”

  “Oh yeah.” He chuckled. “That was classic. I don’t think a woman’s ever turned him down before. It was beautiful.” Then his face grew serious. “Don’t tell him I said that. Please. Seriously. Don’t.”

  “I won’t,” Ginger promised.

  He turned to Marigold. “So – dinner tomorrow night? I could pick you up around six?”

  “Uhh, well – the thing is-“

  “The thing is, she’d love to!” Ginger jumped in.

  “Great!” Henry’s face lit up in a smile. Then he stood there awkwardly for a minute while Margiold flashed a pained, polite smile. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. I’ll let you get back to your card game.”

  Marigold waited until he left to turn on Ginger with a scowl. “What the heck? There’s a reason I left without talking to him last night. I already looked into our future. I saw me going back to New York by myself. And crying.”

  “You know what? You really need to stop looking into your own love future. It’s ruining your love life.”

  “Or saving it,” Marigold grumbled. “Wouldn’t you have wanted to know what was going to happen with Sir Douche A Lot, back in New York?”

  “I don’t know. Not necessarily. Yeah, it sucked, but you can’t live your whole life in fear of making a mistake. Maybe you need to have the life experiences that you’re meant to have, even the bad ones, so you can become the person that you’re meant to be.”

  “What? That was so convoluted, you almost sounded like Winifred just now. Could you please make sense?”

  “Just freaking go out on a date with him. Just this one date, and then I won’t nag you any more.”

  “Fine. If you go out on a date with Sheriff Sexy Ass, I will go out on a date with Henry.”

  “He hasn’t asked me,” Ginger said. “And he’s not going to.” She was pretty sure, anyway. For all his flirting, at the end of the day, he’d just dropped her off at the boarding house with a wink and a good night wave.

  She had a feeling he flirted as a natural reflex, like breathing.

  “Yes, he will. And no, I didn’t look into your future, I can just tell. Promise me that when he asks you out, not if, you will say yes. And I’ll go out on a date with Henry.”

  “All right then, I will,” Ginger said. Ha. That was an easy promise. The sheriff would ask her out when pigs fly.

  Ginger woke up early the next morning so she’d have time to shower, get dressed, and be ready when the sheriff came for her at 8. No way was he catching her in her pajamas again.

  She tried on half a dozen outfits, finally settling on a pink shirt and pink floral skirt.

  Staring in the mirror, she tugged at the neckline of her scoop neck shirt. Too much cleavage? Too little? One of the advantages of being a larger woman was having big breasts. Then again, she didn’t want to look like a floozy. She yanked the neckline back up.

  Did the sheriff like big breasts? She wondered. Not that it mattered, of course.

  Ashmont had not been fond of any display of her cleavage. He was easily embarrassed, and before he took her out anywhere he’d spend half an hour fussing at her clothes, yanking them around, readjusting them, picking out different accessories for her.

  At the time, she’d told herself that she was lucky she’d found a straight man who actually cared about fashion.

  Now that they’d split up she had to admit to herself that his fashion advice was always laced with subtle insults. He was constantly telling her to dress to hide her figure. “Wear this sash to make it look like you’ve got a waistline,” he’d say.

  “Of course he’ll choose me. Ever heard of the Madonna Whore complex? Men have sex with sluts, but they marry virgins,” Tallulah’s smug voice drifted down the hall.

  Ginger groaned and wished there was another way down to the dining room. She shut her door behind her, rounded the corner and walked down the stairs, where Tallulah and Brenda were standing locked in a heated argument. They both swung around as she walked towards them.

  “Who do you think a man would want to marry? Some loose-coochie hoe bag or a virtuous soul-mate who’s saving herself for marriage?” Tallulah demanded.

  “Bitch, what did you call me?” Rage flared on Brenda’s face and she gave Tallulah a hard shove. Tallulah let out a shriek and stumbled backwards, and Ginger barely had time to grab her before she fell.

  “You’re not just a skank, you’re a crazy skank! I�
�m telling Professor Reese!” Tallulah screamed, hiding behind Ginger as Ginger quickly herded her down the stairs.

  “Go ahead! I’ll tell him what you called me!” Brenda yelled back.

  “He already knows about your loose coochie, you slut!”

  Ginger stopped and threw her arms out between the two of them and yelled, in her best school-marm voice, “Stop it immediately and act your age or there will be consequences!”

  They both settled down, shooting each other venomous glares and muttering under their breath.

  “Both of you are risking getting thrown out of school, do you realize that? And if anyone thought that Professor Reese was romantically involved with any of his students, which I’m sure he’s not, he could be suspended from the university. Or fired. Is that what you want?’

  Both of them hung their heads and muttered sullen “No’s” as they marched into the dining room. Professor Reese was already there, digging into a cheese omelet.

  “So, how is our newest sheriff’s deputy?” Professor Reese asked cheerfully, as Tallulah took a seat on one side of him and Brenda sat down on the other side. He seemed completely unaware of all the tension that he was causing.

  Winifred watched both of them with a quizzical expression on her face. Ginger imagined that she was probably composing a thesis proposal based on their behavior.

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Pass me the butter, will you, my dear?” said the professor. The butter was a foot away from him, Ginger thought with exasperation, but she reached for it. “I’ll do it!” Tallulah said hastily, and leaped up, reached over the table, grabbed the butter, and set it in front him.

  “Thank you, angel.” He beamed at her approvingly, and Brenda rolled her eyes and made a gagging motion.

  Tallulah practically glowed at the compliment.

  “By the way, you look very nice. I see you’ve finally started taking my advice and you’re putting on some makeup. Just in time for your ridealong,” Marigold said smugly. “I look forward to hearing all the details of your hot date.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, he doesn’t like me in that way? And the feeling’s mutual. He’s bossy and smug.”

  “If he didn’t like you in that way, he wouldn’t have you riding along in his car with him all day long; he’d stick you in the office doing paperwork and answering phones. As for his personality, when he was waiting for you to get ready yesterday he was absolutely charming. I think you’re the one with personality issues.”

  “You know, a lapful of hot coffee would severely cramp your style with the local boys,” Ginger said threateningly, nudging her mug with her elbow. “It would leave blisters.”

  “I ain’t a-scaired of you,” Marigold said, but she scooted her chair away so she was out of Ginger’s reach.

  “So are things going well on the dig?” Ginger asked the professor. “The sheriff mentioned that the Panther Nation have been giving you some grief.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true,” the professor nodded. “But we’re not going to let them scare us off. Are we, girls?” He beamed at his students.

  They all shook their heads fervently, staring at him with adoring eyes.

  “Why do they think that you’re after their artifacts?”

  “Oh, just paranoia and suspicion of outsiders.” He waved his hand dismissively. “They’re trying to claim we’re here to steal their tribal artifacts, but we’re not. We’re working a very promising fossil bed from the paleolithic area. We’ve found mastodon bones and teeth. We’ve very clearly demonstrated the legitimacy of our dig.” He shrugged, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  The floorboards creaked as the new handyman walked in. Ginger saw Marigold’s eyes flick appreciatively at him. He was a good looking specimen. A panther shifter, he was muscular and had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and he wore tight jeans and a tank top. He carried a tool box with him.

  “Everything okay in here, folks?” he asked. “I just need to measure these windows so I can put in new frames, if it’s not a bother.”

  “That is a fascinating regional dialect,” Winifred said. “Is your original pack domicile located in regions Northwest of here?”

  “Uhhhh….” He stared at her, baffled.

  “She’s saying she loves your accent and asking where you from,” Marigold jumped in helpfully.

  “Oh! Thank you, ma’am. My folks hail from Alabama,” he nodded politely and walked to the end of the room with his toolbox. Winifred’s gaze briefly followed him and then she quickly turned back to her plate of eggs. Ginger thought that Winifred

  A car horn blared out front, making Ginger jump.

  “Lover boy’s here!” Marigold trilled.

  “Watch yourself, or I swear I’ll…I swear I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?”

  “I’ll make empty threats of violent retribution which I have no intention of actually carrying out,” Ginger snapped.

  “Yeah, I thought so. Enjoy. Especially when he asks you out on a date. And you’re not allowed to say no because you promised,” Marigold said smugly.

  When she got outside, the sheriff was standing outside the cruiser holding her door open for her. Ginger grudgingly had to admit that, even if the sheriff was the biggest flirt in Blue Moon County, at least he was a gentleman. She tried to remember if Ashmont had ever opened doors for her. Ashmont was big on women’s lib, which was usually nice, but every once in a while, a woman just wants to be treated like a lady, Ginger thought.

  “You look nice today,” Loch said, giving her an appreciative once-over.

  Ginger blushed. “Why, thank you,” she said. “Just something I threw on.” After half a dozen outfit changes. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “This morning we’ll just cruise around town for a little while. I thought you might like to go for a run later. I could show you some of the sights.”

  “A run? In the woods?” Ginger asked, startled.

  He gave her that smile again, the slow, amused curl of his lips that made her heart beat faster and heat pool between her legs. That smile should be registered as a lethal weapon, she thought. It was just unfair.

  “That’s where we usually do it out here. We can run through the center of town, if you want.”

  “You mean, like, a run…without our clothes on?” a blush crept over her cheek and up her throat.

  “Well, darlin’, I’ve never shifted and run in my clothes. Have you?”

  “Er, no. But I’m a little self-conscious about my body,” she muttered. A little? A little didn’t even begin to cover it.

  He glanced at her, his gaze running slowly up and down her body like a warm caress, and she quickly crossed her arms over her chest to cover the hardening of her nipples.

  “Why? You’re blessed, the way I see it.”

  She’d never seen it as a blessing. The constant stares and questions had started in kindergarten and had never let up. “My, you’re quite…unusual looking for a werewolf.”

  She had to admit, though, the appreciative stares she’d gotten from men ever since she’d arrived in Blue Moon Junction were quite gratifying.

  Before he could pursue the topic of going for a run any more, his cell phone jangled in his pocket and he pulled it out.

  “Hello, grandmother. Right now? You sure you need my help right now? Maybe I could send over one of the boys instead? All right, fine, I’ll come over.”

  He sighed. “We’re taking a brief detour over to my grandmother’s house. Hope you don’t mind. “

  “Of course not,” she said with a smile. Especially because, if his family was anything like hers, there was major potential for watching his grandmother embarrass the heck out of him. Ginger was supposed to behave herself around the sheriff, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t live vicariously.

  His grandmother lived on the outskirts of town, in an old red farmhouse with an iron rooster weathervane on the roof.

  She was wai
ting for them on the front porch when they pulled up. She waved at them as they walked up her driveway, beaming at Ginger. She was short and chubby and her hair was piled high in a bun on top of her head.

  “Well, hello, hello!” she smiled, and held out her hand to shake Ginger’s hand. “I’m Wilhelmina, but my friends call me Willie. Do come in, I’ve made iced tea.”

  “I thought you said the fence needed mending.” The sheriff shot a narrow-eyed look at his grandmother. “You said all the horses were going to get out and run into the road.”

  “Oh, it was just one fence post was leaning over a little bit. I pushed it back up. Iced tea’s on the kitchen table. Don’t be rude to your guest, now.”

  “Grandmother….” Loch said, shooting his grandmother an indignant look as they trooped inside.

  “Yes? By the way, she’s every bit as pretty as everybody’s been saying.” Willie’s voice sank to a whisper. “She’s got childbearing hips. I approve.”

  “Grandmother! Seriously! I will turn around and leave right now.”

  Ginger was delighted to see a stain of red on those broad, high cheekbones. The sheriff was actually blushing.

  The sheriff, usually so self-assured and in control, was utterly mortified by his grandmother, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

  The kitchen was decorated with pictures of wolves of all ages. There was a long wooden table in the center of the room. Willie had set out sweet tea in mason jars topped with sprigs of mint, along with plates piled high with meltingly sweet chocolate brownies.

  “This tea is delicious. I’ve never tasted anything like it,” Ginger said.

  “Ancient family recipe. Of course, if you were going to settle down here, I’d share it with you.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my grandmother,” the sheriff said, shooting Wilhelmina a warning look, which she ignored as she poured more tea for Ginger. “She’s becoming extremely senile.”

  “Nonsense. How are your brownies, dear?”

  “Incredibly delicious,” Ginger grinned. This trip had turned out to be an unexpected treat. The sheriff had been making her squirm for days now; it was fun to see the tables turned.