The Agent Gets Her Wolves [The Shifters of Catamount, Texas 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Josie Hunter

  Now here she was. In the flesh. It was great to be wanted.

  “Do something for you, ma’am?”

  “For starters, you can stop calling me ma’am.”

  He stopped the smile before it could spread over his face. He liked a woman with spunk, and from everything he’d heard about Agent Cooper, she had enough for half the town. “You’re not a member here. How’d you talk Redwolf into letting you in?”

  She tilted her head. “How do you know I’m not a member?”

  This time he couldn’t stop his reaction. The laugh burst out of him, causing a frown to tug at her lips.

  He ran a cloth across the pristine bar top then slapped it across his shoulder. Her eyes darted toward the movement. Always on alert. “I can assure you I know all the members. So, ma’am, unless you just joined in the last two minutes—”

  “I’m looking for the manager. Jake Westin.” Her gaze ran over his face and down his chest encased in a tight black T-shirt, obviously dismissing him as possible management material.

  “I know him,” Jake said.

  “Tell him I’m here. I have an appointment with him.” Her prickly interior made a sudden appearance as a flash of impatience crossed her face.

  “Huh.” He rested his elbows on the bar and leaned a bit closer to her. “I generally know Jake’s schedule pretty well. Are you a new distributor? Out hawking a new product? We generally don’t allow women to solicit.” He let his gaze roam slowly across her breasts. “No matter what kind it is.”

  Her jaw clenched, and her eyes flashed. “What exactly are you implying?”

  “That tight dress, those pretty shoes, and your hair all wavy and…” He made the sign of a curlicue in the air. “You’re a tempting little thing, but Clandestine isn’t that sort of place.”

  “Oh, just stop it,” she snapped, slapping her hand on the bar. “I intend to report you to management. You’re a vile, disgusting—”

  “Before you say something you’ll regret, Agent Cooper”—he held out his hand— “I’m Jake Westin.”

  She drew back and blinked, going from pissed-off to confused in record time. Her gaze darted left to right as though he must be joking and she expected the real Jake Westin to come out of hiding from behind one of the liquor shelves.

  “Oh,” she said, holding out her hand. She rose on tiptoe and leaned over the bar. “Hello, Mr. Westin.”

  His hand completely enveloped hers, which was warm and soft and had a row of bitten nails. Agent Cooper needed to learn to relax. He practically felt the vibrations of stress running through her body. He held her hand longer than he should have, and for some reason, he couldn’t help thinking he’d love to be the one to help her with all the high-strung energy coursing through her. Her scent drew him even closer. It was irresistible. Had he known how she’d smell, how she’d affect him, he’d have tried to get into her personal space a lot earlier than this. He’d wasted some valuable time.

  She tugged her hand from his and took a step back.

  “We didn’t get off on the right foot. I realized I handled the interview poorly, Mr. Westin.”

  “It’s Jake,” he said.

  “Jake then,” she said with a smile. “I came hoping to change your mind.”

  “And you’ve managed to do that.”

  “I have?” Her voice came out in a tiny squeak, and her eyes widened.

  “You have.” He loved her willingness to acknowledge a mistake. He had a feeling she was the kind of woman who rarely made strategic mistakes but probably made them with people in spades. He looked forward to watching her make mistakes all over the place. “When do you want me there?”

  She blinked behind her glasses. “On Monday?” She cleared her throat. “I’d like to start with a staff meeting.”

  “Sounds great.”

  She glanced around the bar area. “Do you have to give notice?”

  He shook his head with a smile. “Nope. All taken care of.”

  Tyler Lucas had called him several weeks before and personally asked him to be part of the task force. He’d already arranged for Redwolf to take over some of his managerial duties, and several of the other bartenders were more than willing to take on more hours. He’d just been waiting for Agent Cooper to make her move, but he’d wanted her to work for it. He appreciated both her determination and her willingness to go the extra mile with that dynamite dress.

  “Then that works perfectly,” Stephanie said. “Our office is located near Lucas Park on Sandalwood Street. The—”

  “I know where it is.”

  “Great!” she said with a smile. “Then I guess I’ll just see you on Monday.”

  She stuck out her hand, all professional now that she’d gotten her own way. He took it, once again enjoying her warmth and scent. He thought getting to know Stephanie Cooper a bit better might be in the cards. She turned and started across the floor, her hips swaying nicely beneath the dress, her legs pale in the dark interior. She whirled around before she turned the corner, pirouetting on her tiptoe.

  “Do you know anything about real estate, Jake?”

  Jake laughed. “Only that it involves real estate.”

  “That should be plenty.” She laughed then pirouetted again and disappeared around the corner.

  * * * *

  Stephanie stepped out into the heat of the day and the grueling blaze of the sun, but it felt like an autumn day in New England after her body’s reaction to Jake Westin. She fanned her hand across her face, wanting nothing more than to hurry the evaporation of the sweat dotting her skin. The new clothes had done something to her. Her old self was pushing at the barricades she’d erected several years before. The wolf at the door had smelled her arousal, and she’d been surprised by her damp panties. She could practically feel the pheromones running roughshod through her body, making her nipples tighten, her pussy clench, and her clit tingle. All of it made her feel less than in control. God, she hated thinking about body parts. She especially hated thinking about her own. Allowing those sorts of thoughts always got her in trouble. The thong was reminding her of the woman she used to be with each step she took, and that woman needed to stay buried. She was nothing but trouble.

  She shook herself hard, knowing she must look like a dog after a swim, but she couldn’t help herself. Her entire body vibrated, and the fur beneath her skin was tickling her insides, making her all jittery and antsy. She ran her hands over the nape of her neck, feeling goose bumps and sweat, then flipped the heavy mass of her hair away from her skin. She pulled the clip from her purse, gathered up the sticky strands, and rolled them into a loose knot.

  She started up Main Street, smiling and nodding to everyone she encountered but trying not to focus too hard on the faces, especially the men. Now that her little bunny was hopping under her skin, excited and twitchy, looking at a man wouldn’t be a good idea. She’d been completely caught off guard by all the incredible-looking men when she moved to Catamount. The problem with incredible-looking men was they played havoc with her composure and focus. She’d learned at the onset of puberty to avoid, turn off, hide from, or otherwise ignore all manner of handsome men. That’s why she loved working with Talon and Rusty. She could be herself, have fun, and never have to worry about getting all stirred up and losing her control.

  Stephanie Cooper did not lose control. At least she didn’t anymore.

  She’d had a close call coming into contact with Rosa Santos and her men back in July. All three of those incredible hunks had been in her personal space for quite some time, but knowing they belonged to Rosa had kept her under control.

  Now she would be forced to work side by side with an even better looking guy than Robb Jackson, and Robb Jackson was one gorgeous man. With his deep blue eyes and short black hair, not to mention that incredible body, Jake Westin was the hunkiest hunk of shifter or man she’d ever seen, and she had no idea how she would get any work done with such a distraction. Maybe there had been a woman on the list. That might have been a b
etter choice. She cursed herself for always wanting the best.

  She paused on the street. She needed to get a grip on her irrational thinking. The thong creeping between her butt cheeks and sliding over her pussy had made her think ridiculous thoughts. Her body was reacting. Her thong was more than damp now because arousal coursed through her body. She wished she could take it off right now in the middle of the street. What a bad decision this had been. The silky material sliding over her thighs, the lacy bra rubbing against her sensitive nipples, the feel of the satin-smooth panty sliding over her bare pussy, even the feel of tendrils of her hair brushing her skin…all of it seemed to be conspiring against her.

  “Stop it right now.” She took a deep breath, smiling as a passing woman gave her a strange look. She waited until the sound of the woman’s heels softened, and then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You are no longer that Stephanie Cooper. Clothes might make the man, but they do not make the woman.” Just hearing it aloud strengthened her resolve.

  She passed the windows to the Catamount Dance Company, waving to Rosa. She looked as beautiful and graceful as ever, instructing the group of women doing various stretches on the barres. Stephanie recognized the movements from her own ballet classes. She’d learned very quickly she didn’t have the patience for ballet, but she’d forced herself to continue years after high school because Claire—beautiful, graceful, perfect Claire—had excelled at ballet. Stephanie refused to allow her sister to out-perfect her at anything.

  Once again, thoughts of Claire had made her lose track of what she was doing. She’d stormed up three blocks of Main Street. She was all irritated and heated up now, but thankfully in a completely different way from what Jake Westin had done to her. After picking up her purchases from Darlin’ Duds, she turned onto Sandalwood and sped up, eager to get back to the office now.

  Rusty was on the sidewalk, dressed in a gray jumpsuit, carefully painting letters onto the front window. The man possessed more talents than God. The lettering, written in a lovely font, looked beautiful, evenly spaced, and eye-catching. The trouble was the lettering said, Catamount Cottages and Condos.

  “Ugh, who made up that name?” Stephanie asked, dropping her shopping bags on the sidewalk.

  “I did,” Rusty said, his tall, lanky body twisting toward her like a scarecrow in the wind. The spikes of his red hair bobbed with his movement. “You told me to take care of it, and I did. So shut your trap.”

  “Lame name aside, you’ve done an awesome job on the lettering.”

  “Then my calligraphy minor came in handy,” he said drolly. He gave a low whistle as his gaze went down the length of her. “Look at you, Agent Cooper. Pretty dress. You look just like Catamount Barbie.”

  “Ha ha.”

  He leaned toward her and sniffed. “Why do you smell like sex?”

  Stephanie lurched backward. “I do not smell like sex.”

  “Yeah, you do,” he said simply. “Hey, I’m not complaining, but it’s kind of odd on you.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Rusty, you don’t need to be so nasty.”

  He narrowed his eyes. He sniffed again, his nose twitching. “I smell wet dog, too.” When she didn’t answer, he stared at her, his expression blank. “Definitely canine.” He ran the brush over one of the letters, fine-tuning perfection. “I thought that was a done deal.”

  “Think again.”

  “You went to see him…in person?” When she nodded, he pressed his lips together. “Look, I know you want Westin on the team, but you know I can’t stand most carnivores. I’ve learned to handle the cats around here, but I draw the line at the wolves.”

  “Not liking the attitude about wolves, Rusty,” she said, giving him a pointed stare.

  “Sorry about that. No offense. I keep forgetting—”

  “Just keep on forgetting. That’s all in the past, and a repeat visit isn’t welcome. Get over the hate because one will be joining the team on Monday.”

  “Fuck.” Rusty’s head fell backward and drops of black paint splattered from his brush onto the sidewalk.

  “Again with the attitude?”

  “It’s not again if it’s continuous, brainiac.”

  “You’ll get used to him.”

  “I hate fucking wolves, and you know that. I would think you, of all people, would understand after—”

  She held up her hand.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Keep forgetting.” Rusty dropped to the ground and dabbed at the black paint with a rag from his pocket.

  “Some wolves are very nice.”

  “Some wolves are very nice,’” he mimicked. “I’ve never heard those words out of your mouth about anything, let alone when the topic is wolves.” He gave her a dopey smile, and on Rusty, a smile like that looked downright scary. “Ah, are you in love? This newfound acceptance must have something to do with that new-sex smell.”

  “Shut up, Rusty.” She grabbed the handles of her shopping bags in one hand and yanked open the door with the other. It closed slowly behind her. She whirled around just in time to see Rusty give her the finger through the plate-glass window.

  She returned the gesture with a smile then decided to order a steak sandwich for lunch just to annoy him.

  Chapter 3

  The little white Cape Cod home with the black shutters looked cozy among the tall trees as she pulled into the driveway. The house had been a very good deal, and she’d deliberately chosen the style to remind her of home. She still missed Boston and wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being in Texas. It felt like an alien planet to her, filled with foreign landscapes and unusual personalities. But Catamount was to be her home for the near future, and she’d been determined to make it a real home.

  When she’d decided to buy, she’d discovered there was only one real estate agency in town, which is what prompted her to use real estate as a cover. Granted, the vast majority of citizens in Catamount knew her agency was mostly a front, but she was sure if anyone were actually trying to buy a house—either citizen or newcomer—they might appreciate a choice. All joking aside, one of the team needed to get a license just in case that happened. The alpha had approved her plan, and now that she had Jake Westin on board, she could swing into full action.

  She grabbed her shopping bags, got out of the SUV, and began the walk up the winding path through the dark shadows of the flowerbeds. Pools of muted light spilled from the front windows, and Stephanie could see a shadow moving back and forth through the shades. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. As she stepped into the foyer, she stumbled on something and nearly fell over a huge cardboard box.

  She glanced to the left where she’d seen the shadow moving. The area slated to be a dining room was filled with more boxes, lamps, and two TVs.

  “Mom!”

  Her mother’s voice drifted down the hallway. “In the kitchen, honey.”

  She dropped her bags and purse on the foyer floor and made her way toward the kitchen, following the tantalizing smell of tomato sauce. As she entered the room, she grabbed a slice of cucumber from the bowl on the counter. Her mother poked at something in the oven.

  At fifty-four, her mother was still a petite, beautiful woman. Even the bit of extra weight around her midriff couldn’t detract from her friendly brown eyes, the luxurious fall of blonde hair, or her overall appearance. If anything, she looked even more maternal, and if motherhood had a name, it would be Janet Cooper. Stephanie had seen a glimpse of the pan of lasagna in the oven, had already eaten from the bowl of fresh salad on the island, and couldn’t wait to dig into the plate of brownies sitting on the counter. A vase filled with fresh flowers sat on the table in the small nook overlooking the woods in the back. Her mother had worked so hard to make this a home in the last week, even though Stephanie had spent little to no time in it.

  “I see the movers came today.” Stephanie picked at a brownie, dropping the tiny piece into her mouth. “How did that go?”

  “Pretty okay. They helped me set up the beds,
so sleeping should be a lot better now.”

  “I should have kept the apartment until we were more settled in the house.”

  “No need for that. We managed fine.” She closed the oven door, turned around, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, Stephanie, you look lovely.”

  Stephanie glanced down, remembering she was still dressed like Catamount Barbie. “This? Well, it’s part of the job, I guess. At least that’s what they tell me.”

  Her mother came around the island, her curious gaze studying every inch of Stephanie through tortoise-shell glasses. “I’ve been waiting for you to realize there was no reason to hide under all that black.”

  “I wasn’t hiding, Mom.”

  “You were, honey.” She held her by the shoulders. “But now I have my old Stephanie back.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good thing,” Stephanie muttered. “You do remember the old Stephanie, right?”

  “Of course I do, and I’ve missed her.” Her mother hustled to the other side of the room and began to set the table. “So…any chance you talked with Claire today?”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Um, no. I didn’t talk to her today or yesterday or in the last few weeks or—”

  “I get it,” her mother said, setting the last of the silverware. “Don’t be a smart-ass.” She turned and glanced at her over the rim of her glasses. “It’s not becoming on people like us.”

  Of course “people like us” meant rabbit-shifters, so cute, so cuddly, so sweet.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said, like the dutiful daughter she should be.

  Her mother leaned back against the counter. “She’ll come around, honey.”

  Stephanie snorted. “In what century? It sure as hell isn’t going to be this one.”