by Louisa Bacio
He slumped his shoulders with a sigh. “You are one handful. I feel sorry for whatever wolf eventually wins your heart. As they say, opposites attract. Maybe you’ll find someone levelheaded with patience.”
“As if. I’m not looking for a mate anytime soon.”
***
Yas shifted the weight of his hiking pack. For the past mile, it had been rubbing on his lower back, and the repetition chafed a raw mark on his skin. Up ahead lay the outskirts of the town. As much as his mother had talked about it over the years, Los Lobos had taken on mythic proportions. He’d been young when his mother fled. The chaos of the old regime made her fear for their safety. Since the old crazy pack leader Magnum Tao had died, and his son Drew had taken over, there was talk that it was a better environment.
For a male Wolf coming into his own season, each shift varied. Yas avoided thinking about the way his hormones flared when the full moon came out. The few days beforehand, he was about useless. It got to the point where he couldn’t be around women—she-wolf or human—or else he’d rip their clothes off and want to plow into them.
His last girlfriend didn’t appreciate the overzealous lovemaking. He never took her against her will. She was more than willing to sleep with him, and they had on numerous occasions beforehand. When that time struck, she said it seemed he was elsewhere—doing her physically but not really being there mentally. Like he was fantasizing about someone else. Truth be told, it wasn’t some celebrity actress or pop star grinding her way through his mind. He’d been thinking about running in the wild, with the scent of the forest surrounding him and the clear open sky above. When he found a mate, they’d lay together in the grass, getting wet in the nighttime dew, soft mud cushioning their bodies. He stopped to adjust himself. Just thinking about the possibilities got him off.
Nope, the ex didn’t appreciate his mental wanderings at all. So maybe the woman in his fantasies didn’t resemble his former girlfriend. Instead of being blonde and fair-skinned like him, her darker skin shone under the moonlight, and he couldn’t figure out what was the more black—her eyes or her hair.
The caw-caw-caw of a bluebird broke through the silence. What he’d give to crash in a cool, air-conditioned restaurant and take a load off. His white ass didn’t appreciate the hot temps, and the sunscreen he’d put on made him sticky. He rounded the bend to the oasis of the small hidden town. He pushed past Gee’s Bar and the convenience store. If he stopped now, he probably wouldn’t make it to his destination until the sun went down. The Wolf he’d run into at the last watering hole filled him in on the changes in town, and directed him to a new place in town accepting boarders. He was promised better food and quieter quarters than Gee’s Bar.
Taking a slug from his canteen, he swore to return to the bar for refreshments later and continued on. Dust coated his hiking boots, and a few new rips from slips and falls marred his jeans. Hopefully, the proprietor of the bed-and-breakfast wouldn’t be so picky about renters because he’d not make a good first impression.
The road curved upward, taking a jarring left-hand turn before careening off into the forest. Although he’d been hiking through it, he stood for a moment, enjoying the tranquility and fresh air. No chain coffee shops or fast food drive-thrus in sight. People said things were not the same as they used to be. He bet none of them had even heard of Los Lobos.
A pounding drew his attention. Before he discerned where it originated, he was given another clue.
“Dammit. You son of a bitch!” A woman with hips and curves aplenty hopped about in front of a makeshift flagpole. One hand swung a hammer, and she stuck the thumb of the other one into her mouth. He recognized the feeling. Sometimes with unexpected pain—like hitting one’s thumb with a hammer—the cursing and walking in circles made him feel better. He’d actually read a study that said males who cursed and became physical tended to get over it faster than others.
“Need any help there?” he called out.
She turned toward his voice, and he sucked in a breath at her beauty. Sharp black-onyx eyes sparkled in frustration, and her red mouth stretched taught in a frown. One slash of bright blue streaked through her straight hair as black as a raven’s wing.
“Don’t need any help.” She sized him up, from his muddy boots to his torn jeans and back to his face, which he knew had to be red and splotchy. “Especially help from a stranger.”
Hefting the hammer with one hand, she held up the sign with the other. She swung at the nail, only to hit it at an angle and bend it.
“For crying out loud, can’t I catch a break?” She tossed the hammer to the ground, bull’s-eyeing two flowers that appeared to have recently been planted. Colored petals rained on the tilled dirt. “Great, just great.”
Yas set down his pack, and he sighed with relief. If this woman was the proprietor of the bed-and-breakfast, he hoped to win over her approval. His appearance wasn’t going to do it for him, and he wasn’t carrying too much money. He didn’t have a college savings account he could cash out and travel. His game plan was to work for his room and board.
With a watch on her movements, he picked up the hammer and used the claw end to remove the bent nail. “Do you have more nails?”
She eyed him and glanced at the house, as if judging how fast she could get to it if needed. “We don’t get many strangers. What brings you to these parts?”
He smiled and hoped it didn’t appear creepy or threatening. “My ma’s from Los Lobos. Came to check out my roots. I’m looking for a place to stay for a few days.”
The sign she’d been trying to hang read The Wolf’s Lair B&B.
“Humpf.” She dug into the front pocket of her coveralls and handed over a box of nails. “Hang that sign right, and I might be able to help you there.”
The feeling of unease trapped in his chest dissipated. He stuck a few nails between his front teeth to hold them, and rammed in the ones holding up the signage. She handed over a second red piece of wood, Vacancy, which he hung off the bottom.
“Imagine that, a man who can use tools. I could have done it myself.”
Warning signs flagged. He’d grown up with a single mother and younger sister, Sugar. Both fought often for their independence and got angry when he was able to open a jar they couldn’t. His mom had never remarried, although she dated some. He figured she never wanted to lose control of her life. She’d run once, and that was enough.
“I don’t doubt it,” he said. “Still, I’m glad to have helped.”
From a rear pocket, she withdrew a piece of paper and unfolded it. “This here is the wanted sign I was going to put up at the convenience store. Something you can do?”
Carpenter/Construction
Work Exchanged for Room & Board
Remodel and Upgrading
Basic Handyman Duties
The gods were shining down on him. How did he walk into the situation he most fit perfectly? If she wanted someone with an accounting background, he’d be out of luck. A chef? Forget it. But construction?
“Sounds perfect.” He picked up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. “When does it start?”
Her eyes narrowed. He could tell she was weighing her options. “Right now, follow me. I’ll show you the home, and you can let me know if you’re up for the job.”