Game of Throbs Complete Series (Books 1-3)

by Piquette Fontaine

  “My pleasure. Oh, and Ridge?

  Ridge eyed the white-bearded man who kept reminding him of St. Nick.

  “Welcome to Smugglers’ Cove.”

  He paused before he got into his truck to drive to the B&B the bar owner mentioned.

  Chapter Six

  Ridge woke up on top of a duvet in a cold sweat.

  A brawl and a monstrous beast replayed in his mind as he pressed himself against a paisley covered wall. His mind unfogged as he remembered it wasn’t a dream.

  Seeing his room, the armoire and a vanity topped with a ceramic wash pan and a water pitcher, jolted him back to the present. The night before started after a beast of a drive. Ridge stood, sweating by the big brass bed.

  Beast.

  The old mining charm of Smugglers’ Cove didn’t make a big as an impression as much as its secrets and from what he’d seen so far, it had plenty.

  Ridge opened the double windows in the room wider and inhaled the sea air. He could just make out the coast from the third story window. He needed to find Griff.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Ridge unplugged his phone charger from an outlet. “Ring me when you get this.”

  He used the pitcher and bowl in the basin and was pleasantly surprised the room had running water. Aside from the old mining milieu, he wondered if the Cove was as modern as he’d been led to believe.

  He always slept nude and after getting some shuteye, he was feeling majorly chipper. Surprised too, to see that nearly all of the snow had melted, after the night pretty much had been freezing. The room he’d rented had a busted shower and when he’d called the front desk, he was promptly informed his was the last available room. Ridge noticed the cars that filled the streets from the window. “Visitors to the city,” the manager had said. Seemed everyone who heard the reports of a Big Foot terrorizing the coast had to come and see the locals firsthand.

  Terrific. Everyone was around except his big brother.

  Rubbing his hands with some liquid body wash that came with the room, Ridge worked it into a lather. He spread it over his chest and arms, using a towel to soap himself. The scent of the suds brought memories of the redhead in the slinky dress and big breasts who’d looked into his soul. He hadn’t felt that connected to someone since—rubbing the towel over his six-pack and across the trail of fur inching below his navel, he tried to remember when he’d last had a date.

  He’d grieved losing his wife-to-be so long, he knew he’d mostly forgotten what it was to feel alive.

  He certainly didn’t have to worry about it when he was in Smugglers’ Cove. Since he’d shown up he’d been nearly run off the road, thrown from his pickup into a ravine and made into a snack by what could have been the town’s ‘Sasquatch’.

  Not the mention a wolf, if that was what he’d run into last night.

  If he didn’t feel alive now, he probably never would.

  Ridge splashed cold water on his face and dry patted his body. Checking himself in the full-length mirror hanging on the armoire, he touched the scar forming and his right leg and tensed. Yeah, I’m alive.

  Here’s the bite that proves it. The marks had started to heal and he was glad the bar owner had looked at it since the city didn’t have a doc.

  Or a sheriff, according to Gus. He was a character. Ridge ran the towel through his shock of hair, the dark roots glinting in the haze of sunlight. He checked his temple. The bump had gone, but it was the lock of pale blond that got to him. The impact from the accident followed by the attack by the wolf after he had slipped into the ravine must have affected more than he’d thought.

  *****

  Blue paced in the hollow beside the mill. The Marsden’s place was nestled nearby. Enough to keep guard until the mistress returned.

  The pack laid quietly chatting amongst themselves, while Gold huffed they should be freed.

  “I know,” she thought to him. “I’m biding my time. I need her to complete the healing that can make me human again and make the rest of you full-fledged ‘wolven'.”

  Gold neared Blue. “You’re not like us, not like the legends, huh?”

  Blue shook her head. He meant the werewolves.

  Sharing their minds was something Blue had only recently learned to do. Transforming was difficult and she’d gotten the hang of it, but didn’t want her extended wolven clan to try. If any of them tried to force a telepathic connection, they could harm themselves.

  “I could be,” she said. “But, there’s someone else,” she said as Gold gazed at her.

  “Okay.” She noticed the saddened look on him.

  “That why you’re always giving me a hard time? Because you like me?”

  “Like? I don’t like you, I can’t even stand to be in the same forest with you,” she watched Gold rejoin their brothers and sisters. She saw him glancing at her while she pretended she didn’t notice.

  “I know,” Blue said softly, without thinking to him. “I like you, too.”

  The Mistress broke through the dense brush. She surmised the pack and looked at Gold’s paw. It was bruised, like the gums around his canines. They shared a glance and she shook her head. “Blue told you what I would do if you attacked with my permission.”

  Gold nodded slowly.

  “Come with me,” she said. The wolven surrounded them as he walked with the Mistress.

  “Mistress, no,” Blue crossed between them. “He’s rash, but he’s a fast learner, and loyal.”

  Their mistress smiled. “The rest of you keep an eye on my other pet, while the transformation reaches its peak.”

  Blue and Gold shared a brief exchange.

  “Do what she says. It’ll be fine.”

  “Sure,” Gold replied, and Blue’s heart sank.

  “Come, Gold. Or should I call you, Will?” He followed her as the pack whined softly, afraid for him.

  It was then, Blue realized she would do anything to keep Will and the other half-lings safe.

  Anything.

  Chapter Seven

  Ridge dialed Griff and waited. ‘The voice mailbox for the number you are calling is full. Please try again later.’

  Damn.

  Where was his big bro, and why didn’t anyone around seem to know anything?

  Ridge tried the sheriff’s office and found there really wasn’t any law enforcement. There was a secretary, but the best she could do was point him back in the direction of the diner next to the B&B. “The best around,” she’d said.

  The longer he hung around here, the more uneasy he felt. He’d thought about going down to the Cove. He always could figure out things better when he was near the water.

  However, the heat of the sun evaporated most of the tension that had started to come back while he walked to the restaurant. He’d taken his car to a second mechanic after the first one he met said he didn’t have a gauge. The next dude did, and Ridge gave him is credit card information with a bonus when he said he’d have his truck for him after the holiday.

  His luck seemed to be looking up again.

  He entered the diner, seeing it was a breakfast house that doubled as a fancy eatery.

  The place was crowded and every table was packed. He checked his phone and saw it still had a full set of bars. The reception everyplace now was more than decent. Considering he’d barely been able to get a radio or mobile signal during his trip.

  A wheel churning water turned at the farthest wall. The walls were cobbled stone like the patio. Ridge was shown a table and he opted to sit outside when he knocked into a statuesque patron.

  Ridge nodded, “My apologies, Miss.”

  “Hello,” it was the woman he’d met in the snug one-piece dress from last night.

  She was decked out in a black faux-leather jacket, a black faux-leather skirt, a red blouse and heels that made them stand almost toe to toe when she straightened. Ridge enjoyed her ruby red lips and she smelled like strawberries.

  She was too polished to be a waitress; too put together. Her blouse was unbuttoned t
wo snaps, and when she sat at the table next to his, he was treated with a view of her voluptuous La Perla covered breasts. They were same his fiancé wore. She said they were her secret indulgence and wearing them had worked their magic on him—he’d never been able to keep his hands off her, before and after he’d removed them.

  The redhead nodded at him, then she took a menu from a waitress.

  Ridge felt himself instantly grow hard.

  She looked up from the menu, “Something wrong?”

  “Pardon?” Ridge knocked over his glass of water and caught her hiding her smile with her menu. Smooth, he chastised himself. “I’m not usually such a klutz.” He swiped at the liquid, managing to slosh it further.

  “Hopefully, she’ll also say, ‘Hello’.”

  Ridge dragged a hand through his hair. “About that. ‘Hi’.” The woman nodded. She perched on a red cushion on a wire chair. Reminding him of a royal visiting from a place, far away. She crossed her legs and casually smiled.

  “Brunching alone?”

  “No, I’m meeting someone.”

  “Oh.”

  “I mean, I was,” Ridge thought about Griff. Wondering where he could be. “I’m alone. Not, alone, he said. Geez, Matheison, geek much? He guessed he really was out of touch with being single. “So are you here with anyone?”

  He noticed her set down the menu. Then she pinned him with a sensual stare. “If I was?”

  “I’d have to show him who’s boss,” Ridge smiled.

  “Mm,” she replied. “The place is busy,” she and Ridge saw the tables were even fuller than when each of them had arrived.

  They were joined by a different waitress. “Hi, I’m Candy, and we’re having a bit of overbooking from all of the excitement happening recently.”

  “Indeed,” the red head said.”

  “I know, motorbikes and Molotov cocktails. Wow, right?”

  Ridge and the lady exchanged glances and Ridge shifted in his seat, the memory of last night fresh on his mind. He cleared his throat and the waitress leaned in close.

  “I know each of you has a table, but, we were wondering if you might like to share?”

  Ridge observed the women next to him, her lips forming a perfect “Oh”. Yes, they would end up together. It was only a matter of time.

  Ridge agreed and Candy beamed happily. “Thank you. I’ll take your orders if you’re ready, and I’ll see what I can do to get you something on the house.” Ridge slanted his gaze to his new brunch date as she handed her menu to Candy, biting her bottom lip. She was trying hard not to smile and it made him hard to the core.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Ridge said after Candy left.

  His ‘date’ laughed. “I was thinking I should be thanking ‘you’.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You saved me from an attack by a passel of hogs, as I recall.”

  “There’s a word,” Ridge smiled. “College?”

  “Graduate. Masters.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “It was a really long time ago.”

  “What do you do now?” Ridge noticed her sip her water. Seeing it caress her throat from the inside as if he was sliding down her himself.

  “I’m a personal assistant of sorts. And you?”

  Ridge took a drag from his water as she lit a cigarette. “I think this place is non-smoking?”

  “Are you going to reprimand me?” She exhaled a ring of smoke. “How would you punish me?”

  Ridge coughed, spilling ice water down his new shirt. It made the fabric cling to his pecs, revealing the black shadow of hair in the center of his chest. “This is the second piece I’ve tried to ruin in a day,” he said sheepishly. “Don’t know what’s up with me.”

  “I can imagine.” She touched his hand and their touch sparked.

  The heat flashed white-hot and they sat in a comfortable silence.

  “Here you are,” Candy said. She set a plate of salmon and potatoes for Ridge and a steak for his companion. “Compliments of the house,” she winked.

  She bobbed away with her ponytail swinging and Ridge and his date laughed.

  “She is perky. I’ll have to remember to tip.” Ridge smiled and his ‘date’ paused. “What?”

  He’d noticed she’d ordered her prime rib, rare. She had picked up her utensils and cut a generous piece, reddish pink, and dripping with flavor, almost like blood.

  “I love seeing a woman who enjoys her meat.”

  “Really.”

  Effortlessly, she bit the flesh from the silver plated fork, dragging the pink of her tongue from the tines to their tips.

  Definitely, Ridge mused. “I do.”

  She chewed, languishing the taste and Ridge forgot he hadn’t eaten a morsel in a very long time.

  “Do you have a name?”

  Ridge stirred from his musing and he grabbed his knife and fork. “My friends call me Big Rick. Cause I’m tall. Better than my real name which has always got me into trouble.”

  “Is your middle name, Richard?” His lady asked.

  “It is. You can imagine what high school was like,” he said between mouthfuls of the fresh salmon. “Big—you can guess the rest.”

  “And how tall are you?”

  “Six-foot, six, size 13 shoe.” He looked up from the meal and saw her feasting her eyes on him quietly. “Something wrong?” He mimicked.

  “I was just wondering,” he admired her savoring another healthy bite of nearly raw steak. “About last night.”

  Ridge could guess where the conversation was going. “What do you say we start over, let the strange things that happened stay where they are?”

  “A mystery,” the woman conferred. “Okay. So your name is Rick? Your middle name, anyway. Or is the x-rated version the one you go by when you’re not feting bears?”

  Was that what they had seen? A bear?

  “You disappeared speedily enough,” Ridge noted.

  “Thanks to your help, for which I am eternally grateful.” Ridge wanted to hear more about her. “You didn’t answer.”

  “About ‘let’s begin again’?”

  “No, your middle name.”

  “You haven’t told me yours.”

  Candy set a couple of Heinekens with a tray of assorted chocolates.

  “I didn’t order these,” said the red head.

  “They’re complements of the man at the wheel.” Ridge and the lady scouted the interior and saw the tall biker from the gang.

  “I think there’s a note.”

  “Beer and chocolates,” classy guy, Ridge grumbled.

  He raised his beer to the two of them. Ridge stood. He wasn’t going to let some thug push a woman around, besides, anything Ridge did, the guy had coming.

  “No, don’t. Stay here, with me, if that’s all right?” The lady read the note and as Candy left and Ridge saw her color drain from her face.

  “Anything you need?”

  “Yes. I want to continue our conversation,” she folded the note and slipped it into her Balenciaga zip-around. “Am I correct in assuming you’re new around here?”

  How could she have guessed?

  “I have city brat tattooed across my forehead?”

  “Not at all. There is something about you.”

  “I was thinking the same.” He hoped she found his openness attractive.

  “So do you?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Have any? Tattoos?”

  Ridge reminisced about the wallet brand he’d recognized. His fiancé had spent hours shopping for accessories like that, too. He nearly had forgotten how being with somebody felt. This striking woman in front him made him want to explore his curiosity for her more.

  He did need to find his family but, he was all but invited to spend a little more time with this mystery lady. He’d started things with her. The least he could do was to agree to her requests.

  “No ink.” He regarded her lips press into a pout. “Would a bruise, suffice?” He raised his shirt a
nd let her see the marks under his ribcage.”

  “They’re quite impressive.”

  She looked away and he pulled down his shirt. As concerned about getting naked in public as much as making her uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”