This wasn’t love. It was crazy chemistry, crazy connection, but it wasn’t love. Not yet anyway. But it sure felt like it could be something more than dates that led nowhere with men who only ended up making her angry when they’d complained about her devotion to rescuing strays.
“As much as I’d love to sit and talk about how silly and suddenly sentimental I’ve become, I can’t because I have to go. It was nice chatting with you.”
“Really? Why the rush?” JC asked.
“I have a date tonight, and lo and behold it isn’t with the cats and Netflix.”
JC batted her long eyelashes. “Ooo-la-la. It wouldn’t be date two with a hunk of a vet named Jagger already, would it?”
“I can’t believe you guessed,” Viv teased, still warm on the inside over Jagger’s suggestion they decorate her tree together. “He’s helping me get a Christmas tree and we’re going to decorate it.”
“Jagger?” The woman sat up a little straighter, re-crossing her shapely legs—legs that said she spent some time in a gym.
Instantly, Viv was alert. Did this stunning creature know Jagger? Just as instantly, she experienced a twinge of jealousy—something she’d never experienced. Not even when her ex-boyfriend Nick had cheated.
“Yep. That’s the name of the man I’m all but melting into a puddle of uncharacteristic-like goo over. Do you know him?”
She lifted her chin for a moment, but then she relaxed. “No. It’s just an unusual name. Very sexy,” she purred silkily.
Viv and JC exchanged a quick glance over her head before JC leaned down and said, “Let’s get you washed and I’ll walk my friend out. Blair? Could you give the pretty lady a wash and condition, please?” She pointed to the shampoo girl then grabbed Viv’s arm and directed her toward the front door.
“Who is she—because va-va-voom lady is va-va-voom,” Viv whispered under her breath.
“She’s definitely not going to make a man chew his arm off if he wakes up next to her, and I have no idea. I’ve never seen her before. She was a walk-in.”
Her sixth sense kicked in. “I thought hardly any strangers ever came to town? Didn’t Max tell me they were wary of new faces?”
“Well, it’s Christmas. Werewolves have family, too.”
Viv chuckled, pulling her jacket on, forgetting why she even cared. “I’m just trying to follow the rules Max set forth. Always be cautious of strangers.”
“That husband of mine is a good pack leader, but he borders paranoid. It’s Christmas, for heaven’s sake. To think other pack members won’t have family coming from out of town to visit is crazy.”
Viv nodded, her suspicion melting away. “You’re probably right. Okay, I’m out. So wish me luck.”
JC rubbed her friend’s arms with her typically easy smile. “Why ever would you, Viv The Vixen, need luck?”
Good point. “You know, I don’t know. I just feel like this is a little different…No, I take that back. It’s a lot different than my usual fare, and I can’t put my finger on why. I have a ton of theories, most of which kept me up last night. The only thing I do know is I get a little nervous, and giddy, worrying about screwing things up. Totally not like me, but there you have it.”
JC’s eyes went wide with obvious shock. “It must be love. I’ve never seen you like this, all off your game.”
Viv gave her a tight hug to hide her stupid grin. “It’s no such thing. Two days isn’t long enough to fall in love.”
JC leaned back in her embrace. “Says the woman who assured me a month was plenty of time to decide to mate with a werewolf.”
“That’s thirty days, not two. Now, no more talk of love. We haven’t even kissed-kissed each other yet. Maybe he has sloppy lips or kisses like he’s searching for your soul by way of the interior of your mouth. Now, I’m out.”
She pressed a kiss to her friend’s cheek and heard the sound of JC’s laughter as she headed out of the salon onto the curb to head home before she had to protest anything else.
As she walked toward the cluster of houses and cabins belonging to the Adams family, her step was light despite the cold and yet more falling snow.
No. It wasn’t love yet. But it was something. Something magnetic and tugging her toward a path she hadn’t yet traveled.
And it was invigorating.
Warmth bloomed in her belly once more.
She was going to see Jagger tonight—which left her just short of doing a Maria von Trapp from The Sound of Music right in the middle of the square.
Chapter 6
Viv stood outside the cottage, shielding her eyes from the stray snowflakes falling as Jagger precariously balanced on the ladder, hanging twinkling lights along the A-frame’s roofline.
He’d decided that on top of decorating the Christmas tree they’d bought while sipping hot chocolate and strolling the rows of trees, she needed lights outside, too. After digging through the shed next to the cottage, where she’d remembered seeing boxes labeled “Christmas” when she’d stored the very few things she’d brought from Hoboken, they’d hit the jackpot.
So they’d thrown together a pot of spaghetti sauce, and some meatballs he’d made himself, to simmer on the stove, settled Scar in the living room by the tiny fireplace, where the BSB Boys and JT took advantage of his good nature, and set off outside to deck out the cottage.
Jagger had used his phone to queue up Christmas music, setting it on the rocking chair on the small front porch, the strains filling the air in swells and dips, then climbed up on the roof.
She winced as the ladder wobbled, wrapping her hands around either side of the aluminum to steady it. His tight butt, not far from her view, wasn’t making her mad either.
“You’re going to kill yourself up there, Doggy Doctor! Please be careful. What will the pets of Cedar Glen do if their only vet breaks his legs?”
Jagger barked a laugh into the night. “I’d hope their owners bring casseroles to aid my speedy recovery. Have you had Faith’s tuna noodle casserole? It’s almost worth an injury. I think I saw Jesus the first time I ate it.”
She grinned up at him as she handed him another strand of lights. “I have. She’s forced me to break every rule I ever had about eating a portion of anything bigger than the size of my head.”
He finished draping the last strand and made his way down the ladder, his strong thighs bulging and flexing as he went.
Grabbing the plug, he held it up with a smile. “You want the honors?”
Viv rubbed her cold hands together, driving her nose into her scarf. “Are you kidding? You did all the work. You do the honors.”
He pulled her to his side before bending to grab the extension cord and handing it to her. “On three, okay?”
She nodded and held up the extension cord, shivering against him, not entirely sure it was due to the cold. “One, two, three!”
The two ends connected and suddenly, the small cottage was a wonderland of soft white and multicolored lights, glowing cheerfully in the clear night.
They swayed gracefully from the A-frame’s roof, the glistening icicle lights twisting in the wind with a light tinkle. He’d bracketed the red front door with colored lights from top to bottom, wrapping them around a swag of evergreen at the top of the rounded arch.
Each shrub on either side of the door was adorned, too, covered in nets of lights that winked in the deep purple of the evening, and sparkling candy canes that lit up around their perimeters.
And the pièce de résistance—a lighted reindeer with a gold bow around its neck whose head bowed in a graceful dip.
For some crazy reason, tears filled her eyes. Maybe it was because her parents, who were Christmas lovers just like Jagger, despite their Jewish upbringings, were so far away, or it was just the time of year when sentiment ran high, but Viv found herself overcome with emotion.
She gripped his arm and whispered up at him, “It’s perfect—beautiful…thank you.”
Repositioning her so their hips faced each other�
�s, Jagger looked down at her. “It’s my favorite time of year. No one should have a dark house on Christmas.”
And then, while light snowflakes swirled around them, as the wind whistled and Nat King Cole sang “White Christmas”, their cold hands clasped at their thighs, Jagger kissed her.
Light at first, but still commanding, his lips met hers, testing them, fitting them to his mouth.
Viv sighed into him when his tongue touched hers for the very first time, the silken rasp making their entwined hands tighten. Fire shot to the pit of her belly, her toes curling inside her boots when his arms enveloped her, pulling her close.
Her arms slid up along Jagger’s, over his thick biceps covered in a puffy jacket, along the caps of his shoulders and eventually winding around his neck to curl her fingers into his hair.
Their groans mingled, the cold air suddenly not so cold.
Jagger’s hands swept over her spine as his arms pulled her closer, lifting her off her feet while he kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.
Her toes curled even tighter in her boots, her breathing grew harsh while she clung to him, absorbing his hard length and the rigid line in his jeans pressing against her.
Mouths clashed, more needy now, their kiss deepening, and her hunger grew, tightening like a coil waiting to spring. If Jagger had stripped her bare right outside the cottage in the freezing temperatures, she’d have been willing to succumb. The kiss was that good.
In the far off distance, she heard a ringing, or tinkling, or some jarring sound that had the nerve to interrupt this amazing, glorious kiss.
“That’s my damn phone,” he said against her mouth, nipping at her lips as he let her body slide down against his until her feet were on the ground.
Viv groaned her crushing disappointment. “Is it the ringtone for an emergency?”
He dropped a kiss on her nose, now getting cold, before letting her go. “’Fraid so. For right now, I am the only vet in town.”
Viv’s shoulders slumped and he gripped her hand in apology as she slipped past him. “I’ll go check the sauce. C’mon in when you’re done.”
With great reluctance, she made her way inside, the smell of spaghetti sauce rich and delicious with garlic reaching her nose, making her stomach grumble.
Scar roused, removing himself with great care from the pile of sleeping cats to come sit at her feet, his droopy eyes assessing her. Viv smiled down at him. “I see you survived the cat-pocalypse, huh, buddy? You’re the best dog ever, you know that, right?”
Scar rumbled his answer before flopping down on the small slice of rug in front of the sink as though he’d just done a triathlon.
Jagger stuck his head inside the door, his eyes grim from beneath the rim of his red knit hat. “We’ve got an emergency. Max just called. You in?”
Her stomach jumped with a nervous jolt as she turned the sauce off. “Always. You think Scar will be okay here with the boys?”
“Scar would be okay with Satan. C’mon, we have to hurry.”
Reaching down, Viv gave Scar a quick scratch on the ears before rushing out the door behind Jagger.
As she climbed into the van, she prayed no more animals had been injured.
* * * *
Max paced the floor of the woods, his booted feet kicking up the freshly fallen snow. “Who the hell is doing this and why? And why can’t I get a scent from this?” he asked Jagger, his eyes flashing with anger.
Viv jammed her hands inside her jacket, trying not to look in the direction of the pile of mutilated rabbits as Jagger finished looking over the lone bunny who’d miraculously survived.
They’d arrived to find Max and his brother Derrick waiting for them on the outskirts of Derrick’s property to avoid alerting Hector. They’d taken them deep into the woods where the rabbits were killed.
To their surprise, one rabbit, buried under a lump of fellow dead rabbits, had moved, squeaking weakly. Jagger and Viv had fallen to their knees and begun pinpointing the squeaks until they found him.
He was now tucked inside Jagger’s jacket, snuggled with a heat pack he’d brought for her hands, mostly shaken up more than anything else.
“Hector’s going to freak if he sees this,” Derrick commented, his strong jaw rigid under the half moon. “I need to bury them before he comes out here again. I’m going to go get a shovel.” As he passed her, he squeezed her shoulder. “Good seeing you, Viv. Martine said if you need a hand shifting, give her a call. She’s happy to help.”
Viv nodded, her throat tight. “I’ll do that. Thank her for me, would you?”
“Were these part of Hector’s crew?” Jagger asked.
Max sighed. “No. Thank Christ. He’s going to be upset enough as it is.”
Jagger planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t get why I’m not getting a distinct scent, either.”
Max rolled his shoulders before crossing his arms over his big chest. “Something has to be done. Maybe we patrol the woods at night? I don’t know, but I won’t have this, and when I catch the son of a bitch, I’m going to kill him myself.” He hissed the words, his face a mask of anger.
Max was usually pretty easygoing, a fair pack leader according to anyone who knew him, but he wasn’t afraid to dole out a harsh punishment if the crime warranted one. To see him this angry only made Viv that much more aware of how lucky she was to live in a place where her shifting was protected.
“It’s pretty clear these bodies are fairly fresh. So whomever or whatever is responsible has some appetite. No one heard anything or saw anything?”
Max shook his head. “Not a damn thing. JC and I were decorating the tree, and before I say this, I love my wife, and yes, I’m a werewolf with keen hearing. But no one can hear anything over JC’s screeching…er, singing. And my parents are still in the honeymoon phase of their reunion, if that can get any more embarrassing to admit. So they were busy.”
Max’s parents, Faith and Brock, had been apart for several years due to a curse and Brock’s imprisonment. Viv hadn’t asked JC the details so as not to pry, but Brock Adams’s homecoming had been a huge celebration, followed by them reaffirming their vows.
Jagger snickered as he cupped the bunny to his chest, its small skull looking rather like the size of the head of a pin compared to his hand. “I get it. I have parents who’re still crazy about each other, too.”
“Derrick and Martine were at the bar, but if anyone else heard anything, they haven’t come forward.”
“Okay, so let’s look around. Maybe we can spot tracks or something. I know the snow is fresh, but with these thick trees, maybe whatever kind of animal this is wandered under one of them and left us some kind of hint.”
As the men poked around the area, shaking their heads, Viv shivered.
There was a slight rustling sound coming from her left, where a thatch of bare limbs on some bushes crackled. Her eyes were sharp in the dark, almost sharper than they were during the day, and she caught a glimpse of a rabbit, hobbling.
Probably another victim of the monster who’d eaten them like they were weenies in a blanket.
Without thought, she left the men to investigate and kept her eyes on the injured animal. “C’mere, little guy!” she whispered into the night. “I won’t hurt you.”
She’d been told that, in her animal form, she could learn to communicate with other non-shifter animals, but she had a hard enough time getting her shifts right at this point. There was no sense in attempting a shift in the middle of this mess.
The rabbit made a break for an area of large rocks, dark and clustered, and she did, too, running after it as fast as she could in the deep snow.
“Dude! I’m trying to help you here! I’m your personal 911!”
But the rabbit turned deaf ears on her plea, ducking into the thick of the rocks.
Perfect.
Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she narrowed her eyes and got a good glimpse between the boulder-size rocks.
Was that a
cave? Kind of cool if not for the fact that it was twenty degrees and as cold as Antarctica. Maybe on one of her test runs out here in the woods, she’d check it out.
But then it dawned on her—where did a rabbit go to hide?
A cave was as close to a hole as you got, and considering the bushes were barren, it made sense. She began making her way over the rough terrain, her ankles turning inward awkwardly.
The rustling noise met her ears again, soft and steady.
“Listen, you ingrate, I’m trying to save you from a vicious serial bunny killer here. Do you want to end up like the rest of your family and friends? Did you see that pile of bodies? It wasn’t pretty, pal. Now stay put,” she ordered as though the rabbit understood her.
There were a bunch of very large rocks surrounding the opening of the cave with very little space between them as though someone had tried to block it off. She’d have to either squeeze between or climb over them to get to the cave’s entrance. After the lunch she’d had with Jagger today, she was likely going to have to haul her ass up and over.
Her sigh grated from her cold lips as she planted a foot on a craggy edge of the granite surface, hoping to get a foothold. “When I get my hands on you, we’re due a conversation about stranger danger and how it applies to someone who’s just trying to save you.”
Grunting, she managed to haul herself over the rock, slipping on the way down and ripping her only pair of good jeans. “And you owe me some jeans,” she muttered before dropping down in front of the cave’s opening.
Her eyes honed in on the dark interior of the cave…and what she saw made her cock her head.
A nest of twigs sat in the middle of it, along with a few empty beer cans scattered about and a Moonpie wrapper. Maybe the kids in town came out here to drink and party?
Also in the middle of the twigs was the rabbit, spots of dried blood visible on his back leg.
Thrusting her boots into the snow, she lifted her legs high and dropped her feet downward as she made her way to the cave. “Do not move, mister!” she warned—just before she heard a low, deep growl.
Okay, so, note to self: When animal attacks abound, don’t go off alone in the woods, moron.
Moves Like Jagger (Wolf Mates Book 4) Page 6