by Chloe Cole
“What about a little wager?” she said suddenly.
Where had that come from? Maybe the beer talking. She’d had three already, and had been too nervous to do much more than pick at the buffalo wings they’d ordered when they first got there. Still, now that the idea of a wager had come to her, she couldn’t shake it.
In for a penny…
“No way you make that shot.”
Billy stood and eyed her, a smile tugging at his firm lips. “Is that so? All right, then. Put your money where your mouth is. What’s the bet?”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead and swallowed hard as dozens of inappropriate thoughts flooded her brain. After the stress and strain of the past month, she’d grabbed onto the one night respite he’d offered like a lifeline, but maybe it was time to pump the brakes a little.
“A drink?” she said finally.
Lame.
He shook his golden head slowly, a challenging light filling his eyes. “I can buy my own drinks. This shot is tough. If I make it, I want something good.”
“L-like what?”
Out of nowhere, she was suddenly very aware of her new bra. The black lace confection had cost her more than she’d made that day at The Naughty Kitty, but once she’d seen it, she couldn’t resist.
“A kiss,” he said. The words came out in a guttural, half-growl. Like they’d been mined from between his lips with a pick-axe, against his will. A fact that shouldn’t have set her body aflame, but sooo did.
She should say no, flat out, but she couldn’t seem to make her lips form the word. Nothing good could come of saying yes. But, damn it, she'd get to feel that mouth on hers again.
Which will only make you crave it more, the irritating, persistent voice in her head reminded her.
Friends.
She’d decided sometime between her shopping trip and when his truck had pulled up to her house, they could only be friends. At least until she figured out what had happened the night of the kidnapping. Even if he wasn’t hiding something from her and it was just her own paranoia or some form of PTSD, diving headfirst into a relationship--or whatever this was—with a near stranger was probably a bad idea.
“Billy, we can’t--”
“Sleep together.” He inclined his head in a curt nod. “So you said. And I agree with that part of it. Bad idea. But a kiss? Hell, we’ve already done that. What’s one more going to hurt?”
She could almost hear the gears in her brain shifting, making way for the rationalization portion of the show. They had already kissed once. And who was she kidding? The second he’d mentioned it, she’d known she wouldn’t refuse him. If she did, she’d have spent the rest of their time together thinking about it, and the rest of the week regretting that she hadn’t done it. Plus, who was to say he’d even win the bet?
She took another long pull from her beer for liquid courage and then nodded. “All right, then. A kiss.”
“And if I miss?”
Her already slightly tipsy mind went blank. If he didn’t make the shot, then what did she want from him? A few silly things flitted through her head. To have him refer to her as “Champ” all night long. Maybe have him pen a limerick about her stunning victory. But as she stood there looking at him, words came tumbling from her lips, unbidden.
“I want you to tell me a secret.”
He had one. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Even now, although the heat in his eyes didn't cool even one degree, his gaze grew guarded, and she wished she could take it back. What was she thinking, taking his harmless flirtation and turning it into some deep conversation? They’d made a deal for the night and she’d broken it. Total fail on her part, and she hurried to backtrack.
"It doesn't have to be where the bodies are buried or anything like that."
God, kill her now. Why had she brought up bodies when she was pretty sure the crazy kidnapper and would-be murderer, Tobias Wheeler, was buried somewhere on the grounds of the compound where Billy and his friends lived? Yet another little tidbit that should probably alarm her far more than it did, but whatever they’d had to do in an effort to get Chandra back, she was on board with. He’d deserved it after what he’d done. But again, not a discussion for tonight.
“Forget the ‘never told anyone else’ part,” she hastened to add. “Just any old thing is fine. Like the one movie you always cry at. Or even the name of your first pet.”
Right when she was about to back out on the bet altogether and tell him it was okay if he just wanted to bring her home, he held up a hand to stop her babbling.
"I'm good with it. And you know why?" He strolled toward her, his swagger as confident as his expression. "Because I'm not going to miss." He stroked her cheek with his index finger in the softest of touches. "So you better get those lips puckered and ready, because it's about to go down."
Probably, she should've been worried. He sure said it like it was a threat. But damned if it didn't just send a rush of damp heat to her center.
She forced a chuckle and willed her heart to stop pounding hard enough for him to hear. "Talk is cheap. Let's see it happen."
This time, when Billy went to take his shot, the casual stance he'd taken the rest of the game was nowhere to be found. He was focused, every muscle drawn tight, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was a thing to behold.
As was the way those faded jeans clung to his fine ass when he bent lower.
"Like I said, four-ball, side pocket."
Blood rushed to her ears and her mouth went bone-dry as the ball landed in the pocket with a thunk. "Nice one," she managed to squeeze out.
"It was. Want to go again?” He hitched his hip to lean against the table and eyed her intently. “Another kiss if I make the eight-ball? And a secret for you if I miss."
It was a sucker's bet. The ball was a hair's breadth from the pocket. But if she was going to dig herself in deeper by kissing him once, doing it twice could hardly make things worse.
And, damn, did she want that secret.
"You're on."
He gave her one last hungry look before bending to position himself for the shot.
She watched, all thought suspended, as he cocked his arm and sent the cue ball careening toward the eight. The black ball fell neatly into the pocket, but before she could even process how to feel about it, the white cue ball fell behind it.
"Scratch! You lose," she murmured, a thrill coursing through her. She got to kiss Billy and she got her secret.
“Looks like it.” He straightened, the expression on his face sending her pulse racing. “So what do you say we get out of here? I’ve been thinking of the secret I want to share, and I think it’s better if I tell you in private. Then, if you’re game, I’ll collect my kiss. I’d prefer if we didn't have an audience, if it's all the same to you.”
It wasn't all the same to her. In fact, the very thought had her jumping out of her skin. How was she going to stick to her guns and keep herself from acting on her impulses if they were alone and unsupervised?
But the lure of him…the promise of his secret, while terrifying, was also too strong to resist.
She drained the last of her beer and mustered up a smile and her courage.
“What are we waiting for?”
CHAPTER SIX
It wasn’t an easy task, but Amber tried to let the warm breath of the heater and the low drone of the truck's engine soothe her as they drove.
She wasn't sure where they were going, and oddly enough, she wasn’t sure it mattered. She'd spent the past month floating in space, unanchored and alone. But she wasn’t alone anymore, and she trusted him. He knew what she’d been through, had lived through the fear and terror with her, and just having him near again grounded her and made her feel safe.
"We're here," he said softly, the husky baritone pulling her from her reverie.
She opened her eyes and straightened, looking around. "We're where?"
They’d pulled off the bumpy, makeshift road he’d been on and into a
tiny inlet. Tall, skeletal trees surrounded them on all sides, the sight only broken by the occasional lush jack pine or evergreen. The moon hung fat in the sky, like a milky wheel of cheese, and lit the tiny clearing in a warm light.
"I told you. Somewhere private."
He turned off the car, and let himself out before coming around to her side and opening her door. "Seriously? Weren’t you just telling me about wolves venturing out of their territories?” She stared down at his big, outstretched hand and then glanced past him into the dark forest. “Your apartment is private. My house is private, and only like twenty minutes away. It’s warm…and there are lights."
His firm lips twitched and he shook his head slowly. "That sounds great, but for now, this is where we need to be, all right?"
She took in a steadying breath and blew it out, wincing as it crystalized in the freezing air in a puff of white. "Do you at least have a blanket or something?"
His green eyes took on a curious light. "You won't need one."
She winced but nodded and reached out a hand to grab her purse.
“Won’t need that either.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but then let it close with a snap. He was it right now. The one person who had been willing to help her through this when the rest of his friends obviously still blamed her at least half as much as she blamed herself for all that had happened. If he wanted to share with her, she’d play by his rules. It was the least she could do.
She slipped her hand into his and murmured in pleasure as the heat of his skin warmed her.
He helped her out of the car onto the ice-crusted grass and led her toward the center of the clearing. There was a small fire pit there with wood already neatly stacked.
"Oh, that's excellent," she said, releasing his hand and bee-lining straight for it. "Please tell me you have matches?"
He brandished them with a half-smile and popped a squat next to the circle of rocks. “Like a Boy Scout, always prepared.”
Less than a minute later, a crackling fire roared, and she groaned in appreciation as she leaned in to hold her hands over the flames.
“So much better.”
“Have a seat.” He gestured to a long, wide log in front of the fire and she sat obediently.
The suspense was killing her and she eyed him expectantly. “Okay. So let’s hear it. What’s your secret?”
What if he decided to kiss her first instead? She probably had beer breath. God, why hadn’t she grabbed a mint on the way out of the bar?
"I think it's better if I just show you."
Any thought that he’d decided to take her up on her offer to share something silly with her about his favorite chick flick or his embarrassing middle name fled when she saw how serious he’d grown. So much so that her muzzy brain urged her to make a joke to ease the tension. Ask him if he’d brought her here as a ritual sacrifice for a raccoon worshipping cult or something. But his solemn expression sealed her lips and she waited, silent, heart galloping wildly in her chest.
He turned around and yanked his shirt off. Hysteria began to build inside her, and laughter bubbled from her mouth. Maybe he really was going to kill her after all. Or maybe he was a flasher and he was about to whip it out.
But even through the haze of the alcohol, a deeper part of her, the part that already knew—had always known—wasn't laughing at all. Visions from her nightmares battered her brain, images of monsters and men and teeth gnashing melded with the present. Shadows dappled Billy's skin as he moved, shucking off his boots, unbuckling his jeans and letting them drop to the ground, leaving him in only a pair of black boxer shorts.
He straightened and she almost told him to stop. Almost told him that she'd rather live in ignorance. She could still walk away right now. Go back to her little Victorian house and work her ass off to forget that she'd ever met Wheeler or Billy or any of his friends.
"Amber?" His low voice centered her and she met his intense gaze. He was offering it to her now. The chance to back out.
She took a steadying breath, suddenly as sober as a priest in church, and nodded. "I'm ready."
She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it paled in comparison to what she got.
One second, Billy stood there, tall and strong and handsome, like a God from Greek Mythology. Thor without need of a hammer.
The next, he leapt into the air, head tipped back, body flexed, and exploded into something else entirely.
It happened so fast, the shock of it hit her like a bucket of ice to the face. The last thing she saw before she hit the ground was that tawny, green-eyed wolf of her dreams loping toward her.
* * *
"AMBER?"
He was starting to get worried now. He'd done everything he could think of to wake her, and had followed all the protocol to stave off shock. For the past ten minutes, though, she lay in his now-clothed lap, knocked the hell out.
She didn't seem to be in any discomfort so he was loathe to move her, but it was getting to the point that he was considering bringing her back to the compound to have the pack doctor take a look at her. That wasn't the way he'd imagined breaking the news to the pack, but Amber's health was more important than covering his own ass, and if that was what needed doing-
"Billy?"
The chunk of ice wedged in his stomach melted at the sound of her soft voice.
"Hey there. You scared me there for a second."
She shook her head slowly and her body went stiff as she became more aware of her surroundings.
"I scared you?" She shoved at his chest and scrambled to her feet, fury blazing in her eyes, hotter than the fire that crackled between them. “You son of a bitch.”
Her voice dripped icicles, and she nearly spat the words at him.
“I asked you. I begged you to tell me, and instead, you let me think I’d lost my mind.”
He rose and stepped toward her, but she backed away.
He had to slow it down. She was still reeling and she had every right to be.
“I didn’t want to lie to you. I need you to believe me when I tell you that I had no choice. Hell, even now, I’m breaking more pack laws than you could ever hope to imagine by telling you. Our kind doesn’t do this sort of thing.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and stared down at her. “Do you know how many humans I’ve shared the truth with, Amber?”
She glared at him before whipping around to face the fire, staring into its depths as if it held the answer to his question.
“None,” he said softly. “You are the only person I’ve ever told about us. Because I hated lying to you and I thought you deserved the truth.”
He’d known this wasn’t going to be easy, but what if he’d gotten it wrong? What if she did the exact opposite of what he’d thought she would do, and betrayed him? Or, worse, betrayed his pack?
He steeled himself against the rush of emotions that swamped him and shoved it aside. They’d had a bad run with humans lately, what with Sara’s death and Chandra’s kidnapping, but Amalie was living proof that there were humans who deserved their respect. And Amber was one of them.
"So, just to state the obvious and make sure we're all on the right page, you're what? A werewolf?" she asked, her voice still tight with anger.
He mulled over that question, debating on arguing semantics, but opted to take the easy route to start. No point in overwhelming her this soon.
"Basically, yeah."
"All of you?"
"The people at the compound, you mean? Yes."
He’d originally considered only telling her about him, but had dismissed it out of hand. She wasn’t stupid. Once the wheels were set in motion, the rest would fall into place whether he told her or not. No point in losing what little trust he’d earned by telling her another lie that wouldn’t help the situation in any case.
She started pacing back and forth, muttering to herself, and he didn’t interrupt her. Another five minutes went by before she slowed to look at him again. Some of the anger had fad
ed and her eyes were clearer than he’d ever seen them, like she’d been lifted from a fog. The sight sent a shot of hope through him.
"And that's why Wheeler wanted Chandra so bad? He wanted to prove that you all existed, is that right? That was all the crazy nonsense he was rambling about."
He nodded, leaning back against a nearby tree. “And she wasn’t his only victim. He murdered Jax’s first mate, Sara.”
She blanched and her already pale cheeks went chalk-white. "No wonder Jax hates me.”
“You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. You made a mistake.” He pushed away from the tree, and this time, when he stepped forward, she didn’t back away. “We made mistakes on our end too, and I’m trying to rectify that now. What do you say we start fresh? From today.”
Her responding nod was tentative and slow to come. “We can try.”
He would need more than that from her soon enough, but for tonight? He’d take it.
Her nod circled around, morphing into a dazed shake of her head. “I know I should be freaking out right now. Werewolves exist. Jesus, it’s like a frigging bizarre dream. But all I feel is residual anger.” She met his gaze, her brows knit in confusion. “And relief. How crazy is that? Like, a frigging Mack truck ton has been lifted off my shoulders. Because I knew."
She bit her trembling bottom lip and the fire bathed her skin in a warm glow as she wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked slowly from side to side.
"I was so lost. I knew I'd seen something, but my brain just wouldn't accept it.” Her throat worked as she swallowed hard enough that he could hear it. “Thank you for showing me. I know it must have been a difficult decision.”
There was so much more to the story. So much more he needed to say before he could even imagine an outcome that didn’t end in tragedy. But her words were a start. The kernel of hope he needed to push forward with his plan.
Tomorrow.
But tonight? He reached out and took her unresisting hand in his.
“There’s something else I want you to see.”