by Jane Jamison
“Excuse me, but could you help me?”
The older woman, her wise face lined with wrinkles, turned her way. “What is it you need help with?”
The woman’s tone wasn’t as friendly as most of the people she’d met so far in Forever, but then again, maybe the woman was simply tired. No doubt, standing on her feet would take its toll on her old bones.
“I can never figure out if a melon is ripe or not. Do you know any tricks?”
The older woman sauntered over to Malia and took the melon from her, snatching it out of Malia’s hands instead of allowing Malia to hand it over. She moved with the grace and beauty of a much younger woman. Her nametag said her name was Miss Clara.
Miss Clara lifted the melon then arched an eyebrow. “There ain’t no trick to it. Either it’s ripe or it isn’t, like every other kind of produce. Did you give it a good sniff?”
Malia had heard of shaking a melon to see if it was ripe, but she’d never heard of sniffing it. Still, it made sense. Would a ripe melon have a distinctive aroma? Would an overly ripe melon smell? “I guess I never thought of sniffing it.”
Miss Clara held the melon up to her nose, took a slow inhale, then handed it back to Malia. “It’s as ripe as it’s gonna get.” Both eyebrows arched upward. “You moved into one of Jackson Carr’s rental houses, didn’t you?”
No doubt the small town had its gossip mill working full time. She didn’t mind being the subject of the town’s speculation. After all, she wouldn’t be in town long enough for it to matter. Still, a good gossip train might work in her favor, helping her to find out about Forever and its citizens.
“Are you planning on sticking around for a while?”
For some reason, she didn’t think the old woman was asking simply to make polite conversation. Instead, she sensed that Miss Clara really wanted to know. “That’s right. I’m in one of his rental homes.” She shrugged, trying to play it cool. “But I’m not sure how long I’m going to stay. I took an impromptu vacation on a whim. Kind of a spur of the moment adventure.”
Suspicion flared in the old woman’s eyes. “An impromptu vacation, huh? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Then again, I don’t take vacations. I figure whatever I’m doing every day is what I should be doing. And if I don’t like what I’m doing, then I’ll do something else.”
“You’re lucky you can,” added Malia. “Not many of us have a choice.” She lifted the melon slightly and nodded in silent thanks before putting it into her shopping cart. “Thanks for the help.”
“Why is it I get the feeling that you’re here for more than just an impromptu vacation?” Miss Clara added air quotes to the words “impromptu vacation.”
Malia had started to turn away, to go about her shopping, but the woman’s words stopped her. “I don’t know what you mean.” Why was the older woman questioning her? Did she think she was lying? But what reason would she have to lie? Besides, she’d told the truth. She had taken an impromptu vacation.
Miss Clara’s gaze locked onto her, seemingly driving to her soul. There was wisdom in those old eyes. Wisdom such as Malia had never heard of. Suddenly, she wanted to tell the woman the truth—or, at least, the other part of the truth—but thought her answer was ridiculous. What was she supposed to say? That she’d stayed to check out a myth about werewolves? Not that she believed the myth Darrold had mentioned. Who would? Or would she tell Miss Clara even more of the truth? How could she say that she’d stayed because she’d met an interesting man? How could she say that her old boyfriend didn’t care whether she came home in a hurry or not?
“Uh-huh.” Again the eyebrows arched.
Obviously, Miss Clara didn’t believe her. Could the woman tell that she was guarding her words? She fought an impulse to tell everything. Something about Miss Clara made her want to be completely truthful. Without understanding why, she wanted to tell her all the reasons why she was really there. But she couldn’t. How insane would it be to say that she’d stayed for a man she’d spoken to only for a few minutes? Even if she could explain the odd sensation she’d felt the moment she’d talked to him, she couldn’t expect anyone to understand, much less to believe her.
“No, seriously. I’m just taking a break.” Her words sounded false even to her.
“So there’s nothing else about Forever that interests you?” asked Miss Clara. “Other than a bit of sightseeing?”
Malia shook her head, trying her best to deny it. Irritation mixed with nervousness. Why was it such a big deal, anyway? Why did this woman want to know? She kept back a curt retort. “No, not at all. I mean, the town is interesting. And the people are interesting, too. But I’m really just looking for a break before I head home.”
“And where is that? Where is your home, young one?”
“I’m from Houston.”
“So you’re a big-city girl.” Miss Clara crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Now why would a big-city girl want to hang out in a small country town?”
Irritation nixed her nervousness. She smiled, knowing the gesture lacked warmth. “Isn’t that the point? Don’t you want to go someplace that’s different than where you live? Otherwise, it wouldn’t be much of an adventure, now would it?”
Judging by the narrowing of her eyes, Miss Clara wasn’t buying it. “I guess so. Maybe. But nothing very interesting has happened since you’ve gotten here, has it? You haven’t met someone interesting, have you? Or maybe you’ve heard some interesting rumors? Maybe it’s curiosity that’s keeping you here?”
How could the old woman know? And yet, by the way she was asking, she did. Malia’s hands tightened her grip on the grocery cart. “I’ve met a lot of people, and they’re all very nice and very interesting. As for rumors, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The last thing she wanted to admit was that she’d stayed out of a curiosity to see a werewolf. That and the dark eyes of Darrold Brack.
A soft smile stretched the old woman’s lips. “Girl, you can tell everyone that story, but I know there’s something more going on here. You felt something”—she fisted her hand over her stomach—“something different.”
Part of Malia wanted to walk away, be it rude or not. Yet another part of her couldn’t help but ask questions. “Why don’t you fill me in? What rumors are you talking about?”
Miss Clara shrugged, her bony shoulders going up and down. “We have all kinds of rumors running around this town. Most small towns do. But in Forever? There’s a whole lot more going on than what meets the eye. You best be careful, young one.”
“Careful about what?” Miss Clara’s words had unnerved her, but she had to know more. “You’re starting to scare me.”
“Just be careful who you get involved with.” Miss Clara moved closer and put her hand on Malia’s arm. “And be doubly careful about the animals around here. It’s hard to tell the good ones from the bad ones.” She squeezed her arm then, suddenly, whirled around and hurried off.
“Wait,” called Malia. “What do you mean about animals?” Was she talking about werewolves? Did the elderly woman believe the myths were real? She’d raised her voice to call out to Miss Clara and now realized she’d spoken out loud. The last thing she wanted to do was to let people think she’d come to town for any other reason except, of course, a vacation. Shouting in a small market would draw unwanted attention. It seemed she already had enough of that.
She watched as Miss Clara disappeared around the corner. Her thoughts again turned to Darrold. Miss Clara had warned her to be careful about animals, but had she been warning her about Darrold, too? Although he’d said he’d be in touch, she didn’t know for certain if she’d see him again. Where was he, anyway? And was he the type she needed to be careful around? Was there something more about Darrold than what met the eye?
Suddenly, she was sure there was. Although she’d been thrown by the strange sensation inside her, she could remember feeling as though he were different, a man’s man, the kind of man who would want his woman at home with him. He
wasn’t the type who’d be okay with her taking a break instead of coming back to his bed.
Darrold wasn’t like Bill. No, Darrold would be passionate, a man who demanded what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. The thought sent a tremor through her, one born of craving and not fear.
If I’m smart, I’ll get the hell out of this town right now. I should get back home to Bill.
Yet, something held her there. A yearning, a hunger that had to be fed.
I’m going to find you, Darrold. How hard could it be in a small town?
* * * *
As soon as Malia walked into the bar, she wanted to turn around. Too many heated gazes landed on her. But, after driving around the town—which took all of fifteen minutes—she’d figured out that the Moonstone Bar was the most likely place to find Darrold. If he was in town, the bar was the only place for him to be.
Ignoring the stares, she waltzed up to the bar and ordered a beer. Downing it earned her appreciative nods from some of the locals. She ordered yet another beer, then another, the warm liquid giving her the courage to keep going.
So far, she hadn’t seen Darrold. Not that he wasn’t there. The crowd was too big with lots of very large men for her to see everyone. Once she saw him, however, she wanted to be sure she’d make an unforgettable impression. Her gaze slid along the bar. One time, back in college, she’d dared to do it. But did she have the nerve now? She took another long drink.
“Are you thinking about doing what I think you’re thinking about doing?”
Recognizing Milly’s voice, Malia smiled and turned toward her new friend. “What do you think I’m thinking about doing?”
Milly waved at the bartender to pour her a beer. “I think you’re thinking about dancing on top of the bar.”
“That’s a good guess.”
“I’m a good guesser.” Milly lifted her beer in thanks to the bartender. “Put it on my tab. And hers, too.”
“Thanks.” She eyed Milly. “So? Should I do it?”
“If you have a good reason, then sure. Trust me. Some of these guys are animals, but they’re not the type to take advantage of a woman. No matter what she does. Besides, I’m here. I’ll protect you.”
“Good to know.” Malia checked the crowd, once more searching for Darrold. Once again, she was disappointed.
“I don’t think he’s here.” Milly’s eyes sparkled with understanding. “But if he’s not, then he’ll be here soon enough. Along with his cousins.”
“Then I better get to it. Just in case.”
“If you’re sure. Just know that no one’s going to judge you for it.” Milly took a sip then chuckled. “Hell, this place has seen a whole lot worse. Go on. Do it if you’re wanting to.”
I came here to let it all out. To do what I wouldn’t normally do. At least, not since college.
She swallowed, closed her eyes, and searched for the answer. Although she was nervous, she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t go for it.
You can do this. Go for it.
“Wish me luck,” she said. Using a stool, she hoisted herself on top of the counter.
* * * *
Mike Woodston wasn’t a patient man. So when he, Darrold, and Byton had shown up at the rental house where Malia was staying and had found it empty, he was ticked off. Hell, he’d already been pissed off when Darrold hadn’t called them about Malia. Darrold had raved about having the connection with her, but he’d taken fucking too long to get back to the ranch and clue them in. Now, if only he and Byton had the connection with her, too, they’d finally be set for life.
Once they’d made certain she wasn’t home, they’d decided to go to the Moonstone Bar. There weren’t many other places she could be. Even Milly’s Coffee Spot had shut down for the night.
His wolf howled, even more impatient than the man. He was finally going to meet his intended mate. Storming out of the pickup, Mike barreled into the bar, shoving the front door wide open. Impatience, along with excited anticipation, gnawed at him.
Yet his impatience was gone in a flash once he walked into the bar and saw what was happening. Most of the men inside the place were turned toward the bar, the long counter that encompassed almost the entire back wall. They cheered and shouted and raised their beers to his show their appreciation of the show. Many of them had amber flecks in their eyes, their libidos rising along with their inner animals to enjoy the spectacle. If they grew any more excited, some of them would start drooling. Or, worse, shifting.
“Holy crap, will you look at that?” said Byton.
Mike’s gaze traveled from the crowd up to the counter where a beautiful woman danced along the bar. She held a pitcher of beer and took a drink from it every once in a while, uncaring if some of the alcohol skimmed down her neck and onto her shirt. Her body was amazing, perfectly curved in all the right places. Her coppery hair shone under the lights of the bar as it bounced around her shoulders. She wore tight jeans and a tight top, leaving very little to the imagination. The drink had wet her shirt, plastering the material against her body. She could have easily won a wet T-shirt contest. Her hips moved to the sound of a good hard-pounding country music. Her high heels, shoes most of the women in Forever never wore, skimmed along the bar as a smile filled her face. He was both entranced and dismayed.
“Is that her?” Once he got closer, he’d be able to pick up on the connection. Provided, of course, that there was one between them. Was this the woman Darrold had told them about? Was this the woman who might be their mate? Darrold was certain she was his mate, but Mike and Byton would have to feel the connection with her before they could claim the same.
“Yep. That’s her. She fucking amazing, right?” said Darrold.
“If she’s our mate, then what the hell is she doing up there?” She was definitely amazing, spinning around gracefully with a pitcher of beer in hand. If she weren’t their mate, he’d be as excited as the rest of the men clamoring to get closer. But if she was their mate, he didn’t want all the other men staring at her, wanting her, ready to put their cocks between her legs. Jealousy was an emotion he wasn’t used to and one he didn’t like.
“Mike, take it easy,” warned Darrold. “Remember, she doesn’t know who she is. She doesn’t know she belongs to us.”
“Neither do we.” Byton shrugged, his smile trying to tone down Mike’s irritation. “Mike and I haven’t felt the connection with her yet. Until we do, we don’t have any right to tell her what to do.”
Bullshit.
Mike wouldn’t let her make a spectacle of herself any longer. Pushing through the crowd of mostly men, he made his way toward the bar. Crossing his arms, he glared up at her as she continued to dance.
And then it hit him. The sensation whipped through him, a whirlwind of emotion that had no end. It channeled outward from his crotch, running through his limbs, taking over his entire body. At first, he didn’t like the feeling, hating the loss of control. Then, once he realized what it was, he was too stunned to think. Stunned and eager as hell to accept it.
A hand on his shoulder had him turning toward Byton. Their gazes met, and he knew his brother felt the same way. Byton nodded and grinned.
Mike turned his attention back to the woman on the bar. “What was her name again?” he asked. As if he didn’t remember. He wouldn’t have forgotten her name so easily, but he needed time to think, time to get used to the feeling. At least, as used to the feeling as any man could ever get.
“Malia,” answered Darrold. “Malia Bloom.”
Mike raised his voice to be heard about the crowd. “Malia, get the hell off that bar.”
She stopped dancing and turned to face him, surprise widening her eyes. The crowd quieted down, eager to see where things would go. Her eyes narrowed as she carried her gaze from the tip of his head to his boots then back up.
Did she like what she saw? He ached to ask her.
“What did you say?” An eyebrow arched in defiance.
He wasn’t about to back down from h
is mate, especially when she needed him to keep her safe. “I told you to get the hell down off that bar.”
Her surprise turned to irritation, which quickly developed a defiance that was expressed in a smirk. “And who the hell are you to tell me what I’m supposed to do?” Her gaze jumped to Darrold, recognition glinting in her eyes before she took a look at Byton, then finally turned her attention back to Mike. The brief time she’d taken her focus away from him felt like an eternity.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re making a fool of yourself. Now get down. I’m not going to tell you again.” He heard the crowd murmur and knew most of them were ready to laugh. They were enjoying the hell out of themselves. He had no doubt they could guess what was really going on.
She crossed her arms, mimicking his stance. “Oh really? Look, asshole, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t give a damn. But let me make this perfectly clear. I do what I want, when I want. No one, including some man I don’t even know, is going to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
She had spirit. Darrold had said as much, and it was true. What woman would stay in a strange town by herself if she didn’t have spirit? But right now, her spirit wasn’t helping. Spirit was a good thing except when it came back at him in an effort to defy him.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Faster than she could have anticipated, he grabbed hold of her legs and yanked. She let out a yelp as she fell backward. If he hadn’t yanked her to him, she would’ve hit her head on the bar. Instead, she fell right into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her safe as he pulled her luscious body against his. The sensation that had grown stronger with every passing minute sped up, spinning uncontrollably through him. If she wasn’t his mate, if this wasn’t the connection he was feeling, then he didn’t know his own fucking name.
For long enough to matter, she didn’t fight him. Instead, she pushed her hands against his chest and leaned backed to study him. Her light green eyes held his as her eyebrows darted between her eyes. She studied him as hard as he studied her.