by Lyn Brittan
“Well, I—”
Belinda flipped her hair and shot her a sideways look. “I don’t know, Johanna. You need to be careful with those Hit It and Quit It types. Sometimes they take advantage of women like you. They can sense desperation.”
Tony sucked in air but didn’t exactly lunge to her defense. As for Belinda, that woman had a lot of nerve. She’d slept her way to the top and everyone knew it. Not that anyone could do anything about it. In addition to her good looks and her money, she was also brilliant and doing a better than decent job of things. She was just a bitch. Like Kate.
Under those circumstances, the lying felt even better. “Why do you think he moved here? Like he said, he left his family’s fortune when I broke it off. They didn’t accept me. I guess I never expected him to really do it.”
“I see.” Belinda’s hawkish eyes narrowed
Tony attempted to high-five her, but she didn’t meet him halfway. Blessedly, the late lunch crowd poured in, just as she ran short of patience and out of material. What would happen when they found out the truth? Who knew? But for now, this Monday ranked number one of all time.
Chapter Three
Baron had come to this town to unscrew his life and start fresh. Dating wasn’t on the menu and yet, something about this woman messed with his head. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since seeing her this morning.
He left the realtor’s office and shoved his hands into his pockets as he strode down the semi-crowded streets of a picture perfect New England town. Women stopped in their tracks, a few bold ones waved, but he hardly spared them a passing glance. His focus centered on a curvy haired woman with a wide smile. She wasn’t his type and he definitely had a type: blonde, thin and loud.
Johanna was nothing like the last woman he’d gotten caught up with. For one, she ate. But she also had a kindness and cleverness about her that kept him intrigued.
And her scent!
The doggone woman smelled like home. Not in the usual ways – no pine or sawdust – but something deep and personal. It ought to have freaked him out, but even the memory of her scent soothed his hackles.
Scenting out a mate ranked right up there with winning the lottery. Sure it happened, but never to anyone he’d met.
Except for his little brother.
And a cousin.
And that guy he went to high school with who had a turtle tattoo on his face.
Hmm…
If it could happen to those numbskulls, why not him?
On the off chance that’s what this was, he wasn’t about to screw it up. He ran home, changed and rushed to meet Johanna at the office at five in the most non-stalkerish way he could think of. It took all of two seconds to justify it. He didn’t feel like walking around town with his nose to the ground to find her apartment, nor had she given him her number. She had a reservedness about her and he didn’t trust her not to wimp out.
Honestly, the only reasonable option was lounging against a lamppost and waiting for her to leave work. He liked to call this Wolf Logic.
He started waving the second she stepped outside.
Johanna’s eyes widened and she jumped back, but he scented surprise, not apprehension. Good.
“You’re being a creeper, Mr. Baron Wyatt.”
“I didn’t think you’d show.” He angled his arm so she could loop hers through. The sweet thing wore a sleeveless blue sundress, one that had no chance of obscuring her ample bosom. He hadn’t anticipated the ferocity with which heat popped off her skin and into his. Apparently, neither had she. She tried to pull back, but he folded his arm down and snapped his teeth. “Gotcha.”
“Creeper.”
“Why’s that? Because I see something I like and I don’t want it to get away?”
“I have your number. You forced it on me, remember?”
“You wouldn’t have used it.”
“You don’t know that.” But her smile slipped. She recovered it quickly enough, but not so fast that he didn’t spot the doubt there.
“I’m going to enjoy proving myself worthy of you, Ms. Johanna.”
She snorted – actually snorted – and grinned. “I look forward to seeing you try.”
“Now that, I do believe.”
The buzzer went off behind them as another group of workers left for the day. Whatever reservations she might have had about him paled under the scrutiny of company. Johanna leaned into him when the bitchy Belinda swooped in.
“Hiya, Baron. Came back to see me? We should talk. I’ve heard so little about you.”
“I’m a private man.”
“Don’t be. A few of us are going out for drinks. Would you like to join us?”
He took a moment to reset the scene: Middle of town, people going by and he could have heard a friggin’ pin drop. He and Johanna may have been the wolves, but her coworkers hovered like a committee of bloodthirsty vultures.
“No, thank you,” Johanna said, voice muzzled by his side.
“Exactly. No way would we miss this opportunity and thank you for asking.” He dropped her arm in exchange for her waist – definite upgrade – and half pushed, half dragged her along. He sniffed again, catching more than anger, but fear. What the hell? “Johanna—”
“I didn’t exactly correct what you told them.” She said it in a voice just for his ears.
“Right. So, we’ve dated for some time then?”
“You started it and I’m sorry. Okay? When we sit down, we can pretend it was a joke that got out of hand.”
“That’s your plan?”
“Do you have a better one?”
He pulled her close and accidently brushed his lips against her ear.
Then he accidently flicked his tongue across the top of it.
And bit the lobe. Accidently.
He should stop this. The logical part of him knew that, but damn him, he enjoyed her. Life had dealt him a string of messed up cards. This might be the first good hand he’s had in ages.
“I think we should put on a good show for your boss.”
“No!”
“C’mon? When was the last time you had fun? I need fun. I’ve left behind my pack and my family for this new town. I don’t know anyone here. I’m about to sign a loan for a crap ton of money and the one bright spot I have, is that my lips are touching you. Don’t you want them to touch you?”
“No.”
“Liar. I can smell it. I could pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and kiss you until…”
“I have mace. And a knife.”
“I’m a wolf.”
“So am I.”
“See? This is fun.”
He bit back a smile at another one of her cute snorts.
Wait. Cute? He’d never described anything as cute a day in his life. Ugh! She kept this up and she’d have him giggling on the phone with his sisters. If this was a mating AND if this was what mating did to a man, it sucked.
“You’re being a real champ about this. Thanks, Baron.” She squeezed his arm to her chest and shot him a smile that was…well…cute.
He didn’t tell her that, a wolf had his pride, but he didn’t even try to wipe the smile from his face. Then again, neither did she.
The group crossed a final street and dipped into an Irish themed sports pub. This could have been an opportunity to scope out his competition, but the inquisition started the second his left ass cheek hit the chair.
Belinda slid out of her business jacket. She did it with all the grace of a black widow shedding her shell. “So how did you two meet again?”
He kept it quick. “Back home.”
“But this is her home.”
“My home. Montana.”
“Interesting. She’s never mentioned Montana before, or even you at all. I wonder why that is.”
“She’s mentioned a thing or two about you, lady. So far as I can tell, they’re all true.”
The bitch blinked like a deer in headlights, while Johanna side-kicked him beneath the table. He
laid off, but didn’t break eye contact with Belinda, daring her to say something else.
She didn’t. The woman’s menu snapped open to shield her face. Belinda didn’t speak again until the waiter arrived and she ordered drinks for the now silent table.
Baron tossed a finger in the air before the waiter pulled away and pointed to Johanna. “She hasn’t had a chance to tell you what she wanted.”
Belinda shushed him. “I ordered a round of margaritas for the table. You’re welcome.”
He wasn’t used to being shushed.
He didn’t like being shushed.
He wouldn’t stand to be shushed. Especially not by her.
“Yes, but Johanna didn’t order what she wanted. Dear?”
“Rum and cola.”
Belinda’s eyes crinkled. She tapped table, obviously determined to cement her place at the head of it. In an obnoxiously loud whisper, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want a diet drink? You’ve been working on that last twenty pounds for ages.”
Oh, hell no.
“What did you say to her?”
“It’s fine, Baron.”
Belinda shimmied back into her seat and rested her elbows on the table. “I didn’t mean anything by it. But you’ve…well…you know…”
“Then why did you say it?”
“She’s my boss,” Johanna whispered.
“Quit,” he shot right back, answering on the same nonhuman level. After sending the waiter away with an updated order of two rum and colas, he waited for Belinda to apologize but apparently, this wasn’t in the cards.
It put him in a weird situation. It wasn’t his place to set some woman straight for a woman he’d just met. He had an overwhelming urge to protect Johanna and yet, an intense desire to see her stand up for herself. She could take out any one of them. Where was her wolf?
Belinda flipped her hair and cackled out a thin laugh. “You’re so sensitive. But, um, for the sake of conversation, can you better explain how it was that you two—”
“Excuse us.” He rose without waiting for a response, pulled out Johanna’s chair and led her to the bar area. “If I stay, it’ll be bad. I’m sorry if what I said puts you in a weird position, but that woman is a piece of work.”
“I know and thank you.”
He caught the waiter and grabbed their drinks from his tray. “These two are separate. I’ll be sick if I owe that woman anything.” He took a long swig before addressing Johanna again. “I’m happy to hear you don’t hate me.”
Johanna took three massive gulps of her own. “Well, you’re not Belinda.”
“That’s not setting the bar too high. Why do you let her talk to you like that?”
“She signs the checks.” Another gulp.
“I’m pretty sure a corporate office in NYC signs them. You want to slow down there?”
Another long swig. “Nope and same difference.” She winked at him, took his glass from his hands and started drinking it.
“I’m so pissed that I can’t even bring up how hot you are working that straw. And you just stole my drink. Add that to the list of reasons I hate your boss. How can you shrug her off?”
“My mother’s like that. And my sister. Well, one of them. The other was smart enough to leave as soon as she could. After a while, you get used to people telling you what to do.”
“A lack of self-worth ain’t attractive.”
Johanna’s chin dropped to her chest. The pretty thing’s whole face fell. She picked the skin around her nails and looked as if she wanted to jump into her glass. Great. He was acting no better than the rest of them. That look on her face had to go. Why couldn’t she understand how much power she had? There wasn’t a single thing on Earth more powerful than a she-wolf. He just had to help her figure that out. “You need to learn how to take control.”
“It’s fine. Really, it is.”
“Tell you what. You get to tell me what to do. Your way, your rules.”
She blinked, shook her head and blinked again. “What does that mean?”
“Calm down. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not trying to get chained and have my balls squashed. I’m just saying that I know I came on heavy and from here on out, you lead the way.”
“You still want to do this? Even after all this craziness?”
“That I started? Do you remember why I started it? Because you smell like something that deserves to be licked from head to toe.”
“So do it. Right now. Right here.”
It’d been a long time since a woman had him choking on his words. He could already picture it. Still, now wasn’t the best time. “There’s no way that you’re already drunk.”
“I know that.”
“But you’re not exactly sober either. You’re just buzzed enough to go sit at that table and let Belinda know you’re not afraid of her.”
“Lick. Me.”
“Baby, I hear what you’re staying, but I think I need you one hundred percent sober when I do.”
She sat straight up, ordered a tequila shot and downed it in the span of thirty seconds. “You’re a liar. You told me you’d do whatever I asked.”
“Annnnnd you’re done.” Baron tabbed out and eased the last drink out of her hands. She didn’t exactly fight him, but he had to pry her fingers off the glass one by one. “We should go.”
“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.”
“Johanna, I’m not sure it’ll be as effective with you slurring your words and stuff.”
“But you said—”
“My bad. That was a tequila ago and I think your fourth rum is finally catching up with you.”
“No ssss’not.”
He ignored her zombie shuffle and eased them over to the table where the praying mantis held court. All conversation stopped at their arrival. Only Belinda dared look him in the eye.
“We weren’t sure if you were coming back. We figured you needed some alone time and ordered without you. Tony, go get the waiter.”
“Don’t bother. We’re leaving.” Baron hoped everything about his expression told Belinda she could fuck off. Lines clearly drawn in the sand, he escorted a giggling Johanna out the door.
“I don’t want to go home. And…and…you promised to do what I want. I want to go out. Take me to the club down the street. I want to dance. I never dance. Ten minutes. That’s it. What’s the harm in ten minutes?”
No harm for her, seeing as how he carried her drunk tail all the way over. He needed to take her home, but she laughed with such abandon that he couldn’t stand the loss of ending it.
Maybe it was good they got this out of the way now, because he learned something very important over the next half hour.
She should never, ever, ever, dance again. Horrible. The worst. Her jerky movements were so god-awful that the only decent thing to do was swipe her phone and record the whole catastrophe from start to finish. Yet, even as the little light blinked red, she kickstepped and running-manned her way into his heart. When she turned around to do something that might be mistaken for twerking if he squinted hard enough, he deleted the recording. She looked too happy for him to embarrass her with this later on.
Johanna sashayed her way off the dance floor with a lopsided grin and melted into the chair beside him. “This is fun. Where are we going next time?”
Certainly not dancing. “I’m just glad there is a next time. I hope you remember tomorrow.”
“I’m actually not drunk. Well, not anymore. Ish.”
“Ish?”
“The dancing helped. And the gallons of water you’ve been forcing my way. Work is going to suck tomorrow.” She slid further and further into the chair until just her head was visible above the table.
“Ditto. I start renovations.”
She popped straight up, mouth hanging open. Lobster red was only way to describe her face. “Of course you do! This whole night has been about me. I’m so freaking rude. I do want to hear about it. You must think I’m the worst pe
rson ever.”
“No. I’ve met her. Her name’s Belinda.”
Johanna snorted into her glass of water and traced the rim. “No you haven’t. Her name’s Kate. Hey, pick me up for lunch at two and tell me about your renovations. Those are my orders.”
“Done.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll always come when you call.”
Chapter Four
She woke up the same way she’d fallen asleep, thinking about Baron Wyatt. He’d been the perfect gentleman, driving her home and leaving her with a chaste peck on the cheek. Something about him…
And his scent…
And the hardness of what pressed against her belly when he gave her that kiss, told her chaste pecks weren’t to be considered routine. She swore to herself that the drinking wouldn’t be either. She knew she’d be safe with him, physically at least, but the only way to protect her heart was to stay perfectly sober. Too many times last night she’d almost believed their charade had been real.
She’d play it smarter today.
It took five cups of coffee and eight hundred dog years to find something to wear. It needed to be business appropriate, but hot for her lunch date. Even more important was what she’d wear underneath. Pickings were slim: Granny Panties, Period Panties, Holey Panties and Panties with Questionable Teddy Bears.
Going commando wasn’t an option. Just thinking about the man did things to her.
Wet things…and she wasn’t alone in this. It’d been impossible to miss the desire cascading off Tony, Belinda and the other girls for Baron.
“Baron.” She said his name aloud, tingling at the way it rolled off her tongue. Felt natural. The man was a rare creature – a wolf, without an attitude. One willing to cede power.
For the first time in ages, she didn’t begin her workday with a sense of dread. Even having to take a cab to the office didn’t bother her. What would her coworkers think about that?
Did it matter?
Nope.
Well…
No!
What mattered was that she’d met a man willing to make her smile. When she looked at him, excuses sorta fell away. All muscle, dark hair and midnight eyes, he looked like the kind of guy who worked his way through women. Maybe he was.