Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 5
Displaced Cowboys
Terra Benson is having a serious crisis of judgment. First, she inexplicably runs away from her twenty-first birthday party. Next, she not only picks up a sexy, hitchhiking cowboy, but she rescues another one found near the road after a strange wolf attack. On top of all that, while suffering from a mysterious fever that has her experiencing all-new meanings of the word “hot,” she takes Connor Darach and Nash Walden to a motel room. There, the most shocking secret she learns is not that her cowboy strangers are werewolves. They are werewolves with a lust for being bound.
Terra discovers that the biggest freedom of all is in being tied, but she must deal with fallout from her past before she can step into the future. And when the threesome’s passion is threatened by a huntress set on revenge, Terra and her werewolf heroes must fight for survival in order to fulfill their desire to be bound.
Note: This book is written in one point of view.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Western/Cowboys
Length: 60,369 words
DISPLACED COWBOYS
Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 5
J. Rose Allister
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
DISPLACED COWBOYS
Copyright © 2012 by J. Rose Allister
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-908-1
First E-book Publication: December 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DISPLACED COWBOYS
Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 5
J. ROSE ALLISTER
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
This was just about the stupidest idea Terra had ever had, second only to a fateful night three years prior. Now, as her new car plunged deeper into the winding mountains, images of that night replayed in wicked flashes that drove sweat from her palms.
God, her parents were probably having the fit of their lives right about now, and after all they’d been through, she couldn’t blame them. Guilt settled over her at the thought, weighing almost as heavily as the oppressive shroud of concern she’d felt from everyone around her. That cloying weight had suffocated her until she’d wanted to scream. Instead, she’d run. She needed a chance to breathe and to just be without measuring eyes following her every move. Still, fleeing was stirring volatile memories that evoked a gut-wrenching fear that tore at her resolve to be free. She should do the safe, sane thing and turn around. Pull over, at least, and reassess the rash decision to run away from nothing more heinous than her own birthday party.
She kept driving.
The bends and turns beneath her wheels morphed into an ugly, hissing snake that threatened to strike and send her skittering off the road and into the woods. Her foot shot from the gas pedal onto the brake, and she feathered it gently while she fought against the hot rush of panic flooding her abdomen. She shouldn’t be here, wherever here was. The GPS on her phone told her she was riding Highway 3, going east. A glimpse outside her window showed nothing but pine trees, the swell of mountains, and clouds that threatened the midsummer afternoon sky. The windshield speckled with a light mist that added to the feeling of impending doom clutching at her throat.
Her phone erupted in a frantic twitter, and she jerked in alarm. The heat in her face flared enough to cause a prickle of sweat on her brow, and Terra pressed the button to lower her window several inches. Moist, chill mountain air flew in, crisp and soothing. She breathed in the mist and glanced at the phone. Thoughts of ignoring it again evaporated with a sigh, and she punched up the call.
“Terra?” asked a panicked voice. “Where are you? We’ve been worried sick!”
“I’m fine, Mom. I told you, I just needed to get some air.”
“Why? What did we do? I thought you were enjoying your party.”
“You didn’t do anything. I just couldn’t breathe with all those people gawking at me.”
“Those people are your friends. They care about you.”
Terra couldn’t help letting out a bitter snort. “You mean they were my friends. They don’t even know me anymore. They went on and lived their lives. And I want to live mine.”
There was a brief silence, which Terra used to focus on easing her car around a tight curve that hugged the mountain as if life depended on it. Which it did, really. Especially with the weather turning foul.
“I don’t understand what this is about, Terra. I thought you’d be happy to see some old faces again. Was it too much, too soon?”
Her eyes rolled. “No. It’s not enough and too late.”
Another curve came rushing up, and she gasped at the sudden illusion that her car was hurtling toward it at top speed. In truth, the speedometer read a mere thirty miles per hour. Her hands ached from white-knuckling the wheel and from the cold air pouring
in. Worse, the wind whipped her hair around her eyes, hampering her vision.
“Look, I have to go.”
“Are you driving, Terra?”
Terra rolled her eyes. “You saw me leave in the car.”
“But you answered the phone while you’re actually driving?”
“I’m on speakerphone.”
“Pull over now and tell me where you are, honey. Let Dad come pick you up.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I just need to be alone. Please understand.”
A swipe of her cramped fingers on the touch screen ended the call while her mother was still protesting. Tears burned her eyes, marring the view out the window just as the moisture hitting the windshield grew into solid drops. She hit the wiper button and tried to let the mechanical whir of the blades dull the sound of her pounding heart.
How could her mother understand Terra’s meltdown when she didn’t herself? Her dramatic exit had been ridiculous, as was hanging up on the poor woman. What the hell was wrong with her? She should be happy—deliriously grateful. Instead, she’d felt some powerful compulsion to jump into the car her parents had just given her and escape to points unknown. It was as though she was late for some vital appointment with destiny. But there was no such appointment. Destiny had come and gone three years ago. All she was doing now was rushing away from something to head toward nothing.
She still kept driving.
A hairpin curve loomed before her, and with tears blurring her eyes, it was getting harder to see where the hell she was going. Her heart raced while she tried to blink back the moisture and get some depth perception. She pumped the brakes as hard as she dared on a road growing slick with new rainfall, and the car eased to a crawl.
That’s when she saw him.
The cowboy sat on the side of the road, perched atop a pair of duffel bags that probably contained his entire world. A scrap of dampening cardboard in his hand read Out of work, need a lift in a hasty scrawl. His hat was tugged low and the collar of his duster pulled high to ward against the steadily increasing mist, but she could still make out a determined jaw and wary eyes that turned hopeful when he caught sight of her car. What the hell was he doing, trying to hitch a ride from the middle of nowhere? She hadn’t spotted another car for ages.
His eyes found hers and latched on with an intensity that brought the heat back to her cheeks. No doubt he’d misinterpreted her hitting the brakes as a sign she was actually going to stop for him.
Sure enough, he stood up as she drew level.
“Shit,” she muttered, blinking at the disorienting feel of those eyes on her. Hell, no, she didn’t pick up strangers. She’d been lunatic enough for one day.
With a shake of her head, she stepped on the gas and left him behind. As she passed, she thought she caught an odd glow in his gaze. Her attention turned quickly back to the road and the tricky curves ahead, though frequent glances in her rearview mirror showed an unsettling image of the cowboy still standing there, staring after her.
“Yeah right, buddy,” she muttered at the reflection, which grew distorted with the rain battering her back window.
All that rain, and he was standing out in it. His rising hopes were even now being dashed to bits because she’d paused, then taken off again and left him there. He’d probably catch pneumonia, too. And it would be her fault.
She heaved a deep sigh as she stopped the car. The wipers swept against the glass as she stared into the mirror, marveling at how easy it had been to let her final piece of sanity snap.
Terra craned her neck around, steadying herself with a hand on the passenger-side headrest that was about to lose its vacancy. “I’m going to regret this,” she said while she cranked the car into reverse. “I am so going to regret this.”
It was with little grace that she managed to navigate the winding turn backward to pull alongside the still-standing man. She lowered the passenger window partway, but engaged the door locks when he leaned down to peer inside. Oh, hell, those heavy-lidded eyes were pure trouble, and not in an I’m-a-psycho-about-to-abduct-you way. What was it about cowboys that took hold of her stomach like a shepherd’s hook? Tight chaps and Stetsons even invaded her dreams.
She swallowed. “Where do you need a lift to, cowboy?”
His casual shrug wasn’t what she’d expected from a man who was probably eager to get out of cold, wet nature. “How far you goin’, ma’am?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” she said, wondering why she was admitting this to him. “And I’m even less sure I want company along for the ride.”
He nodded, his probing stare weighted with an understanding of her situation that hardly seemed possible. “I don’t mean to trouble you,” he said in a drawl that sent the word sexy careening around her mind. “But as far as you could take me before nightfall would suit me mighty fine.”
She cocked her head at him. “You’re not going to make me sorry I let you into my car, are you?”
The surprisingly electric smile that broke out over his damp face slid right over the knot in her stomach. “Oh, no, ma’am. I sorely hope not.”
Even mostly hidden by his hat and coat, the guy was gorgeous. He had the requisite cleft chin, shadowy stubble, and measuring eyes that appeared to have tumbled straight out of her numerous cowboy fantasies. Damn. That was it, wasn’t it? She was getting suckered in by a pair of pretty blue eyes and a Stetson worn at just the right angle to hint at a self-assured attitude, whether he was out on the range or in a woman’s bed. Not that she should be thinking about what he did in bed.
Hell, her hormones were raging as if they had just been released after a three-year imprisonment. Which wasn’t far from the truth.
“I can’t blame you for bein’ nervous,” he went on. “A woman alone would be crazy not to think twice about pickin’ up strays in these parts.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Of course I’m nervous. I’ve never stopped for a stranger before. You might be planning to kidnap or rob me.”
He slid his hat higher on his head. “Well, now, I’d be lyin’ if I didn’t admit a man would be crazy not to want to keep you. But I wouldn’t rob you of a thing you didn’t happily hand over.”
The amused twinkle accompanying the words only added to the churning in her stomach. Drive away, she told herself. Apologize and go. She should trust her twisting gut, not her twisted libido.
God, she thought, it was hot in this damned car. Hot and, yes, she couldn’t deny the sensation churning low in her pelvis. She was horny as hell. That was really why she’d stopped for the hottie, wasn’t it? And a dumber reason than that she couldn’t possibly fathom.
So, it was settled, then. She would ignore the long lashes, the sexy quirk of his smile, and wait, were those gold flecks in his eyes? Holy eroticism, this man was the exact image of the cowboy straight out of her late-night fantasy land.
He flicked a glance at the steering wheel her fingers were numb from death-gripping. “Could be fate grabbed that wheel and made you stop,” he said. “Or you might just see an opportunity to do a good turn for someone in need.”
She swallowed back the bizarre urge to ask him just how much need he was in while she watched rain drip urgently from the brim of his hat.
“And while I sit here having my crisis of conscience, you’re getting all wet.” With a brief hesitation, she hit the button to pop the trunk. “You can stash your gear in back.”
He smiled and touched a long, capable finger to his wet hat. “Much obliged, ma’am.”
She waited while he grabbed his bags, and when she felt the resounding thunk as they were deposited inside, she couldn’t help but picture her common sense joining them. It certainly wasn’t in her head where it belonged.
Regret swelled in her chest the moment he shut himself in the car. The man was huge, and that was without the hat and coat he no longer wore. One might think the long duster and black hat would make him seem more intimidating, but the sight of him with nothing bulky to conceal his impressive body shot her i
nto high alert. Her attention ping-ponged back and forth between a tight black sweater stretched over all the right kinds of muscle and the sexy sheen of his wet, slicked-back hair. She stopped short of allowing her gaze free rein over his thick, powerful thighs, though. Sort of.
“Where’s your hat and coat?” she asked, not managing to disguise the alarm in her voice.
“In the trunk. Didn’t reckon you’d want my wet things ruinin’ your new car.” He leaned his head to peer around her at the window, and a dark swatch of the russet bangs he’d tried to tame back fell over his forehead. “Though it seems you don’t mind bein’ wet.”
She fixed him with a hard stare at that comment, but she saw nothing sordid in his expression. When she followed his gaze, she saw water beading up on the ledge of her door. More drops speckled her face as she turned to the open window, and the left sleeve of her fluffy white sweater was actively taking on water as well. She’d been so distracted by her break with sanity that she’d forgotten all about opening the window.
Her finger stabbed the button to raise it while her other arm brushed off her sleeve. “I needed some air. I was blazing and flushed a couple minutes ago.”
“In this weather?” He eyed her. “Maybe you’ve got the fever.”
“I don’t think I’m sick, but I’ll try not to breathe your way just in case.” She frowned at him. “How do you know this is a new car?” No doubt because she’d been driving like an idiot who’d barely gotten her license.
“It’s still got the dealer tags. Plus, that fresh-leather smell.”
Allister, J. Rose - Displaced Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 1