by Jane Jamison
“Really? So you’re already thinking of staying on for more than a few days? See? I knew West End’s allure would keep you here.” Reagan handed her a warm cup of coffee and settled into the porch swing beside her.
She hadn’t planned on staying more than a week, but after spending a wonderful night at Reagan’s, she didn’t want to leave anytime soon. Of course, meeting Bryton and Taylor had only added to the charm of the island. She couldn’t think in terms of anything permanent happening between them, but what was the harm in having a little fun?
Yeah. A little fun before my body gives out and I’m on my deathbed.
“Hey, are you all right?” Reagan shifted toward her, concern showing. “You looked kind of pale for a second. And sad. Really, really sad.”
Shelby shook off the worry. “What? No. I’m fine. In fact, I haven’t felt this fine in a long time. Which is why I’m thinking of staying a month or so.”
How long did she have? Not even the most powerful witch in her coven could say. The dark magic eating her from the inside out would take its course in its own time.
“That’s great. Seriously.” Reagan lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip. “I don’t want this to sound creepy or anything, but I’ve enjoyed having you stay with me. I think we could become good friends.” She made a face. “Sorry. Too much too soon?”
Shelby was touched. “No, not at all. And I get what you mean. Sometimes two people click, and that’s all it takes. So back to the question about renting. I know everything’s booked up right now, but they’ll be something opening up soon, right? After the tourists”—she smiled—“the other tourists go home?”
“Oh, sure. Once the season runs its course, you’ll have a ton of options. I’d ask you to stay on here indefinitely, but my friends will be back in another couple of weeks.”
“I couldn’t impose on you. Let’s hope two weeks gives me enough time.” If she couldn’t find a place by then, maybe her staying on the island wasn’t meant to be.
“Two weeks for what?”
Shelby sucked in a breath. She recognized the deep, rich voice. Trying to keep the unexpected joy from showing on her face, she composed herself then shifted her gaze toward the two handsome men striding toward the porch.
They were even better looking in the daylight. Both of them wore faded jeans and worn boots. Bryton had on a white shirt rolled up to his elbows that showed off his tan. She wondered if it was an all-over tan and hurriedly took another sip of her coffee to help her suddenly dry throat. Taylor, his smile as brilliant as it had been the night before, was the epitome of a sexy cowboy sporting a black T-shirt and jeans along with a black hat. Regardless of his dress, she was certain he was a good guy through and through.
Talk about making assumptions. I haven’t known them twenty-four hours and already I feel like I do know them.
“Two weeks for Shelby to find a rental house. She’s thinking of staying on the island for a month or so.” Reagan cupped her mug. “Longer if I can talk her into it.”
“Is that so?” Taylor bounded up the steps, his long, strong legs eating up the distance between them.
It was almost as though he was about to attack her—in a good way. Shelby pulled her legs up into the swinging chair and hugged them to her chest. “I’m going to check out my options is all.”
“But you must already like it here if you’re thinking of staying.” Bryton practically jumped onto the porch, almost as though he’d flown.
“Exactly what I just told her,” added Reagan.
“Not that it matters to you, but I think it’s a great idea. You won’t find a nicer place to live than West End.” Taylor shot her a knee-weakening smile.
“Hang on. I’ll still be a visitor, not a resident.” She didn’t want to commit to anything. How could she when she had no real future?
“Don’t push her, man.” Bryton leaned against the porch railing. “Just be thankful she’s thinking about it.”
Shelby inhaled, picking up the heady scent of sexual attraction. The men exuded sex appeal, but it was obvious from their rapt attention that they were interested in her and not Reagan. Only God knew why since Reagan was a drop-dead gorgeous woman. Was she taken? Had she asked? She made a mental note to ask later. If she did so right then, she’d sound as though she was trying to exclude a rival for their affection.
“Anyway,” drawled Reagan, “how about I give Horace Nordhard at Hopper Realty a call? I’ll ask him to keep a lookout for any rentals opening up soon.” Reagan stood, holding up her cup. “After I’m done with that, I can fetch you two a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks, but none for me.” Taylor didn’t even look at Reagan. “I’ve had my quota for the morning.”
“Same here. Thanks, though,” added Bryton.
A space of awkward silence followed.
“Okay, then, I know when I’m not needed.” Reagan stopped Shelby from protesting. “I’ll make a call to Horace right now. You stay put and keep the guys, um, entertained.”
“No, Reagan, wait.” Nonetheless, her friend shot her a wink and was gone, leaving her alone with men who made her body light up with fireworks.
“Don’t be afraid, sugar, we won’t bite,” reassured Bryton.
“I’m not.” Still, she felt silly for saying so.
“Although biting you would be a lot of fun.”
She had to take a sip then. Keeping her gaze with Taylor’s was an impossibility. If she could have, she might end up diving into those mesmerizing brown depths and never come out.
“Hey, baby, there’s something we’d like to talk to you about.”
“Oh.” She’d talk to them about anything simply to hear their voices. While Bryton’s was deep and sexy, Taylor’s voice had an edge to it that made her feel both safe and excited. Were they locals or had they once been visitors, too? So many questions came to mind. Suddenly, she wanted to know all she could about them.
“Yeah.” Bryton eased onto the swing next to her.
The fireworks bursting inside her picked up speed like a Fourth of July celebration nearing the spectacular end. She squirmed in her seat and felt the heat between her legs. Her “explosion” would rival any fireworks display. “Go ahead. Ask away.”
“Why don’t you like shifters?”
She’d expected almost any other question, but not one about shifters. Obviously, they’d heard—probably from Miranda—that she knew shifters were real. Or had she admitted it to the guys while dancing? Still, how they’d found out no longer mattered. She could deny both their existence and her dislike for shifters, but she didn’t like having to lie. Or she could refuse to discuss her reasons, stating it wasn’t any of their concern. For some reason, she couldn’t put her finger on, she felt they deserved a truthful response, one that included the truth about her.
She decided to dive right in, come burning hell or freezing water. “You believe they’re real, don’t you?”
They glanced at each other, but there was no surprise on either of their faces.
“We do,” answered Taylor.
Suddenly she wanted them to know, needed them to know about her. If they didn’t like what she was, then they’d go away and leave her alone. Alone with her hex. Alone without getting them involved in a future that wasn’t possible. “And I’m betting you know I’m a witch, too, don’t you?”
Their startled expressions surprised her. They hadn’t known. But why would Miranda tell them about one thing and not the other? Granted, the witch had promised she wouldn’t tell, but Shelby hadn’t actually believed she’d keep her promise.
“No, we didn’t know,” answered Bryton in a low-key tone.
She studied them. “But you know that witches and wizards are real, right?”
“We’ve lived in West End all our lives. Of course we do.”
“So is that why you don’t you like shifters? Not all witches hate shifters, you know.” Taylor nodded toward Bryton. “We know a lot of shifters, werewolves, werecats, werebirds
, and they all have the same human flaws and good traits we all have. There are good ones and bad ones just like other people. Being a shifter doesn’t change the basic personality of a person.”
“Yeah, sugar. So, again, what do you have against shifters?”
She felt trapped, yet she wouldn’t run. The part of her that feared them getting closer warred with the part of her that wanted them to get as close as possible. “I’m from New York City. We don’t have a lot of shifters there, but the ones I’ve met so far have been untrustworthy assholes.”
“Okay, then, sugar. Go on. Don’t hold back.”
Bryton might have been joking, but she was serious. “I was raised by a wizard and a witch. All my life, I’ve been told not to trust shifters. Yet, like any normal teenager, I rebelled and fell in love with a werewolf.” She paused, gauging their reactions.
“Go on, baby,” urged Taylor.
“Like I said, I fell head-over-heels in love. Or at least, I thought I was in love. But I found out soon enough that he didn’t love me back.” She cleared her throat. Although she’d told very few people about that time in her life, she wanted them to know. Strangely, she needed them to know. “Anyway, when I told him I was pregnant, he skipped town the next day.”
“Yeah, well, like I said. Shifters are like humans. There are asshole humans, and there are asshole shifters. He was one of the asshole shifters.”
Was Taylor trying to win her over? Or make excuses? “You’re getting defensive. Why?” She narrowed her eyes, suspicion hitting her. Could he be a shifter?
“I told you. We know a lot of shifters, both good and bad. I don’t like to see them grouped together as all bad.”
“Did you have the baby?” asked Bryton.
Was he changing the subject? Would he leave if she said she had? Should she test him? Yet why bother when she had no intentions of becoming serious with him or anyone else? “No, it was a false alarm. I found out right after he’d already raced out of town an hour after I’d told him I might be pregnant. He couldn’t even wait twenty-four hours before he got the hell out.”
“I guess the joke was on him then,” quipped Bryton.
“Maybe. But the point is this. I learned a valuable lesson. I learned that my parents were right and that I should’ve listened to them. I vowed to never trust another shifter from that day on.”
“Sugar, you’re not being fair. How can you blame all shifters for the actions of just one? So you’d never consider even being friends with a shifter?”
Irritation flared inside her. She glared at Bryton, unwilling to hear him stick up for any shifter. “Maybe when hell freezes over.”
“What about vampires? Do you like vampires?”
Taylor’s question threw her. “I don’t know, but I don’t think I would. I’ve met a few, but I’ve never really gotten to know one. They always seemed so cold and distant, unapproachable. Why? Are you two vampires?”
Bryton jolted backward. “What you see is what you get with us. Two handsome, studly island cowboys. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a vampire. We know a few of those, too.” He glanced at Taylor. “They are a few good ones.”
“Bryton.”
Why was Taylor warning him? Still, she didn’t see the point in arguing.
“I think we should change the subject.”
She barely had time to set her coffee cup down before Taylor grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “How about we borrow some horses and go for a ride?”
“Because I don’t know how to ride. I’m from New York City, remember?” Yet the idea of riding had always appealed to her. What would it feel like to have the power of a huge animal between her legs? She looked to the men. What would it be like to have a different kind of animal between her legs? A huge man of an animal? She jerked her attention away from their crotches.
“Um, yeah. I’d liked to learn to ride.” She sounded as shaken up as she felt. Hell’s bells.
“Then it’s about time you learned.” Bryton’s previous serious mood was gone as he led the way down the steps. “We’ll take you to the cliff and see if we can spot any orcas.”
“Shouldn’t we ask Reagan first?”
“Nah.” Bryton led the way into the barn. “She won’t mind.”
Shelby glanced back at the house, unsure about not asking. Reagan, however, stood at a window and lifted her hand and waved. “Well, okay. If you’re sure she won’t mind.”
“I’m sure.”
Did that mean they’d taken other women riding? Of course, she wouldn’t care if they had. Everyone had a past, but not all of them had a future.
So why did her stomach suddenly tighten?
* * * *
Physically, Shelby Winters was everything Taylor and Bryton had said she was. J.B. hunkered down in the tree line several yards away from Reagan’s home. He’d watched the exchange and seen how attracted the men were to her. Judging by her body language, she wanted them, too, but she was holding back.
Did she already have a mate she hadn’t mentioned? Was she leery about getting personal with two men so fast? Either reason made perfect sense. He didn’t think he’d read her wrong. She was definitely interested. Still, his wolfish instinct couldn’t help but think there was some other reason for her standoffishness.
I should’ve gone with them, as a human.
Instead, he’d chosen to get a view of her from a distance. Was she a witch? Even with his sensitive wolf hearing, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Sometimes she acted as though she couldn’t wait to get closer to them. Then, suddenly, she’d back off like a skittish colt. A witch might be nervous around them, especially around Taylor being a hybrid werewolf-vampire. Then again, usually witches weren’t timid about much of anything.
He studied her closer. Miranda hadn’t said anything about her being a witch. Then again, Miranda tended to run her mouth about some things while clamming up about other things. Did Shelby know Reagan was a werewolf? Would she care if she did? Witches, especially ones not born on the island, were unpredictable.
He growled out his frustration then ducked lower when she glanced in his direction. He’d stick close and make sure Taylor and Bryton were all right. If she’d already placed a spell on them, then he’d be the clearheaded one to some way, somehow, get them out of her spell.
Then, just as he figured the conversation was about over, the guys started heading for the barn. She trailed behind but soon picked up the pace, her face alight with her excitement.
What the fuck?
They were supposed to talk to her then find him and tell him what had gone down. Instead, they were going inside the barn. Knowing Bryton, he’d probably talked her into riding to the cliff.
Bullshit on that.
By the time he’d shifted and made it to the side of the barn to peek around the edge, they were busy saddling up three horses. Taylor helped the pretty woman into the saddle then began to lead both their horses out of the barn.
Fuck.
J.B. ducked away, hurrying around the side of the barn as he shifted back into his wolf form.
Chapter Four
“This is beautiful.” Although the ride out to the cliff hadn’t taken very long, Shelby was glad to be getting off the horse. Her bottom was already growing sore from bouncing up and down.
“Was the ride a little rough?” asked Taylor as he stood next to her near the cliff’s edge.
“No. I’m okay. Why do you ask?” She had a rough time trying to decide which to watch. The two hot men or the mesmerizing expanse of blue ocean.
“Because you’re rubbing your butt.”
She caught herself doing exactly that and jerked her hand back. “Okay, I admit it. I didn’t know riding could be so hard on the rear end.”
Bryton, who had tied up the reins of the horses to a nearby tree far from the cliff’s edge, joined them, a blanket tugged under his arm. “It’s not. Once you learn how to sit a saddle, it won’t be half as rough. You’ll learn to le
t your body go with your horse’s movements.”
She rubbed her other butt cheek, catching herself once again. “If you say so.” Yet she doubted she’d have more opportunities to ride. Either leaving West End or becoming too weak to sit a saddle would happen first.
“What’s wrong?” Taylor’s worry tinged his voice. “You look sad.”
She snapped out of the momentary pity party and smiled. “Do I? I’m fine. Just fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong.” Had she tried too hard to convince them? She turned her attention back to the water. “Did you say we could see whales from here?”
“Sometimes.” Bryton flipped the blanket out then settled it on the ground. He took her hand and helped her sit down. “It depends on where the pods are running.”
“Pods? That’s like a family of whales, right?”
“Right. If we’d thought to bring binoculars, we could point out individual whales and tell you their names. From here, all we’ll be able to make out are that they’re orcas.”
“Like the rest of us, orcas tend to stick with their families.”
She sensed Bryton staring at her. “Are families important to you?”
“Sure. How about you?” What was he getting at?
“I guess so.”
“You guess so? Do you have family?” She felt safer asking the questions than answering them.
“My parents are all I have. No brothers or sisters. They’re still back in the city, but we don’t speak much. No real reason why.” After her pregnancy scare, she and her parents had grown distant. Once she’d moved out of the house, the chasm between them had grown wider. Unless someone from her coven had told them, they probably didn’t know about the dark wizard and his spell.
“But you want kids, right? Say four or five?”
“I used to.” She’d stopped thinking in terms of a future, including having children. Sadness threatened to swamp her.