by Anna Lowe
The last bit of the tunnel crumbled in on itself, and he could swear the voice of fate hissed through the din.
There, wolf, it seemed to say. Your second chance.
Yeah, he got the message. Make something of it, asshole. Or else.
It was at exactly that second that Carly raced into view. She crested the little rise that opened into that area and promptly hit the brakes.
“Whoa,” she murmured, staring at him.
And just like that, he was back in a tunnel again — but a good one, with him at one end and Carly at the other, both of them bathed in golden light. His heart beat faster, and he caught a breath, savoring the clean, clear air.
The woman who laughed in the face of danger actually looked worried for a moment. She hurried toward him, touching his shoulders, checking him, whispering—
Then she pulled up short, scowled — and, bam! Reality hit him all over again.
She didn’t want him. He’d never get the happy ending that had briefly teased his soul.
He rolled onto his stomach and coughed into the dirt for a good five minutes. Hands smacked his back, and it took him a while to figure out they weren’t furious with him.
“Good job, man.”
“Close call.”
“Are you nuts?” Carly added, stooping beside him.
Funny to hear the local daredevil ask him that.
The ruckus settled down eventually, and he got as far as sitting up before his back screamed for him to stop. So he paused and looked around. At Carly. At the rubble blocking the aqueduct completely.
Holy shit.
“You okay?” Cody leaned over, studying him.
Luke looked past Cody to where Ty Hawthorne hugged his daughter.
“Don’t be mad, Daddy,” she cried.
“I’m not mad, muffin.” The alpha’s arms shook, and the one area of his face that wasn’t smudged with dirt was pale. “I’m just scared to death.”
“But nothing scares you, Daddy. Nothing.”
The big alpha just hugged her tighter and held her to his chest.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Lana Hawthorne said, patting Luke on the back.
He was sure her mate would jump between them if he saw that, but when Ty’s eyes cracked open, there was no malice in them. Just gratitude. He nodded — just once, but it was enough.
Thank you, that nod said.
Luke looked away before the alpha went back to his usual distrusting scowl.
“Are you okay?” Cody repeated.
But his voice sounded far away, like everyone else. Spots danced in front of Luke’s eyes, and the only thing he could really focus on was Carly. He searched her eyes for the flash of concern he’d seen before. The sparkle of interest.
And, zing! There it was, a spark of gold in her bright blue eyes.
“Yeah,” he nodded, choking on his words. Yeah, he was okay now.
Chapter Ten
Never in a hundred adventures and misadventures had Carly’s heart beat as frantically as it did then. Not even in the closest of her close calls. Her heart was skipping, pounding, heaving at the idea of Luke so close to certain death.
Mate! her wolf wailed. Mate!
She’d just about bowled Cody over in her rush to get to Luke’s side, and it was only when she got there that she hit the brakes — just in time to avoid hugging him to her chest.
Whoa. Wait a second. What was she doing, rushing up to him like that?
He’s our mate, her wolf cried. Our mate could have died.
She tried shaking her head. She didn’t have a mate.
Then how did we know something was wrong from so far away?
That one, she didn’t have an answer for. And it was hard to kid herself with her heart still jackhammering in her chest. She really had sensed Luke’s distress from all the way across the ranch. She’d run as fast as she could, and instinct had brought her right to the aqueduct.
Instinct brought us to our mate, her wolf said.
“Come here, sweetie,” Lana said, peeling Tana away from Ty and hugging her daughter tightly. “Let’s go home.”
Within minutes, everyone filed away, focused entirely on the kids. Which left Carly alone with Luke. She wanted to take off before the same overwhelming urge to touch him set in as it had that night they’d met in the bar. But, shit. She wanted to stay, too.
Can’t leave him now! Not when he’s hurt.
“You okay?” She couldn’t help it — she put her hand on his back. A big mistake, as it turned out, because, zing! Even that contact made her body sing.
Careful, her wolf cried. Mate is hurt.
When Cody had dusted him off, Luke had winced. Now, he was just about swaying on his feet.
“Perfect,” Luke muttered just as his knees buckled.
She slid her arm around his torso and propped him up. “Right. Sure.”
Well, he is perfect, her wolf murmured, feeling the hard bulk of him flex.
“I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth. His eyes were closed as if the world might be spinning in his mind.
“Right,” she said, adjusting her grip. “Come this way, Superman.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
She guided him along far more gently than she meant to. The heat of his body crept over to hers, and no matter how hard she tried to pretend she didn’t notice, she did.
It felt good. Comforting. Right.
He exhaled and relaxed under her grip. Was he thinking the same thing?
Boy, was destiny playing some mean tricks. Like inundating her with his musky scent. Like giving him that lost puppy look she sometimes spied when he let his guard down.
His guard is down because he’s with us, her wolf said. He trusts us.
Well, she sure as hell didn’t trust him — or herself.
She did some quick calculating. There was no way she could abandon Luke at that shack he’d been staying in. And no matter how she was tempted to bring him to the place she was staying in — Tina’s old place — she wasn’t about to succumb and do that. But the little adobe guest house was empty, and it had just what Luke needed — a shower and a nice cozy bed.
A nice big bed. Her wolf nodded eagerly.
All we’re doing is helping him get there. This big, bad wolf can handle the rest on his own.
Our big, bad wolf, her inner beast sighed.
She steered him down the hill and across the ranch. The setting sun cast a rich, golden glow over the scene, but her focus was on the layer of dust and sweat caking Luke’s skin.
My poor mate. My poor mate, her wolf kept fretting.
Part of her hoped Aunt Jean or someone else would appear, cluck over Luke, and insist on caring for him. But everyone had gone off to check the kids, and the ranch was quiet. So quiet, she could hear destiny whispering from across the plains.
This is no accident. This man is your mate.
She bit her lip. If only the contact didn’t feel so good. So right. If only her soul didn’t skip and sing from holding him close.
“Almost there,” she murmured, forcing herself to take long, even breaths. The longer she spent with Luke pressed against her side, the more her wolf threatened to take over, and who knew where that might lead?
They wound past the old barn that had been converted into a community hall and past the gnarled old juniper that she’d climbed as a kid. And she found herself itching to tell Luke about each little landmark, each different place.
Every time I got to visit the ranch when I was little, I used to jump between those tree stumps. See them? And over there — you see the crawl space under the supply shed? When I was five, I followed a skunk in there to see if he was a shifter, too. Cody got me out before I got sprayed, and I made him swear never to tell.
Would Luke like to hear those stories? Would he even care? She’d never waxed poetic about the ranch to anyone before, and suddenly, she wanted to share all her feelings about the people and the
place at once.
I love the ranch. I love and hate it because I belong, but I don’t belong. My brothers and sister got to grow up here, while I had to follow my mom around. My roots are here, but I’m a tumbleweed.
She’d considered moving to the ranch a dozen times in the past few years, but somehow, it felt like that wasn’t right. Like something bigger and better was waiting for her out there.
A zephyr of wind stirred the acacia to her right, and she swore she heard a whisper in the movement. Something like him.
Luke leaned heavily on her, close enough for his breath to tickle her hair. Close enough for her to imagine getting a hell of a lot closer if only she could. Face-to-face. Skin-to-skin. Heart-to-heart.
“This is the guest house,” she said, waving at the historic little adobe in the middle of the ranch. She tried to play it cool while desperately scrambling to remember her plan. She did have a plan, right?
Oh, I have a plan, all right, her wolf murmured.
“You can shower here,” she said, keeping up her side of the conversation.
“Nice,” Luke mumbled, so low her toes curled.
Nice, her wolf agreed, keeping him snug against her side.
“So, here we are,” she said, pushing the rusty door open with a screech.
Luke broke away from her as she breezed into the familiar one-room space. She’d stayed there occasionally, but somehow, the place had a whole different vibe to it this time. A secret, sensual vibe. The high ceiling promised to keep her most intimate secrets, and the crisp white linens on the bed practically purred for her to come over and rest with Luke.
She shook her head. No way. She was just dropping him off, right?
He needs us, her wolf cried.
A painting of a red rose hung over the bed. She knew every contour of every petal, but there was a new, blatantly suggestive aspect to it she’d never picked up on before.
The screen door closed with a dull thwack, and she turned around.
Luke leaned heavily against the doorframe. “Nice,” he murmured again. His eyes were shut though, and his face pinched.
Her wolf whined, and Carly had to fight hard not to rush to his side and stroke his arm.
He needs us. Plus, Aunt Jean would kill you if you let him get into the bed all grimy like that.
She pursed her lips. Maybe the wolf had a point.
“You’ll find everything you need for a shower…” She motioned toward the bathroom, then trailed off. She’d never seen a man more tired.
“Thanks,” he mumbled quietly. “That’s great.”
Carly stuck her hands on her hips. It was not great, damn it. She couldn’t leave him, but she sure as hell couldn’t stay, much less help him into the shower.
Why not? her wolf said, licking its lips. It’s not like we’ve never seen him naked.
That was different. That was back when he was a harmless stranger she thought she’d never see again. Back before the defenses around her heart had started to crack.
He saved Tana. It’s only right to pay him back, her wolf argued.
She squeezed her lips together, then took a deep breath. Fine. She’d guide him into the shower, which was bound to perk him up a little—
Her wolf nodded eagerly. Sure. Right. Perk him up.
—and then he could take care of the rest on his own.
“Okay, okay,” she mumbled, giving in at last. “Come on.”
“I’m fine.”
“Move it, Hot Stuff.” Her words were sharp, but she made sure her grip on his arm was gentle.
Luke half stumbled, half lurched toward the bathroom and stood with both arms propped heavily on either side of the sink.
Shit. She really was going to have to help him into the shower.
“So, your shirt,” she tried. When he didn’t move, she pulled the hem out of his jeans and slowly worked it up his torso. Dust rained down from the movement, reminding her how close he’d come to being buried alive. Her hands tingled on first contact with his skin, and her face heated. But the second she spotted the first bruises…
“Whoa. Luke,” she gasped.
Because it wasn’t just one or two, but a whole patchwork of them, blue and purple and hot to the touch. Some were even darker than the tribal tattoos etched into his skin in thick lines. Together, the bruises and tattoos formed a scene more menacing than the most powerful clouds of a summer monsoon swirling angrily across the sky.
“Not so bad.” He grimaced as she pulled the shirt over his shoulders.
“Not so bad, my ass.” The few areas of his shoulders that weren’t bruised were scratched and cut.
“Shifter healing,” he murmured.
She stopped abruptly, realizing how many times she’d said the same thing. Like the time she crashed her first Harley — and the second. The time she’d plummeted fifty feet when a rock-climbing move went badly wrong. When she’d limped home from each of those incidents, her mother or sister or aunt would look at her, wide-eyed with fear.
Shifter healing, she’d said each time.
She’d always been so intent on hiding the pain that their concern was more annoying than heartwarming. And she’d never understood why they seemed so invested when everything turned out all right.
But what if it didn’t? her mother had gasped, clutching her shoulders.
Carly, what if you died? Tina had once asked, looking white as a sheet.
Carly stood perfectly still, replaying the moment when Luke had stumbled out of the shaft half a second before the whole tunnel caved in, and her heart lurched again. She’d never been so scared in her life. She’d never been so scared of losing someone she loved.
Sure, her siblings and father had all been in mortal danger at one time or another, but she hadn’t witnessed those occasions. She’d never really thought about what it meant to have one of them erased from her life.
But now, it was all she could think about. What if Luke had died? What if she lost him forever? What if…
She blinked and looked up when something tightened over her hand. It was Luke, looking at her in the mirror. “It’s not that bad.”
The same bullshit line she’d told her loved ones, once upon a time.
She tossed his shirt aside and reached around his waist for the button of his jeans. The movement came smoothly, naturally, and even with Luke’s eyes steady on her, she didn’t feel self-conscious.
Why should we? He’s our mate.
If he’s sporting a major hard-on, I’m out of here, she warned her wolf. It will just show he’s a fake.
He wasn’t a fake, as it turned out, leaving her strangely disappointed — and doubly concerned. He winced and stepped stiffly out of his boots, jeans, and boxers, holding on to the sink the whole time.
She turned on the shower tap, tested the water, and guided him in.
“See? Nice and warm.” For some reason, her words came out in a soft, you-poor-puppy tone.
Luke stood under the flow of water, bracing his hands against the shower wall while his head hung low. A solid slab of muscle that might as well have been a statue — he was that motionless, that silent.
“The soap’s right there.” She pointed, but he didn’t stir. Water ran along the contours of his body, emphasizing the dark curves of his tattoos.
“And shampoo…” she tried.
He didn’t move an inch.
We have to help him, her wolf insisted.
She bit her lip. If she gave in now…
But not giving in was just as bad, because it wasn’t just about her. It was about him. For the past few days, he’d labored away at the worst jobs on the ranch without complaint. He’d held his tongue and somehow held on to his pride.
She stared at him. From the outside, this man exuded bad boy vibes. But on the inside, he was all heart. All determination. All…good.
A man of honor, her wolf hummed. We have to help him, her wolf cried.
Unnecessarily, as it turned out, because she was already working down
the buttons of her shirt. A second later, she stripped out of her jeans and stepped into the shower behind him.
Just helping him, she told herself, wondering if it was a lie. Just helping him.
Chapter Eleven
Carly reached for the soap and ran a hand gingerly down Luke’s back.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
He nodded quietly.
She closed her eyes for a moment. Christ, she was so, so close to him. The only thing separating her hips from the steely curve of his ass was a thin cascade of water and a hairsbreadth of space.
Her nipples instantly peaked, and her core warmed. This was going to be torture.
She slid the soap over his back and gently spread the suds with her free hand.
“Feels good,” he whispered hoarsely.
Sure does, she almost said.
Her hand glided over the S curve of his back, from the broad expanse of his shoulders down the line of his spine and over his rear. Then she raised her hand and started all over again, erasing all the grime, memorizing every curve. Her nostrils flared the way they did when she was about to rev her motorcycle or attempt a new rock face.
Danger, her body cried all too eagerly. Danger.
No danger, her wolf whispered.
Of course, there was. She could lose everything to this man. Her heart. Her independence. Her soul.
He can give you more, the deep voice of fate whispered in her mind. Love. Light. Direction.
Luke stiffened when she touched a sore spot, then relaxed under her touch again. He even sighed, as she nearly did.
Whoever had done his tattoos was a master of the art. The dark lines curved in harmony with the lines of his body — bold swirls over his shoulder blades, jagged lightning bolts along his ribs. Interlocking knots unfurled into long, streaming whips. Some lines were pure black, while others were made of countless tiny hash marks offset by ninety degrees.
Offset by bruises, too, but as the shower steamed up, the worst of them began to fade.
Shifter healing. Her wolf grinned.
Her strokes dropped lower, dipping down to his hips and along his ass. She tilted her shoulders to reach as low as his thighs, and when she straightened, their bodies brushed. The tingles of electricity zapping around her body all exploded at the same time, and she sucked in a deep breath.