The Moose Shifter's Fake Wife: A Steamy Shifter Rom-Com

by Candace Ayers

  Chapter 10

  Clint

  I was sweaty and covered in dirt by the time Hawkeye, Gomer, and I finished scouting the area and securing the animals and the barn for the night. Everything was safe and locked up tight for the time being.

  I would have done anything to spare Sam the grief she was feeling right now. The woman had a great big heart. She didn’t deserve this, and I know she was wallowing in self-blame, even though there wasn’t a damn thing she could have done to stop it.

  The scent of wolf had been heavy over the mauled cows, and by the way the creatures had been killed, I was fairly sure the perpetrator was a Variant. I planned to make a little visit out to Ben’s place tonight. Ben Cartwright was the alpha of the secluded Variant wolves. He usually kept a tight rein on his pack. He was not going to like hearing one of his own was up to no good.

  I also wanted to swing by my place in town and pack a bag before returning to Pappy’s. I snorted a laugh. What a day. I’d gone and gotten myself hitched to a Norm woman I’d met only this morning. A woman who, mere hours ago, I’d called crazy to her face.

  I wasn’t ashamed of my impulsivity. Not when I thought of the alternative—some other asshole married to Sam right now while I tossed and turned in bed tonight unable to sleep, unable to keep my mind from wandering and wondering why the hell I’d let the most irritating, intriguing, stimulating, exciting woman I’d ever met slip through my fingers.

  Fuck that.

  What I’d done may have been rash and impulsive, but fuck if I’d let another man near her. She was mine and I did what I had to do to make sure everyone knew it.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t freaking out a little.

  I have a wife!

  Fuck!

  I ran a hand through my hair. A wife wasn’t something I’d ever planned to have, and I definitely never thought I’d have a Norm wife.

  A couple times at the courthouse, I’d been almost tempted to call off the whole thing. Almost. If it wasn’t for the very real fact that it was either me or someone else.

  Now that the deed was done, it was done.

  And there would be no divorce.

  When she asked about it, I’d been purposefully vague. Ever since we’d come into our own on Detachment Day, Variants had adopted most of the Norm social conventions, like marriage—with Pappy’s guidance, of course.

  Most of the social conventions.

  The one thing we didn’t do was divorce. It wasn’t in our genetic makeup. Once we imprinted on a mate, that was it. No one else would do for us.

  Sam would find that out. No need to lay everything on her all at once. We had the rest of our lives to have conversations about this, that, and the other. Important things, trivial things—everything. I smiled just thinking about it.

  After burying both cows in one very large grave, I made my way back to the house. The sun had gone down and the darkness was heavy. Along with the setting sun, the stifling heat shifted to frigid evening temps. Hawkeye and Gomer had already left and it was just Sam and me on the ranch.

  For some reason, as I climbed the front porch steps, I was all of a sudden struck with a twinge of uncertainty. It wasn’t a familiar feeling for me, but the petite blonde I was now hitched to seemed to be triggering a lot of unfamiliar feelings lately. Being alone with her made this whole marriage thing more real. I hesitated at the door.

  Should I knock?

  Just walk in?

  I lived here now.

  We were husband and wife, but I wanted Sam to feel—to know—she was respected.

  I knocked on the screen door and heard Gilligan shoot off a couple of lame barks from inside. A second later, Sam pulled the door open and greeted me wearing a blanket around her shoulders.

  Even weary and worn, she was gorgeous. “Come on in.”

  I shook my head and gestured at my dirty boots. “I don’t want to track more dirt in.”

  “Oh, okay.” She clutched the blanket tighter and chewed a fingernail. “Are you leaving?”

  I nodded. “I’ll be back, though. Won’t be long.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “Tonight?”

  I suppressed a grin. It was sightly gratifying to know I wasn’t the only one on uncertain ground and figuring things out on the fly.

  “Yes, tonight. We’re married. I don’t know how it works where you’re from, but ‘round these parts, husbands and wives live under the same roof.” Unable to watch her chew her fingernail to bits, I gently pushed her hand down and held it in mine. “I’ve got to pack a bag and run an errand. It shouldn’t take more’n a couple of hours.”

  “Okay.”

  She edged toward me, and I realized that maybe the case of nerves I was sensing from her wasn’t because we’d just tied the knot. Maybe she was apprehensive about me leaving her out here alone what with the events of the day and all. She’d been pretty shaken up about losing two of the c—Bertha and Hannah.

  “You’re safe, Sam. The animals are safe too. They’re locked up tight in the barn tonight.” I squeezed her hand, a move that sent tingles shooting through my fingertips, then let go and stepped back. I needed to leave right then because with every passing minute it got harder to drag myself away. “I’ll be back.”

  A beat passed before Sam hurried out onto the porch after me. “I just… I meant what I said in the flyer, Clint. This isn’t the biblical kind of marriage.”

  I might’ve been offended if I didn’t see her pulse racing at the base of her throat, hear the huskiness in her voice, and smell the faint scent of her arousal in the air when she said “biblical marriage.”

  I just grinned. That’s what you think, darlin’.

  The blush on her face was noticeable even in the low porch lighting. Sam opened her mouth like she had something else to say and then snapped it closed.

  “G’won inside. Lock the door if it makes you feel safer. I have a key to let myself in later.”

  She frowned. “You have a key? Why do you have a key to my—our—place already?”

  “I grew up here on this ranch.”

  “You lived here?”

  “Go inside, Sam. We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

  She hesitated for a moment and then looked out at the darkness. With a slight shiver, she backed into the house.

  Her eyes remained on me for a few breaths longer before she closed the door and locked it.

  I watched until I saw the lights throughout the house turn on one by one. I hated the thought that I was leaving her here while she was scared, but I knew she was safe. If there was any doubt about that, I wouldn’t go.

  And what I had to do, I had to do without her.

  The farther I got from the house, the more I felt a pull to turn right around and head back. But I had business to take care of. If Sam lost another of her animals to a wolf attack, she’d be devastated.

  And I would be on the war path. Especially if it was because of a fucking Variant.

  I drove across the bumpy terrain to the hot springs. Parking in my usual spot, I changed forms before running the long jaunt to the wolves’ oasis.

  Ever alert, they must have heard me coming because Ben was waiting for me at the edge of the tree line that hid their territory. Two of his enforcers flanked him. None of them were clothed, which meant they had just changed from their animal forms as well.

  For Variants, nudity was commonplace. It wasn’t accepted in town, not in public anyway, but that was mostly as a safeguard in case Norms happened to be passing through.

  Not all Variants were able to change to animal forms, and some—those we referred to as Outliers—could change from animal to human, but preferred to live life in their animal form.

  Regardless, lack of clothing in our human form was as natural to us as lack of clothing in our animal form.

  “Clint.” Ben nodded a greeting. “Business or pleasure?”

  I let out a sigh. “We’ve got a problem, Ben. Two cows have come up dead at Pappy’s—mauled to ribbons. Scent
of wolf all over the place. It was a Variant.”

  “You sure—” He stopped himself when I cocked a brow anticipating his question. “Of course you’re sure. Fuck.” He exchanged looks with his enforcers.

  “You know that, as the sheriff, I have a responsibility, but seein’ as how it’s one of yours and all, I’m hoping—”

  “Yeah, I’ll handle it from here. Did anything else happen?”

  “There was evidence the barn was messed with, but we think they ran off when we showed up.” I thought of Sam back at the ranch, crying her eyes out over her cows.

  “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  I hesitated then gave a brief nod. “Appreciate that. It’s important. Pappy’s niece has taken over the ranch, and the whole thing scared her somethin’ awful.”

  Ben looked surprised. “She’s here already? I wasn’t informed. I didn’t think she’d arrive so soon. I been meaning to check periodically for her arrival, but I’ve had a…situation. I’ll take charge of keeping watch over her from here on out.”

  The way he said situation was odd. I sensed there was more he wasn’t saying.

  “No need.”

  “I’ll feel better. And it couldn’t hurt.”

  “I said there’s no need.”

  “Still. I promised Pappy I’d look out for her. You said she was scared. If she knows someone’s keeping watch...” Ben must have seen something in my expression because his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He studied my face. “I’m getting a distinct impression there’s more to the story. Something you’re leaving out there, Sheriff?”

  “We were married today—me and Pappy’s niece. I’ll be living there at the ranch now so, as I said, there’s no need for you to watch over the place.”

  Ben’s jaw dropped. He blinked a few times. He clearly hadn’t expected that response. Why would he? But to his credit, he simply nodded in acknowledgment. “Er…congratulations?”

  I grunted. “Thanks. And thanks for taking care of the other.”

  Goodbyes unnecessary, we both turned and morphed into our animals. I hoofed it to the springs and redressed before driving into town.

  I owned a small adobe-style home, painted white with a raw-wood door and a big front window. It’d been my home for nearly twenty years, but walking through the door tonight, I wasn’t sad to be leaving it and going back to Pappy’s. Quite the contrary.

  A quick shower, change of clothes, packed bag, and I was off. The sooner I got back to Sam, the better. I didn’t like her being alone. She was safe, I knew that. But she’d had a tough day, and if she needed a shoulder to lean on, I wanted to be sure she got one. And I wanted that shoulder to be mine.

  I parked in front of the house and hurried up the steps. The front door was unlocked, which was odd since I heard her lock it before I left. A quick sweep of the house told me it was empty.

  What the fuck? Panic inched its way up from my gut to the back of my throat. I dropped my bag. Had someone come back to mess with Sam?

  I jumped off the porch and ran toward the barn. Everything was quiet and calm, and no sign of her.

  Then I saw it.

  On the other side of the pasture.

  A soft glow of a flashlight.

  As I neared, I heard Sam’s voice, still little more than a whisper on the gentle evening breeze.

  The closer I got, the more flabbergasted I was by what I saw.

  Sam was crouching in front of the spot where we’d buried the cows. The light I’d seen wasn’t a flashlight. It was a candle. She’d placed it in front of her as she spoke reverently.

  I approached quietly. How did she even know where I’d buried them? She must have been watching from the window.

  Dang, my wife was something else. I was struck by the fact that while at first I called her crazy, I now realized she was just unusual. Unique. Different, but in a good way. She couldn’t help the fact that her heart was jumbo-size and made of solid gold.

  I stood at a distance to give her space and not interrupt while I listened to her give what she called “a proper goodbye.”

  When I sensed she was finishing up, I stealthily moved out of her beam of light so she couldn’t see me. I trailed her as she stopped by the barn and then the henhouse before making her way back to the house.

  I raced to the porch, reached it before she did, and sank onto the steps like I’d been there the entire time.

  She stumbled when she saw me, and her hand flew to her chest. “You scared me!”

  Pappy’s old jacket was draped over her shoulders.

  “I can say the same for you. What are you doing out here?”

  She sat next to me and clutched the ends of the jacket closed. “I just wanted to check on everyone. They all seem okay. Thanks to you.”

  “As much as I’d like to take all the credit, Hawk and Gomer were a big help.” I stretched my legs out in front, crossed ‘em at the ankles, and leaned back on my elbows. “I’ll show you how to take care of this place starting tomorrow.”

  She frowned, her expression a mix of embarrassment and shame.

  “Hey.” I sat up and scooped her chin in my palm, raising her face so I could stare into her eyes. “That is not a judgment. You’ve done just fine for a city girl. Nothing to be ashamed of at all. I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise this morning.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to say that. I know that I’m a failure as a rancher. I would’ve been a whole lot better if I had access to YouTube or Google, but on my own, I’m useless.”

  I paused for a second. “On the upside, the animals have never looked prettier.”

  To my relief, she took it as the lighthearted ribbing I intended it to be and laughed, a beautiful sound. What was even more beautiful was the way her face lit up as some of her tension slipped away.

  “The auction house is going to be amazed when they get a good look at these beauty queens.”

  Sam’s brow crinkled. “Auction house?”

  Oh, boy. I patted her knee and stood. “That’s a conversation for another day. Come on. You’ve had a long day. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Chapter 11

  Shay

  “Aaaaaahhhh!”

  I let out a startled cry as Clint swept me off my feet and into his arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Clint’s face broke into an amused grin. “Carrying ya.”

  “What for? I can walk. Put me down.”

  “It’s a husband’s honor and duty to carry his wife over the threshold on their wedding day. I didn’t get to do it earlier, so I’m doin’ it now.”

  Oh, this man!

  My heart thundered in my chest. “Well, okay, then.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder what else he considered a husband’s duty.

  I thought about the way he’d grinned wickedly on the porch earlier when I’d reiterated that this was not a biblical type of marriage, and vaguely wondered if it was too late to change my mind about that.

  No, Shay, don’t go there. Do NOT go there.

  I knew Clint wasn’t expecting us to share a bed. I’d shown him his bedroom earlier, and he didn’t seem the type to push for more unless he was sure I was completely on board.

  I wasn’t questioning him.

  I was questioning myself.

  How was I going to sleep under the same roof with a man as hot as my grumpy-pants-sheriff-with-a-soft-side husband without wanting to jump his sexy bones? One bone in particular.

  Clint was not going to be easy to resist.

  Even though we were legally wed, the fact remained that we’d only just met this morning.

  Good lord, this is insane.

  I needed to strongly remind myself that only a few months ago I had been sharing a bed with a man I had been fully prepared to spend the rest of my life with. I’d slept beside Robert nightly thinking I knew him, when in reality, I had no clue who he was.

  Clint seemed straightforward, but I no longer trusted my own judgment. For all I knew,
this seemingly straightlaced, morally upright man had a hidden dark side.

  As we squeezed through the doorway, the blond scruff on Clint’s chin brushed my cheek, and his delicious scent wafted over me, a clean masculine scent—soap and man.

  My vagina strongly protested my vow of celibacy.

  Clint closed the door, but didn’t lock it. Interesting.

  “Shouldn’t you lock the door, Sheriff?”

  He opened his mouth as though he was about to reply—either a protest or an explanation—but in the end, just set me on my feet, smiled, and flipped the lock.

  Gilligan, still on the couch, raised his head and greeted us with a low growl before dropping it again and falling back into a deep, snore-filled slumber.

  I watched Clint as he moved around the house checking windows and turning off lights. He knew where every light switch and lamp was located, which reminded me of what he’d said before he went to pick up his things.

  I grew up here on this ranch.

  I was suddenly struck by a horrible thought. “Wait…” I blanched. “You’re not Pappy’s son, are you?”

  Clint leveled me with a stare that dismissed any further thoughts I might have had along that vein.

  Of course he’s not, Shay, you twit. He thinks you’re Pappy’s niece. Do you really think he’d enter into an incestuous marriage?

  “Okay, not by blood. But you said you grew up here? Does that mean that Pappy—um, my uncle—raised you?”

  “He did. Pappy raised a whole brood of us. Fourteen, to be exact. I guess we were what you might call foster children.”

  “Fourteen! In this small place?” I shrugged my arms out of the jacket I’d borrowed from the coat tree in the corner, and the smell of pipe tobacco wafted up from the sleeves.

  Clint wore a nostalgic look like he was remembering the past. The slight smile on his face gave me the impression that his memories were fond ones.

  “I was six when I came to live here. Pappy took as many of us as could squeeze in the place. He took us under his wing and raised us like we were his own.” As he scanned the living space, he sighed. “The man was a loner by nature. A crusty, ill-tempered, hermit type, then suddenly his world was jam-packed with fourteen youngsters—and we weren’t easy kids, none of us were. But damned if he didn’t rise to the occasion and become a father and mentor to us all.”