Bear Mountain Bride: Shifter Romance by Sky Winters (48)

I began to look forward to the journey ahead of me, and leaned back in my seat to enjoy the open air as we rode in Blake's wagon toward his home.

Chapter 3

“Welcome to my humble home," Blake said with a nervous smile. “We're not man and wife yet, so you can stay in the guestroom. After that, we can figure out what to do, depending on how you're comfortable. We can just pretend to stay in the same room if company is over. That way you can just get settled into the guestroom and have your privacy and I'll have mine. I built it for whoever answered that ad. Since I promised your freedom, I intend to stay true to my word. That's the proper thing to do."

I smiled privately to myself, happy that I was with such a gentleman. If I had been married to Mr. Plumb, I knew that having my own bedroom would not be an option. I would be forced to spend all my time around a man who wanted me all to himself. That would have been the most miserable thing on earth for me, so I was glad to know that Blake was different.

“Just so you know, I cook for myself. But if you'd like, I would like to make dinner for the both of us tonight. I'm sure it's been a long trip. You can eat however you like, or you can feel free to join me. We can be friends, we don't just have to be strangers since are going to be living together and all. I don't mind getting to know you. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable or blur the lines.”

“All right, sounds pleasant," I said to him as I looked around.

His home was exactly the kind of place I had pictured during all of my fantasies about the West. It looked as if he had built it himself, and it was large and spacious but small enough to be cozy at the same time. There was a big common room with two bedrooms built across from each other. He had cut large windows into the side of the walls so that we could look out over a beautiful mountain view no matter where we were in the room. He had settled in the prairies at the foot of a large mountain and had the best of both worlds in his area. The atmosphere felt warm, as if I were home already. Inside it smelled like cedar wood and I noticed a small pile of logs by a black iron woodstove that was used for heating and cooking.

“Do you mind doing chores, Daisy?" Blake asked me.

“Of course I don't mind doing chores," I told him indignantly. I had done plenty of chores at home, mostly helping mother with the sewing. I figured that was all he had in mind.

“How about you stoke the fire and get it roaring so we don't freeze to death tonight?" He said. “I'll start supper while you do that.”

I opened and closed my mouth, my heart fluttering in panic. I had never started a fire before. But of course if a man was able to do it, I could do the same. All I had to do was figure out how. Blake disappeared out the front door and went down to the cellar to fetch some food. I had to sit inside with the wood stove trying to figure out how to start the fire.

I grabbed a poker from the corner and stood there looking at the wood stove. I picked up a log and tucked it under the other arm, and then stuffed it into the wood stove. I began poking furiously at it, trying to remember what my father had done whenever he needed to start a fire. I had been fairly sheltered in my father's large estate, and tried my best to make sure to steer clear from anything that could have been considered man's work. My mother was horrified anytime I showed an interest in what my father was doing, so I had learned early on to avoid anything that my mother might scold me for. She was a very unpleasant woman when she set her mind to it.

I groaned in frustration as I poked the log with a stick. Nothing was happening, I was doing something wrong. Suddenly, I heard a low rumble of laughter coming from behind me. Blake sat down a bag of potatoes and onions and approached the wood stove.

“What in the world are you doing, girl?" He asked me.

“What's it look like I'm doing?” I snapped. "I'm starting a fire.”

“Not like that you're not," he laughed. "Let me show you how to do that so that you'll know for next time."

I was humiliated and embarrassed, but his laughter was contagious and made me feel at ease.

“Don't worry, we all start out not knowing a thing. First of all, that log is way too big to start anything.”

He pulled the log out and set it beside the wood stove.

“Second of all, I like to hide my fire. Watch."

He took a handful of little sticks that I hadn't noticed beside the log pile and tossed them inside the wood stove. He took the poker gently from my hand and began to stab at the ashes, stirring them around until I saw smoke. The little twigs began to combust and soon they were burning into a decent sized fire.

“Once the fire gets to be about this size, you can put the log in," he said, handing the log back to me with a grin.

I nervously approached the wood stove and pushed the log inside, backing away quickly as ashes rushed out at me. He chuckled that my apprehension and shook his head.

“I guess I didn't take into account I'd be getting me a city girl," he laughed heartily. “Don't worry though darling, we'll teach you a thing or two about country living yet.”

I wasn't sure whether to be offended or flattered by his kindness, and so I didn't say anything at all.

“Do you know your way around a kitchen?" He asked, gesturing toward the potatoes. I nodded, and we set to work side-by-side, peeling and cutting potatoes for supper. It was comfortable but it was quiet, and neither of us really knew what to do from there. It was strange being so near to his sturdy, strong body, and we were working seamlessly together as a team to prepare our meal. It was strange how comfortable I felt working with him. He made me a little bit nervous, but more than anything he made me feel very safe and secure.

When dinner was ready, he led me to a wooden table, unlike any table I had ever dined at in all my life. It was as if somebody had chopped a tree in half and set it on some sticks. And it was kind of dirty. He saw me staring at it, and a worried look flickered across his face.

“You don't like it, do you?" He asked me, the frown setting deeper into his face. “We could eat outside if you want. I can make you a new table. I never mind some fresh air or a chance to work with my hands."

“It's not that at all,” I lied. “I've just never seen a table like this before."

“Well don't that beat all," he said, shaking his head. “You're probably used to something a lot better than all of this."

 

He gestured toward his home, seeming to feel a little bit self-conscious. I suddenly felt terrible and gritted my teeth. I wish I hadn't looked at the table at all or had any of those cruel thoughts about how many meals may have been spilled all over the wooden surface.

“I love it here,” I said firmly to him, looking him straight in the eye. “It'll just take some getting used to, but I'm willing."

He eyed me for a little while longer before sitting down to eat at the table.

“I made this one pretty fast," he said. “I never expected anybody else to eat with me here. I know it doesn't look the best, but I wasn't trying to make it look good. I was just thinking about functionality.”

“You don't have to defend your work to me," I said, sitting down and pulling my plate close to me.

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled that food, and I picked up my fork. As I dug in, I became conscious of Blake's shoulders shaking silently. At first I wondered if he was crying about me insulting his table, and I worried that maybe I really had thrown my lot in with a homosexual. I didn't mind if he was, I just wished that he would be honest with me about it. Slowly however, I realized that he was actually laughing.

“I think you'll come to like the country here,” he said. “Even if you don't know how to make the fire yet, I reckon you'll be able to feed yourself in no time.”

I gave what I hoped was an evil glare, but we both laughed. I knew he was right. I didn't follow the same kinds of rules that most of the girls in Boston did, and I had a feeling that I would begin to love the country almost as much as Blake did. Whether I was born there or not, the West felt as if it was my home and I was excited to be able to express myself freely with somebody who would not have any expectations of me at all. That wasn't something I could have experienced with Mr. Plumb, or any other man back home for that matter. I was very grateful to be in Blake's home that night, and when he showed me to my bedroom and pulled out extra blankets so that I wouldn't get cold, I studied his handsome face, wondering just how close I was going to be with my future husband.

Chapter 4

I was sleeping soundly when a sound startled me. I had been asleep for about three hours, and it was very late and dark out. I had heard a loud creaking noise that stirred me from my slumber. For a moment I couldn't remember where I was, and I had expected to be in my old bedroom back in Boston. However, the smell of wood burning and the forest outside was everywhere, and I remembered with a start that I was in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with a man I barely knew. A man who was going to be my husband.

I crept out of bed, wondering if maybe he was awake and that was why I had heard the creaking sound. I looked all around and didn't see him anywhere. His bedroom door was ajar, swinging on its hinges as if he had just left. I clung to the doorframe, suddenly afraid for some reason I could not identify. I walked toward the entrance of the house and realized that that door was also wide open. Blake had disappeared into the night, and left me behind alone in the house. And it was a full moon, too. Wasn't that when all the craziest things were supposed to happen?

At first I was angry and wondered what he was thinking. Who leaves a poor defenseless woman who has never been in the country before alone like that? I was scared, and a shiver ran through my whole body. Everything was dark and strange, and the rooms that had been full of light and life while I was awake and eating supper with Blake now looked ominous and scary in the dark shadows. I swallowed hard and walked back into my bedroom after I made sure that the door was latched securely closed. I close the door to my bedroom and lay down in the Pinewood bed. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I was too nervous. Eventually though, my tiredness won out and my fears slipped away, leaving me worn out and asleep in my bed.

The next morning I was awakened by the smell of breakfast cooking. My stomach rumbled immediately, and I stood up and floated toward the smell without thinking twice about where Blake might've gone. Suddenly, I realized that he had left me alone in the house that night, but I was safe and sound and he was home, and everything was okay. I was determined to give him a piece of my mind, so I marched straight up to him where he was cooking and stood on my tiptoes to look him in the eye.

“Where on earth did you run off to last night?" I asked him, setting my jaw in a frown. “You left the door wide open, anything could've come in to eat me."

His bright demeanor suddenly darkened, and I stepped away, unsure of what to expect. I knew many men with terrible tempers, and most of them didn't hesitate from showing a woman her place. Or at least, what he thought her place should be. Instead of turning on me though, he didn't answer and stirred the skillet where our eggs and meat were cooking.

“You don't have to tell me what you're up to, but could you at least try to close the door after yourself?" I asked him, changing my tone and trying to soften it to win his favor.

“I'll remember that next time," was all he said.

***

He had big plans for us that day, and took me outside with him, to the stable where he kept his horses. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, until he saddled up one of the horses and held his hand out to me. He wanted me to go for a ride with them.

“You do know how to do this don't you? Rich girls always get to ride horses, don't they?" He asked, by way of teasing.

“It just so happens that I never showed any interest in horseback riding and my father was afraid I would get hurt. A young girl we knew got killed on one of her horses so I was never allowed to go near them since then.”

“So your parents were a little bit overprotective where they?" He said with a chuckle. “Horses are not going to hurt you if you know what to do. Let me show you how it's done.”

“Honestly I'd rather not, I'm kind of afraid."

“Well it's good that you're honest, if you're scared the horses know it and they get scared even faster. That makes it even more dangerous. About that girl you knew, I bet she was scared on her horse. But I bet nobody paid any attention to that did they?”

My mind went back to the girl and her parents, and I knew that he was right. She had never wanted to be on a horse in the first place, but they had forced her into it and suffered dearly for that mistake.

“All right then, we're going to do it a little differently," he said, taking the saddle off of the horse. “I want you to sit this stable for a while, just you and me and the horses, and will give them a brush so you guys can get to know each other. Eventually you'll be able to read them if you start understanding them and not being so afraid. There's nothing to it really, it's all in your own mind how you do it.”

We spent the morning and early afternoon bonding with the horses, before he finally decided to put them up to his carriage and take us both into town.

“Now if these folks say anything to you, you just tell them that you're my bride-to-be, and that I'm putting you up until were officially married. We gotta get you the fabric for your dress, and whatever else you might want. The last thing I want is you going a single day without something you need, so let's get going before it gets too late and the stores are closed.”

I had no choice but to agree, and found myself gazing at the beautiful countryside as he drove his wagon into town. All the townsfolk stared at us again, just as they had when I first arrived on the train and climbed into Blake's carriage. What I found most peculiar was that everybody stared more Blake than they did at me. Many of them looked at me and shook their heads in disbelief, while others just glared at Blake. I knew that his stories must've been true.

However, that didn't account for all the women who were glaring at him as well. Unless he already tried his hand at womanizing, I couldn't figure out what it was that everybody would hate him for so much. I didn't want to believe that he was a womanizer, but it would make sense, wouldn't it? He wanted a woman like me to come and live with him to keep clear of any blame so that he can continue being a good for nothing scoundrel who didn't give a hoot about the vows of marriage.

I felt guilty for having these thoughts in my head while sitting right next to him, but what else was I supposed to think? Anybody in my position would have thought the same thing. Still, I didn't think that this was his secret, but he certainly did have some kind of secret that he was hiding from me, and maybe everybody else there.

I soon forgot my thoughts and became consumed in shopping with Blake. He was great company, and he didn't hesitate to spend a dime. I wondered how he got all this money, but he didn't say anything about that. I was provided for, and I didn't mind letting him pay because I figured it would be taken out of what he owed me for the cost of being his mail order bride. We were done shopping, the sun was beginning to set and we were laughing together as if we were already friends. All the thoughts of him being a womanizer had left my mind, and all I could do was enjoy the moment and wish that it would never end.

Chapter 5

One thing that I had not counted on when I met Blake was his pride. The man was just as stubborn as I was, and that was saying a lot. You would have to be pretty foolhardy to run off on a train to marry some man you've never met in a place you've never been before, where danger was high and an animal could come out at you at any moment and have you for breakfast. I believed I had found my match the second day we were together, and his stubbornness just kept on coming and showing itself when I least expected it.

Blake disappeared to do some errands for the day, and I was feeling very lonely. I wanted to go out to the horses and brush them like he showed me but I was scared. So instead, I decided to try to reorganize the furniture in the homestead so that I could feel a little more comfortable. I never liked how a table can take up all the space in a room like his did, so I pushed it against the wall and admired my handiwork. It seemed much better to me, and I liked seeing the space on the floor. I imagined there was a band playing and felt happy having room to dance around and twirl in my new skirt. No man had ever been able to take his eyes off of me when I danced, and I wondered how Blake would feel if we danced together. I imagined taking me into his strong arms, and letting his face break out into the carefree smile that I had come to enjoy so much.

When Blake came home and saw me twirling through the empty floor though, that was the end of my fun. His bright blue eyes hardened and grew fiery, startling me out of my happy dance. I stopped dancing and said hello, but he didn't say anything back. Instead, he pushed past me and grabbed the table, pulling it back into the position where it had been before he left. I watched silently as he did so, my feelings a little bit hurt.

“It's really cramped in here," I complained. “And don't think this is because I hate your table. I just like having room on the floor to do things."

“That's what going outdoors is for,” he said, smoldering. “Why in the blue blazes would you need to dance on my floor when you have all that space outside?”

“I just want to make a little room, that's all," I said, frustrated with him for ruining my fun.

“Just please don't change things in here, I don't like change very well," he said. “I'd rather it be intentional."

From the way he said this, I got the impression that he wasn't just talking about his kitchen table. I wanted to give into my stubborn urge to defend my right to a floor, but instead I found myself wondering what in the world he might've been talking about. What changes did he have to go through that were not intentional, I wondered. For some reason, these secrets reminded me of his disappearance on the night I had arrived on the full moon. The man was full of secrets, and I wasn't sure I would ever find any answers.

**
I felt bad about moving his table and upsetting his home, so I decided to make him some dinner. He left quickly after his little outburst, and I went through the groceries as we had brought home from town the day before. I decided to fix him my favorite meal, hoping that maybe he would like it. I spent the rest of the evening preparing the food, doing my best to keep the fire lit brightly. Finally, I heard him come in just as I set the plates on the table.

“Dinner is ready," I said to him.

“Out here we call it supper," he said, sitting down at the table and looking down at his plate. I saw his nose crinkle and I felt my stomach drop.

He poked at the food on his plate with his fork before looking up at me and heaving a heavy sigh.

“What is it?" He asked.

“What do you mean what is it? It's dinner. Why don't you just try it?”

“Yeah, but what are these little black things?" He asked, pushing his plate away. He looked at me with his mouth set at a firm line, and I had the distinct impression that I was about to try to feed a stubborn toddler.

“It's spices. From Boston. You'll like them, I promise. Just try it!”

He brought a bite of food to his mouth and grimaced dramatically. I frowned at his display and sat back in my chair, crossing my hands over my chest. He was chewing with a loud smacking sound and I lolled my head on my shoulders before looking him in the eye.

“Really, you eat like a wild animal!" I exclaimed.

“And you cook like a city girl!" He replied, his handsome face now tart and glowering at me.

We glared at each other, the tension between us rising until it was almost too much to stand. I felt a surge of heat course through my body, for some reason landing somewhere in my loins. This startled me enough to want to get out of the situation I was in. I picked up my plate and stalked away with it, closing myself into my bedroom so that I could eat dinner alone. I could feel his eyes following me as I went, and for a brief moment I wondered what he was thinking before I closed the door and heaved a heavy sigh, wondering what exactly I had gotten myself into.

Chapter 6

Over the course of the next few months, we butted heads every once in a while. At least three nights per month, I would find the front door wide open and Blake would be gone. There was one time after he had left that I saw huge, muddy pawprints on the floor by the door. I really gave him the what for for that one, and he looked at the floor sheepishly, apologizing as he had so many nights before for leaving the door open. One night, I decided I would sit and wait up, hoping to catch him when he came home to get some kind of a clue about what he was doing and where he was going.

I was tired of being left in the dark, and so I hid under the big table, waiting for Blake to return. I wanted to know what time it would be to see which direction he might have come back from. I knew I was being a little bit nosy, but I couldn't handle not knowing what was going on in what was supposed to be my own house. I waited up for a long time, until my eyes were heavy with the promise of sleep as soon as I surrendered to it. Finally, just before sunrise, I heard Blake at the door. I looked up quickly and saw that he was entering into the house, completely buck naked.

I had to put my hands over my face to hide my gasp of disbelief. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, his perfectly sculpted body was muscular and lean. It was the first time I had ever seen a man fully in the nude, and his body was hypnotic. He was more attractive than I would have ever guessed, and his hair, now reaching his shoulders, was disheveled. He looked like a wild animal in a way, and he closed the door quietly behind himself and walked silently into his bedroom. I watched him go, my eyes roaming him up and down greedily as a hot sensation I had never felt before stirred me from my seat on the floor.

I didn't know quite what I was doing until I realized I was not heading back into my own room. Instead, I was pushing the door open into Blake's. He was settling into bed and looked at me in surprise. Neither of us said a word as I approached him, not having any real plan but just following my instincts. I climbed on top of him, his body still bare under his sheets, and pushed my aching loins against his middle. He groaned in pleasure and I kissed him passionately. I could tell from his thighs buckling against me that he was attracted to me, and he let his hands roam up and down my body, resting on my waist.

I'd never been overcome like that before and felt excited to see where it lead, but after a few more kisses he forced himself to pull away from me.

“This isn't proper,” he said with a frown. “We're not man and wife yet. I think you should get back in bed.”

I sighed and rolled over beside him, my hands resting on his chest. I let them run over his hard, muscular body, and pushed one slowly down until it was between his thighs. The heat he was giving off gave me a thrill, and I gripped him in my hand and tugged gently, surprised and pleased as it grew and hardened in my hand. Blake inhaled sharply but stopped protesting, and let me touch him, my curious, stubborn nature making it impossible for him to resist. He gasped and shuddered as I squeezed him, until finally, a hot eruption wetted my hand and the stiffness relaxed.

 

I contemplated this for a while until I felt Blake looking at me, an expression I couldn't read on his face. My loins were on fire, but I knew he would not have me that night. I resigned myself to this and snuggled against his broad shoulder, closing my eyes and drifting into a deep, sound sleep.

***

Blake let me sleep in, but when I woke up I felt embarrassed. I was laying in his bed while he was out clattering at the stove, making breakfast. I crept into my own bedroom and dressed quickly, before taking a deep breath and going out to greet him. I knew that he usually disappeared at least two nights in a row, sometimes three. I couldn't imagine what he was doing running around outside naked like a wild animal, but I didn't think that it was anything close to what I thought it was. I didn't know what I thought anymore.

“Mornin' Daisy,” he said, without turning to face me. His back was to me as he scrambled the eggs.

“Morning," I said quietly. I walked quietly to the table and sat down, where he already had bread laid out on a plate.

It seemed he didn't draw any attention to what had happened the night before. There was no way I could explain or justify it, so I just let it be and tried to enjoy the moment at hand.

“That smells mighty good," I said, mimicking his accent.

He laughed heartily. “My dialect suits you."

Blake brought me a plate of food and he sat down across from me with his own. We ate at a comfortable silence, I was still tired and he seemed to be able to sense this. It felt good knowing that he didn't expect anything from me, and I just did my best to try not to think about the night before. Although it was hard, it was necessary if I was going to keep any of my sanity for the rest of the day. When we were finished with our breakfast, Blake turned to me, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Do you think you're ready to ride today?" He asked.

It had been many months since I first started getting to know the horses, and I finally did feel confident saddling up and going for a ride. I flashed him a big grin, and he laughed as if he already knew my answer. He cleared the table and took my hand, leading me out to the stables by the arm. I loved being so near to him, and it reminded me of the sinfully comfortable position I was in in the crook of his arms the night before.

When we reached the stables, he showed me how to saddle up the horse, and he gave me a lift up into the saddle. He lifted me with such ease that brought butterflies to my stomach. He readied his own stallion and sat up straight and tall in the saddle, gently giving me directions on how to start moving and to move myself in order to ride the most comfortably. He led by example, saying his commands loudly and clearly and emphasizing his movements so that I could copy him.

We rode together through the countryside, up a mountain trail that left me breathless for all of its natural beauty. We took a break near a peak, and he tied the horses to a tree and led me by the waist to a lookout point. We sat on a fallen tree together in the silence, overlooking the landscape in front of us. I had never seen anything like it before, and was dazzled by the scenery.

“I have never seen anything more beautiful than this," I said, my voice hushed with respect and admiration.

“Somehow I doubt that," Blake said, his handsome face breaking into a smile.

“Boston looks nothing like this," I said, shaking my head.

“But you've seen a mirror, haven't you?” He asked with a teasing wink.

I slapped his shoulder and we both chuckled, looking back out over the world below. It struck me then how much I wished that maybe my marriage to Blake wasn't just going to be a sham. If I was going to choose a husband, I don't think I could've chosen a better man myself. But that wasn't what he wanted, I had to try to keep that in mind. We had an agreement, and that was to keep each other company and leave each other alone.

This abrupt reminder sobered me, and I stood up with a sigh.

“Maybe we should head back now," I said. "It's nearly lunch time.”

He looked a little bit confused and hurt, but he nodded and didn't acknowledge it. He untied the horses and we rode together back to his homestead, where I helped him put the horses away before shutting myself into my bedroom. I had to try and keep it together, and not get too attached. I was worried he would think that I didn't want to spend time with him, but the problem was really much different. I wanted to spend time with him too much, probably more than anything in the world. But that's not what we had agreed to.

Chapter 7

That night, I knew that Blake was going to leave again. The moon was still full, and I heard the creaking sound that indicated him leaving. This time, I didn't bother to close the front door, or latch it. I didn't want any kind of reminder of the fact that Blake was gone or what had happened last night. I was feeling very reclusive because of how emotional I was feeling toward Blake. The feelings were complicated and I just wanted to be left alone and maybe not leave my bed for a few days. I fell asleep briefly, before I was woken up by something strange.

The horses outside were making a ruckus, so I stood up and pulled my nightshirt close, making my way toward the front door so that I could take a look and see what was happening. If there was a wolf, I thought that maybe I could take one of Blake's shotguns and protect the horses myself. Unfortunately, I didn't have any time to grab the gun before three men shoved their way inside the homestead. One of them grabbed me by the shoulders and cupped his hand over my mouth as I tried to cry out in fear.

“You shut your mouth missy, or this will be bad for the all of us,” he hissed.

The men began to fumble around in the home, throwing items in bags and joking with each other. I was terrified, and the man holding me kept saying gross things into my ear, and pushing his body to close to me. I squirmed and tried to get away, but he was too strong. My elbow wouldn't reaches John like I wished it would, and instead he seemed to enjoy the struggle, and pulled out a knife and held it to my throat, so I stopped. I wish that Blake didn't disappear and leave me vulnerable to these terrible bandits.

As soon as Blake entered my mind, I heard a growl come from outside of the front doorway. Before I could see what was happening, a massive black wolf leapt inside, burying its teeth in the man who was holding me. The man was furious and slashed at the wolf, slicing it in both its cheek and its shoulder. The wolf cried out in pain, sending a shiver through my body, and lunged at the man's throat, dragging him outside and tearing him apart. He did the same to the other men before they had the chance to shut the door on the wolf, and I heard their screams of pain and terror as the wolf protected me from them. I was frozen in place and expected to be the last to go. I thought the wolf would surely come and take me next, but instead, it entered and looked around the room, as if for another bandit. When the wolf didn't see anybody else, it turned its ice blue eyes on me and blinked slowly before turning away and running off into the forest.

**
I was too terrified to sleep that night, so I set up at the kitchen table and waited for him to return. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, and I cried as I remembered the sounds of the men being disemboweled by the wolf. I felt very grateful to be left alive, but all I wanted was some human company to soothe my nerves. Blake seemed to be very good at making me feel better, so I held my arms around my body until I heard a noise at the door.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I was about to reach for the shotgun that I put on the table when Blake entered. He was as naked as the day he was born, and just as beautiful. When he turned to look at me, I gasped. Beside his blue eyes was a long cut, the same size as the wound that had been left on the wolf. Impossible thoughts began to flood my mind, and I shook my head at them, unable to believe what I was seeing. It must have just been a coincidence, I tried to convince myself, but then I saw the same cut on his shoulder as well and everything began to fall into place in my mind.

“You're hurt," I said to him, approaching him cautiously. I opened and closed my mouth, and somehow he seems to know exactly what I was thinking.

“You're not crazy, but I had hoped that you would not find out like this."

“How did this happen? I don't understand. I thought this is just a myth."

“Well it's not," he said, as I led him toward the washbasin. I took a cloth out and poured some water on it to clean his wounds. I dabbed them gently and he didn't even flinch. “I didn't want to tell you, most people are just scared and they don't understand. I wish I could have been honest from the beginning. I needed a way because the townsfolk have been suspicious of me for a long time. And I didn't want to take a wife, not someone who I would make wolf pups with. She wouldn't know what to think when they started changing. Sometimes they even do it right in the womb and it feels like murder. No regular women would be able to handle that. I just wanted a simple life.”

He said the last part so mournfully that I brought him into my arms. He let me hold him closely, surprised by the fact that I wasn't more afraid of him. I felt him go from very tense to very relaxed and he sighed very deeply.

“It's been so lonesome, I couldn't be honest with anybody my whole life. And if anybody knew the truth they would burn me at the stake. Please don't tell anybody. I'll give you whatever you want. I'll pay you. Just please don't go, please keep being my wife.”

I pulled away from him and looked him deeply into the eyes.

“I have no intention of doing anything else," I said to him. “You may be the most bullheaded man I've ever met, but you're also the best man I've ever met, and the best man I could ever find myself being with. I've never known such a gentleman, even if you are part wild animal. What excuse did the other men have?”

We laughed together at this, and I sat the cloth back into the washbasin. Suddenly, his strong hands were around my waist, lifting me up to his mouth. He kissed me sweetly, and carried me into his bedroom. I felt the fire from the night before return, and he laid me on the bed and undressed me with skilled fingers. I felt a blush creep across my cheek as his tan mouth kissed my pale skin. I've never been quite so exposed to a man before, but I quickly forgot my modesty when his tongue found me deep inside and I buckled against him and cried out in pleasure.

This encouraged him to work more slowly, until he climbed up over me, showering my whole body with kisses as he reached my face and our middles were touching. I felt his long member growing stiff against me, swelling even bigger than I remembered it. I moaned loudly as he began to push himself inside, the both of us gasping and kissing each other passionately as he mounted me and took my virginity with one hard thrust. The combination of pleasure and pain brought my fingernails dragging down his back, and his handsome face broke out into a grin, sending another thrill through me as he unleashed his true animal nature on me.

His hands became tangled in my long hair as he showed me what a man was really capable of, and his perfect body shone in the golden sunrise peeking in at us through the windows. I closed my eyes and felt the fullness of my desire merging with his, and cried out in ecstasy as I became elevated into my climax. I squeezed my eyes closed tightly and bit my bottom lip as my body clenched tightly around him. He unleashed a deep growl of pleasure as the hot flood of his own lust burst deeply into me, letting me and elevating my climax to a whole new level.

He stayed inside me, lingering for a moment before he pulled himself out and flopped onto the bed, his face completely exhausted. I knew just how he had felt, considering I had been up most of the night. He pulled me close to him, wrapping his strong arms around my small body and nuzzling my ear and neck with his chin, which was beginning to feel a little bit stubbly. For some reason I found the scratching feeling of his face comforting and we fell asleep together, the most comfortable feeling I had ever had in my entire life.

Epilogue

Two weeks later, we were wed in one of the most beautiful and elaborate ceremonies I had ever witnessed. I had gone to many weddings before in my time, but nothing quick compared to what Blake had in mind. Surprisingly, most of the townsfolk attended the ceremony, even though it was held at the high peak in the mountain range where we had sat on the tree together after my first horseback ride.

The townsfolk were kind and supportive, and very curious and nosy. I could tell they had their suspicions about my new husband, and they wanted to know everything that I knew. They did their best to stay in my good side, hoping that if anything ever became revealed to me, I would feel confident in confiding in them. However, their fears did seem to be subsiding, and they didn't think that anybody could be part evil if he could land such a beautiful bride.

 

Although it bruised the egos of many women in the town, women who would never in 1 million years have been able to access Blake's unique identity, they were all very happy that he had found someone to settle down with. As far as Blake and I were concerned, as long as they didn't continue prying into our lives, everything would be all right. We could have a normal life.

After the ceremony, somebody hosted a large meal for us all, and we ate together and celebrated the love that Blake and I had recently developed toward each other. I felt like the luckiest woman alive to be with such a strong and able-bodied man who had a heart of gold. Even if he was picky and stubborn, he was still mine and I was the same way. The two of us had really met our match with each other, and I couldn't be any happier if I tried.

The night of our honeymoon rolled around and I lay in my new husband's arms after many hours of lovemaking. He seems to be tired, but I wasn't quite ready to be finished. I grinned mischievously and climbed on top of him. His tired eyes creaked open and I kissed him on the cheek.

“I don't think we're done yet," I whispered in his ear as I nibbled and licked him.

“We're not?" He asked, his voice sleepy.

“I can't rightfully stop until we've got a litter on the way. I know you want a regular family, and I want that for both of us to. It's up to you whether or not you want that, but if you do want pups, I don't mind being their Mama any more than I mind being your wife. I would love to be both.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he flashed me the smile that I come to love so dearly. He wrapped his arms around me and I could feel his excitement against my thighs.

“Are you sure that's what you want?" He asked me, kissing me all over my face.

“That's what I want. I love you," I said, my thighs hot against his.

“I love you too,” he said, his blue eyes deep and sincere. “Well alright, little darlin'. Looks like we got our work cut out for us.”

THE END

WEREWOLF RIDER

There was no moon tonight, nor were any stars visible. Clouds obscured the night sky, plunging the city into darkness. Pale streetlights illuminated the sidewalks, but they did not provide enough light to make Stella feel safe. The city had gone dark minutes after she'd left Missy's apartment, and it felt like more than just a coincidence. For a moment she considered turning back, but Missy had put up with her for the last week, and Stella knew she'd overstayed her visit. When she'd asked if she could camp out at Missy's place because she didn't feel safe alone, Missy hadn't been expecting her to stay for so long. If she turned back now, their already strained friendship might snap under the pressure. Missy had her own life to lead, and Stella had to accept that — no matter how scared she felt. It wasn't as if whoever was after her had caused a city wide blackout, after all. It was time she grew a backbone.

It had been two weeks since the paranoia had set in, but Stella had no idea how long the strange goings on had been happening before she first noticed them. The first time she'd noticed something had been amiss, she'd been heading through the downtown core at twilight. The sun stretched her shadow out across the sidewalk in front of her as she headed for the subway, and she'd had earphones tucked in to avoid unnecessary conversation with panhandlers. When the shadow had appeared in her field of vision, gaining on her from behind, she thought it was just a pedestrian in a hurry to get by her. Respectfully, Stella hugged the wall to allow him passage, but although the shadow grew to its full potential, its caster kept behind her. As the seconds passed and it became obvious the man was trailing her, Stella had hugged her purse to her side and turned her head.

There was no one behind her, and when she turned to look ahead of her once more, the shadow was gone.

Pinpricks of fear had shot down her spine, and the rest of the way home she'd thought about the strange shadow. Had it been a figment of her imagination, or a trick of the light? Stella wasn't sure. But by the next day the oddity had faded from her mind, and she'd continued on as she always had.

Only the shadow hadn't been ready to move on just yet.

The next time Stella saw it, she'd been gazing through a storefront window at an electronics display. Unemployed as she was, looking was all she could afford to do. When the shadow had darkened the glare on all of the screens, Stella had turned her head and was half way through an apology before she realized that not only did no one stand behind her, but that there was no one in eye sight on the street.

When the shadow had returned not six hours after she'd seen it at the storefront, Stella knew that something wasn't right. The next day, when she woke up to find three of them stretched across her floor in the light cast by her bedroom window, she had left her ground floor apartment and never looked back.

But Missy had been skeptical about these mysterious shadows, and Stella hadn't seen any more since she'd gone to stay with her old friend.

"Maybe," Missy had said in her infinite, catty wisdom, "you're seeing shadows because you are lonely. How long have you been unemployed now, Stella? I know that losing Will was tough, but eventually you're going to use your savings up and then where will you be? It's time you got a job and got back to work, time that you started meeting some people and having fun again. I think embracing life is going to fix these 'shadows' more than staying with me ever would."

At least when it was this dark outside, there weren't any shadows to be seen. With no light coming from any buildings to brighten the light, it was almost too dark to see her hand in front of her face. The advanced hour meant that there were few motorists, and Stella hadn't seen a car for a good ten minutes. With the subway down for the night, she was left to walk the distance between her place and Missy's.

"What are you doing out alone at night?" The voice spoke so close to her ear that Stella was sure the man was leaning over her shoulder as she walked. There had been no footsteps to forewarn her of his presence until he was already far too close for comfort. She'd shrieked, but the sound died quickly on her lips; the man clamped a broad hand over her lips and pulled her close.

"Do you want to die?" he asked. "If I wanted to, I already could have done plenty to make your life hell. Don't you think that if I was going to hurt you by now, I'd already have done it already?"

Caught in the darkness, all Stella had to go off of was the hand clamped against her mouth, the feel of his body against her back, and the sound of his voice. His chest was flat, hidden behind a thick layer of leather. The hand was gloved, but his fingers were bare. And he was tall. As Stella let her head fall back against him, she only hit his shoulder. She'd been right to be paranoid — someone had been stalking her, and he'd finally made himself known.

"If you want to live," he told her, "you're going to keep those pretty plump lips of yours closed, and you're going to come with me without a fight. You break away from me, I promise you you'll be dead — or worse — before you get three blocks. You follow my direction, you be good, and you'll get to keep your life. Nod if you understand."

Stella squeezed her eyes closed, praying to break from this nightmare, but when she opened them again she saw the darkness of the night and felt his gloved hand upon her. Tears beading in her eyes, she nodded. If only she'd turned back and begged Missy to let her stay just one more night, but it was too late for regrets. She'd been caught, and now she had to figure out how to get out with her life.

"Good girl," the man praised. The hand across her mouth dropped away, and he grabbed her by the wrist instead. Unable to see, he pulled her through the darkness and across the street. Stella nearly twisted her ankle on the curb, but even as she staggered, her aggressor did not slow. Wherever they were going, they had to get there fast.

Up another curb, and then along the side of a building. Stella's lungs began to burn as she struggled to keep pace, unspilled tears weighing down her lower eyelid as they crept along the surface of her eye. The man directed her around a sharp corner, then brought them to a stop.

"Don't move a muscle," he whispered through the darkness. Stella breathed in heavily, choking back a sob. "Stay tense. Do what I say."

Without further instruction, he released his grip on her wrist. Stella couldn't hear his footsteps, but instinct told her that the man wasn't standing next to her anymore. She was right. Seconds later, he swept her off of her feet and into his strong arms. Stella was only sure that it was him because of the fingerless gloves he wore.

"I'm going to put you down so you're sitting. You're going to keep your balance for me."

"Okay," she whispered. Whispering had to be fine, since he couldn't feel her nodding anymore. In hostage situations like this, as long as she didn't scream out for help, he wouldn't turn on her. Right?

"Putting you down now," he grunted. Thick, hard upholstery ran between her legs, but did not support them. Leather, had she to guess. So much leather. Her legs hung from either side, and before her, pressed against her groin, was a sturdy, metal compartment. When the man hopped on behind her, his heated body pressing against her back, Stella knew exactly where she sat. This was a motorcycle, and the man behind her, in the leather jacket and with the fingerless gloves was—

The bike roared to life all at once, and Stella jumped.

"Hold the fuck on," the man behind her barked. The headlights flicked on, and Stella saw them. The shadows. They stretched out from the surrounding darkness, reaching out for her. With a shriek of terror she clamped onto the hand grips as the stranger behind her kicked it into high gear. The hog ripped down the street, engine roaring as if to issue a warning. When Stella turned her head to look into the darkness they'd just left, she saw half a dozen sets of red eyes glinting through the darkness.

They'd been coming for her.

And as they shot down the street and skidded around a corner, Stella saw that the eyes were following, moving at an unnatural pace.

"Holy shit!" she gasped.

"Keep 'em closed!" the man behind her snarled. The sound of his voice was primal and fierce, and it was enough to shut Stella up. Unable to watch their advance any longer, she turned her attention back to the road. They were heading for the highway, speedometer chasing eighty through the twisting city streets.

Right as they swerved to take the on ramp, a second hair of headlights joined theirs. Another engine roared its greeting as a second bike fell in line beside them. In tandem the two riders hit the highway. Streetlights lit the roads here, and they wove around other drivers to a symphony of honks and shouts. Stella glanced over her shoulder to notice two things. The first was that the sector of the city they'd just left was plunged in total darkness. The second was man on the hog at their side. He was lean, but sleek. A full helmet covered his head, black visor glinting beneath the streetlights, angular black casing giving him a futuristic appearance. He wore a black leather jacket and riding gloves, dark jeans and black combat boots. It was as though he'd wanted to blend into the shadows.

The shadows and their ghastly eyes had given up the chase. Had the wind not been whipping at her so viciously, Stella might have sighed in relief, but the wild ride left no time for that. Instead, she contented herself with the sight of the city disappearing behind them. They'd hopped onto the interstate, and although she had no idea where it was going, Stella had a feeling that she would much rather be in the company of these two men than the legion of shadows behind her.

"Just keep holding on, girlie," the man behind her cried above the deafening wind. "We got you now."

Who 'we' was was yet to be determined, but despite the frightening introduction, Stella had peace of mind for the first time in weeks.

The city disappeared behind them, and with it, her troubles. What new dangers lurked on the horizon were beyond her for the moment, and she was grateful for it.

Peace at last. Stella could get used to that

Chapter Two

Both bikes pulled for the exit at the same time, and slowed for the first time all night. Plains stretched for as far as she could see, speckled intermittently with farmland, yet still their journey continued. Past the service center, past the only restaurant in town, and then out onto the narrow country roads. The second biker fell behind them, but it seemed to matter little. He revved the engine and cut across the grass on the side of the road, heading towards a large farmhouse in the distance. The bike Stella was on waited to turn off until it had hit the driveway, likely to keep an inexperienced passenger like her from toppling off. Even at low speeds, Stella was sure that falling would be catastrophic.

Both bikes crawled to a stop before the house. The porch light was on, as were the inside lights.

The second driver was the first to come to a stop, and by the time Stella and her biker had caught up, he had hopped off of his hog and pulled the helmet from his head. A mop of unruly blonde hair shone beneath the moonlight, which he shook free with delight. He had to be about her age, Stella thought. Somewhere in his mid twenties. Youth still clung to his features, but his jaw was sharp and beautiful, and the shape of his eyes was innocent and arresting. The blonde tucked his helmet beneath his arm and looked at the two of them.

"That was close, Derek," he accused.

"As if," the man behind her barked. He hopped off of the bike then set his hands upon Stella's waist, lifting her off the bike whether she wanted down or not. "I was in control the whole time."

"Yeah. Right. Well, I happen to think your theatrics almost got all of us killed."

"Thinking is pretty fucking pointless, Tristen. Are we dead? No. We're alive. So thinking about what could have happened is stupid. I was in control, I got us out alive, and we got back the girl."

"Her name's Stella," Tristen rebutted. Stella's gaze shot to him, and he returned her stare without flinching. "That's right, isn't it?"

Of course it was right, but how did he know? What was happening? Stella looked over her shoulder at the man who'd taken her hostage and whisked her away from the city. He was taller than Tristen by a few inches, and looked older by a few years. His hair was kept short enough that it wasn't windswept, but had it been longer she felt it would have matched Tristen's. Blondes, the both of them. Slightly darker stubble lined his jaw, and since he'd fished her from the bike, he'd planted a cigarette between his lips and was digging for a lighter in the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Can one of you tell me what's happening?" Stella asked, looking back and forth between them.

"You mean you don't know?" Tristen asked.

"Course she doesn't," Derek replied curtly. He flicked the ignition wheel of the lighter down and flame burst forth to envelope the end of his cigarette. A short draw saw the cherry light. "She was walking through the goddamn city in the dark. You think she would have done that if she knew?"

Tristen's lips tightened. Their bickering was getting her nowhere, and there were a lot of questions Stella needed answered before she could find any kind of peace. Before they continued, she interrupted.

"You guys can fight later. Right now I need to know what those shadows are, who you are, and why you came to my rescue… If this is my rescue."

It had crossed her mind that two grown men bringing a woman to a house in the middle of nowhere could very well mean they meant her harm, but both of them had seemed like good enough people she didn't feel in danger. Tristen was gorgeous and ethereal, and Derek was the bad egg. If anything, it looked like they'd harass each other more than they'd bother her.

"You're Will's girl, aren't you?" Derek asked. As he spoke, he leaned over her shoulder and sniffed at her, as though he was smelling her shampoo. Stella tensed, squaring her shoulders and side stepping to put some distance between them. At that proximity, she'd heard each greedy little breath he'd taken. "You smell like Will's girl. You should know about all this shit."

Both of them knew too much. Stella crossed her arms as she distanced herself, standing near the porch. Tristen had known her name. Derek had known about Will. What game were they playing? She'd remember meeting guys as handsome as they were.

"How do you know about Will?"

Both blondes looked at her, mirror expressions of surprise. Tristen was the one who broke the tension, raising a hand to his forehead as if to lament the question.

"He never told her about any of it."

"What a fucking shitty thing to do." Derek took a deep drag on his cigarette and let the smoke curl upwards into the night sky. "You go inside. I'm going to talk to her. It's my place."

Tristen's eyes shot towards Derek, then he bowed his head and huffed a sigh.

"Right. Just be nice, okay? She's been through a lot."

Without any more argument, Tristen brushed past her and headed up the three stairs leading to the exterior porch. He opened the front door and slipped into the house, and Stella thought she heard voices raise to greet him from inside. Was this a prostitution circle? A drug ring? A gang hideout? Whatever it was, she was starting to feel more and more uncertain. There was a reason they wanted to keep their secrets, and if Will was caught up in this somehow, then Stella didn't know if she wanted to hear it.

"Let's sit." Derek gestured towards the porch stairs, unzipping the front of his jacket to take advantage of the night air. Beneath he was wearing a tight white t-shirt, so tight Stella could see just how toned he was. Derek had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. His was the body women dreamed of, and men spent hours in the gym attempting to achieve. Stella wasn't so blinded by Will's loss that she didn't take notice. Derek was a distraction — maybe the distraction she'd been waiting for.

Stella took a seat upon the porch, feet planted on the steps leading up to it, and Derek settled down beside her. He fixed either of his elbows on his knees and plucked the cigarette from his lips, exhaling deeply.

"So, Will," he began. The words trailed off and got lost into nothingness. "We knew Will. We knew Will really fucking well. You might say he was family, in an official-unofficial way, and when he died, all of us were wrecked by it."

Even now the memory stung. Stella bit down on her bottom lip to keep from thinking about it.

"I've never heard about any of you," she told him point blank. "Will was always isolated. He didn't really hang out with anyone. Where did you know him from?"

Derek snorted and flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette.

"Maybe that's the Will he led you to believe was the real deal, but that's not him at all. All that work he did? All those times he was out of time on business? Those times were with us."

Drug dealers or gang members. Stella set her jaw. Will had told her he was a business representative for one of the big companies in town, and she'd always thought it was strange that he was so successful at only twenty-seven years old. Although Derek's story was strange, it wasn't out of the question.

"And the business we do isn't conventional business. None of us are really conventional guys, by your standards. Neither was Will." Derek cleared his throat and sat for a moment, thinking. When he spoke again, there was no humor in his tone.

"We're werewolves. The whole lot of us. And Will was, too. But now he's dead. And that means trouble."

Werewolves. Had he not sounded so serious, Stella might have laughed. But as Derek spoke the words, she remembered the shadows and the red eyes behind her. And Derek had snuck up on her effortlessly. Uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach, and she looked at Derek as he puffed on his light.

"What kind of trouble does that mean? Are you talking about the shadows that have been stalking me?"

"Yup. That's a big part of it. You see, Will wasn't just a werewolf. He was kind of our boss. Our alpha, if you will. And without him, well, no one really knows where they stand. And the problem with that is, other packs of werewolves know that we've got our heads on backwards right now, and they're moving in on our territory and trying to make sure we never get back on track."

Maybe she was still at Missy's house, and all of this was a surreal dream. Stella inhaled deeply, the scent of Derek's smoke and leather on the air. The night air was crisp, and her face still tingled from the whipping of the wind after their high speed escape. As far as Stella could tell, this was real.

"So why are they after me?" she asked. "And why did you swoop in to save me like you did?"

"You're Will's girl." Derek fanned his fingers out against the night, stretching his arms. "You're all that's left of him now. Whoever you choose amongst us is who's going to lead the pack as alpha. That wolf will be our new boss. If the other pack of wolves got a hold of you, did you in, we'd probably never figure out who would lead without destroying each other in the process. But the decision of the alpha female is absolute. You get the first and final say."

Fantasy and reality wove one amongst the other, and Stella looked across the vast plains and to the night sky that stretched across the horizon. Stars hung like specks of paint flicked across a canvas there. What a picture Derek had painted for her.

"Then I choose you," she said without looking at him. "You were the one who came to my rescue when I needed it the most, and without you I'd be dead. You've got the courage that it takes to lead, so I pick you."

"Not so simple, girlie," Derek said with a little sigh. He tugged on the collar of his jacket and settled it anew against his shoulders. "It's more than that. You don't choose with your words — you choose with your body."

The ruffle of leather and of his solid body shifting upon the groaning wood of the porch broke through the night. Stella turned her head to look, and found Derek staring her down from an arm length's away.

"My body?" she asked. It was little more than a whisper. Will had died more than a year ago, and since then she'd never seriously considered another man. Will. Tall and strong, but with a kind, sweet face and a sense of humor a mile thick. He'd been perfect for her, and she was sure they'd be together forever. But a year was a long time to be alone — Missy was right. She'd been suffering by lingering on his memory as obsessively as she had. Maybe it was time to move on. Maybe this whole mess was beneficial for her sanity.

Maybe Derek was the right kind of guy to fill that immediate need.

"You'll take a new wolf as your mate," Derek told her. The words were as delicately put as hers, but they were loaded with subtle heat, "and that new wolf will lead us all. All of us are depending on you to make the right choice, Stella. It's up to you to lead us right."

Beneath the moonlight, the cut of his jaw and the slope of his brow cast gorgeous, dangerous shadows across his face. Derek snubbed his cigarette on the back of the stair he sat upon and flicked the stub aside. A last plume of smoke curled upward from between his lips, his eyes upon her.

"So if I wanted to choose you," she muttered, the words toppling from her lips one by one, hesitant to spill forth, "then I'd need to..."

Little by little he'd closed the distance between them without her noticing, and now their thighs nearly brushed together. To make her choice, she was going to have to take one of the wolves as her mate. Derek was asking her to give herself over entirely to one of them, asking her to make a choice Stella would have never sought to make on her own. And Derek, so sure of himself and strong, was the most irresistible of them all.

Stella turned her head to look towards him. Even the small gesture felt difficult, as though she moved through syrup instead of through air. Stella swallowed hard, letting her eyes trail over his sharp features as he ate her up with his eyes. It was the same kind of gravity she had felt when she was with Will, and Stella began to wonder if it wasn't an attraction to werewolves rather than a unique attraction to the man. Right now it didn't seem to matter. For the first time in a year she wasn't thinking about Will, wasn't mourning him.

Derek had filled his space, even if only temporarily.

"Yeah," Derek murmured. Around them, crickets chirped and in the distance an owl hooted. The landscape was alive with music, as though nature existed just to serenade them. A tremble ran through Stella's core. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the realization of her mortality after her confrontation with the shadows, but she felt ready to make a decision. A rash decision. It had been a long time since she'd done anything so mindlessly.

Full lips parted, and Stella brushed a strand of her brown hair nervously behind her ear. The last of her inhibitions fled. The smell of leather and tobacco were thick on the air now that Derek had drawn closer, and she couldn't get enough of it.

"Then let me make my choice," she murmured. Little by little their faces drew close, Derek's lips her only focus. Thin, hard, and masculine. How acrid would the smoke leave? What might his mouth taste like?

Their lips brushed, but Derek did not give her the pleasure of kissing her in full. Instead, he grabbed her by the wrist just as he had back in the city.

"Let me take you somewhere a little more private," he whispered. As he spoke, his lips brushed against hers and promised intimacies the likes she hadn't experienced the course of a long, lonely year.

Derek propped himself up from porch and pulled her to her feet, and together they strode from the front of the house and forward a barn across a vast stretch of land in the backyard.

Today had been the stuff of storybooks, but Stella's fantasy had just begun.

Chapter Three

Derek's strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders, was with a ferocious shove he pushed her to the ground. A pile of loose straw broke her fall, and strands of it caught the air stirred by her ungraceful topple backwards. In the dull light of the night, streaming through the cracks between the wooden slats that made up the barn and through the open door behind them, Stella could see Derek's mischievous smirk. Above her he was little more than one of the shadows that had hunted her back in the city, but Stella felt no fear. Derek had rescued her once before, and although his intentions were not pure, she knew them to be in her best interest.

"I was his right hand man, you know," he rumbled from in front of her, catching her eye as she sank down amongst the straw. It was much more coarse and uncomfortable than she'd anticipated, but Stella found she didn't mind. Derek had her heart pounding. "I'm the strongest in the pack now, and the most able. You aren't making a mistake."

Then he was upon her. As smooth as frost settling across a field of grass, he dropped down over her and lowered his body atop hers. In him she saw Will's passion and heart. In him was a taste of the recklessness Will had always had, and Stella craved to call those traits hers again.

"Honestly," she whispered, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him close, "I don't care right now. You were the one to save me. You were the one to take charge. Now, you're the one who's going to get the reward."

A low, pleased growl rolled in the back of Derek's throat as he looked down upon her. He had himself propped up on his palms, his torso pressed against hers to purposefully let her feel his stirring erection. The atmosphere between them still felt thick, and Stella felt the arousal stirring deep within her in correspondence. Missy was right. It was time she got out and met some people. Tonight, she was going to meet Derek's every inch.

"Mine," he uttered. Derek shouldered off his leather jacket and tossed it aside. Hay crinkled beneath its weight, and for the first time, Stella felt the true heat of his body. Just like Will, Derek ran hot. She'd always found it so strange how a human body could feel so heated without being sick. Now she understood. Will had never been completely human, and Derek wasn't human, either.

With his jacket removed, Derek no longer hesitated. Their lips met at last, full and hard. With one broad hand he gripped her hair and held her down amongst the straw as he claimed their lips. It was the same ritual she'd always shared with Will, but now, without the gentle redeeming qualities her deceased love possessed, the act was wild and raw and exciting. Harsh. Lustful but void of emotion. It was everything she needed.

Thick smoke flavored his lips and mouth, but it did not stop her. Derek was a bad boy, exactly the kind of wild man she'd never want her mother to know she was attracted to, let alone curled up with in a hay pile. But when his tongue pushed its way into her mouth to meet hers, Stella thought of nothing else but the feel of his body.

Her hands gripped at him tight, and even as he pulled at her hair, she struggled with him and rolled him over. There would be no giving in, no submission. Tonight Stella wanted to play hard, and there was no better partner for some rough treatment than Derek.

Punishment came quickly. His teeth sunk into her bottom lip to scold her and put her back in her place, and Stella inhaled sharply with joint pain and pleasure.

A flurry of kisses and nips. Derek tugged at Stella's hair, and Stella sank her nails into his shoulders. Each pinprick of pain led to pleasure, and it wasn't long before she felt pulsing pleasure spread through her abdomen as desire grew. She wanted him. She needed him. Tonight she would give him her body, and with it, control of the pack she had inherited from Will.

Derek's clothes came off, baring his gorgeous, chiseled chest and hard abs. Between wild kisses and animalistic pain, Derek stripped his boxers away to reveal the cock that had hardened as they played. Thick and dripping for her. Stella had never seen so much precum, and her eyes darted between his cock and his eyes as her humanity gave way to her arousal. Sex, and only sex, would sate the desire he'd stirred inside of her. She wanted to feel him work his hot precum through her. She wanted to be left sopping with his load, dirty with his seed.

And Derek wasn't going to deny her for much longer.

Another growl left his lips, this one fiercer than before. There was no mistaking it — the passion of the wolf coursed through his veins. No human could make noises like the ones that escaped him. Everything he'd told her that night was true. Derek was a werewolf, and she didn't doubt that Tristen was one as well.

Amongst the slatted shadows of the barn, Derek yanked her panties free and ran a finger along the slit of her sex, testing how wet she'd become for him. Stella hadn't realized just how drenched she was until he brought her attention to it — never had she been so soaked. Derek had awoken the wilderness inside of her, and she was loath to let it go.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Am I going to fuck you like you deserve. It's a good thing Will never told me what a little hot and needy thing you are, or I might have gone after you while he was still alive. But now you're mine, and nothing's going to get between that."

Stella's thighs were willfully parted, and Derek had no trouble maneuvering the both of them into position. Nestled amongst the hay, wrapped up in the bad boy's arms, the werewolf took her. The thick head of his cock forced its way into her tight entrance, near splitting her apart. Stella cried out and tightened her hold around his neck, unused to such harsh treatment. A year was a long time for her not to have sex after a voracious sex life shared with Will, and she was out of practice. Derek would get her back in shape before long.

The curved length of his cock slipped inside of her, pushing the crown in further. How it throbbed and pulsed. Derek had just begun, but already his warmth had begun to flood her. Heated precum spilled in abundance to coat her walls and work its way towards her womb, and the danger became real. Stella wasn't on birth control, and she wasn't going to make Derek pull out. Tonight she was beyond herself with lust, and she already knew that she wanted him to lose control deep inside of her. For him, a moment of selfish pleasure might just change the rest of her life, and the cruel injustice of it was as arousing as any of the pain they'd shared.

Derek began to rut. The thrusts were not soft or introductory, but loaded and senseless. Bestial humping with one purpose in mind — to cum quick, and cum hard. Stella's body replied back in kind, rising and falling against his thrusts as he chased moan after moan from her lips. Pleasure was mounting quickly, and it wouldn't be long before she came.

"Derek," a panted gasp. "Derek, I need to..."

"Don't you fucking dare," he hissed. "Don't you fucking dare do it until I cum first."

Aggressive, dominant, and greedy, Derek was pushing her towards the edge. A brash asshole, maybe, but undeniably hot, Stella knew she'd made the right choice. The only choice.

"Then cum fast," she gasped. "Cum fast, because I don't know how much longer I can hold this back."

Pleasure had begun to spiral out of control, intensifying and welling deep in her gut as he used her body like his toy. And when she saw him grit his teeth and furrow his brow in ecstasy, and felt the first hot streams of cum start to fill her, Stella could not hold it back anymore. As Derek pushed as deep as he could inside of her to spill his seed again her womb, Stella's orgasm hit. Shuddering waves of pleasure rushed through her sex, and she gasped and cried out as she tightened around his shaft. Fluttering contractions drew his cum deeper, but she couldn't hold it back. She wanted his cum in her womb. There was nothing hotter than imagining herself swelling with his gorgeous offspring after an unprotected night amongst the hay.

Derek was the first to settle, and he collapsed against her body as his cock grew flaccid. Even as he lost his erection, Stella's pleasure continued. The waves of lust grew weaker and weaker until they had stop, but even after finding her release, she found herself craving more. One load of cum was not enough; she needed to cum around Derek's cock again, and feel him lose control to her once more.

But before she could make her desire clear, Derek picked himself up from on top of her and brushed they hay from his body.

"Thanks," he said. From amongst their belongings he fished his boxers, and jumped into them without hesitation. From wild and heated to cold and distant, his attitude had taken an unexpected turn. Stella set her lips and studied him as he continued to dress. Was that really it?

"I'm going to head back inside and get the boys ready," Derek said simply. "We ride tonight. Now that I'm in charge, we're going to take the city back and reclaim all the land that is rightfully ours. And no wolf is going to stand in our way."

Had all that passion and the chemistry between them really been a ploy? Stella felt regret begin to set in. Yes, she'd chosen hastily, and yes, she wasn't invested in the pack, but she thought that she'd shared a genuine connection with Derek, an instant attraction that had left her breathless. But it seemed like she was mistaken.

"I guess camp out here while we take care of business. I'll send someone out to pick you up once the coast is clear. Feel free to use the house; it's ours."

Ours. She wondered how he meant it — hers and his, or his and the packs? Stella was near positive he meant the latter.

As he strode from the barn, Derek tucked a hand into the pocket of his coat and withdrew a cigarette from a carton kept within. The last thing Stella saw before he left was the flash of ignition from a lighter. The smell of tobacco wafted back to keep her company.

What had felt so right and natural now felt wrong, and she twisted amongst the hay to try to chase the feeling from inside of her. Nothing quite seemed to work.

It was a lonely night in the middle of nowhere, alone with her regrets. But eventually, Stella saw herself into one of the bedrooms in the farm house and chased sleep. It had been a hell of a day, and she was eager for a brighter tomorrow.

Chapter Four

There was to be no more hiding. Engines revved and roared through the dead of night as they cut off the highway and back into the city. Nine wolves strong, now unified beneath an anointed alpha, they would fight until victory or lose their lives to defeat. There would be no other way.

Derek led them on a circuit through the streets, one he was sure would draw the eyes of every unwelcome aggressor that had dared move in while their forces were weak. Will's death had been kept a secret for months and months, but no news stayed hidden forever. Just as the pack had found Stella at long last, so too had the other wolves discovered their dissolved ranks. Tonight, every wrong would be righted.

Nine burly motorcycles ripped their way through the residential area and into the industrial sector. Factories, abandoned at this hour, were lit up by security lights along their exteriors. Vast parking lots and unloading areas offered flat terrain that would serve them well for battle away from prying eyes. Electronic scramblers would take care of any security cameras, and Tristen had already overseen to their activation. Maybe his kid brother wasn't as strong as he was, but he knew about the kind of smart shit Derek could never be bothered with. Tinkering with toys was meant for boys; Derek hadn't been a boy in a long time.

Before they'd drawn to a stop, red eyes appeared in the distance, staring them down. The pack was smaller than their own — Derek could tell by scent alone — but it had likely been unified under a competent alpha for long enough to be dangerous. But Derek knew his men, and knew his own strength, and found himself unconcerned. They could do this, would do this, and nothing was going to hold them back.

With grace only afforded by the wolf, one by one his pack jumped from their bikes to hit the ground on all fours. Fearsome, oversized grey wolves appeared one by one in the place of the men who'd once rode. Tristen was the last of his underlings to transform, and once he had, Derek swung his leg from over his bike and gazed unflinchingly at the red eyes in the distance. Now, the red eyes of their grey wolves gazed back in return.

"If you leave now," Derek called, voice stern and unwavering, "if you willingly vacate the territory you have stolen from my pack, we will let you leave in one piece. This is your only warning."

His words were punctuated by the snarls of eight other wolves, but the red eyes were not swayed by the display. Instead, one by one, they approached. If it was a fight they wanted, it was a fight they were going to get.

"As you will," Derek called out. "We gave you fair warning, and we gave you a shot at keeping your lives. You have no one to blame for your death than yourself."

Another volley of snarls, but these ones ripped from the maws of the approaching wolves. For as dire as the situation was, Derek grinned. After a fuck the likes of the one he'd just had, a fight was just what he needed. The taste of blood and the crunch of bone would stir the animal inside.

The ninth grey wolf joined its companions, and the two packs sprung at each other through the darkness.

The night bled, and one by one, sets of red eyes blinked out of existence.

Chapter Five

Morning had begun to light the horizon when Stella was stirred from her sleep. Amber rays of light shot across the bedroom floor from between the gaps in the curtains, giving her just enough light to see the young man who stood at the foot of her bed.

The light of the rising sun caught his eyes, and for a second they flashed red. A gasp caught in Stella's throat, but she did not vocalize it; recognition had struck her in the same moment. Tristen. The blonde stood at the foot of her bed, overlooking her. For a moment, nothing was said. Their eyes locked, and then his lips parted to speak.

"Derek wants you back in the city. We won."

There was a hollow quality to his voice and a haunted look in his eyes. The win had given him no joy.

Beneath the thick quilt, Stella was undressed. Her clothes were folded next to the bed on the floor next to her shoes, and she was sure Tristen would have noticed her bare shoulders if not the clothes at her bedside.

The physical contact they'd shared last night had acted as a contract, and now she was bound to Derek. Returning to him did not feel like a pleasure. Stella shifted beneath the blankets and drew them up further over her shoulders in an attempt to hide.

"I don't want to go," she admitted. "I don't want anything to do with this. Not anymore."

Last night's carefree behavior had left her emotionally raw. Was she really supposed to spend the rest of her life with a man that had made her beg for it, only to leave her when she needed more?

"That's not going to happen," Tristen said reluctantly. It seemed her picked up on her discomfort easily, and sympathized with it. "You're with the pack, and you've been with the pack since you bonded with Will. Now that we've found you and you're back with us, we're not letting you go again."

"Then don't make me go back with Derek," she said. "Let me go back to my apartment to be on my own. He isn't the one I want."

Beautiful blonde hair, slender ethereal features, soulful eyes. Tristen wasn't as powerful or as strong willed as Derek was, but there was something charming and personable about him. Stella pursed her lips and observed his from where she lay.

"You made your choice." Tristen settled on the edge of the bed, looking her over. Regret. Genuine regret pulled his features taut.

"I want to change my choice," Stella said. "I didn't think on it long enough. I regret what I've done."

The situation was less than ideal for any of them, she knew, but this was the rest of her life they were playing with.

"What are you saying?" he asked. "Last night you chose Derek. All of us could... Smell it. You can't just go against that."

"Why not? It's an easy mistake to fix. We could fix it right now."

Maybe it was a desperate fix, but the bad boy she'd had fun with last night wasn't the right man to take care of her heart. Tristen, gorgeous and yet sensitive, was a far better fit for the long term.

Tristen's eyes flicked down her covered body briefly, then up to her eyes. Hesitance.

"Derek's the alpha now," he muttered, "you shouldn't try to go against him."

"We shouldn't try to go against him," Stella said. She sat up, the blankets falling from her shoulders and down to her lap to expose her bare chest. Modest, supple breasts hung pert for Tristen to ogle.

"We," he uttered, breathless. The idea had struck him hard and left him bothered, and Stella could almost smell the lust on the air. Tristen was interested in her, and she was interested in him. It wasn't just a tactic to break the bond she'd forged with Derek, but a sincere interest in the quiet, younger version of the alpha she'd christened.

"We," Stella confirmed. She smoothed her hand over the quilt beside her, inviting him. "Come here. I changed my mind, and I can't bear the thought of giving myself to Derek forever."

A canine whine hitched at the top of Tristen's throat, needy and yet reluctant. Breaking the alpha's trust went against the nature of the pack, but Tristen's desire fought his instinct and better judgment. He kicked off his shoes and turned to crawl across the bed, the movement languid but loaded with desire, until he'd straddled her legs and they were face to face. Tristen's face bore features similar to Derek's, and even without being told as much, Stella knew they had to be brothers. They were far too similar in looks for it to be a coincidence, although their personalities were as different as could be.

"I shouldn't," Tristen whispered. The tips of their noses brushed, providing a soft intimacy that warmed her heart and filled the hole that Derek's cold treatment had torn through her soul. His words told her one thing, but his actions told another. Tristen did want it, but he didn't want to admit it.

"The alpha female's word is absolute," Stella whispered back. With a slight turn of her head she let the tip of the nose trail down the length of his, allowing their lips to brush. Where Derek had smelled of smoke and tobacco, Tristen smelled of the woods and days spent beneath the sun. And he was gorgeous. "And I've changed my mind. You're the one I want to care for me."

There were no more words. Their lips met, soft and hesitant at first, but then harder and needier. Stella's hand rose to the back of Tristen's neck to run up and tangle in his blonde hair as the passion mounted between them. One of his palms, once flat against the bed, rose to cup and caress her breast. Touching her was something Derek had never thought to do — he had been selfish in his desires.

As they kissed, Tristen pulled the sheets back to expose the length of her body. The hand at her breast dipped down to run along the slender curve between her side and her hip, and traced over the small, soft curve of her stomach. His touch brought her alive as Will's touch always had, almost like magic. Stella could not resist a tiny moan.

"Do you know," Tristen murmured as their lips parted, "about the bond shared between true mates?"

Stella's mind felt clouded by fog. Tristen's touch left her wanting more, but also had her feeling wonderful. The way he touched her made her feel appreciated and cared for, and after the impersonal treatment Derek had given her the night before, it was a welcome relief.

"No," she whispered, then caught his lips for another quick kiss. Will hadn't told her anything of werewolves, and what Derek had told her was the bare bones, barely enough for her to wet her toes in the knowledge of the supernatural. There was more to learn, and Stella felt like she'd be learning for a long time to come.

"True mates," Tristen whispered, "happen to meet each other rarely, but when they touch, they know right away. Just a finger traced across the skin feels electric."

To punctuate his sentence, Tristen ghosted his index finger across her naked thigh. The touch rode up like sparks across her skin and made her heart flutter with desire. Not since Will had she felt this way. Will had made her heart shudder with delight until the very end, and his touch had lit her soul on fire every time. True mates, a voice in the back of her mind whispered to her, speaking the truth. Will had been her true mate. But now Tristen's touch elicited the same sensations, and Stella felt her cheeks grow pink with flushed arousal.

"And has anyone ever had two true mates before?" Stella murmured, butterflies rising from her stomach to lift her words and spirits.

"The soul can love more than once," Tristen confirmed. "No one's love will be the same, but the feelings are just as valid. I know that you loved Will, but from the moment I saw you on Derek's bike, I thought there was something special about you, but I got too tongue tied to say anything, and Derek wasn't helping things."

The confession was mild and gradual, but it felt right. Stella found herself smiling.

"This is all really sudden." Her hand trailed down the back of his neck at to his shoulder, the same delightful sensation rising from her digit and up her arm. How wonderful it was to feel like this again. "But I feel it, too. After what happened with Derek, I knew I'd made a mistake. And I promise that I'm going to fix it. I'm not letting myself down again, not after how I've let myself down this past year."

Tristen's smile was worth whatever suffering or struggle she'd have to go through to set things right. If she really was the alpha female, Stella knew she had power. Just how much power she had was to be determined in the hours to follow, but for right now, what she wanted was to solidify her bond with Tristen.

"I trust you," he told her, "just as Will trusted you. He wouldn't have picked you if you didn't have a good head on your shoulders. I know we'll make it out okay."

And with his assurance, Tristen brought their lips together once more. Even after the brief amount of time they'd spent talking, Stella found she missed his touch. Now they would not split again.

Piece by piece, Tristen's clothes met the floor. His chest was smooth and flat, but not as firm or muscular as Derek's. His body lean and agile, but not built for absolute power. And when his pants and boxers descended, and she was treated to a view of what lay beneath...

Some things ran in the family.

Tristen was thick, and the slit of his cock dripped just as Derek's had. Sex between them would be messy, and she knew he'd leave her dripping with his secretions once she'd driven him to orgasm. And this morning, she was going to treat his body to pleasures untold. Sex with the chemistry they had was going to be fantastic, and Stella anticipated a future filled with it.

Union between them was effortless. Already her body had begun to respond to his, anticipating his every move. Amongst long limbs and soft caresses, Tristen found his way between her legs. And then, Tristen was inside of her.

After sex with Derek the night before, Stella was sore, but stretched. Tristen fit tight, but he did not wreck her as Derek had. Instead, there was a tender quality to the joining of their bodies that she couldn't get enough of. Tristen ravaged her, and yet she felt as though he did not take her for granted. A deeper connection ran between them than an exchange of power and fluids.

What started as slow and passionate evolved into something faster and closer to animalistic. The wolf began to stir inside of him, and a possessive growl rumbled in his throat and rattled her lips as they kissed. In and out, over and over, he worked himself inside of her, and when orgasm hit, it hit hard. Stella cried out into the empty house as she clenched down around him, and as she dove into the pleasure he had shared with her, he found his release as well. Hot cum, intimate instead of taboo, filled her and marked her with his scent.

Mates.

But this time, Stella did not regret her choice.

There was still a lot of strife to face that she'd brought onto herself, but all was not lost yet. And as Tristen settled at her side and showered her with soft kisses and gentle affections during the afterglow of their sex, she knew she had not chosen poorly this time around. What she'd found was worth fighting for. Stella would set her life right — she owed it to herself, and she owed it to him.

Chapter Six

The howl of the wind deafened Stella and sent her hair whipping back as they sped from the pack's farmland hideaway and towards the city. Tristen's lithe body sat in front of her, and she gripped him from behind so as not to fall off. His bike was identical to Derek's, but already Stella felt different. Raw excitement and the thrill of the unknown had faded, and now Stella felt secure and appreciated. The affection Tristen had shown her trumped Derek's wild streak, and she knew she'd made the right choice for her. The right choice for all of them.

Tristen rode just as aggressively as Derek did, but he did it with an ease that made the ride seem safe. The bike cut through the streets and wove around cars and other obstacles like water around pebbles down a stream.

Finally, Tristen skidded to a stop in front of an old apartment building. A crumbling facade and old window frames betrayed its age, and Stella thought that it seemed familiar. Then again, she'd been all over the city with Will. Before it had seemed like innocent wanderlust, but now she knew the true reason for his interest in every nook and cranny — it was his territory, and he was keeping it safe.

Stella's hand slipped into Tristen's, and he led her up the old staircase inside the lobby and to the fourth floor. Three sharp knocks on the door saw it opened by a young man with brown hair and a long nose, who looked over them both with a somber expression. Scent spoke for them, she guessed. There was no hiding a bond from wolves.

The walls of the apartment had been knocked down to create one large, open space joined through a large archway with the next unit, which was similarly opened. A den. And the men who visited there treated it as a home away from home.

And there, amongst a cluster of couches and chairs, most torn to shreds, sat Derek. When he lifted his eyes to look at them as they entered, Stella thought he might bare his teeth and attack. Had Tristen entered on his own, she was sure he would have. Her presence kept him in check.

"What the fuck is happening," Derek hissed from where he sat. His arms were draped over the back of the couch, legs spread. The man oozed authority and power, and Stella would have trembled had she not already faced death down just the day before. It was time to stop being afraid. Now she shared Tristen's heart after such a long time mourning Will's loss, and she was ready to move on and be happy.

"The word of the alpha female is law," Stella declared, clutching Tristen's hand that much harder, "and I've made a decision. Tristen and I share a bond, and I will be his mate."

Derek's body tensed, and he rose up from the couch in one smooth motion. Angry, he looked much bigger than he already was, but Stella would not back down.

"But as the alpha female," she continued, "as Will's chosen mate, I know what's best for the pack. You will continue to lead us. You will rule. But my happiness is with Tristen, and you — and all of the pack — are going to have to accept that."

Derek's lips tightened, but he did not continue his approach. Instead, he dug his hands into his pockets.

"And if I take a mate?" he asked.

"Then she will serve as alpha female in my place," Stella declared. "As the present alpha female of the pack, that's what I want. The position means nothing to me. I don't want power, or fame, or influence... All I want is to be happy at last. And I've found that now."

Tristen's hand tightened around hers, and he leaned against her to press a kiss to her neck. The affection made her shiver, and a smile spread her lips. Happiness. At last. Tristen had begun to change her for the better, and from here on out, things were only going to get better.

Derek approached, but it was not with anger. He stood uncomfortably close to her, eyes narrowed and near dangerous. When he moved again, Stella anticipated he would strike her, but the older of the two brothers simply bent down to scent the opposite side of her neck from Tristen. When he drew away, he caught her eyes and did not betray his emotion.

"And what about the child I planted inside of you?" he asked. "I can smell the pregnancy on you. You were fertile when I had you last night."

The news was jarring, and Stella knew her mouth had fallen agape. Pregnancy? Already? There was a small chance that the child could be Tristen's, but...

"It doesn't matter," Tristen said from her side. He'd yet to let go of her hand. "Yours or mine, blood is blood, and Stella is mine. I will care for the child even if it is not my own."

A child. Pregnancy. A family. The news was so sudden. After a year of living in isolation, it didn't seem possible. Over the course of a single day, everything about her had changed. Both brothers had made sure her life would never be the same.

"As long as this is my pack," Derek said, "then you can do whatever the fuck you want, as long as it's respectful. I'm going to allow this to happen. I was never big on commitment, anyway. You start your happy little family, and I'll lead my pack. Sounds like a fair tradeoff to me."

Hasty decisions and a bleeding heart had almost led her to ruin, but perseverance had served her well. There was no doubt Will had been a great love of her life, but he would not be the last. Tristen was there for her now, and by his side Stella knew she would be treated well.

And now with a baby on the way, and a pack to serve as family, there would be no reason she would ever find herself on her own again.

After a cold, bleak winter came the first beautiful buds of spring. The buds of her life were sprouting now, and Stella knew it wouldn't be long before her it would be in full bloom. *****

THE END

WOLF TWINS

CHAPTER ONE

Betraya

Jolene let out a loud gasp when she opened the door and saw them there. “Bastard!” she shouted. She had come home early from work to discover that Kenny, her husband of three years, was in fact not at work like she had thought.

Well, he was at work in one way.

“Babydoll?” he asked, moving quickly off of the mystery woman he had in their bed.

Kenny’s semi-erect penis was not doing him any favors right now. Jolene looked at him, horrified. “Get the fuck out of my house!” she bellowed at him. In actuality, the house belonged to both of them, but she was too angry to see that at the moment.

The strange woman got out of the bed, covering herself in her dress and scooping up her panties and bra. She left the room, scampered down the stairs, and went out the front door without a word. Jolene got the feeling this had been going on for a while and her finding them had been inevitable.

She shot her head back around to glare at Kenny as soon as the tart was gone. “You gonna get packing or should I?”

“Babydoll, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Kenny said. He, unlike the bimbo, did not bother to put his clothes back on. He tried to wrap his arms around Jolene, but she pulled away and punched him in the shoulder roughly.

“Get away from me!” she cried. “And don’t call me ‘babydoll.’”

She went to the chest of drawers and started pulling out her clothing in large mounds, stuffing them into a suitcase she found in the closet. “You were supposed to be dependable, Kenneth,” she said. “I liked you because you had a career and a routine. You were practically boring, and I liked that. I didn’t want an asshole cheater like in high school. I guess I just attract asshole cheaters.”

Kenny looked at her woefully as she spoke, but then he turned vicious in his own defense. “Well, maybe I was tired of boring routines. Maybe I wanted someone who came when I called her and drove me crazy.”

Jolene moved back to the doorway. “Whatever. I’m tired of this shit.” She hit him forcefully with the suitcase as she passed him, knocking him to the floor. She smirked a little at that. It was a small victory, but she would take it.

She left the house, tossing her suitcase into the backseat of her green Volkswagen Beetle. Jolene was in marketing and advertising, and did most of her work from home; that was the irony of this situation. Kenny probably jumped at the chance to be unfaithful the first time Jolene went to the office.

 

Jolene McNulty was about as Irish as they come, though there certainly was no shortage of Irish people in Boston. She was pale and freckled, and taller than average. Curvaceous and attractive, she was no simpering thing, hence the bumps and bruises she had given Kenneth upon leaving their abode. Her hair was long and auburn, and her eyes were emerald green. At twenty-nine years old, she was still quite a looker, but she had not imagined she would be single again at this age.

“That son of a bitch,” she growled under her breath, driving along but not really knowing where she should go. Part of her wanted to stick around in Boston. After all, that was where her office was. But the other parts of her knew that there was no way she wanted to stay anywhere near her soon-to-be-ex.

Her mind made up, she went to a local courthouse and filed for divorce. Jolene signed the required documents, and then sent them on their way to be signed by Kenny. It surprised her how easy it was. It surprised her how much it hurt.

When she got back into her car, she hit the road for Vermont. She had never been there before, but she’d heard a lot of good things about the place. It was autumn and she knew that winter would not be a dainty affair there, but it wasn’t exactly laid back in Boston either. At least her wardrobe would be appropriate. If she was moving to Maui, she would be screwed.

Best of all, Vermont offered Jolene a quiet life. She would be able to sit back and enjoy nature as she wrote on her laptop instead of having to endure the loud Boston arguments and raucous night life. Vermont would be all porch swings and pleasantries.

As soon as she drove into Burlington, she rented a small cottage on the outskirts of town. The owner was a small, shriveled man who likely would not need living arrangements for much longer. The cottage was blessedly furnished. Jolene came inside, dropped her suitcase on the floor near the door, and collapsed onto the couch. She took off the messenger bag that was on her shoulders at almost all times, and set it down on the coffee table in front of her.

Her laptop was in that bag. She imagined she would be using that laptop a lot more now. Apart from doing her work, she was going to need to do some research into this new place. She pulled it out and plugged it into the wall, knowing that she was going to need to go shopping for power strips, along with food, fairly soon.

Upon turning on her computer, Jolene realized that she wasn’t getting a charge. She tried the other outlet. No dice. She unplugged and strolled out to the kitchen. The light did not turn on and the outlets were unresponsive there as well.

“Well, great,” she grumbled. “Could’ve put that in the ad.”

Jolene turned her computer off so the battery would not die and pulled out her phone, calling the first electrical company listed. The company was managed by a guy named Luke Weir. She really hoped that he knew what the hell he was doing, because she was getting sick of everyone letting her down.

“I’ll be right there,” the guy said when she called. He didn’t ask her a lot of questions, which Jolene actually appreciated seeing as she would have had very few answers for him.

 

The guy that appeared at her doorstep was not at all what Jolene was expecting from an electrical repairman. First of all, he arrived on a motorcycle. No dorky truck with a logo on it for this guy. Second of all, he was not a fat slob with a beer gut and pants that hung low. He was wearing nice, form-fitting blue jeans and a tight, ab-showing t-shirt with the company’s logo on it. Alternating Current Electrics. He was handsome and possibly even a little nerdy without making it show.

He looked up from his clipboard when she opened the door, the utility belt hanging around his waist full of tools that Jolene did not even bother herself with wondering about. She was too hung up on his hazel eyes. They were mostly green with one thin ring of gold-amber around his pupils. He had big dimples—one on each cheek—that caught her attention next, and dark wavy hair that was practically black if not actually fully black.

“Miss McNulty?” he asked her, checking his clipboard to make sure he had gotten that right.

Jolene forgot how to talk for a moment, but she nodded as she looked at him. Maybe moving to Burlington, Vermont was going to be the best decision she ever made in her life. But after a few middle schoolish moments, she told herself to be cool. He was, after all, just an electrician. A lowly service worker.

A sexy, muscly service worker…

She realized then that she had been staring at him without saying anything for going on two minutes. Clearing her throat, she ushered him inside, taking a peek at his shiny blue motorcycle before closing the door.

“So what seems to be the problem?” he asked her. He had a gravelly, growly voice like one of the best old country singers minus the southern accent.

She was almost embarrassed now. It seemed so silly. She felt like it may even be her fault somehow. “I plugged my laptop into the outlet here,” Jolene said, indicating the place on the wall. “And it didn’t start charging from either, uh, hole. And so then I tried the kitchen and the light won’t turn on and the outlets don’t work in there either.”

The guy whistled slightly and made note of that on the papers on his clipboard. “Well, I’m Luke Weir and I’m here to help you with that,” he said casually. “Do you mind if I step over and check it out?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Jolene replied, realizing that that made it sound like she did in fact mind. “I mean, I don’t mind. It’s why I called you.”

Luke looked at her and smirked, causing her to blush and turn his smirk into an all-out grin.

She felt weak in the knees then, so she sat on the edge of the couch. Had she really been so romance-deprived by her ex that the mere sight of another man caused her to get all wet in the panties?

But Luke was not just ‘another man.’ He was gorgeous. She had not been prepared for gorgeous in the land of rolling green hills and farms.

“You can go about your business,” Luke told her, not unkindly but not entirely nicely either. She got the sense that he was minorly annoyed that she was still watching him. “I’ll let you know when I’m through where we’re at.”

Jolene nodded a little. She couldn’t get her work done without the cord working, and she would also have a hard time focusing due to the hottie a few feet away from her. So she got one of her books off of a shelf and started reading. She hadn’t paid attention to what the book was and only realized once she’d started trying to read that it was a French-to-English dictionary.

She could hear Luke chuckling and did not even have to glance up at him to know why. She was so embarrassed that she felt like burying her head in the book and maybe dying a little.

“All right, you can watch me,” he said, still laughing. “I didn’t want you to be bored, is all. Watching me fiddle with outlets and cables is not that exciting, I’m sure.”

Now that’s where you’re wrong, she thought.

“Would you like a drink?” she offered him. “I’ve got some cans of soda in the fridge, some beer and of course there’s water.”

Luke looked up from the place where he was kneeling on the floor and smiled at her. He had a wicked, almost dangerous sort of smile. “What kind of beer do you have?” he asked her.

Jolene grinned at him. As soon as she had listed the brands of bottled beer she had, Luke gave her his choice and she got up, practically skipping into the kitchen to retrieve a cold Rolling Rock for him. She got a can of soda for herself. She wasn’t much of a drinker, even though she currently had several types of beer in her fridge. It was just that she had foreseen many lonely, bored nights there in that cottage. Perhaps she should have planned to go out and mingle with the Burtlingtonians or whatever they called themselves.

She handed him the beer as soon as she got back to Luke. She had been kind enough to pop it open beforehand.

“Thanks,” he said, sitting down on the floor and mopping some sweat from his brow with the back of his long, black-haired arm. He took the beer from her outstretched hand and took a long swig.

Jolene sat on the arm on the couch which, as it happened, was the closest place she could sit in order to be near him. She popped open her can of soda and took a sip, smiling as she did so. She wanted so badly to flirt with him, but she had no idea where to start. She was rusty, since she had been out of the dating game for years. Not that she had ever exactly been a master flirter anyway. She was more like a master attracter, somehow. Guys dug her. At least, back when she was younger…

It was good that Luke seemed to be in his early thirties, at least. She wasn’t robbing the cradle or anything like that.

“New to town?” he asked her, catching her off guard as she was trying to think of something to ask him.

“Is it obvious?” Jolene asked him.

He chuckled. “Well, by the looks of things you just moved into this cottage today. Either that or you love keeping your stuff in suitcases.”

Jolene looked over at her suitcase by the door. She had not been too concerned about putting her things away yet. Really, she had just been trying to play around on the internet. “You’re very perceptive,” she said.

Luke smiled at her as he took another pull at his bottle of Rolling Rock. Then he set the beer down on the coffee table and got back to work testing the outlets and working on the wiring. After a few moments, he got up from the floor. “Where’s your circuit box?” he asked her.

Hey, there, tiger. Take me out for a drink before you ask such personal questions.

“Um, I think it’s in the laundry room?”

He went off in search of it. Jolene felt like such a dork. She worried that she was being too obvious. Was it a stereotype, to be the lonely single woman in need of a serviceman’s help?

Suddenly, the light turned on in the kitchen. It was as if she had had a great idea all of a sudden. Man, did she wish…

“Problem solved!” Luke announced, striding back into the room. “This is a nice place you’ve got here. I’m glad the electricity is not really faulty. That’s a nightmare avoided.” He smiled at her, showing off his dimples.

Jolene looked at him and smiled a little, feeling sad. The problem being solved meant that this handsome electrician was going to leave. “Thank you. That—jeez—that probably should have been the first thing I thought of.”

He waved a hand at her. “Ah, it happens all the time.” She noticed that he was looking at her in a way that did not seem so professional now, like he had just noticed her green eyes and curvy physique. It didn’t hurt that she was sitting in just the right way to make her neckline dip down and her breasts press together.

“You doing anything tonight?” he asked her then.

Jolene felt both surprised and vindicated. She knew what inquiries like that meant usually. “No, I hadn’t planned anything,” she said with a flirty, coy—she hoped—smile. “Mostly I was hoping to do some research about this town.”

Luke just kept on smiling, his dimples getting deeper and more set on his face. They practically made him glow like a neon sign that said ‘kiss me.’ Jolene was glad she was already sitting down so she wouldn’t swoon or do something equally fangirlish. “I’ll do you one better,” he said.

Yeah, I bet you will.

“I have a few more customers to attend to today,” he said, looking at his clipboard of paperwork again, surveying his schedule. “But what’s say I pick you up back here at about… eight o’clock?”

Ooh, he wasn’t just going to meet her somewhere. He was going to pick her up. Jolene imagined him in leather, picking her up and riding off with her on the back of his motorcycle—a Harley. Always a Harley. She tried to imagine herself becoming one of those biker chicks who live on the back of bikes and smoke and sing songs about Danny Zuko. All further proof that she needed to get out more.

He could tell that she was considering his proposition, and he liked that.

“I will be your guide to Burlington,” he said, doing his best to sweeten the already sweet deal.

She nodded at him, trying to be eager but not too eager. “Cool,” she said. “That sounds great. I’ll see you at eight.” She grinned at him. “How much do I owe you?”

Luke shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. Just be here when I come for you.”

Something flashed in his hazel eyes. Jolene could have just been crazy attracted to this guy, but she felt like she had definitely seen a flash of something dangerous and not altogether pleasant in his eyes.

 

Prettying herself up was not so easy for Jolene when all of her stuff was packed away in a suitcase. She rummaged around until she found the little bag of all of her bathroom supplies, including a small, plastic pouch full of makeup accoutrements. She had no idea what kind of place that Luke was planning to take her to. The way he had made it sound, he was probably planning to show her multiple places. Jolene had to wear something that said she was spontaneous and versatile.

She put on a pair of grey-black skinny jeans and a purple blouse that hung off her shoulders and exposed her black bra straps. It was an 80’s nostalgia type shirt, but she loved it. It showed off what she considered her fabulous neckline and shoulders. And chest. Let’s not forget chest.

Jolene played on the internet for a bit while she waited for Luke to reappear. From what she could see, Burlington was a pretty relaxed, down to earth place. How the hell had a guy like Luke found himself there? Was it possible that a guy like him could be born in a place like Vermont?

Right as eight o’clock arrived, the sounds of a motorcycle could be heard in her driveway. Jolene gave herself one final cursory glance in the mirror before stepping out onto the porch. She gave Luke a wave and locked her door before strolling down to greet him. She hoped that her bag was hefty enough to stay on her shoulder while they rode. She hadn’t thought about that.

“Wanna put that in the storage?” he asked her, gesturing to… Was he pointing at his crotch?

She blinked at him, surprised, before she realized that he was actually pointing at the seat of his bike. Ooohhh… Duh. “Sure,” she said with a smile, relieved that he did not know what she had just thought. “That would be great. Probably wiser, too.”

Jolene handed over her purse, feeling strange because Luke was a stranger but knowing she could trust him with her purse because he had, after all, been in her home already. He got off his motorcycle and carefully took the bag from her. Then he opened up his bike seat to reveal a fairly decent sized storage space within. He placed her purse down into it and pulled out a helmet for her. He tossed it to her without saying a word.

“Ahh!” she shouted, managing to catch it by sheer luck.

Luke laughed at her. “Come on, McNulty,” he said, tilting his head towards his bike. “We’ve got sights to see and the night ain’t getting younger.”

Jolene smirked at him, wondering how it was that he came to sound so cartoonishly southern sometimes. Maybe it was merely an affectation. Or a joke. But one thing was for sure: her crush on him was no joke.