CHAPTER 2

Isabel

EVEN WITH HER BACK TO the door the moment Jason stepped into the store she knew. He had the kind of presence that was hard to ignore and boy did he know it.

Built like a linebacker with his black hair and dark penetrating eyes, he was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Not a woman, man, or child in Rollings was left unaffected when he went by. Isabel was no different, she was just better at hiding it.

Most of the time.

Trying her best to ignore the eyes boring into her back, Isabel shoved another book into her basket. She loved this store. It had all the newest works by her favorite authors as well as the older ones. The ones that were aged to perfection giving them each their own unique smell and character. She was one of the few patrons of Spines and Dust who actually appreciated the combination.

Jason sure as hell wouldn’t be caught dead in there if she didn’t drag him kicking and screaming the whole way. Which brought up the question of why he was there? The only reason she could think of for him being there was her.

Fuck me.

Eyes down, she pretended to focus on the back of her book and that she didn’t notice his shadow looming over her. If she didn’t acknowledge him would he go away? The sound of his throat clearing said the chances of that happening were slim to none.

“What do you want now?” She retorted not looking up from her book.

“Now don’t get your panties in a twist, Izzy. I just want to talk.” The sound of his voice was deep and husky. It always made her think of naughty bedroom things. She shook her head at the thought. She was with Vincent now. He was kind and generous. So what if the sound of Jason’s voice made her weak in the knees. He was a boorish pig. Didn’t he prove that when they broke up?

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Closing the book in her hand with a snap, she placed it in her basket before heading further into the store.

Saturday morning was the best time to browse at her leisure. Most of the younger crowd wasn’t awake yet and the adults were too busy trying to get their errands for the week done. Leaving the store practically deserted. Normally, she would crave the solitude but with Jason on her tail, it only made the air thick with tension.

“What would you have me call you?” Jason asked his long legs keeping up with her attempts to lose him. “Belle?”

“No. Not that.” She winced at his use of Vincent’s nickname for her. Vincent was a wonderful boyfriend and an even better listener. The moment he had heard her name he insisted on calling her Bell because she was more beautiful than any rose he had ever seen. His words not hers. But the sound of it coming from Jason’s mouth seemed wrong in more ways than one. The most glaring reason being the real reason she was sure he was there.

“What about sugar?” This time, his voice was low and hot in her ear. The only time he ever called her a pet name was when he was on the verge of coming. His use of it then in broad daylight caused her body to react the way it was conditioned to. Her face flushed and throbbing ache made her press her thighs together.

“Isabel.” Her voice came out hoarse and a bit breathless. Stop it. He’s not that hot. She chided herself for acting like a cat in heat. She cleared her throat and took a step back from him. “Just Isabel.”

“Alright, Isabel. Whatever you say.” A knowing smirk crept up his face as he took a step closer to her causing her to back up until the shelf bumped her back. Caged in by his massive arms, she focused on pinning him with a glare and not the rampant beating of her heart.

“Seriously. No more games Jason. What do you want?” The words were meant to cool his heated gaze but had the opposite effect when his hand came up to brush a stray hair behind her ear.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. You seemed kind of tense back at the shop.” His dark eyes drilled into her daring her to deny it.

“Like I told you before, I have a lot of errands to run, and then I have to redo all those spreadsheets for this month’s ledgers, and all before Vincent gets back from visiting the pack tomorrow.” She brought up Vincent’s name in an effort to reminder herself who she had promised herself to. Not that it was helping any.

“He’s been going to visit his family a lot lately, hasn’t he?” Jason trailed a finger down her arm causing goose bumps to rise in its wake. “Is that why you are here, buying dirty books, instead of working on those spreadsheets you are so worried about?”

Her face filled with warmth at his question. She had hoped he hadn’t noticed what was in her basket. Though, it was hard not to when every single one of them had a shirtless man or a woman in mid-orgasm on the front.

“Tell me, Iz.” He leaned in closer until their noses almost brushed. “Is the mutt taking care of you like you need to be? Does he know when you get stressed all you need is to come a few times and you are right as rain? Like the one time I pulled over on the highway, do you remember that, baby?” His fingertips tickled the tops of her thighs and she fought her body’s need to arch into his touch.

Isabel gulped. She remembered alright. She had been ranting and raving about her current client at the time, an eco-crazed hippy that didn’t know that to be a successful accountant she needed receipts. A purchase for a hundred dollars or so at some place over in Saint Paul for something he didn’t quite remember was not tax deductible. So after they had been going down the highway for a good fifteen minutes of her harping, Jason had pulled over his Jeep and hopped out without a word.

“What are you doing?” She’d asked when he had opened her side of the door, only to cry out in surprise when he flipped her around, threw her skirt up and buried his face between her thighs. She had never orgasmed so hard in her life.

“No. I don’t. And Vincent does just fine.” She forced out, pushing her basket between them so Jason would have to take a step back.

“I don’t believe you.” Laughter filled his voice at her attempt to push him away.

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t care what you think.” She sniffed. “Now if you would excuse me.” Isabel shoved her basket further between them and marched back toward the front.

“Well, now that’s a good thing.” Jason clucked his tongue as he followed her. “Because I know you and you only read that trash when you are frustrated. So it can only mean that dear old Vincent isn’t hitting all your buttons.”

Damn him. Anger filled her at his words, mainly because he was right. Not that she’d tell him, but Vincent and she hadn’t done more than kiss yet.

After she went to work for Vincent as a way to pay back her father’s gambling debt she found herself falling for the quiet and reserved werewolf. It wasn’t an epic passionate love like in her books but it was comfortable. Unfortunately, after their one romantic moment where they declared their love for each other, Vincent had kept his distance.

The charming werewolf she had become endeared to was becoming little more than a stranger every day. Besides the daily peck on the lips when he left or came home from work, her sex life was pretty much nonexistent. After being with Jason, it was hard to go from mind shattering orgasms almost every night to nothing. It was enough to make any sane woman turn to erotica.

“Whether he is pushing my buttons or not is none of your business.” Isabel spun on him, pointing a finger at his large muscular chest. “You cannot come in here and start acting like you have a say in my life, in case you have forgotten, you are not my boyfriend anymore. Vincent is. Now if you are quite finished harassing me, I have other errands to attend to.”

She turned on her heel, her basket clutched tight against her side causing it to bite into her arm. When she reached the end of the aisle she almost breathed a sigh of relief at his lack of response. She was about to step out of the aisle when she heard a half audible response.

“What?” She turned to look at him and regretted it the moment she saw the dark look in his eyes.

“Fiancé.” His size thirteen boots stomped down the aisle. “The mutt may be your boyfriend but do not try and compare what we had to something as fleeting as that. Don’t forget nine months ago you were singing a very different tune.”

“And whose fault is that?” Isabel hissed trying to keep her voice low, even though she knew Mr. Goodman, the sixty-year-old owner of Spines and Dust, was listening to every word.

Jason barked out laughing. “You can’t tell me that brute makes you happy?”

“Brute? That’s a bit funny coming from the likes of you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “At least Vincent respects me and my intelligence.”

“Oh, we are going to bring that up again.” He threw his hands up, exasperation clear on his face.

“Yes, we are. You seem to forget the very reason we broke up to begin with.” She actually hated bringing it back up. The thought of the last time they had been together and the argument they had always caused a small sting in her heart. Nine months later, he was still constantly apologizing and scheming to get her back. She was through playing nice.

“I’m not going to apologize anymore.” He crossed his bulging arms over his chest. She remembered a time when she loved to be wrapped up in those arms, but that was before.

“Good because I’m tired of hearing it.” She stepped closer to him her eyes challenging him.

“Fine.” He leaned down until he loomed over her. “I hope your books and batteries keep you warm at night because you and I both know Vincent sure as hell won’t.”

He pushed passed her, his path directed toward the exit. Her eyes followed after him and before she could stop herself her eyes began to linger on the way his jeans fit his backside. Irritated that he still had such an effect on her, she yelled after him.

“They will!” Before snapping her mouth shut at what she had just agreed to.

Glaring at the smirk he tossed back at her, she marched up to the front counter where Mr. Goodman was failing miserably at pretending not to eavesdrop. She began unpacking her books and didn’t turn from the counter until she heard the bell of the door sound his exit. Letting out an aggravated breath, she muttered under her breath about the bullheadedness of some men.

“Well, that didn’t go very well, did it?” Mr. Goodman commented as he rung up my order.

Frowning at the older man’s pity filled eyes, she murmured, “No, it really didn’t.”

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