I ride off into that good night on my bike and my brain doesn’t stop replaying the night.

Maybe I didn’t trust her, not completely.

Because Rain’s right. I do have a secret I’m keeping from her. It’s not just mine, though. It belongs to my pack and I love them. Huh. I chew on that for a few miles. Love isn’t a word I like to use, not unless I’m talking about how much I love beer or fast bikes or even fucking bologna, which is an awesome meat product and needs to be eaten every day. But I feel something for those things, and I feel even more something for my pack.

Ware who speaks with his fists and who’d go to the wall for his human mate, Marly. Blade who spends more time running as a wolf than most of us do. Scarred-up Gator who hides out in the bayou because he’s not a people person and he has a personal space bubble the size of Antarctica. And Jace. Our Alpha and fucking fearless leader. They’ve kicked my ass when I needed it, but they’ve also had my back. They’ve accepted me on my terms and put up with my jokes and weird shit.

They’ve given me the love and affection that I wanted my grandfather to feel for me, although he didn’t. Won’t not can’t. They trust that I’ll do the right thing, be a good person. So I love my pack—and Imma have to trust them with this.

And the fact that I want to giftwrap our secret and deliver it to Rain with a big fucking bow on top? I think I might feel that same something for her.

Love.

I wait for the panic to hit me, but it doesn’t.

I love my pack. I love Rain.

No. I love Rain. I love my pack. She’s first, always first from here on out. Funny how the sky doesn’t fall and the world doesn’t end when I say those words in my head. No. Not words. Feelings.

I probably should hit Jace with my news at the clubhouse seeing as how it’s MC business, but I don’t want to wait. I open the throttle more and more until I’m streaking up the highway fast enough to rocket into outer space.

I pull into Jace’s driveway, my wheels spitting gravel as I come in for a fast landing. His house is a big, white, gingerbread monstrosity with lots of decorative pillars. I like to tease him that he’s compensating. Truth is, he’s a good man and I’m glad he’s on Keelie Sue’s side.

After retrieving my baby present from my saddlebags, I swing off my bike and stride to the front door. He’s got one of those prissy doorbells that plays classical music and shit. I ignore it in favor of banging on the door with my fist. It flies open almost immediately.

Jace cradles the baby with one arm. There’s a pink and white polka dotted towel chucked over one shoulder, sporting some suspicious stains. He raises one finger to his mouth in the universal gesture for shut-the-fuck-up.

“If you wake her up, I’ll kill you,” he whispers.

He looks tired. There’s also enough scruff on his face that I think you could start a fire if you rubbed a stick up against it. He’s barefoot and his shirt is wrinkled, although that’s also pretty normal for Jace. He’s no more a suit guy than I am.

The baby in his arms whimpers and we both freeze.

A few long seconds later, the baby seems to pass out again. We both exhale.

“Thank f—” Right. No swearing in front of the Mini-Me. Now that she’s had a little time out here in the real world, she’s looking less like a bright red prune. It’s a definite improvement. Beneath the white cap with bananas, her face is still pinkish and scrunched up. She’s also got the longest fucking eyelashes I’ve ever seen. Not even a month old, and she’s already a heartbreaker.

“You’re a lucky son of a bitch that she looks like her mommy.” I reach out a hand and pull it back. Pretty sure I have no business touching the baby.

Jace just shakes his head. “She’s gonna curse like a biker.”

“And she’ll have all of us watching out for her.” God help the boy who takes her to prom.

Jace surprises me by holding the baby out. I’m sort of surprised he’s willing to let me this close to his offspring. Possibly, it’s because her eyes fly open and she scrunches her face up, letting loose a banshee wail. I broke the baby, so I get to fix her. Screaming doesn’t bother me and fair’s fair, so I take her. All that book reading is coming in handy because I manage to look like I know what I’m doing. I cradle the munchkin in one arm and sort of bounce her up and down gently.

Jace gestures at my precious cargo. “You sing too? Because she’s cranky and it’s naptime. Keelie Sue’s asleep so I hate to wake her up to work the boob magic.”

“She got a name?”

Jace gives me a tired smile. “Margie.”

“Nice to meet you, Margie,” I croon to baby girl. “You wanna dance?”

Since Margie’s vocabulary is either extremely limited or she’s speaking fluent caveman, I decide to assume she’s giving me a yes. I belt out a country song, dancing around the room. Two verses and a refrain later, she starts yawning. Score. When she drifts off into lala land, I slide her into the bassinette occupying one corner of the living room. Clearly, I’m the king of babies.

I’m still admiring my handiwork when Keelie Sue staggers in. She’s wearing one of Jace’s T-shirts with a wet splotch over one boob and a pair of navy blue sweatpants that bag at the knees. Her hair’s twisted up on top of her head like a soft-serve ice cream cone and she looks exhausted. In fact, I’m not entirely certain she’s awake. On the up side, her tits are enormous. Jace smacks the back of my head but it’s like ignoring a national monument or something. Probably helps that my brain jumps straight from memorializing Keelie Sue’s assets to imagining what Rain would look like if she popped out our kid. I like that image a whole lot.

I grab the gift bag and hold it out in front of me like armor. “I brought you a present.”

“You already brought me one,” Keelie Sue deadpans.

“Yeah. About that.” I rub the back of my head. “Imma have to rethink that one.”

Keelie Sue gives me a duh look, but she also takes pity on me and rifles through the gift bag while I try to figure out where to start. Today’s offerings are decidedly less human—and vocal—than the last “present” I brought her. I think Rain would approve. Okay, she might not be a fan of the Biker Babe onesie, but the kiddie books my editor recommended are awesome.

While Keelie Sue makes admiring noises, I look over at my club president. He’s holding up the wall now, a resigned look on his face.

“I’m going after Rain.” Starting at the beginning is good. The tricky bit is what happens after I catch her and if she doesn’t kill me.

“Yeah,” Jace says. “Boys have been betting on what it’ll take to get you back in her bed.”

“The thing is—” Fuck it. Might as well blurt it out. Not like I’m gonna turn into Mr. Diplomacy. “I don’t just want in her bed.”

Keelie Sue looks up from the books. She beams at me like I’m super clever. “You don’t?”

I rub a hand over my head. “I do. She’s totally hot, really fucking awesome.” Shit. I wince. No swearing. I mime wiping the air with an eraser. “And she absolutely does it for me in bed, so of course I want to be there with her.

“Overshare,” Jace says dryly.

“But I wanna be with her outside of bed, too. And not just for sex.”

Keelie Sue turns up the smile wattage. “You want her to be your girlfriend for real.”

I frown. “Wanted more than that, if I’m being honest. I’d like her to be my old lady.”

“Club’s gonna be okay with that,” Jace says slowly. “The guys like her. She’s good people. So why are you here?”

“Because I promised her no more secrets. I need to tell her what I am, but that’s not just my business.”

There’s a long pause.

“Fuck,” Jace says finally. Keelie Sue frowns at him. Guess he’s on a no-cursing diet, too. “The more people who know, the likelier it is someone lets something slip.”

“Rain’s not like that. She’s responsible. She knows all about privacy—keeping people’s personal shit quiet is practically in her job description.” I can only imagine what she’s seen and heard.

Jace opens the door to the back porch. “Let’s talk.”

I suspect he wants me away from Margie in case I raise my voice or we end up fighting, but as it happens, I agree with him. I hand the sleeping baby over to her momma and follow him outside. He’s got a sweet set up. You can practically stick your feet into the bayou without ever leaving the porch. Fishing, hunting, free-range roaming—it’s wolfie paradise here.

He gestures to one of the ginormous wicker chairs perched on the edge of the porch. Those are new but I’m not anti-furniture, especially if we’re gonna pretend we’re civilized. I sink into the cushions. Bet Keelie Sue picked them out because I can’t imagine Jace choosing all this girly crap. They’ve got little pink and white stripes on them.

“Rain won’t out us.” I believe this, too. She may not like my news—and it’s gonna come as a shock to her—but she’s not vindictive. Worst case scenario, she’ll tell me to take a long walk off a short pier.

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“Know? No. But I’m feeling real fucking certain.”

“You’ve got a feeling?” Jace mutters something. It’s not particularly complimentary.

“Got a whole bunch of them.” I shrug. “And they’re not all coming from my dick. Maybe I’m maturing or shit.”

Jace grunts something and we both stare out at the bayou. A nice, fat duck is swimming closer and closer to where we sit, self-delivering take-out. Ordinarily, I’d shift and catch myself a duck dinner, but this isn’t a normal day.

Usually when Jace and I are together we’re hunting or partying. Sometimes, there’s fighting involved like when he went after me for hitting on Keelie Sue, but usually we’ve got a working if uneasy relationship. He gives orders as the pack Alpha and I follow them because I’m pack. This is the first time I’ve ever actually wanted his approval, however, and it’s awkward. Maybe begging gets easier with practice?

“If I tell you no, what then?” Jace levels a look at me that I can’t interpret. I’m no good at this body language shit. It’s too subtle. I wish people came with secret decoder rings.

“That would suck,” I suggest cautiously.

“And that’s a feeling, not an action.” Jace stretches his legs out. “You tell me what you’d do if I told you that the shifting stays a secret. If the best thing for the pack was for you to say nothing about us to Rain.”

I think about it. There’s no good answer, but there is one right answer. I’m part of the pack and Jace is our Alpha. He’s gonna do what’s best for everyone, and I’ll have to trust that he’s looking out for me, too. I meet his gaze.

I tilt my head, exposing my throat. “You want me to get down on my knees for her? I will. But I’m also gonna listen to what you have to say.”

Jace studies me, then shoves out of his chair and stalks over. He looks pissed off. He comes to a halt only when he’s leaning over me, his arms braced on either side of me, his face right up in mine.

“If I give you an order, you follow it.”

“Yeah.” My neck’s killing me at this fucking angle but I don’t move.

Jace’s teeth graze my throat, threatening, biting lightly.

“You wanna kill me, do it,” I say quietly. “It’s your call.”

“It sure as fuck is,” he snaps, before straightening. He smacks my head and ruffles my hair. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

“This is a surprise?” I thought we’d established this months ago.

“You’re responsible for her,” Jace says. “I’ll tell you what I told Blade and Gator. Whatever she does, it comes back on you. If she causes any issues for the pack, you find a way to take care of it, fast. You think you can handle that?”

“I do.”

“God help us all,” Jace sighs. “Would have been nice if Mother Nature saw fit to give us mind-wiping abilities.”

“You want a super hero cape next?” I laugh and slide away as Jace swipes at me.

I still need to talk to Rain, but she’s not making it easy to track her down. When I just miss her at work the next day, I haul ass to her place. Not sure if my overshare is gonna go better if she’s in her own territory or not, but I’m thinking she’ll feel safest in her space. When I finally pull up on my bike, the sun’s going down.

Rain has what she calls a moonlight garden. Stuff in it only comes out to play at night and it’s all white and pretty-stinky. A dark green vine full of white flowers lights up the shadows near her bedroom window. It’s nice to look at it, but it’s not what I’m paying attention to, if you feel me. Rain hasn’t pulled her curtains, so I’m looking straight inside whether I want to or not.

She’s not alone.

She’s not naked and getting it on with a rebound man, but it’s almost as bad. Her ex is standing in the center of living room, smiling at her. She’s not throwing things at him or screaming. There are so many things wrong with this picture that I’m not sure where to edit first. As I stand there like an idiot, finger frozen above the doorbell, Dave moves in for the kill.

He gets right up in her space, standing close. Pretty sure he’s A) thinking about kissing her and B) a dead man walking. She needs better curtains, and I need to put a stop to this. I slam my palm against the door.

“Rain? Honey? Your man’s home.” Yeah. Old habits die hard. I bellow her name loud enough to wake up the neighbors. Dave jumps back.

She stomps over and flings open the door.

“Inside voice,” she snaps. “No. Wait. How about you take your outside voice about two counties over and stay there?”

One problem at a time. Dave’s hovering behind her, trying to hide. He’s clearly not as stupid as he looks.

“Out,” I tell him. “And don’t come back. Ever.”

Pretty sure he doesn’t need a secret decoder ring to realize that what I really mean is If you come back, you’re a dead man. Still, he sort of leans in toward Rain, as if he’s dumb enough to be considering a goodnight kiss and where to land it. I growl.

Probably shouldn’t, but since the whole wolf thing’s coming out tonight, I figure I might as well take advantage. So I growl and keep on growling as I pin him with my glare. Cowardly fucker’s lucky I’m using my words and not my claws. Dave practically pisses his pants, or that could be sight of me in my club colors. Leather vest plus knife plus boots equals big, mean motherfucker and since Dave’s some kind of numbers guy, he does that math right. He practically runs me over, trying to get out of here.

“Damn it.” Rain slaps her palm against my chest. “Why are you here?”

“Can I come in?”

She hesitates. “We don’t have anything to say to each other.”

“I’ve got something I need to share with you.”

She watches Dave scamper into his car, throw the thing into reverse, and peel out of her driveway. He won’t be back. “He was leaving anyhow.”

“Seemed to be taking an awful long time,” I say, curling my fingers into the wood of the doorframe. “Was he reading you an epic poem or something?”

She steps away from the door. “Jealous?”

“Absolutely. You gonna let me come in?”

She curls up in one of the big chairs in front of the fireplace. “As if I could stop you.”

“All you got to do is say the magic word.” I step inside and shut the door before sitting down in the chair opposite hers. “A reliable source told me that’s please. But I also do well with small words, so you can just use no.”

“You wanted to tell me something?”

“You said that you want a man who’s gonna tell you everything, be your everything.” I lean forward. “I’m that man. Your man. Only thing is—”

“Yeah?” She sounds tired. “This isn’t helping, Fang.”

“Only thing is, I’m not human. Not entirely.”

“Right.” Now she definitely sounds exhausted. “FYI? This isn’t helping. You’re not some special, broken snowflake. Strangely enough, I appreciate the effort you’re making, but relationships actually aren’t that complicated. You do—or you don’t. Either you’re open with me, or you’re not.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I mutter. “But this would be a whole lot easier if you didn’t insist on hearing what I’m feeling. Show-and-tell might be the way to go here.”

“The door’s right there,” she snaps. “Feel free to use it if stringing two words together is too much of an effort.”

Christ, she’s amazing. Her eyes spark as she glares at me, all kinds of pissed off, and I bet the sex would be amazing right now. Fighting, wrestling, kissing, and making up. She’s not even wearing that much, which both pisses me off because she’s given the Dick an awesome show and turns me on. Her shorts barely skim the tops of her thighs, cupping her curves like a roadmap for my tongue. I’m also pretty certain she’s not wearing a bra underneath her tank top. There’s even a little pink bow smack between her tits. X marks the spot. Fuck. She’s all ready for bed.

“Let me do the show, okay? And then we’ll talk about it as much as you like.”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she says impatiently.

She’s definitely perfect. She’ll always call me on my shit.

“Not what I meant.” I wink at her. “Although I’m happy to show you my dick and you can talk about it all you want.”

Right. She makes a pissed-off sound and I stand up. “If you don’t want to see said dick, you’d better avert your eyes, sweetheart.”

I strip and I make it fast. Boots first, then my cut and shirt. I unbuckle, unbutton, and shove everything else down and onto the floor. Partly because this really isn’t about sex, but mostly because I’m scared. Not that I’d admit that. Ever. But this is a whole different kind of naked, a kind I’ve never been before, and I just need to do it before I turn pussy and run out the door.

She opens her mouth to say something—and I kinda want to hear what it is because sure enough, she’s staring at my dick and he’s real happy to see her—and I shift. Shifting’s always been easy for me. One minute I’m standing there, buck naked, hard, and all too human, and the next I’ve shucked that skin and I’m furry. It’s like shaking an Etch-a-Sketch, the first picture melting and become something else. My bones reform, my body re-shaping, and fur takes the place of skin.

I’m my wolf.

I plant my four paws on her living room floor and wait to see what she’ll do. My peripheral vision’s not so great in this form, but that’s okay. Everything important is right in front of me. All my senses are sharper too, Rain’s delicious scent flooding my nose, my ears picking up on the small catch in her breathing. She’s… not sure.

“Think Dave must have slipped me something,” she whispers, drawing her feet up onto her chair. I pad forward, pausing in front of her. The closer I get, the better she smells. Not prey scent, but I still want to eat her up. I whine.

“Is this what you were hiding when Keelie Sue had her baby? Did she have a puppy?” Rain frowns. “I’m totally crazy, aren’t I?”

I rest my head on the edge of her seat.

Be crazy. Crazy for me.

She swallows.

But then her hand comes out and she strokes her fingers over the top of my head. Her fingers sink into my fur as she pets me. We stay like this for a long time, and I’m… happy.

“Maybe crazy’s not so bad,” she mutters eventually. I give a little yip of agreement. “Come back now, okay?”

I nod and shift. Her eyes flicker over me, naked and on my knees, my cheek pressed against her bare thigh. Her fingers tighten in my hair and then relax. She gives a short laugh.

“You’re—”

I rub my cheek over her thigh, turning my head so I can look up at her. I don’t think she’s gonna finish that sentence. Not sure she’s decided what comes next.

“Yours,” I say. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“My very own wolf.” There’s a note of wonder in her voice. Also got laughter and some shock in there. But most importantly, I can hear the affection.

“Always,” I admit. “Should have told you sooner, but it wasn’t my secret. The pack doesn’t share with outsiders, and it took me a while to figure out that you weren’t outside at all.”

“No?” She smoothes my hair back.

“Nope. You’re inside, all the way.”

“Did I miss a secret initiation rite? Or were you hazing me when you dragged me into your clubhouse?”

Part of me wants to drag her straight to bed, fuck her hard and good until the only conversation we’re having involves her screaming my name and her praises of how I make her feel. But since I want both kinds of feeling, the in-bed and out kind, I don’t move. Plus, her thigh makes an amazing pillow.

Instead, I reach up and gently draw my thumb down her throat and over her chest until it’s resting right above that tempting bow. “You’re here. In my heart.”

“That’s not quite right,” she says. But there’s a smile tipping up the corners of her mouth as she slides my fingers a little off-center and to the left.

“Whatever.” I grin at her. “I usually just rip everything open and go for the heart that way. I’m not a good guy, but I think you know that. What I am is your guy. I’ll never lie to you again. Might sometimes have club business I can’t share, but we’ll work that out. Anything personal is gonna be an open book.”

She leans down and brushes her mouth across my forehead. “Fang?”

“Yeah?” I tilt my head back so I can watch her eyes. Feel her breath on as much of my skin as possible. My throat’s exposed, but I’m trusting her. This isn’t just about asking instead of telling, using my words instead of demanding. Making a request isn’t what makes me vulnerable and leaves my soft, squishy underbelly of feelings exposed. It’s about making a present to her of my trust. She doesn’t want a bouquet of roses—she wants me to gather up all my secrets, my thoughts, my feelings and give those to her and the pretty bow’s really fucking optional.

“You want to try having a real relationship with me?”

“I think we already do,” I say slowly. “But yeah. Absolutely.”

“I’m dating a werewolf.” Since this time she kisses the corner of my mouth, I don’t think she minds. “Maybe you should call me Red.”

“You planning on coloring? Because make sure you do the downstairs too, ‘kay? I’ve got a few fantasies—”

My mate—because that’s what she’s gonna be if I don’t fuck up—smacks my shoulder. “Little Red Riding Hood. And you’re disgusting.”

“Don’t think you mind.” I laugh up at her. “Plus, Red should have stuck around and given the wolf a try instead of running back for that spineless dick of a huntsman. We wolves have enormous dicks. Ask me nicely and we can try something kinky.”

“Nicely?” She sounds suspicious, which just goes to show you how smart my mate is.

“On your knees, princess.” I start walking my fingers up her thighs. “Saying pretty please.”

She smacks me again, but then we’re laughing together and I can’t wait any longer. Now I see why all those stupid fairytales are so fucking short. They just want to get to the best part, the happily ever after, and make the good stuff last and last and last.

I flow to my feet and scoop her up in my arms. “You gonna be my old lady and my Mrs?”

“Mrs. Fang?” She makes a face, so I twirl her around and around until she’s shrieking at me to stop and has a death grip on my neck.

“Got a real last name, too. Trahan. Landry Trahan. Fang’s my road name.”

She shakes her head. “We’ll have to work on the secret sharing, Landry.”

“Names don’t matter much,” I tell her, hauling ass up and the stairs and making excellent time to the bedroom. “You just call me yours and we’re good.”

“Mine,” she says slowly.

I kick open her bedroom door and gently lay her down on the bed. Fucking want to pounce on her, but there’s one more thing I need to say so I cover her body with mine, framing her face with my arms.

“I love you, Rain Sullivan.”

“And I love you, Fang.”

You see? She knows who I am.

You gotta love this woman. You really do. And then I do love her, going down on her until she’s hollering my name louder than the gators at sunset, and that’s my green light to sink deep inside her body, coming home.

 

The End