Hunter's Mate

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by Becca Jameson


  “Maybe we should get a drink instead,” she suggested.

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.” He took a deep breath and rocked back on his heels, tucking his fingers in his front jeans pockets.

  She felt drawn to him like a magnet, the loss of his touch messing with her mind. She couldn’t resist reaching up and cupping his face. The fear she’d conjured in her mind moments ago disappeared. Hunter had no ill intentions. He was a smoking hot good guy. She needed to chill. Get a drink. Maybe even step outside with him.

  His eyes closed, and he tipped his face into her palm and sighed. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been just as lost from their disconnection. It made no sense. But then again, nothing that had happened since she’d arrived in Canyon Springs had made sense. “Come on,” she murmured.

  Her stomach grumbled as she led the way this time, reminding her they hadn’t eaten dinner. Hunter and Caleb had approached them the moment they’d taken their seats. Food had been forgotten.

  When she reached the crowded bar, Hunter flattened his body against her back, set his hands on her shoulders, and leaned down to speak in her ear again. Every time he did that, she melted a little more. “You’re hungry.”

  She twisted her head around to look at him. “How can you know that?”

  “Your stomach grumbled.”

  “You couldn’t possibly hear that.”

  He lifted that one brow again, giving her that side smile, his silent way of reminding her he wasn’t quite human.

  She took a deep breath. This was almost too weird. The man could smell her and distinguish her from her sister. He had uncanny hearing. It seemed like he knew what she was thinking before she did.

  She flinched at that last thought and tipped her head back. “Please tell me you don’t also read minds.”

  “Nope. That would be cool though.” His hands squeezed her shoulders. “What do you want to drink?”

  “A beer would be great.”

  He nodded. “Can I order some appetizers? I assume Elena hasn’t eaten either?”

  She leaned back against his chest. It was impossible to explain or understand, but she felt like she’d known him a long time. She could barely hold on to the warning sirens going off in her head. Did she really need to be worried? This was a small town. Everyone in this bar knew the man. If he was a serial killer, they wouldn’t let him lure her into a ditch.

  The word lure stuck in her mind. Was he luring her? That was definitely one of her grandmother’s words.

  “I’d love to be able to read your mind, Layla. There is so much going on inside that pretty head of yours. You go from hot to cold every few seconds. I fear I’m the cause of your concerns. Please don’t be afraid of me. I swear I would never harm a hair on your head.”

  She held her breath while he spoke into her ear, the warmth of his breath hitting her with every syllable.

  “Let me order us some food for the table, get us some beers, and we’ll join your sister and Caleb, yeah?”

  She nodded. “Thank you.” She watched as he slid around her and leaned an elbow between two people on bar stools. He kept one of her hands in his the entire time as if worried she might disappear if he broke contact.

  She couldn’t hear anything he said, but how could he go wrong with a few appetizers and cold beer?

  What caught her attention was the man sitting at the bar stool to the right of Hunter. He wasn’t facing the bar. He was completely turned around, facing Layla. Staring at her. His expression was eerie. Scrutinizing. She got the impression he didn’t like humans, assuming he was a shifter. Or maybe he didn’t like her in particular. He had white hair and a two-day-old white beard and mustache. He looked tired. Worn out. She bet he was younger than he looked. When he narrowed his gaze at her, she turned away, setting her sights on Hunter’s fine ass encased in equally fine jeans.

  Hunter suddenly turned to the white-haired man. “How’s it going, Anders?”

  The man, apparently named Anders, grunted in response. He didn’t glance at Hunter though. He kept his gaze on Layla. She wondered if Anders was his first or last name.

  Hunter stared hard at Anders, and if Layla wasn’t mistaken, Hunter stiffened. A second later, he leaned in closer and spoke to Anders discreetly. Layla couldn’t hear what Hunter said, but it did nothing to alter Anders in the least. He continued to stare at her. She wasn’t sure he even blinked.

  Never releasing Layla’s hand, Hunter turned his attention back to the bartender and picked up a beer. As he swiveled back to face Layla, he hesitated, his gaze on Anders, and gritted out, “Not tonight, Anders. Please.”

  Anders finally glanced at Hunter and gave a slight nod.

  To say the exchange was weird would have been an understatement.

  Hunter finally handed Layla a beer and then snagged his own from the bar. “They’ll bring our food to the table.”

  She shook off the strange older guy, took a sip of beer, and moaned. It was perfect. Cold. Crisp. Light. Just right. Maybe it would help her loosen up a bit. Her behavior was odd. She’d come here with every intention of finding and fucking this very man. He’d turned out to be every bit as sexy as she’d imagined. He was funny and kind and attentive and generous. He was the full package.

  Her body was completely alert. Tingling with anticipation. She would give anything to see him naked, have him slide into her and fuck her so hard she lost her vision. It had been her goal. And she was certain he would be in agreement. What was slowing her down?

  She couldn’t put her finger on it. Something about this entire bizarre encounter felt…important. Like having sex with him would be more meaningful than just a one-night stand. That odd sensation might have been what was making her slow down. She for sure wasn’t going to stay in Canyon Springs like he’d jokingly suggested.

  He had been joking, right? He did realize she was passing through town, right? Maybe it was his reactions to her that were making her think twice. He didn’t seem like he wanted to simply enjoy a quick fuck with her and go home.

  God. That was it. It wasn’t her. It was him. He looked too serious. Intent. Like she was more than tonight’s conquest. If he were more laid back and didn’t look like he wanted to eat her and never stop, she might have simply left with him. But his demeanor and his expressions spoke of something more.

  Layla didn’t have more. She had a week. Two at the most. She hadn’t told Elena yet that she intended to go with her sister to Chicago, but she sure wasn’t staying in a town where she didn’t know anyone.

  Damn, he was alluring though. She’d give almost anything to pull his henley over his head and flatten her palms on his chest. She bet it would be smooth and chiseled. She wanted to grip his ass next, hold on to him with her fingertips. She shivered at the thought of him entering her. Dammit.

  His voice was deeper than she’d heard before when he spoke again. “Layla, babe. Stop looking at me like that. You’re making it very hard for me to continue to be a gentleman.”

  She swallowed, not realizing she’d been ogling him and plotting their future sexual encounter. Shit. She took another drink of her beer. She needed to break up this trance she was in. “Let’s go find Elena.” Before he could respond, she turned and headed toward the table. Her heart was racing. She’d never wanted a man as badly as she wanted this one. It unnerved her and made her think twice. Maybe sleeping with a local wasn’t such a good idea after all. Not if she was going to have freaking feelings for him.

  Nope. Feelings had never been in the plan for this week.

  Fucking yes. Feelings no.

  Chapter 6

  May 5, 1967

  * * *

  Dear Mabel,

  * * *

  It feels weird to keep writing to you since you never open any of my letters, but I find it cathartic anyway. You’re like my diary. At least I know no one ever reads my diary. Josiah says I could build an addition on our house with the money I would save in postage if I stopped writing. I know he’s kidding. I will
never stop writing.

  Also, it’s starting to seem like we’ll never need an addition on this house. I haven’t gotten pregnant. We moved into this large two-story house last year, intending to fill it with kids, but that hasn’t been in the cards for me yet.

  Speaking of pregnant, Mom says you haven’t conceived yet either. That seems like a strange coincidence, but then again, you and I have the same genetics. Maybe we’re not very fertile.

  Sometimes, when I’m feeling down and missing you, I think God is punishing me for stopping in Canyon Springs. That’s ridiculous, of course, but you know how I can get all up in my head.

  I’ll write you again when I have something interesting to say.

  * * *

  Love, Marge

  * * *

  Layla’s attention was on Elena as she took the stool next to her sister. She had been worried Elena would kill her for leaving her alone as long as she had, but Elena didn’t look angry. Hell, she looked flustered. That was a new look for Elena.

  Layla lifted both brows. “How’s it going?” she asked under her breath, her gaze going to the arm reaching under the table, clearly settled on Elena’s thigh. It was attached to Hunter’s friend Caleb. Interesting.

  “Fine.” Elena took a sip of her clear soda.

  “Vodka soda?” Layla joked.

  “Hardly.”

  It wasn’t that Elena didn’t drink. She did sometimes, especially when she was with Layla, but she didn’t like to feel out of control, so she rarely drank in excess. Layla wasn’t surprised she wasn’t drinking with this stranger hitting on her.

  Caleb cleared his throat. “Hunter, did you realize these are Marge’s nieces? They’re here in town to settle her estate.”

  Hunter nodded, rubbing his hand up and down Layla’s back. “That’s what I hear.”

  If Layla wasn’t mistaken, the two men stared at each other for several seconds as if secretly communicating. The two of them definitely had some sort of weird extra sense. She hoped Hunter hadn’t been lying when he said they couldn’t communicate telepathically. That would be more than she could handle. Her grandmother certainly believed shifters had some sort of mojo that made her nervous. Mabel thought Marge’s husband had brainwashed her. But no one had ever suggested shifters had the ability to actually speak to each other telepathically.

  Finally, the connection broke, and Hunter turned to smile at Layla. “I hope you intend to stay in Canyon Springs a while.”

  Layla took another sip of her beer. They’d already covered this topic, and Layla didn’t want to discuss her future plans. Not without talking to Elena alone. Not that she intended to stay in Canyon Springs. That wasn’t on the table.

  Rolling around between the sheets with this hot shifter was on the table, however. Time to change the subject. “So how does it work? The shifting, I mean. Do you need a full moon or something?”

  Hunter laughed. “No. Nothing like that. We aren’t werewolves. We don’t shift into a furry human figure with big teeth like you see in the movies. That’s fiction.”

  Layla cocked her head to one side. “That’s fiction? You do realize either way it’s still foreign to us.”

  Hunter smiled. “Well, we shift into actual wolves. You can’t tell we’re part human when we’re in wolf form. And we do it whenever we want. No time restrictions.”

  “Do you do this often?” She squirmed a bit on her seat. It was one thing to visualize a fantasy of having sex with such a powerful virulent man for the sake of knowing what it might be like, but when she paused to consider what he really was, the idea made her nervous.

  Hunter brought his hand to the table and grabbed hers, threading their fingers together. “Sometimes. It just depends. We don’t have to shift for any particular reason these days. In ancient times, shifters often exercised their ability in order to easily hunt. It’s so much faster than finding food and cooking it by human methods.”

  Caleb followed up with more explanation. “Now that food is so easily obtained from grocery stores and we don’t need to go out and kill it with a bow and arrow, the ability is no longer used as often for survival.”

  Layla soaked all this information in, admittedly tongue tied.

  “However”—Hunter continued—“we really enjoy shifting and running hard through the forest. It’s like the ultimate stress relief. We can run so much faster in wolf form than in human form.”

  “You were running in human form when I saw you earlier,” she pointed out.

  He nodded. “True. I enjoy jogging. Some days it’s more satisfying. Plus, we don’t always have time to drive out of town. And, we don’t often shift close to humans. It has a tendency to scare them.”

  “I’m sure,” Elena murmured. Her back was straighter. She was tense.

  Caleb looked concerned…and frustrated?

  Time to change the subject. Layla would process it more later. “You two seem like good friends.”

  “We are,” Hunter agreed. “We’ve known each other since birth. Our parents were friends. We never really had a choice. In fact, our younger siblings are mated.”

  Layla flinched. “Mated?”

  “That’s what we call two people committed to each other. By human standards, our siblings, Cory and Michelle, are married. But it’s more than that for shifters.”

  Layla shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around all this surreal information. She would have asked more questions if she’d been able to formulate them, but she didn’t even know where to begin.

  A waitress appeared in the lull and set three large plates down in the middle of the table before handing out smaller plates and napkins. She smiled at Layla. “I’m Serena, by the way. Let me know if you need anything. Enjoy your food.” She left just as quickly, her long dark hair swaying as she moved.

  The food looked and smelled delicious. Potato skins, chicken fingers, and a large plate of nachos.

  Hunter scooted the plate with the skins closer to her. “Dig in. I know you’re hungry.” He released her hand, which oddly left her feeling sort of lost.

  Layla took a little of everything while everyone else at the table did the same. After she popped a nacho in her mouth and washed it down with another drink of her beer, she looked at Hunter again. “If you two are lifelong friends, why were you fighting out front when we arrived?”

  “I was wondering that myself,” Elena added, glancing at Caleb.

  Both men winced.

  Hunter wiped his lips on his napkin. “We were fighting over you two actually.”

  “What?” Layla nearly knocked her beer over, and she would have if Hunter hadn’t grabbed it.

  Elena’s back went straight again. “That makes no sense. You hadn’t met us.”

  Caleb chuckled. “No, but we had each seen you separately, and we didn’t realize there were two of you.”

  It took Layla a moment to process that. “So wait. Let me get this straight. You both saw a blond woman at different times today and then convened and decided to throw punches over which one of you would get to have her?”

  Hunter nodded. “Basically, yes. Caleb had a photo.”

  Caleb winced and turned his head toward Elena. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. I took a picture of you in Morton’s parking lot.”

  Her eyes bugged out. “After you saw me in the store, you waited in the parking lot for me to leave?”

  His face scrunched up even more in chagrin. “Yes.”

  “You sound like a stalker. Do you realize that?”

  Now Caleb actually shifted his weight several times. “It’s complicated. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

  Elena shivered.

  Layla couldn’t blame her.

  Hunter grabbed Layla’s hand again, clasping it on top of the table. She instantly calmed, feeling his warmth spread through her, seemingly changing the air around them.

  She stared at the connection, realizing every time he touched her, he took over her emotions. What if Grandma Mabel was right and shi
fters did in fact lure strangers into their lives and keep them?

  Hunter cleared his throat. “There’s a lot we aren’t telling you. Caleb is right. It’s complicated. Please know that we mean you no harm. In our world, we sometimes feel an instant connection to another person when we meet them. It’s kind of unusual that we both felt that today for the two of you, but it happened. It’s the reason we were eager to officially meet you and get to know you.”

  “A connection…” Part of Layla wanted to jerk her hand out of his, just to break that connection. He obviously wasn’t kidding. She lifted her face. “Our grandmother told us a lot a crazy shit as we were growing up. She was furious with her sister for coming to Canyon Springs and never leaving. Why do I get the feeling Grandma Mabel wasn’t wrong?”

  Hunter nodded. “Most of what she said was probably accurate, but through a very skewed viewpoint. Our world isn’t as horrifying as she must have conveyed. It’s just different.”

  Caleb grabbed Elena’s hand. “Your Aunt Marge had free will. She could have left any time. She fell in love with Josiah, and they had a wonderful happy life. I hate that her twin never got to see that. It makes me sad. But trust me when I say she was happy here. You can ask anyone in town.”

  Layla listened intently before turning her attention back to Hunter. “It’s a lot to process.”

  “I know. And I’m not asking you for more than a chance to get to know you. I won’t pressure you. Caleb won’t pressure Elena either. We’re drawn to you. We feel a connection you can also sense. It’s just how we’re wired.” He pointed at the food. “Let’s eat. Take a step back. Enjoy the evening.”

  Layla nodded. There was no harm in sharing food with two hot guys, was there?

  Chapter 7

  “There it is.” Layla pointed out the window of the rental car when she spotted Larosa and Tanner Law Offices. “Looks like there are a few spots out front.”

 

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