by T. S. Joyce
They stayed locked like that, staring at each other in the mirror glass, chests heaving, swaying. Swaying.
When he eased out of her, warmth trickled down her thighs, and he smiled. “Now you’re dirty. Now you can get clean.”
He lifted his chin and looked her up and down again, then turned and left her there wondering what the hell he’d just done to her body. Her orgasm was still pulsing lightly, dragging on and on like her body wasn’t ready to be done.
She slid bonelessly to the floor and laid on the soft bathmat, stared up at the ceiling.
What the hell had just happened? She gave a tremulous grin to the ceiling as the buzz of her natural high droned on and on.
Nothing could touch this feeling.
He hadn’t stayed to cuddle or whisper sweet nothings in her ear afterward. He’d looked at her like she was the sexiest thing in existence, dominated her, made her come first, and left her in a puddle, craving more.
Sex with him was sooooo…Sam.
Animal.
Monster.
Her animal.
Her monster.
Chapter Eleven
Okay. She was meeting the Kaids.
The Kaids.
Sam was driving her to meet the actual real-life Kaid brothers.
Wes and Hunter Kaid were legends. They owned the biggest ranch around these parts, and they were rough-and-tumble sorts who had put many-a-man through the windows of local bars. All the girls in town swooned over them. Even after they’d paired up with Maris and Sadey, the ladies in town became like little vultures, gossiping about any trouble in paradise they imagined.
“I saw Summer Kaid in the coffee shop the other day and she looked upset. She was frowning. Probably can’t handle Wes’s mood swings…”
No, she was probably just tired, hence why she was getting coffee.
Cassidy had even heard a mother hen at the Brown Stag Bar in town say that Hunter Kaid’s lady, Sadey, looked like she had narrow hips and probably wouldn’t get pregnant.
People were ridiculous with rumors in small towns.
But still, all the things she’d heard about the Kaids—their violence, mystery, anti-social tendencies, and their bullying prices at auctions—affected her nerves now.
She clutched the bottle of red wine in a stranglehold.
“You smell scared.” Sam’s voice was a gritty animal tone.
“Not scared…just nervous.”
His dark eyebrows furrowed deep over his chocolate brown eyes. “Why?”
“Well, because your brothers are intimidating. The whole town knows who they are. They’re like royalty around here. But royalty who has beat the shit out of several mouthy guys in town. Their reputation is a little nerve-racking.”
Sam shrugged. “Wes and Hunter aren’t the ones you should worry about.”
“What? Then who?”
“Bryson Locke. Grizzly bear shifter and off his rocker half the time. I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought you were in danger,” Sam said, turning under the Kaid Brother’s Ranch sign. “If they piss you off, just tell me, and I’ll kill them.”
She huffed a relieved laugh.
“I’m serious.”
And, eek, if he didn’t sound serious. She’d forgotten that Sam was dangerous because, well, she felt safe with him.
Her survival instincts were broken.
Sam reached across and squeezed her hand in a sign of affection that shocked her. He released her fast and mumbled, “I saw Wes do that with Summer once.”
Cassidy pursed her lips against a smile. Sam was gruff, strong, and didn’t take shit from anyone, but he was trying to match the needs he thought she had. A rich man could buy a million roses and fill her life with them, but they wouldn’t mean as much as Sam, working on himself just to make sure she was happy. A man who put in the effort to work on himself for the comfort of another person? It was hard work. The hardest work, perhaps. He didn’t have much, but what he did have, he gave her. That much was evident in the time he spent on her dad’s old car, in breakfast every morning, in the time with his horse, listening to her while she trained them both. It was in the way he said goodbye every day before he left to go back to work at the Kaid Ranch. He always muttered a goodbye, got in his truck, waited a few seconds, and then got back out. He always said, “I forgot.” Hugged her tight or sometimes kissed her on her forehead. Said, “Thank you.” For what? She had no clue. And then he would leave.
She had a feeling Old Sam would’ve just disappeared.
He was consciously growing habits to make her smile and feel secure.
And that was a sign of a good man.
The long drive to the sprawling log cabin in the center of the Kaid Brother’s Ranch was beautiful. Cows dotted the pastures on either side of the gravel road, and behind them, a dust cloud billowed. The sky was gray with clouds today, and she rested her wrist on the open window to catch the cool breeze. She’d done that in Dad’s old truck. Sam looked over at her with a smile she didn’t understand.
“What?” she asked.
“You always smile when you put your hand out the window. It’s the same smile every time. What are you thinking about?”
“When I was a kid, my dad always drove around town with the windows down. He told me once he would give me five bucks if I could catch a bug while we were driving.”
“Did you?”
“No, I never did. Eventually, as I got older, I gave up, but I was so used to having my hand out the window, it was just comfortable.”
“And now you smile because it’s a good memory.”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes I get memories. I’m looking down at a scene with me and Hunter, or me and Wes, or sometimes all three of us. It’s like I’m a fly on the wall, watching scenes from my old life.”
The wind blew a strand of her hair into her face, and she brushed it back. “What’s your favorite flashback?”
“Fishing. That flashback is like a collage of different fishing trips. It started happening last week when I met you. There’s an old fishing pole that’s resting in the corner by your front door up on the porch.”
“It was my brother’s when he was younger. He used to love to fish.”
“I keep looking at it because I get these visions of time with my brothers. Only in the visions, I’m different. They’re giving each other shit, giving me shit, and I’m dishing it back. And none of their insults make me angry. I’m smiling, but I don’t recognize my face like that. I’m younger. No beard, no scars, just…happy. Wes’s hair was short. Hunter always wore the same Peterbilt baseball cap. It has to be ten different fishing trips all mashed up together, different places, pulling different fish out of the water. I didn’t like the flashbacks until I had that one. Before, they just made me feel uncomfortable and broken because I’m not that person anymore. But now? I’m starting to be okay with being different, I guess.”
“Now, you’re better. Everything happens for a reason, Sam. You became the Sam now for a purpose. And maybe we don’t know what that purpose is yet, but I believe we’ll figure it out. Either way, I like you just fine. I’m gonna keep saying that until you like yourself, too.”
He squeezed her hand again and then pulled it away, put it back on the steering wheel. Gave her a side glance and then squeezed her hand again. This time he held it, though. Just wrapped his strong hand around hers and rested them on her thigh.
Perhaps he’d been turned into the New Sam so he matched her better. That was a romantic notion, and one she wouldn’t say out loud, but it felt right.
Good gah, she was falling too hard, too fast. Stop it, self. Focus on meeting your werewolf boyfriend’s werewolf family.
Boyfriend? Ha. Sam wasn’t her boyfriend…probably. She just had the biggest crush on him, and he boned her against bathroom countertops, brought her breakfast, said nice things to her, and she imagined having like seven of his babies and stuff. She probably needed to chug this wine.
He pulled to a s
top in front of the Kaid Brother’s giant cabin with its wraparound front porch and stone accents. One of the Kaids jogged down the stairs and looked at them like they were aliens. He skidded to a stop and just stared. He wore a white cowboy hat low over his shocked blue eyes, and his muscles bulged against his plaid button-down shirt. His belt buckle with a screaming bald eagle glinted in the sun, and there was a smear of cow shit across the knee of his jeans. She recognized him from around town. Hunter Kaid.
“Sam?” he asked.
“Yeah?” Sam muttered as he got out.
“There’s a girl in your truck.”
Sam growled. “I told you I was bringing her for dinner.”
“Yeah.” Hunter’s frown deepened. “It’s just I thought you were maybe having one of your crazy spells and made her up.”
“You fuckin’ serious?” Sam gritted out.
Okay. Cassidy scrambled out of the truck and strode for him, her hand extended. Don’t bite me, Mr. Werewolf. “I’m Cassidy.”
Hunter shook her hand and stared at her. Just stared. “Hey, Wes?” he drawled out.
“What?” echoed a voice from the monstrous barn to the right.
“The girl is real.”
“That’s great, Hunter. Where’s the blue bucket?”
“Wes?” Hunter asked again, still shaking Cassidy’s hand slowly.
“What?” he asked again, this time louder, madder. He stuck his head out the open sliding barn doors. “Oh, shit.”
Wes Kaid wore a dark brown hat over his chin-length hair, and his slanted cat-eyes narrowed on Cassidy. “Did he kidnap you?”
Cassidy cleared her throat and removed her hand from Hunter’s. “I’m not a kidnapping victim. Just Sam’s…” She looked at him, silently asking for help. What was she? “Just Sam’s,” she repeated lamely.
Wes came all the way out of the barn to stand there like a bump on a log, hands on hips as he shook his head in disbelief. “Hooooly fuckin’ shit. He done it.”
“I’m going to kill both of you if you don’t make this less awkward,” Sam promised.
“I’m Hunter,” the cowboy in front of her said immediately.
“Wes!” the other called from where he was jogging toward them.
“He likes to be called Wesley,” Sam enlightened her.
Hunter snorted and whispered, “Or Nut Grease.”
“That’s his nickname?” she asked, trying not to laugh.
“Oh, definitely,” Sam muttered. “He loves that name.”
“Nice to meet you, Wesley Nut Grease,” she said with a smile and an outstretched hand.
Wes stopped in his tracks, and his expression went dead as he looked at Sam. “I hate her already.”
“Good. I didn’t ask for your approval. Just that you sit down and eat some fuckin’ food with us.” A long snarl rattled his chest. “I need a shot of whiskey.”
Wes and Hunter both watched Sam stride for the house. He kicked up a dust cloud behind him with his angry steps.
“I think that’s the most words he’s put together for us since he got here.”
She didn’t understand. “What?”
“Oh, she’s dumb.” Wes nodded at Hunter knowingly. “That’s how he got her.” Slowly, and enunciating every word, he said, “That’s the most he’s voluntarily spoken to us since he moved here.”
“Right. Well, with me, he talks all the time, so excuse me if I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” She lifted her voice and aimed it at the house. “Sam?”
“No, don’t tell him Wes is being a dickhead,” Hunter hissed. “He’ll kill him. I’ll make you steak tonight if you just don’t get us killed.”
“Well, that’s a weird bribe, but I like steak,” she said low.
“Yeah?” Sam asked, peeking out of the front door. He was already glaring at Wes with a bone-chilling, murderous expression.
“Uhhh, I was just going to ask for a shot of whiskey, too,” she told him.
“And me!” Hunter spoke up.
Wes was poking something into his phone and muttered, “Also me. Bring the whole damn bottle. Clearly, Hell is freezing over so we should enjoy our last moments on earth. I’m not doing the end of the world shit sober.”
“Who are you texting?” Hunter asked.
“Bryson and the girls. They’re out with the heifers. I’m telling them Sam got a girl, and she ain’t even dumb. They’ll never believe this in a million years.”
“Why would I be dumb?” Cassidy asked, growing more and more irritated.
“Because…Cassidy, is it? That,” Wes whisper-screamed, jamming his finger toward the door, “is the biggest mess I’ve ever seen. And somehow, someway, he got a hot girl who actually seems intelligent and who cusses in a respectable way.”
“Is there an un-respectable way to cuss?” she whispered. “And why are we whispering?”
“Haven’t you heard those people who just say the F-word everywhere they can put it, and they sound ridiculous. You use it to punctuate sentences correctly. That’s a sign of intelligence.”
“Cussing well is a sign of intelligence?” she asked. “Seriously?”
“Bryson is bringing the girls back. Look,” he said, looking up at Cassidy, “we aren’t a well-mannered bunch, and the townies get curious, so if this is you just coming in here to spy and—”
“I’m here for Sam.” Anger blasted through her veins. They’d judged her before they’d even gotten to know her. “And don’t worry, your hairy little secrets are safe with me.” She turned and strode for the house. “I’ll give myself the tour.”
“What hairy secrets?” Wes demanded.
“Your barky-barky howl at the moon, shit on the grass, keep the townie pitchforks away kind of secrets.”
“Sam, you told her?” Wes yelled.
Good and pissed off, Cassidy leaned her head back and howled.
Sam met her on the porch with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a small stack of red Solo cups in his other hand.
“You want me to open your bottle of girl-juice?” he growled.
She looked down at the bottle of wine in her hands and set it on the porch railing. “Whiskey’ll do.”
When Wes and Hunter came to stand beside them, Sam growled at them. Wes growled at Sam. Hunter smiled. Cassidy pulled a cup from Sam’s death grip and poured a healthy shot of Jack. And then she guzzled it like a thirsty mountain man to the soundtrack of pissed-off wolves.
This was the weirdest family meeting ever.
One by one, they took the bottle and poured themselves a whiskey snack. Wes poured two.
“There. That’s better,” Hunter said with a bright smile. “This is amazing. Sam has a mate. And she already knows we’re shifters, so we don’t even have to hide from her.”
“Yeah, and when she tells the police?” Wes asked.
“Oh, yeah, can you dial 911 for me?” Cassidy asked sarcastically. “I feel like an arrest would be the best start to a relationship with Sam.”
Sam had backed away from the boys and was leaning against the railing on the other side of the porch. “She’s good.” That’s all he said. Simple as that.
Wes narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully. “Why are you here? With Sam?”
“Because he makes me feel happy.”
Wes’s eyes widened in surprise.
“That’s the truth,” Hunter murmured. “We can hear the truth.”
“How did you meet?” Wes asked.
“He brought his horse to me for training. There was something instantly. When I saw him, there was just…something.”
“In the air? Like electricity?” Hunter asked, his eyebrows arching up high.
“I guess. He felt special.”
“Wait, your horse is still alive?” Wes asked Sam.
Sam glared. “Why wouldn’t he be alive?”
“I thought you killed him.”
“Why would he kill him?” Cassidy asked.
“Because he kills everything? You’re dating the scari
est motherfucker this side of Saturn.”
The porch floorboards creaked as Sam stood up. His boots made hollow sounds on the wood as he approached. He handed Wes his phone. “Proof of life.”
“You have Instagram?” Wes asked. The shock on his face was downright comical.
“Gasp!” Cassidy said, feeling a little of that whiskey buzz. She dug her phone out of her back pocket. “I have Instagram, too! What’s your handle?”
“SamKaidhateseverything,” Wes read aloud. “Is this you?” he asked Cassidy, aiming Sam’s phone at her.
On his page, the profile picture was of a sunset, and the only post was a picture of a woman stretching her hand out, his horse stretching its nose out, and the moment they first touched with the sun rising behind them.
She didn’t know why it made her tear up, but it did. “Yes,” she said softly, “that’s me.” She turned to Sam. “Why is that the only picture on your page?”
He shrugged. “Haven’t found another picture that matters.”
Hunter sniffed.
“Are you fuckin’ crying, man?” Wes demanded.
“No.” Hunter was definitely crying. “Well, don’t look at me then! We thought Sam was dead all these years, and then we finally get him back. We went through hell to do it, and when he came here, he was broken as fuck, and look what happened, Wes. Look.” He jammed his finger at the picture on the phone. “He ain’t connecting to us. But he connected with something. With someone. You know what that says about him? About my brother? About our brother?”
Wes shook his head slightly.
“Means there’s hope for him. And if Cassidy is a part of that, then fuck it all, she’s fine by me. Welcome to the shit-show, Cassidy. Maybe you’re more wolf than all of us. I’m gonna make your steak the biggest tonight. ’Scuse me.” His voice cracked on the last word before he strode into the house and closed the door behind him.
“Cryin’ like a woman,” Wes muttered. But he didn’t have a heart of stone like he was pretending. Cassidy saw it. When he cast her a quick glance, his eyes were teared up, too. He looked at Sam and then away. At Sam, then away. “Your hair sure looks stupid today.” And then Wesley Nut Grease Kaid jogged down the stairs and strode back for the barn.
