Shifter's Choice

by Annalise Nixon

  “About that. I…um…” She cleared her throat, and a burgundy flush darkened her cheeks. “I’m never that impulsive.”

  “Hey.” He placed two fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face until their gazes met. “No shame, never with me.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  How did she make him hornier with that glimpse of shyness? He liked it, and despite knowing her for three minutes, he already knew he liked her too. “Anytime you need a ride…” He rubbed his cheek against hers in a motion more feline than wolf. “I’m your guy.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She backed away.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “No, I’m here with friends.” She paused at the doorway. “But I’ll be here tomorrow night, if you’re around.” She didn’t wait for his answer, slipping back into the main room.

  “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He studied her high, round ass as she walked off into the crowd, smiling as he memorized her delicious scent. Besides his unsated lust, she left behind the subtle hint of grapefruit, the fragrance of an indiscernible flower, and…

  He stared at the crowd until they merged into one amorphous, shifting blob. How could he have missed it? No way in hell could both he and his wolf be wrong.

  She was human.

  Chapter 3

  Candy pulled up in front of a compound that looked more like a prison. If the razor-sharp barbed wire atop the chain link didn’t scare visitors off, the massive array of cameras bolted to the rooftops would make a sane person think twice.

  Was anyone even here? The isolated unit looked so abandoned, she expected a tumbleweed to roll across the dry grass. Hey, maybe they’d left on a mission. That would be perfect. The Army spends thousands of dollars and man hours training helicopter pilots for the Special Operations Aviation Regiment, also known the Night Stalkers. Eighteen freshly trained, ready to roll pilots report for orientation, and what do they do?

  Ship the lone woman off to a Special Forces team leaving in less than a month.

  “Okay.” Candy slapped her thighs and pumped her fists. “Enough with the pity party, Murphy.” So what if her things wouldn’t be here until next week? She had enough clothes to last until then.

  A knock against the window, and she jerked.

  “Sorry about that. Ma’am, are you okay?” a man asked through the closed window.

  Nodding, she killed the ignition and grabbed her cover from the seat. She got out of her Jeep. “I’m fine, just embarrassed.” From her new angle, she saw a few civilian vehicles parked beside the building: a Tahoe, a dusty black Mustang, and a vintage Harley.

  “May I help you with something…” His glance darted from her collar emblems to her name tape. “Lieutenant Murphy?”

  “Hopefully”—it was her turn to check out his name—“Lieutenant Song. I’m here to see a Captain Renault. Is he in?” Song was freaking beautiful, long eyelashes over kind, not-quite-hazel eyes. The sharp, almost pointed chin should have made him look like an elf, but all it did was draw attention to his mouth.

  Yet as attractive as she found him, he did absolutely nothing for her.

  Yup, she was broken.

  “I’m headed that way,” he said. “Follow me.”

  She walked beside him, only half listening to his idle chatter, because her thoughts were back in that hallway. Had she and biker boy not been interrupted, she would’ve had the mother of all orgasms. In public. Which was not acceptable. What if someone from her command had seen her? Not cool at all.

  Which was why she’d chickened out last night. That, and he scared the ever-living hell out of her. Not because of anything he said or did, but because of her response to him.

  She sighed. Just thinking about it made her need another cold shower.

  “You okay?” Song paused at the gate, his fingers hovering above the numbers.

  “Pay me no mind.” She turned away so he could enter the code, which probably changed weekly, if not daily. “I arrived just two days ago. Still settling in. You know how it is.”

  He pushed the gate open, and when he turned back to her, his nostrils flared. “Luckily, I won’t have to deal with that shit much longer.”

  Well, it looked like chivalry wasn’t dead after all. Song moved aside, allowing her to pass. Once she cleared the gate, he closed it behind her and gave it a tug. When he reached her side, he glanced down at her bare left hand and rewarded her with a grin that would have blinded a mere mortal.

  Too bad for him she was the goddess of not interested.

  “I guess congratulations are in order?” she asked. “Are you remaining local?”

  “Is that a request?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Candy laughed and shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  That spark of interest she’d seen a second ago was gone so quick, she realized flirting was as natural for this man as breathing.

  “Damn, sis, it’s like that?” he teased, before moving on to light banter.

  They walked past a Quonset hut and stopped at a low two-story building. After Song punched in another set of codes, they stepped into a large open area. On the far right side of the cavernous space, two men battled at a ping pong table with a speed that would put the Chinese Olympic team to shame. Between the blur of their hands and pitter patter of the ball, she was all but hypnotized.

  “Heads up.” The shout came from her left.

  She jerked out of her daze in time to see a soccer ball headed in her direction. This she could handle. Shifting her body while keeping her eye on the ball, Candy removed her hat, tossed it on the floor, then backed up two steps and performed a perfect header. Her forehead stung where the ball connected, but it was worth it when she saw the stunned expressions of the men in the room.

  A tall man who belonged in wilderness caught the ball. “Marry me.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to hang out here for the next month. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.” She ran her hand over her pulled-back hair and smiled. “But I’ll keep you in mind.”

  “What the hell are you assholes doing?” a man yelled from upstairs.

  “We just found a ringer for the base coed soccer team.” Mountain man stopped bouncing the ball and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

  “We don’t have a fucking soccer team.” Boots thumped across the tile and down the stairs.

  That voice…

  No, it couldn’t be him. She has biker on the brain again. Instead of remembering how incredible he felt against her, she focused on the here and now. “I went to college on a soccer scholarship. So, if you guys really do play, I’m game.”

  “What are you doing here?” The man stooped at the bottom of the stairs, glaring.

  Oh, Lord. It was him.

  The room fell as quiet as a cemetery.

  “Pardon me?” she said. What had happened to his personality since last night? They’d kissed, but so what? That was nothing to be angry about. And he did not have the right to embarrass her in front of men she’d have to work with. “Captain Renault, I don’t believe this is the appropriate—”

  “My office.” He walked three steps closer then stopped. His gaze traveled from her ponytail down to her brand-new boots. And if the sneer was any indication, he found her wanting. “Now.”

  She glanced around the room to find the men staring. The only thing missing at this point was popcorn. Oh, hell no.

  “I have no idea where your office is, sir.” She hoped the disdain dripped from her words. What she really wanted to give him was a good punch in the face.

  “Yo, Captain?” Mountain man jogged up and stood beside her.

  The captain could go call whoever the hell he wanted, but he was going to listen. She was tired of being treated like a cute accessory to pull out when people needed a diversity quota. She was a member of the Night Stalkers, one of the most badass flying units in the army. Delta team or not, she wasn’t taking h
is shit.

  “You obviously have me confused with someone else.” She put her hands on her hips and smiled. “But trust me, I would not be here if I had a choice. And if you think I’m going anywhere with you after the way you just spoke…”

  “Don’t make me repeat myself, Lieutenant.”

  “Yo—I mean, no, Captain. You okay?” Song stepped between them. “I could take care of this.”

  “No.” Captain Asshole stepped to the side and stared at Candy. “This is personal.” His jaws were clenched tight enough to crack a couple of molars.

  “Perhaps you didn’t comprehend what I said earlier. So I’ll speak slower. Would that help?” She didn’t give a shit that he outranked her. If he wanted to act like an ass in front of his men, he could go ahead. “I came to introduce myself. I’m Lieutenant Murphy, and I’ll be your assigned pilot from the Night Stalkers for the next few weeks.”

  Captain Asshole looked around the room at the men not bothering to contain their curiosity. “Don’t you jackasses have something to do?”

  “Nope,” said a guy slapping a ping pong paddle against his thigh.

  “Whoever decided this was a good idea needs to pull their head out of their ass.” His voice had gone from yelling to deadly calm.

  And she had no more fucks to give.

  “Well, Captain, you’ll have to discuss that with your boss. In the meantime, call me or not. I’ll get paid either way.” Prick.

  The captain frowned so hard his brows drew together. Then he stared at her for a couple heartbeats more before he walked away. Everyone stared as he returned to what she guessed was his office and slammed the door.

  “Well, that was interesting.” Candy shrugged and attempted a playful grimace. Out of all the sexy biker boys on the planet, why did she have to make out with him?

  Chapter 4

  “Dish.” Frieda Bragg, Candy’s friend from ROTC, leaned her elbows on the bar and waited anxiously. “I would gladly trade places with you.”

  “Why don’t you go talk to the Colonel. Maybe he can make that happen.” Candy couldn’t believe two of the most no-nonsense women she knew sat there acting like schoolgirls. “No offense, but we were here last night. I’d like to check out another place.”

  “Come on, Chip, you had to notice the fuckability factor in that unit.” Dara twirled a lock of her white-blond hair around a finger. “I’ve been trying to get assigned to one of their trips for months.”

  “Are you guys even listening?”

  “No.” Frieda shook her head. “Not until you say something we want to hear.”

  “Bitches.” Candy sighed. Today was a disaster of the highest order. She kept watching her cell phone, waiting for a call from her CO, complete with ass chewing. “Trust me, you haven’t missed anything. And for the love of all that’s holy, stop calling me Chip.”

  “I prefer Candy,” a deep, sexy, and definitely unwanted voice said from behind her.

  “Go away.” Candy almost laughed at her friends’ horrified expressions. Women were pathetic, herself included. She turned around, and one look at the smirk on his too-handsome face made her want to commit another act of violence. At this rate, she’d be barred from Dixie’s her first week in town.

  “May I have a moment?” His voice held no humor, but those gray eyes of his held more than a little mirth.

  Having it out in front of another audience didn’t sound appealing. Too bad he wasn’t above doing it twice in one day.

  He stepped between her and Dara, and leaned down to whisper, “Please.”

  Candy was not going to think about how delicious he smelled, or how his breath against her ear made her want to taste him again. Him being this close was already inappropriate enough.

  Yeah, her life sucked.

  “Save my seat.” Candy slid off the opposite side of her stool. The one not blocked by a bearded sex god. “This won’t take long.” She grabbed her beer and walked away, hoping to somehow avoid another embarrassing encounter. One a day was her limit.

  Like a giant sheepdog, he herded her to the area with the pool tables. She had to give herself credit, instead of dreaming up inventive ways to torture Captain Renault, she tried to recall the little information she could garner from the team’s files. After his response this morning, she didn’t need to know about his remarkable ability to complete a mission despite overwhelming odds. The fact that the Army has offered them ridiculous bonuses to stay meant nothing.

  All she wanted was to far away from the Captain.

  “This is far enough.” She turned and looked up at his smug face, and took another step backward. “Look, I’m on my own time here. So let’s get this over with. One”—she raised her index finger—“today was unnecessary, unfair, and in my opinion, unprofessional.”

  “Why don’t—” he started.

  “Oh no,” she interrupted. “You had your say earlier, so you’re going to stand there and listen.”

  “Is that so?” He crossed his arms and nodded. “Go right ahead.”

  “Two”—a second finger joined the first—“it’s pretty damn clear that if you had your choice, we wouldn’t work together. Buddy, the feeling is mutual.” She lowered her hand and balled it into a fist.

  “Number three?” His voice lowered.

  “And…and… Oh hell, there is no number three. Look, Captain Asshole, I’m going to rejoin the people that want to spend time with me. So you have a good evening.” Yeah, she really needed to leave before he wrote her up. But unfortunately, she’d reached that point where her emotions overruled her common sense. “I lied. If I do have to work with you, the one positive thing I can say is that the rest of your teammates don’t seem to be huge dicks like you.”

  Oh crap.

  Candy squeezed her eyes shut, but she didn’t lower her head. No, that felt cathartic.

  “Well, thanks,” someone said, followed by at least three masculine chuckles.

  “Tell me we don’t have an audience.” She held the beer mug against her forehead.

  “You do, but I gotta say, that was fucking spectacular. You’re going to fit right in,” Song said from behind her.

  She glared at Renault, not missing the lip twitch. She turned around and shrugged. “What can I say? I know how to make an entrance. So who’s ready for another round?”

  “Women don’t buy drinks around me,” Renault said.

  “As far as you’re concerned, I’m not a woman.” The heat in his gaze as it traveled down her body told her he disagreed.

  “Gotcha.” Renault nodded walked away.

  “Come on, Murphy, pop a squat.” Shane nudged a chair, and it slid from beneath the large round table.

  “Thanks.” She pulled the chair closer, plopped down, and extended her legs. “So, how’s it going?” She hadn’t been to this part of Dixie’s. It was a tad less rambunctious than the main bar, and way quieter than the dance area. Two pool tables, an old-school pinball machine, and a small foosball table, along with a dartboard kept the other occupants busy.

  “Better now that you’re here.” Jake grinned mischievously. “Looking at these ugly mugs wears on a guy.”

  “I bet.” She returned his smile. From looking around the table, she had to agree with Dara about the fuckability factor in the group. In other words, they were all safe.

  “So, what brings you out tonight?” Shane filled an empty mug and placed it in front of her.

  “Thanks.” She finished off the beer she’d brought with her and sat it with the other empties. “I was catching up with a couple of old friends before my squadron invades, but your lovely captain interrupted.”

  “You mean Captain Asshole.” Shane grinned. “I gotta tell you, that was classic. I’m thinking that should be his handle.”

  “I’ve probably crossed one line too many.” She’d yelled at a captain like a fishwife. Then had the nerve to call him unprofessional.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ve called him worse,” Jake said.

  “Not t
o my face you haven’t.” Bryce sat two pitchers of beer in the center of the table and took the empty chair across from her.

  “I take it you and Captain Asshole know each other?” Shane asked.

  “Not really.” Renault immediately took control of the conversation. “And I sure as hell didn’t know she’d make another surprise appearance.”

  “Do you not like women?” She gave him a challenging smile, like the one he’d served up earlier.

  “Oh, I like women just fine.” He leaned back in his chair, extended his long legs, and interlaced his fingers behind his head. Which just so happened to give her the opportunity to appreciate how well his black Henley fit.

  “It’s not like I’ll be hanging out playing soccer, so don’t worry about me getting in your way.” She glared at Bryce, daring him. To do what? She had no damned idea, but the man made her want to do things. Unfortunately, some of them required them to both be naked.

  “Speaking of soccer, you’re pretty good,” Smitty, the ping pong expert, said.

  “Thanks. I went to college on a soccer scholarship before I joined ROTC.”

  “Sweet. We try to play when we have a chance.” Shane refilled his beer. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  “I’d love to.” She opened her mouth and snark almost escaped. Instead, she sipped her beer. See, she still had a modicum of self-control.

  “Go ahead, say it.” Bryce leaned on the table, wrapping his long fingers around his beer.

  “You don’t seem like a soccer kind of guy.” Candy sat her mug down and interlaced her fingers.

  “And what kind of games do you see me playing?” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  Holy crap. She took a sip of her beer, uncertain if it was to hide her mouth or because every bit of moisture seemed to have headed south. He gave her a I-can-have-you-anytime-I-want look, which served a big ole bucket of ice water. “The kind where you prove your point by leaving your opponent battered and bloody.”

  “Well, damn, she has your number.” Shane slapped his hand on the table and chuckled.