by Afton Locke
“Soon,” she mumbled. “I’ll give you my answer soon.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Curtis grimaced and looked away. “I really ought to find another woman. You know that?”
She sensed he’d slept with human females on his business trips. Who could blame him? Working so hard often made her too exhausted for sex, and when she wasn’t tired, it hardly seemed worth the bother. Nevertheless, he kept returning to her, asking for a commitment.
“I’m not blowing you off this time.” She covered his hand with hers. “I’ll give you my answer in a few days, I swear.”
His voice dropped. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” She stood. “I’m going to flip the Closed sign. You can help me get everybody out.”
Curtis smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “You got it.”
When the front door opened, Shelley wished she’d flipped the sign earlier. She assumed the strange man walking in with halting steps was a lost tourist. A business traveler, by the looks of his khaki pants, oxford shirt, shaved head, and close-cropped beard. The blood rushing through her veins knew differently.
Alan was here.
As soon as Alan stepped into Moonlight Diner, he wished he could turn around and walk out. Getting off the plane at the Sarasota-Bradenton International Airport and sniffing the warm southern air had kicked him straight to the past. According to the directions Shelley had sent, the diner was on the way to his father’s cottage, so he’d stopped here first.
Swallowing hard, he glanced at the paneled walls adorned with pictures of nearby farmland. The place looked almost the same as the diner Dad had run in Georgia. Smelled the same, too—a mixture of fried burgers and orange air freshener.
Several pack members turned to ogle him. He froze—a deer in the headlights of their steady stares—and gritted his teeth.
The sound of a breaking dish pulled him out of his trance. When he turned to see what had happened, he found a blonde woman staring at him. She held up empty, work-worn hands. Practical, shoulder-length hair had replaced her long tresses. He let his gaze drift down her white tank top—stained with food but showcasing her perfect breasts—to a pair of short denim cutoffs, long, creamy legs, and the broken plate on the floor.
Shelley. Oh God. Shelley….
Her clothes blurred before his eyes, turning into a pink satin prom dress. No sleeves. Just silky, bare shoulders, begging to be caressed. His primitive wolf brain unlocked the scent of carnations until he stood in the schoolyard again back in Georgia.
His fingers trembled as he extended the corsage. “I-I brought this for you.”
But the bad feeling in his gut intensified when he realized she already wore one. A bigger, classier arrangement than the scraggly mass of blooms he’d assembled. When the couples standing around them snickered, her hazel eyes changed from soft but guarded to hard and mocking.
“What on earth would I do with that sorry thing?” she asked as she tossed it to the ground.
“Guys usually give them to their dates.” He swallowed, willing his body not to shake. “I am your date, aren’t I? You asked me to meet you here.”
“You?” She raised her chin. “Be serious. What would I want with you?”
He’d been set up. The invitation he’d received in his locker smelled like her perfume and was written in her handwriting. One of her friends must have forged it. Hell, the whole school was probably in on it. And here he stood, the biggest fool of all time.
The snickers bubbled into full-blown laughter. Each hacked into him with the force of a machete, pushing a primitive, dangerous button deep in his brain.
When Curtis stepped to her side, she wrapped her arm around him. “I already have a date.”
“I see.” He cleared the roughness in his throat. “I must have made a mistake.”
“Or gotten carried away by a wet dream.” Curtis sneered. “Beat it, Scabs. You couldn’t get a date if you paid a million dollars for it. Even an old hooker would throw up at the sight of you.”
Alan’s shaking intensified until he dropped to all fours. Before he could stop it, the most violent shift of his life racked him from limb to limb. When the transformation was complete, his classmates laughed even harder.
But when he lunged forward with snapping jaws, the humor died. The taste of Curtis’s shredded tuxedo, mixed with his blood, was as clear today as the scent of carnations. Homeland High’s senior prom…. A night he would never forget.
Alan shook himself, dragging his mind back to the present. He blinked, finally noticing the man standing next to Shelley. Curtis King. The man jerked as if he’d remembered the attack as clearly.
“Well, if it isn’t Scabs,” he drawled.
Some male laughs volleyed from the breakfast counter across the room. The urge to shift ripped through Alan’s gut and radiated to his fingers and toes, lighting up every nerve on the way. Because of his genetic mutation, he wasn’t the typical majestic wolf people admired. He had scabby, hairless spots in his fur, snaggly teeth, and a violent temper.
He was the freak of the wolf world.
He forced himself to think of flow charts and If/Then logic, one orderly branch leading to another. It didn’t work.
Don’t shift. Don’t shift. Don’t shift.
They’d laugh even harder if he gave in to the urge, and he’d end up ripping somebody’s head off. What the hell? It was as if the past five years had never happened. He’d deluded himself, hoping he’d magically recovered—at least a little. Standing here among his old classmates made it clear he hadn’t changed a bit.
If anything, he felt meaner than ever.
The last thing he wanted was another vicious fight with Curtis, especially with Shelley watching. Instead, he loped toward the kitchen and flung open the swinging door, harder than he intended.
“Dad?” he barked out. “Where are you?”
“He’s home,” Shelley said, stepping behind him. “I called not too long ago, and Rita Gomez, his caregiver, said he’s fast asleep.”
Caregiver? Is he really that sick?
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “We have some key lime pie left and plenty of meat loaf.”
Normally, traveling would make him starved, but the emotions still swirling through him stole his appetite. Why were her earthy eyes so soft? She looked as if she wanted him for dessert.
He wasn’t a stupid kid anymore. She’d looked at him that way in English class, too. A real actress. He’d actually believed she had a thing for him and was destined to be his mate. Why else would he have dressed up and showed up at the prom?
She probably played another joke on him. Maybe she’d lied about his father being sick to get him down here. From what he could tell, Moonlight was a small town. Had the pack gotten so bored it looked for more entertainment at his expense?
“No, thanks. I’ll head over there now using the directions you gave me. I could use some sleep myself.”
“Don’t be in such a rush,” Brett, one of the asshole jocks from high school days, said from across the room. “As soon as your old man passes, you’ll need to know how to run this place.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Barbara added. Had the short redhead remained Shelley’s best friend? “If his scabs don’t fall in the food, he’ll probably attack the tourists.”
“Maybe he’ll boil them in a pot and serve them to us as a lunch special,” Brett said.
The resulting laughter sounded as cruel as it had on prom night, and it still had the same effect, flaying into him like a bunch of knives. Barely surviving a brutal attack hadn’t blunted their bullying skills one bit. Unbelievable.
“What if he boils us?” Curtis speculated. “You know what he did to me in high school.”
“Enough!” Shelley put her hands on her hips and glared around the room. “The diner is closed. Get your butts out of here. I’m tired.”
Alan was already out the door, str
uggling to fight off a shift as a blanket of heavy, humid air hit him. Overhead, a perfect half-moon mocked him from a silvery-blue sky. Without thinking, he picked up the outdoor cigarette butt container—a heavy thing made of concrete—ready to toss it through the nearest car windshield.
“Alan!”
Shelley’s voice stopped him. He dropped the container, narrowly missing his foot, and fled. When she followed, he turned his head and growled at her.
“Stay the hell away from me!”
The sooner he saw his father the faster he could be on a flight back to Dulles. He never should have come here. He’d pay for the best care available if Dad needed it, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to hang around this rat-hole town and a pack who hated him as much as he hated them.
He dropped to all fours and kept running. His business casual outfit flew off him in tatters. When sharp, crooked teeth popped out, he licked the blood from his lips. The breeze tickled the bare patches through his fur, making him shiver.
“Alan, wait!”
The beast in him longed for her to shift, too, so he could roll her under him and make her submit. Growl against her soft throat and brand her with his love bite. As if that would ever happen.
Palmettos and thorny bushes ripped into him as he ran, drawing more blood. He hated the town, the pack, and himself for being such a freak. Mostly, he hated her for making him feel like a high-school failure all over again.
Chapter Two
Shelley hurtled through the thickets, batting branches away from her face as she chased Alan. Someone needed to. He was so out of control, he might hurt himself. Judging by the difficulty of his shift, she suspected he hadn’t done it in a while. She pocketed the car key he’d dropped along the way.
The urge to shift overwhelmed her, too, pulling at her limbs. Her earlier fatigue melted away. She hadn’t felt so alive since high school.
She stumbled over an exposed oak root and scraped her knee. It didn’t stop her long. She had to catch her mate. Comfort him. Fix the horrible mistake she’d made in their past.
After realizing the woods had grown silent, she stopped. No sign of his reddish-brown fur anywhere. Where had he gone? Don’t lose him again. She should have included instructions in her email to meet at his father’s house instead of the diner. Believing her classmates had matured over the years had been a big mistake on her part. A sick parent was enough stress for him to deal with.
Barbara’s condescending attitude hit her the hardest. They’d stayed best friends after graduation, but tonight made it clear she hadn’t outgrown their old clique mentality.
The sound of a moan pricked her ears. In seconds, she found him and knelt by his side. He was in human form again, naked as a jaybird, and covered with scratches. His bottom lip and the area below bled where his fangs must have punctured it. Since wolves were fast healers, the wounds turned to scabs before her eyes.
Scabs. The teasing voices replayed in her head, making her cringe. No wonder he’d moved away. Curtis had been the loudest among them. While she didn’t expect him to welcome Alan with open arms after their brutal fight on prom night, he could have acted more mature. Weren’t they all adults now?
She brushed her fingers across his forehead. “Are you all right?”
Unable to resist, she explored the trimmed beard, too. He definitely wasn’t a scruffy kid anymore, and the latest version of him looked even sexier than the one she’d fallen in love with years ago.
“I’ll live.” He rose to a sitting position. “And I told you to leave me alone.”
“You’re tired and stressed,” she argued. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re dressed, fed, and settled at your father’s cottage.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The note of teasing in his quiet voice shot a thrill through her body, out to her fingertips.
He accepted her hand to help him stand. With his other, he covered a burgeoning erection. A flush of heat crested inside her like a tidal wave. Although still a slender man, his arms were heavier and more defined. So was his abdomen. Mercy. Her fingers ached to explore each plane of his body.
“You must exercise a lot,” she blurted out. “I mean, not that I was looking.”
“Thanks.” He grinned and turned his head. “Working out at the gym helps keep my anger level low.”
“I have some clothes in my truck,” she told him. “Your business outfit didn’t fit in around here, anyway.”
She took a few steps toward the diner’s parking lot but stopped when he didn’t follow.
“I’d rather wear a tarp than Curtis’s clothes.”
So he knew they were still a couple.
“They’re not his. I have a whole bag full of clothing donations for the homeless shelter in Palmetto. I would’ve dropped it off sooner, but I’ve been canning vegetables and filling in at the diner since your dad’s been sick.”
Still covering his privates, he followed her. “Sounds as though you’re a pretty busy lady.”
She shrugged. “I like to help out wherever I can.”
“You’ve changed.” His smile looked so sexy in the moonlight. The ends of his top teeth were angled instead of straight across. The little imperfection hinted at the wolf in him and gave him a boyish grin that stole her heart.
“Thank God for that,” she replied. “I couldn’t exactly make a career out of being a shallow beauty queen.”
“But you could have been a model. You look tired.”
They stopped under a large oak tree. The moonlight filtering through the branches seemed to cast a spell over them. She’d forgotten how magnetic his eyes were. Fringed by black lashes, the pools of dark chocolate looked through her and melted her heart at the same time.
His unique scent, borne on the humid night air, wrapped around her and transported her back to high school English class. In it, she smelled his traveling fatigue, anger from the diner, raw arousal, and affinity. He was her mate. She’d suspected it in school, and now the older, wiser woman—and the wolf—in her knew it as fact.
Unfortunately, the knowledge remained as inconvenient now as then. Alan hated the pack and it hated him. Since the attack, the recovering Moonlight pack had interwoven so deeply into her life, it would be impossible to separate the two. Curtis was as well. Barbara, a handy seamstress, would probably sew her wedding dress. She wouldn’t be too thrilled if Shelley told her she wanted Alan instead. It might even end their friendship.
The breath halted in her lungs, too frozen to move in or out. Her gaze fastened onto his full lips. She’d dreamed of kissing him since high school. How would their lives have changed if she’d had the guts to do it back then? What if she did it now?
His sexy mouth parted. Hers did, too, so close she inhaled his warm, quick breaths. A shiver of desire rippled through her, hardening her nipples.
He pointed, breaking the spell. “I see a light. We’re not far from the parking lot.”
Thank goodness he’d broken it. She belonged to another man, almost. As he walked, he still covered his crotch with his hand. His erection had grown so large he could no longer conceal all of it. Shelley swallowed, trying to ignore the hot cream making her panties slide between her thighs as she walked.
Although his attraction to her appeared obvious, he’d made it clear he wanted to be left alone. Her eyes stung because she’d probably never have the only man she’d ever really wanted.
She had to tell him the truth about the prom, for the sake of her conscience if nothing else. It didn’t matter whether he forgave her or not. After that, she’d figure out how to tell Curtis she’d finally made up her mind about his proposal.
She couldn’t marry him. It wouldn’t be fair to him when she felt such a strong attraction to someone else.
***
Inside the cab of Shelley’s bronze pickup truck, Alan put on a T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans from her donation bag. They fit tight because they were too small. Not that it mattered. She’d already wit
nessed his bare erection in the woods. God, he hadn’t been that hard since he’d dreamed about her in high school.
The bed of the truck was full of rakes, shovels, and fruit and vegetable bins.
“You’ve got enough tools back there to supply food for the whole pack,” he commented.
“I pretty much do,” she replied. “I bought a farm with money I inherited from my daddy after he died in the attack. My mom and I do most of the work.”
Luckily, the other cars were already gone, giving them some privacy. He wiped his knuckles across his mouth, grimacing at the sore scabs. He was Scabs again, all right. Here he sat in Moonlight, Florida, feeling like the biggest failure who ever lived. His life in northern Virginia might have been dull, but at least he’d felt worthwhile. Like a man. No different than the others around him.
Despite his snaggly mouth, she’d looked ready to kiss him out there in the woods. The moon must have played tricks on him. She’d never wanted him. He’d hoped she would’ve grown up over the years, but the rest of the pack sure hadn’t. They’d acted like a bunch of schoolyard bullies in the diner, and he’d let them push his buttons again. Maybe he hadn’t grown up, either.
Did she need reassurance she remained sexy by getting every man she came across to drool at her feet? She merely had to look in a mirror. Whatever game she played with him now, he didn’t want any part of it.
He tipped his head and inhaled the air. Ever since their almost kiss, he’d gotten drunk off her unique scent—one he’d remembered over the years. It reminded him of a sweet, juicy orange. Inside the truck, it smelled stronger than it had been in the woods. The arousal in it, rich as a slab of key lime pie, stood out as obvious as his erection.
Knowing he made her hot helped make up for his crappy reception in the diner, but he had to focus on Dad. Miss Prom Queen wasn’t going to make a fool out of him a second time.
