by Becca Van
He softened ever so slightly. “No. It’s okay. Better you ask me than him. He doesn’t talk much about it.”
Malcolm paused for a swig of beer. “Jarrod fought a rogue wolf a few years back. They were a pretty even match. The bastard grabbed hold of Jarrod’s shoulder-length hair and swiped at his face with wolf claws. Normally we heal fast and don’t scar, but that was a fight to the death. When our bodies have to heal a lot of injuries, sometimes we can’t heal all wounds completely. Hence the scar on his face.”
“He killed the rogue wolf?” Rochelle asked softly.
Malcolm nodded. “And he’d do the same again if he had to.” He paused, apparently lost in thought. Then he continued, “Jarrod told us later that as he lay fighting for his life, he swore that if he lived, he’d shave his hair off and never grow it out again. Then no one would be able to use it against him.”
Rochelle fingered her own long hair. “That’s sad.”
“Well, being sheriff and all, it doesn’t hurt that he looks like a badass now. Intimidation can be an advantage.” His smile faded as he looked at Rochelle carefully. “He’d kill me if he heard me say this, but he feels a little insecure about his appearance. He knows what the scars do to women—they’re too scared to look him in the eye most of the time.”
“I’m not.”
“No,” Malcolm said thoughtfully. “You never flinch from him, and you always look him in the eye when you speak to him.”
Rochelle felt a little embarrassed. “I didn’t do anything special,” she said.
“No, I think it means a lot to him. And it means a lot to me,” he added in a softer voice, “that you said you’d stay for a while.”
She lifted her gaze to him. She had only to look into his green eyes before she felt like she was drowning in them. She became aware of how close they were sitting to each other. She could reach out and touch him if she only had the courage.
No sooner did she entertain that thought than Malcolm reached across and grabbed her hand. He pressed his lips to the soft skin on the back of her hand. His long eyelashes fluttered shut.
The simple gesture sent desire pooling in her belly. “How did you know I wanted you to do that?” she blurted. “I thought you couldn’t read minds.”
Malcolm looked up at her without letting go of her hand. “I don’t have to read your mind, baby. It’s written all over your face.”
He pushed his chair back from the table and tugged her toward him. “Come here.”
* * * *
Malcolm’s wolf senses caught the leap of her heart and the way its beat picked up. Her breathing escalated until she was literally panting for breath. He let her see the desire he felt for her and watched as her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. She quickly lowered her eyes and licked her lips.
Malcolm nearly groaned out loud. He could just imagine that little pink tongue swiping over the head of his cock before she opened her mouth and took him in. As he inhaled, he opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and breathed her in. The scent of her musk called to him, and his inner beast pressed at him as his muscles grew even tauter and his hard cock pulsed against the zipper of his pants.
Every time her gaze landed on him, his skin tingled and his cock pulsed. God, he wanted so much to strip her naked and explore her sexy little body. His wolf was continually pushing at him, but he kept control. Just.
He tugged at her hand. Rochelle stood and edged around the corner of the table. She stood still with her head lowered. Even though she didn’t know it, her position was a form of submission, and his wolf rumbled with approval.
Her eyes flicked up to his once more, and she quickly lowered her head again, her hair falling forward, and he knew she was trying to use it as a shield against him. This had to end now. He couldn’t take much more. His wolf had been at him to claim her the moment it had set eyes on her. If he didn’t do something now, he was scared his animal would wrest control from him.
“Look at me, Rochelle.” He cursed the sound of his own voice. It was so deep and gravelly he had to prevent a wince from forming on his face. Her head snapped up, and she looked at him in surprise. Whether that surprise was from his command or his tone he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t really care. All he cared about was having his mate in his arms.
He pulled her close and then down into his lap. She sat in a sort of trance, her eyes huge and her breathing rapid.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He took her mouth in a ravenous kiss. His tongue pressed for entry into her mouth, and she opened to him beautifully. His wolf howled and demanded more. Just a kiss wasn’t going to be enough for him, and judging by the way Rochelle melted in his arms, it wasn’t enough for her, either.
Malcolm forced himself to break the kiss. If he didn’t stop this now, he wouldn’t be able to call his wolf off. Grabbing her around the waist, he picked her up and placed her on her feet. Rochelle wove a little, watching him with an expression of intense surprise. Once again she began to ask, “What…?”
He only shook his head. His brothers had been right to go for a run. Staying with Rochelle, being saturated in the scent of her desire, would only drive him insane.
He walked to the back door. As soon as he was outside, he stripped out of his clothes and changed to his wolf form within two strides.
He ran and ran and ran. But no matter how fast or far he travelled, her scent was embedded in his soul. Finally he slowed, his muscles quivering with tiredness, and stopped to look up at the moon. His mournful howl was echoed back to him by other unmated males roaming the grounds.
Chapter Eight
The next morning at breakfast, Rochelle was buttering her toast when Jonah Friess stood up at the head of the table and called for quiet. The others at the table—other wolves, Rochelle had to remind herself—all fell silent before Jonah spoke.
“I would like all of you to welcome Rochelle Murphy as a guest of the Friess Pack. She is the mate to Jarrod, Malcolm, and Braxton, and while she is still deciding whether she will become a permanent member of our pack, I expect all of you to show her the utmost hospitality.” He turned his attention to Rochelle. “Rochelle, as the pack’s Alpha, and perhaps someday your Alpha, too, welcome to our home.”
Rochelle felt herself blush as the huge table erupted into cheering and clapping. She felt a little embarrassed to be the object of so much attention, but it swelled her heart, too. She’d never had a family, and she loved the warmth with which the pack seemed to accept her already.
She waited until the table had quieted and her own thoughts had settled before she leaned over to Jarrod, who was sitting closest to her. “What’s an Alpha?”
“The leader of the pack,” Jarrod answered. He paused to crunch some bacon. Rochelle averted her eyes until he’d finished.
She was so conflicted about agreeing to mate with one man, let alone three, but also about how they were going to deal with her being a vegetarian. Did it embarrass them that she couldn’t stomach eating meat? And how was she going to survive every meal when just the smell of the meat and seeing others eat it caused her discomfort?
Plus she was a prude, or so she had been told. How the hell was she going to make love to three men? It might work out if they only wanted her one at a time, but deep down she knew they would all want to touch her and make love with her together.
She had so much to figure out she wasn’t sure what to do. But she knew one thing for certain. She wanted all of them. The more time she spent with them the deeper her feelings grew.
Jarrod’s voice pulled her from her reverie. “We have three Alphas in our pack. Jonah, Mikhail, and Brock are the most senior wolves of the Friess Pack. But Jonah is the most dominant over all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Jonah is the most powerful wolf in the pack,” Braxton said from her other side. “He has the last say, and his word is Pack Law.”
“That doesn’t mean that our Alphas don’t take suggestions and advice from the rest of us,”
Jarrod said. “In fact, Jonah and his brothers are very good Alphas. They always put the rest of the pack before themselves. But if there is any conflict and no one can agree on a resolution, Jonah can and will use his power to cease any arguments.”
“What power?”
“Jonah has the ability to compel compliance just by using his voice,” Jarrod said. “Actually, so do the Betas like us. Betas are second in command to our Alphas.”
“We’ve only discovered recently that mated males can also use their voices to compel their mate’s obedience,” Braxton added.
Compel? That didn’t sound good. “What…”
Jarrod interrupted, “The only time that any male has used that compulsion was when their mate’s life was in jeopardy or they could be injured. We would never force a woman into doing anything they didn’t want to do.”
“Which brings us to a good question,” Braxton said. “What are you doing today, sweetheart?”
If Rochelle leaned forward a little, she could see Malcolm on Braxton’s other side. It was impossible not to think about the way he’d kissed her last night. She felt her face heating again as she thought about exactly what she wanted to do today with each of them.
She answered hastily, “I don’t know. Can’t I hang out with you guys?”
“We have to work,” Jarrod said.
“We’re the entirety of Aztec’s law and order, you know,” Braxton added with a wink.
“Too right we are,” Jarrod grumbled.
Rochelle glanced between them. “Are you shorthanded?”
“Well, our dispatcher is pregnant. As of next week, she’s gone on maternity leave. Which means, I’ll spend most of the week hiring.” Braxton made a face.
“Hire me.” It popped out of her mouth before Rochelle could think it over, but for once she didn’t regret her impulsive words, not even when Braxton’s eyebrows went up and Jarrod’s came together in a frown.
“Not a good idea,” Jarrod said.
“Why not?” He’d taken another bite of bacon, though, so Rochelle turned her attention to Braxton. “I’m a fast learner, and I don’t want to sit here doing nothing. I’ll get bored.”
“Hang out with the other women,” Jarrod said. “They’ll show you the garden.”
Braxton chuckled. “Jarrod, what do you think is going to happen when they hand her gardening tools? She’ll have knocked herself unconscious as soon as they hand her a rake.”
“Will not!” Except she could kind of see that happening, too.
Malcolm leaned around his brother and said, “Same thing goes if she tries to go with Samantha to the club. No offense, baby, but I don’t think you should go near a stove.”
“All the more reason for me to come with you,” she said firmly. “You can keep me from hurting myself.”
She caught the look that passed between Malcolm and Braxton. They saw her point even if they wouldn’t admit it.
She turned to Jarrod and pressed her advantage. “How much damage can I do to myself if it’s my job to answer the phone?”
“The sheriff’s department is not safe,” Jarrod said firmly. “And that’s final.”
Rochelle narrowed her eyes at him.
Braxton sat back in his chair, chuckling. “Oh man,” he said. “Now you’ve done it.”
* * * *
An hour later, Jarrod pulled into his parking lot outside the Aztec Sheriff’s Department with Rochelle in the passenger seat. She beamed at the building. Her new place of employment.
Braxton and Malcolm had been much easier to wear down than Jarrod. By the end of breakfast, she’d had both of them trying to persuade their brother that she would be helpful and that they’d feel better keeping her in their sights. Jarrod had threatened to pull rank a couple of times, but Rochelle could tell he didn’t really want to leave her at the pack house while the three of them were working. He finally agreed to take her to the office on the condition that she slowed down and tried not to hurt herself.
True to that promise, Rochelle went about getting out of the four-by-four very carefully, but Jarrod caught her arm before she’d even opened the door.
“I don’t want you leaving the office unless one of us is with you, Rochelle,” Jarrod said. “There have been a few strangers in town, and until we know why they are here, I want you within our sights.”
“Surely they’re just people passing through. Why are you so worried?”
“There have been some weird incidents lately. Some…coyote or something.”
“Coyote?” she repeated. “Not a were?”
“The only weres in Aztec belong to the Friess Pack. We don’t tolerate lone wolves out here.” There was something about his tone that told Rochelle not to press the point. Jarrod went on, “If you want to go out anywhere, you let one of us know and we’ll come with you.”
“Okay,” she said. Since she had only just convinced them to let her work, she wasn’t about to rock the boat.
Jarrod led her inside, introduced her to a very heavily pregnant Trudy, and then left for his office. Malcolm and Braxton went to their own desks to begin work.
By the end of the day, Rochelle had picked up the workings of the police radio and how to fill in the paperwork necessary for each 911 call. She was to work with Trudy for the rest of the week, just so the other woman knew she had a handle on everything.
There had been several calls regarding accidents, which Malcolm and Braxton had attended to, but other than that the day had been relatively quiet.
Just as they were packing up for the day, a man walked into the office and demanded to see the sheriff. Rochelle didn’t like the look of him. Not that she could have said what it was about the man that gave her the willies. It was just a gut feeling. She let Jarrod know that a man calling himself Harold James wanted to see him.
She watched surreptitiously as Jarrod led him to his office before she went back to helping Trudy set up for the night dispatcher. Harold left Jarrod’s office looking a little more than pissed off. As he walked past her desk, though, he slowed. It looked like he was sniffing the air. He turned and pinned her with his cold, dark eyes, and the grin he gave her looked more than a little malicious.
Rochelle stepped back even though he wasn’t close enough to touch her and then cursed herself for showing any weakness in his presence. An evil gleam flashed in his eyes, and then he left the office.
“Are you ready to go, darlin’?” Braxton asked as he entered the office from outside. “Malcolm is waiting in the truck. Jarrod is going to be another hour before he can get away.”
“Okay,” she squeaked.
Brax walked toward her and studied her intently. “Are you all right, Rochelle?”
“Fine. I’m just a little tired.” And imagining weird things. She must be getting used to hanging around weres if she thought people were smelling her.
“Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”
* * * *
Over the next week Rochelle became proficient at and more comfortable with her new job, and instead of Trudy doing the work, she did. Trudy was more than happy to let her take control. She hadn’t seen any more of that creepy man, Harold, and even though she had wanted to ask Jarrod about him, she didn’t. She figured she was just being paranoid. There had been no reason for her to take an instant dislike to a stranger.
Returning home on Friday evening, Rochelle joined the other women in the living room for a glass of wine. Malcolm and Braxton had gone out for a run. Even though she would have loved to go outside and watch them change into their wolf forms again, there had been other males with them, and one thing she was definitely not ready for yet was to see other men naked.
Looking down when she felt small hands on her calves, she smiled and reached out to help Stefan to his little feet. Stefan was the Alphas’ child, and he was so cute she couldn’t resist picking him up. He gave her a cheeky grin and then tangled his fingers into her hair, giving a good tug. Rochelle didn’t mind though.
Ke
ira was currently nursing her six-month-old daughter, Emma, and Talia was burping her two-month-old son, Riley, and she wondered if Samantha was pregnant, as she was sipping a cup of tea instead of drinking alcohol. Michelle had been mated to the Alphas for over two years and Keira and Talia for a little less than that. Samantha was still relatively new to the family, having been part of the pack for only six months. But all the women seemed to have become fast friends, and Rochelle envied them their close camaraderie.
The pack members doted on the newest arrivals to the family, and there always seemed to be someone willing to relieve the new mothers if they looked like they were flagging. She cuddled Stefan and gently removed her hair from his little hands, then proceeded to lift his top and blow raspberries on his tummy. The gurgling laughs he produced were contagious, and she found herself laughing along with him.
“Do you want children of your own?” Michelle asked, taking the seat next to Rochelle on the sofa.
“Maybe someday. I’ve always loved children, not that I’ve been around any since I left the orphanage.”
The toddler in her lap reached for his mom. Rochelle passed him over to Michelle, feeling wistful at the sight of the baby with his mother. “I never thought I’d have a man of my own,” she said to Michelle.
The other woman’s eyes twinkled. “Or men.”
Rochelle laughed, reaching for her wine to hide her embarrassment. She still wasn’t used to talking about this. “Or men,” she agreed. “I was too hell-bent on finding what was missing to even think about starting a family of my own…but I think that’s what was missing.”
She looked around the room, at the women and their babies. She couldn’t imagine leaving. The idea of getting back in her car and continuing her road trip gave her an actual physical pain in her chest. This is where I’m supposed to be.
Keira spoke up from the other side of the room. “Can I ask you a question, Rochelle?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Why are you vegetarian? Speaking as a werewolf, it’s kind of hard to grasp.”
