What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

by Kristin Miller

  His heartbeat sped. “Marriage is a horrible idea, in my honest opinion, and I have no problem sharing it with anyone who asks.”

  “I don’t know how you can say that.”

  “I bet your father was a traditional, fifties-style man of the house, wasn’t he? Probably a romantic at heart, and taught you everything he knew. He brought your mother flowers on Valentine’s Day and every anniversary without skipping a beat. Others weren’t so lucky. Some of us have had examples of how horrible marriages could be for everyone involved. I can guarantee you didn’t see your parents’ marriage fall apart, and then watch your mother remarry a piece of garbage who cheated more than he told her he loved her.”

  She stared, her mouth dropping open. ”I—I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

  “No reason to apologize. It’s not your fault.” He shrugged as if the past didn’t bother him, but the single memory of his mother crying late at night in their living room tugged at something inside him. “People get married too quickly, without really knowing the person. Even years with someone might not be long enough to enter into that kind of commitment.”

  Cradling the mug in her hands, Josie backed away and perched on the edge of the couch across from his desk. “Is that why you went into private investigating?”

  Damn it. He hadn’t wanted to talk about this. Not now, and not with her.

  “One of the reasons.”

  As simple and complicated as that.

  “My father didn’t buy my mother flowers,” she said after a few tension-filled seconds. “He bought her expensive jewelry to make up for the long hours he spent away at work. He was never home, but he was faithful, at least what we know. He retired early so he and my mom could spend quality time together.”

  “Sounds picture-perfect,” he said, and tried not to sound snide.

  Her lips pursed into a hard-pressed line. “And then he died two months later from a heart attack.”

  He’d stepped right into that one.

  “That sucks.” And that probably wasn’t the smoothest response. Emotions had never been his strong suit. “I’m sorry, Josie.”

  “It’s fine.” She stared him dead in the eye with more strength than he was expecting. “It taught me that life is short, and you have to show people that you love them when you have the chance. You can’t wait. You have to capture the moment while it’s there, because if you wait for the right one, it’ll never come.”

  As he stared into her soft doe eyes, pieces of her story kerplunked into place like a puzzle. The matchmaking, the bold speech, the way she hooked up couples quickly, without thinking about the long-term ramifications. For Josie, there might not be a long-term. She’d seen it happen with her parents.

  She stood slowly, brushing her hands over her jeans. The material was tight—couldn’t get any tighter, actually. She probably had a hell of a time getting into them. Bet he could get her out of them pretty quick, though. He’d flip her on her back. Adjust her knees so they bent on either side of him. Slowly, carefully, he’d unbutton her pants, and raise her hips so he could strip her bare.

  Mine.

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you the applications are only a small part of the matchmaking process?” she asked, though he couldn’t take his gaze off her hips. “When I say Mitch and Carrie are compatible, you can rest assured I mean it? Umm, Ryder? Are you even listening to me?”

  Were they really still in the same conversation? And when had he begun to clam up? He wiped a bead of sweat off his temple and tried to focus on what she’d said.

  Knowing Josie didn’t simply read numbers on an application and throw two strangers into the fold did ease some tension in his gut, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how sexy Josie was, no matter how much he wanted her, it was wrong of her to want to push Carrie and Mitch together. Especially since Mitch was harboring such a major secret.

  Ryder strode closer, unsure what he’d do when he reached her. Would he pin her against the wall? Grip her hips and pull her closer? Or would he brush the hair out of her face and secure the rogue strands behind her ear?

  He wasn’t sure what he was capable of when he was with her. It seemed as if he was always riding the very fine line between embracing her and ripping her clothes off.

  As he closed the gap between them, the heat that usually followed her fanned over him in a rich wave. She smelled sweet, like vanilla and honeysuckle. Had she stopped by a candy shop before coming to see him?

  She probably tasted as decadent as she smelled.

  He nearly groaned at the thought.

  As his feet came to rest near hers, her pupils widened, and the tiny vein on her neck began to pulse quickly. He craved her like no other. Had to have her.

  Mine.

  “That does ease my worry,” he said, looking down upon her angelic face. God, she was gorgeous, her features soft, yet defined. Sensual lips, high cheekbones, bright, innocent eyes. She’d offered an olive branch; he had to do the same. “Would it make you feel better if I took a look at the application and pointed out a few places he’d stretched the truth?”

  “Absolutely.” Her entire face lit up. “That’s all I wanted from the start.”

  He wouldn’t throw his friend under the bus by revealing anything damning, but if he gave Josie something, maybe she’d stop riding his ass…and ride him reverse-cowgirl instead.

  Never hurt to dream.

  “Okay,” he said, suddenly aware of how close they were. Their hands were nearly brushing at their sides. A few more inches and they’d be chest to chest. “I’ll look at the papers you threw on my desk and let you know.”

  She paused, her gaze searching his face. “Thank you. You saved me another sleepless night.”

  Capture the moment.

  “Maybe you could spend one with me in the future.”

  And then, as she softly bit her lower lip, he bent down and caught her mouth. Only their lips touched, but a bomb went off through his whole body, spearing him with lust. She tasted like strawberries, sweet and juicy. Absolutely addicting. Hungry for more, he groaned as their mouths slid against each other. He tilted his head, determined to sample the recesses of her mouth.

  “Wait, wait, hold on,” she managed as her mouth moved over his. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Okay, okay, maybe we should.”

  He went in. She pushed back.

  “No, we should stop,” she said again. “This is crazy…don’t you think?”

  He pulled back as a groan ripped from the back of his throat. Steadying herself, she planted a hand against his chest, causing his heart to jump beneath her hand.

  “Crazy? No,” he said, catching his breath. “Asking for trouble? Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  “I don’t want to stop.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “But I don’t want to make this more complicated than it already is.”

  “Oh, we’re way past that now.”

  Two knocks echoed on the office door. Charity was both the best and the worst secretary on the planet.

  Adjusting the pitching in his pants, he said, “What do you need, Charity?”

  “Sir, Mrs. Boone called the main line to report that her husband just left the house. He should arrive at his destination in twenty minutes.”

  “Thank you,” he called out, and then scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I hate to end what we’ve got going here, but I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “I understand.” She nodded, her gaze trained on his lips. “But you haven’t had a chance to look over Mitch’s application yet. You said you’d tell me where he lied. It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

  “Now?” He almost laughed, but caught himself. “You want me to put my next job on hold to look over it now?”

  Wasn’t happening.

  “Why not?” She paused, searching his face. “Or I could come with you to save time. We could ride together to the couples painting after whatever it is you’re doing here.”

  He was barely refraining
from dragging her into his arms. Stuck in a car with her on stakeout might not be such a good idea. Her intoxicating scent would surround him and become a horribly welcome distraction. He had to focus to catch Mr. Boone in the act. Any time spent with Josie was counterproductive.

  “That’s not going to work,” he said, nodding despite his rejection. “I’d planned on being late to your paint night, and wouldn’t want you to miss out on something. But I can look the applications over while—”

  “I don’t need to be there on time,” she interjected. “It’s not like I’m running the event. I simply booked it and made sure the camera crews would be allowed in the winery.”

  Always back to the show that would cement Mitch and Carrie’s relationship.

  “The truth is,” he said, “when I’m on stakeout, I prefer to be alone.”

  “You’re going on a stakeout?” Her soft brown eyes went on high alert. “As in, a legit, hunt-down-the-perp type stakeout?”

  “There are no perps,” he said, forcing his tone flat. “I think you’ve watched too many CSIs or something. I’ll be in my car with a pair of binoculars and an iPad to make notes on. That’s it. Nothing exciting.”

  “Here’s the thing, Ryder.” She folded her arms over her chest and kinked her neck to the side. “The clock’s ticking down to my sister’s wedding, and I spent the entire night turning over every aspect of his application. I’d ask Mitch myself, but I doubt he’d tell me if you won’t. But you told me you’d look it over, and I’m going to follow you wherever I have to in order to get the answers I need. It might only take a few minutes, and then I can take a cab to the winery if need be.”

  She really didn’t take no for an answer, did she?

  “Who knows?” she added, smirking. “I might turn out to be an asset to your stakeout. My sister says I have excellent eyesight.”

  He couldn’t say no to her if he wanted to.

  And he had the feeling he never would.

  Chapter Five

  As Ryder parked across the street from a two-story Victorian-styled home near Golden Gate Park, Josie unfastened her seat belt and twisted so that she faced him.

  Did he know that he was total Magic Mike material? With his black slacks and impossibly broad shoulders hidden beneath a white business shirt, Josie had to wipe the drool from her mouth from the moment she burst into his office. From the way the shirt fell to his narrow waist, he was probably packing a set of washboard abs, too.

  Good Lord, she could barely keep her libido in check around him.

  And that kiss. Holy. Hot. Damn. She couldn’t think of anything else. Every time he spoke, she couldn’t help but study his mouth. Every word was somehow sensual, drawing her in, calling her closer.

  What had come over her? He was the one who could ruin her sister’s wedding and destroy the one chance she had to grow her business.

  They were not on the same team.

  Rather than ogle him any more, she scoped out the neighborhood. Nice homes. Clean streets with brick accents. Luxury cars in narrow driveways. The area was supreme. Southwest of the Golden Gate, tucked into a corner of the city called Outer Richmond. If she opened the car window and breathed in deeply, she could probably smell the sea breeze flowing in from a few blocks to the west.

  “So who are we scoping out?” she asked.

  Better to butter him up with mundane questions now. That way, when he was relaxed with their conversation, he’d reveal what Mitch was hiding.

  Fishing binoculars out of his bag, Ryder focused on a car at the end of the street and jotted down the license plate. “It’s private. I can’t exactly give details about this guy’s marriage problems.”

  “So it’s a guy we’re looking for? And his wife thinks he’s cheating?” She shot him a questioning glare, and received a frown in return. “Is this the mistress’s house? It’s pretty. Look at those columns in front.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but I’m not here to study the architecture of his home.”

  “His home? He’s cheating on his wife with a guy?”

  “No,” he said, and went back to his binocular search. This time, he focused on the high-arching windows of the house across the street. “From what I know, he’s not homosexual.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it,” Josie blurted, feeling her cheeks heat. “If that’s what makes him happy. It’s too bad he couldn’t have realized his sexual orientation before getting married, though. I feel bad for his wife.”

  Setting the binoculars on his lap, Ryder turned his attention to her. “He’s at his monthly poker night. One of his friends is hosting. That’s his house.”

  “Oh, got it.”

  As Ryder nodded and went back to his binoculars, she peered out the window into the night. The lights were on in the house, giving them an unobstructed view of a group of men playing poker near the windows.

  “One of the living room windows is open,” he mumbled to himself. “Mind if I crack your window?”

  She pressed the button to roll it down herself and strained to listen.

  Laughter bubbled out the window and into the night, but the voices were muffled.

  “Well, we can’t hear much from here,” she said as he continued to spy. As a guy near the window raised his hands over his head in victory, she squinted, trying to peer at his cards. “Looks like he just won.”

  “Three kings beats two pair every time.”

  “Those must be really great binoculars.” She craned her neck around to glance at him. In the shadows, his heavenly blue eyes turned the color of midnight. They were even more stunning than in the day. “How can you see anything from where you are? Aren’t you at the wrong angle?”

  “I could see his kings plain as day, and assumed he won against two pair,” he rambled quickly, his voice a dark rasp. “That’d be a great win. Must’ve been why he was so excited.”

  Was that a bead of sweat trickling down his temple? What reason would he have to be nervous?

  “Do you play poker?” he asked.

  “I used to play the old-school quarter games like acey-deucy and 3-5-7. But that was before Texas Hold’em took over the poker world. I used to have an uncanny sense for knowing when to go all-in and when to fold and run.”

  He eyed her skeptically, his gaze hovering on her lips. “You claim to have a strange sense for a lot of things, don’t you?”

  “I do. It’s how I’ve managed to set up as many couples as I have.” Pride streaked through her. “But what I don’t understand is why does this guy’s wife wants us to spy on him playing poker?”

  “Us?” As his voice went tight, Ryder dropped the binoculars into his bag. “Why don’t you hand over Mitch’s papers. I’ll look at them now.”

  Why’d he suddenly want to end their night so quickly?

  The part of her that fought for victory rejoiced at his concession. But the part that wanted Ryder felt snubbed.

  If he’d asked her to stay the night after this, she probably would’ve been on board. There was no way she’d be able to say no at this point. She hadn’t had sex in—oh God—had it really been two years? No wonder she was ready to jump Ryder’s bones in his office.

  But he clearly didn’t long to be around her the way that she did him. She hadn’t meant to be annoying or intrusive. It was just that she’d never been on a stakeout before. Countless television shows and movies had made them look like so much fun. From the moment he said the word “stakeout,” she’d been bursting with excitement.

  Pulling Mitch’s applications out of her purse, she handed them over. He scanned slowly. Flipped over the first page. Studied the second. Flipped that one over, and did the same. After reaching the bottom, he handed them back.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “The part about his family life is skewed.”

  “You have to give me more than that.”

  “He checked the box saying he wanted five kids and two dogs, when what he really wants is two kids and five dogs.”

&nbs
p; She shot him her best disbelieving glare. “And he told you this?”

  “Sure.”

  “When?” she fired. “In your last heart-to-heart? Why would Mitch tell you how many kids and dogs he wants? Never mind, it’s not important. What matters is that people change. Tastes change. What if he met Carrie who wanted something different, and that was okay as long as he had her?”

  Ryder fished his iPad out of his bag and started tapping something. “If you say tastes change and stick to that argument, it works both ways. What if the guy playing poker thought he wanted someone like his wife, a woman who had all the qualities he valued, until he met another woman who showed him something new? Could he throw up his hands and say his tastes changed? Those qualities weren’t important to him anymore?”

  “That’s—it’s not the same at all.” She felt tight. Wound up into knots. “The difference is that this guy is already married.”

  “It’s a piece of paper, Josie. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It’s a union built on trust, honesty, loyalty, and a commitment to be together forever.”

  He shrugged as if she’d asked him what he wanted for breakfast. “Not for everyone.”

  “Like you, I’m assuming?” She turned completely so that she faced him. “You really can’t see yourself ever settling down?”

  “No, I can’t,” he said, shifting his focus from the house to her. “Never thought that’d be an option for me, but since you’ve—”

  As his gaze trailed over her shoulder, his words died off.

  “What?” Her heart leaped into her throat. Had he been about to say since she came around and changed things? “What were you going to say?”

  “The bastard is cutting out early.”

  Nope, that wasn’t it.

  And just like that, the moment was gone.

  “Look. There he goes. Toward Golden Gate Park.” Ryder’s hand shot to the keys that lingered in the ignition. “We need to tail him.”

  The “we” word didn’t escape her, and she tingled all over.

  As he stared, she followed his line of sight. A short squatty fellow with dark hair and a bald spot walked beneath a glowing lamppost and continued his trek down the sidewalk.