What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

by Kristin Miller

  “Is that him?” she said, her voice low. “He could be a Danny DeVito look-alike.”

  “Hadn’t thought about it, but I guess so.” Ryder chuckled, pausing with his hand on the keys. “Wait—what is he doing?”

  “Hate to state the obvious, but it looks like he’s going for a walk.”

  “No, I meant it’s strange that he’s leaving his car behind.” Ducking below the windshield’s frame, he peered at the sky. He seemed to sniff the air, but that couldn’t be right. Must’ve been checking out something in the rearview mirror. “It’s going to rain. She must not live far from here.”

  “Maybe he needed fresh air.”

  Grabbing a coat from the backseat, Ryder shoved his arms inside. Zipped up to the collar. Yanked the hood over his head. “Do you always think everything is sunshine and rainbows?”

  “Better than doom and gloom.”

  “From my experience,” he said, his voice going dark, “doom and gloom is closer to reality than the former.”

  Sadness washed over her as his words resonated. If what he said was true, it was no wonder he didn’t want Mitch and Carrie to walk down the aisle. He must’ve been jealous of the happiness they shared. Their upcoming nuptials must’ve shone a spotlight on what was lacking in his own life.

  As thunder vibrated the air around them, his gaze raked her over. She heated through, her heart racing.

  “Didn’t you bring a coat?” he asked.

  “No. Didn’t think I’d need one.”

  “Not even a heavier sweater? This one doesn’t even—” He started to reach out for her, but took back his hand with a jolt. As if she were fire, and he was about to get burned. “There’s not enough fabric to cover up anything.”

  She glanced down. Her cream-colored sweater was patterned knit and see-through all over with a white tank built in underneath. She’d paired it with deep blue sailor pants with two adorable rows of buttons in front. It wasn’t the warmest thing in her closet, but definitely the cutest for the event at Bluxome tonight.

  “I would’ve worn my secret agent spy gear,” she teased, holding her hands palm up, “but it’s at the cleaners from my stakeout last night. Sorry about that.”

  He rolled his eyes as if he was irritated as all hell, but the hint of a smile curled his sexy lips.

  “Here. Hurry.” He took off his coat, threw it around her shoulders as she leaned forward, and then darted out of the car.

  As he charged around the hood, she nestled deeper into his jacket and was slammed with his masculine scent. It comforted her somehow, so she breathed it in again. And nearly missed sight of him jogging across the street.

  She exited as the bleep of the car door locks slammed into place behind her. Sprinting to catch up, she reached Ryder’s side and struggled to keep pace with his strides. He was eating up the pavement, but the suspect was still so far away.

  “How far back do you stay?” she called.

  “Shh.” He put up his hand. “Never know who can hear you, especially when the wind is blowing like this.”

  “You really think he can hear me?” She covered her laugh with her hand. “He must have the ears of a wolf.”

  He nearly stopped walking and turned to her. “What would make you say something like that?”

  “Don’t wolves have supersonic hearing? I thought I read that somewhere.”

  “I guess.” His attention returned to the suspect, who was now a dark speck on the sidewalk up ahead. “But I wouldn’t know.”

  “What do we do when we catch him?” she asked, tightening his coat around her.

  “We’re not going to catch him at all. We’re going to follow him until we know where he’s headed, make a note of the important details, and then head back to the car.” Lightning lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled quickly after, reverberating off the buildings flanking the narrow street. “And hopefully before the clouds open up. Can you pick it up in those things? Or did you manage to bring your secret agent spy shoes with you?”

  She glanced down at her glossy black heels as she hopped over a curb. They weren’t stiletto, but they were tall.

  “Are you kidding? These are my secret agent spy shoes.”

  As he muttered something that sounded like a disbelieving remark, she said, “Bet I could beat you to the next street.”

  He shook his head. “No way.”

  “I’ll make you a deal. If I win, you have to tell me what big bad secret Mitch is hiding once and for all.”

  He scoffed, making a loud coughing sound. “You can offer whatever deal you want, but it’s not happening.”

  There was something beyond the snoring, opera-hating, and kids-and-dogs switch-up. And Ryder knew what it was. But what kind of offer would tempt him enough to finally reveal what Mitch had been hiding?

  Offer to pick up his bill at the winery later? Not strong enough.

  Give him a discount on a setup from her company? Nuh-uh. The thought of Ryder being matched with someone didn’t sit right.

  But maybe…

  “I’ll take off my tank top,” she teased, hands on her hips. He may’ve been stubborn and closed-minded, but he was a thirty-something male. All he’d be able to see without her tank top would be the form of her breasts, anyway. Maybe her nipples if she was really cold. Other than that, it’d be nothing more than a tease. “For the next hour.”

  “As much as I’d like to see that, it’s not bold enough. You’d still be covered by your sweater.” Even though he poked fun at her offer, his light eyes sparkled with desire. “Even if you take off your tank top you’re not showing much.” A mischievous smile stretched over his face. “Unless…”

  The blood drained from her face. Taking off the tank top beneath her sweater was one thing, but if he wanted her completely nude, he’d have to come up with something else. She was flirty, and a little daring, but drew the line at slutbag.

  “…you take off your tank top for the paint night tonight.” His grin was so broad, the glow from the streetlights twinkled off his teeth. “Call it artistic expression. I’m sure the cameras will get a close-up.”

  Damn it, for the first time since she’d made the deal with Liza, she’d forgotten about the cameras.

  Pursing her lips together, Josie contemplated the offer. She would be covered by her sweater, even though it was thin. Better than being bare. And she still had his coat. She hadn’t said she’d give that back. May’ve been cheating, but whatever. He should’ve specified.

  “Done,” she said, shaking his hand. Her heartbeat sped as his hand enveloped hers. His touch was warm and gentle, yet firm as his fingers curled around her hand. “But prepare to lose.” If she weren’t careful, she’d lose her heart to him, too. “Ready? One…”

  Bumping him into the gutter, she took off. Her size eights struck the ground hard. She pumped her arms as the air punched out of her lungs. Picked up her pace. Light posts whizzed by. The corner was right there. Another few strides and she’d have him.

  “You call this fast?” Ryder said from beside her.

  She jumped, startled. He appeared out of nowhere. She hadn’t even heard him coming. His body moved, but didn’t seem to exert any effort. Was he walking?

  How was that possible?

  “That’s not fair,” she panted. “You’re cheating.”

  “You cheated first.”

  “But you’re—you’re not even…trying.”

  He wasn’t walking, but moved his arms as if he was. Maybe he was jogging. Sprinting? He was moving so fast, without a sweat, without a single hair out of place. And she was a mess. Disappointment soured her stomach as the street to end their race passed. Realization set in.

  She lost.

  He wouldn’t be revealing Mitch’s secret. Not tonight. No matter how much he teased about it, or started to let on that he would.

  Josie slowed to a stop, clinging to the coat that’d be her savior. Lungs tight, she bent over, wheezing.

  “That wasn’t fair. We didn’t start on time.
We should probably do that again.” She circled her finger in the air. “Don’t you agree?”

  “No way. That was a clean win,” Ryder said, hand on her back as she panted. “You better get ready for your close-up. Hope it’s not as chilly in the winery as it is out here. The place must have heaters. I’m sure you thoroughly checked it out.”

  She moaned, though it sounded more like a growl. He removed his hand, leaving her chilled, and then laughed for the next three blocks. When the air finally agreed to return to her lungs, and the blood pumped to her tingly extremities, she said, “Danny DeVito got away.”

  “No, he didn’t.” He pointed into the park across the street. “Look over there.”

  Where?

  Nobody could see through that park. It was nothing but shrubbery and shadow.

  “He’s sitting on the bench smoking a cigar. Cuban, from the scent of it.” Ryder put his hand out to stop her from walking ahead of him. The notion was gentle and protective, making her go all swoony inside. “Wait, he’s taking a phone call.”

  “How can you—”

  “Shh.” He slowed to a stop in the shadow of a giant elm tree. “Reservations for tomorrow night,” he mumbled to himself. “Bourbon & Branch. Eight o’clock.” He squinted as if he could see through the dark. “Come on, give me a name I can follow up on.”

  As he listened closely, she took a deep breath, struggling to pick up the scent of the cigar. Nothing. She strained, listening for the sounds of a distant voice. Again, nothing but her heartbeat.

  “Ryder,” she said, huddling into his coat as rain began to fall. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Slowly, he crept forward. “He ended the call, but he’s dialing again.” Seconds seeped by. “He’s meeting someone else tomorrow night, too. Can’t believe he’s lining them up. How many mistresses does this guy have?”

  No wonder he thought Mitch and Carrie’s marriage was doomed to fail. How many times had he hid in the shadows this way, watching a guy set up a date when his wife waited for him at home? How many times had his stepfather done the same thing to his mother? God, she felt sick. It was a terrible thing to witness, but would be soul-shattering to experience firsthand with a loved one.

  “He’s moving, and I need more information,” Ryder barked, picking up his stride as the clouds opened up. “I can’t follow him this way. The rain’s going to wash away his sc—it’s getting too difficult. I can do this faster without you at my side.”

  What did the rain washing away the city grime have to do with anything?

  His gaze shot to hers as he handed her the keys to his Charger. “I’m going to wait here until you walk back and get in my car. It’s a safe neighborhood, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, but I’ll be here just in case. I want you to go to the paint night, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Why wouldn’t I wait for you?” She felt her face crinkle in confusion. “I already told you I don’t mind being late.”

  “Stakeout’s over anyway, so you won’t miss much. I’m just going to check something out, and you can’t see me this way—doing this part of my job.” He averted his attention to the sky and then back to her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Then why shouldn’t I wait?”

  He folded his arms over his chest as rain cascaded down the hard lines of his face. “Trust me when I say it’s better this way. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Then don’t expect me to listen.”

  His lips pressed together until they went white. “You sure don’t like making things easy on me.”

  “Why would I do that?” She softened as her heart fluttered, damn it. “I don’t feel comfortable about this. How will you get there?”

  “I’ll take a cab.” He patted his back pocket as he nudged his chin at the Charger. “You know how to drive, right?”

  “Like an Earnhardt.” She made a psshing sound and pocketed his keys. “Can’t guarantee I’ll keep it under ninety.”

  Even though she fought to keep her tone light, worry ate at her insides. Something wasn’t right about the situation. Was the gloomy weather making her think something bad was going to happen? Or the way his face was dark and shadowed? Danny DeVito didn’t look like a mass murderer, but who knew really? If this were a movie, he’d be a vampire or a werewolf, luring them into the dark where he’d drink their blood and tear them to pieces.

  Okay, okay, she’d watched too many episodes of True Blood. But it was her favorite show. She’d downloaded every episode of every season, and she couldn’t stop watching.

  “Don’t worry,” Ryder said, as if he read her mind. “Everything will be fine.”

  Somehow, when she gazed into his eyes, she believed him. It was her heart, and the way it warmed when he was near, making her think everything really would turn out all right.

  “What are you going to do?” Warmth bloomed over her, even though the rain soaked through his coat. “Jump him or something?”

  “No—God, nothing like that. I’m a PI, not a thug.” He glanced up at the clouds again, and once his gaze settled on the moon, he looked down at her. “I don’t have time to explain any more, but trust me when I say you’ll be safe, all right? Now will you go?”

  “I guess.” But she didn’t want to leave him. Or walk back to the car in the dark. “If you insist.”

  “I really do.” He took her hand and stroked his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “I won’t be long.”

  His touch was magic, lighting a fire under her skin. It was electric, making her insides go all jittery. Every beat of her heart called to him. Her lips parted.

  Kiss me.

  They were so close, the rain falling between them. The kiss would be wet and so freaking hot.

  “Now go,” he said. As if he hadn’t felt a thing.

  “Fine.” Drenched between the legs, she turned and walked a few steps toward the direction of his Charger. “I’ll wait five minutes in the car in case you change your mind.”

  When she spun back, both Ryder and Danny DeVito were gone.

  “Ryder?”

  How’d he disappear so quickly? He’d been right there a second ago.

  As a jagged bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, a dash of something black darted from one shrub to another. Right near the bench where Danny DeVito had been sitting a few minutes before.

  It was either the biggest dog she’d ever seen, or a wolf. No, couldn’t have been. What would a wolf be doing in the park? She hadn’t heard of any animals escaping from the city zoo. Damn if it didn’t look like one, though. Raised back. Huge legs. Hunched over, sniffing the ground.

  Shielding her eyes from the rain, Josie peered through the park.

  There it was again.

  Leaping into the bushes. Definitely a wolf.

  What the hell?

  She backpedaled, stumbling over her own feet as her heart hiccuped in her chest.

  “I hope you see that thing, Ryder,” she whispered, backing down the sidewalk. “Whatever it is, it’s huge.”

  As his name slipped past her lips, the giant wolf dog peeked its head out of the shrubs. It must’ve thought it was still cloaked by the shadows of the bush. Still as stone, it stared at her with blazing blue eyes.

  Eyes that were as icy blue as Ryder’s.

  “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not the stupid damsel in distress that goes running into the park to warn you. Nope. That chick gets eaten like a wolf biscuit.” She took off running toward the car. “You’re on your own.”

  Chapter Six

  The second Josie turned around, Ryder bolted around the corner and into the first row of bushes near the entrance to the park. Stripping down, he flung his clothes behind him and dropped to all fours. Balling all the energy into a knot in the pit of his stomach, he pushed outward. Skin gave way to fur that blanketed his body in a shiny dark coat. His muscles elongated, pulsing with strength and the promise of speed. Fangs dropped from his mouth.

  With one last solid sh
ake, the shift was complete.

  As lightning struck nearby, quickly followed by the roll of thunder, he howled. Let his cry match the vibration in the air. And then he stopped, rejuvenated.

  It’d been too long since he’d shifted. For the last six months, he’d denied himself the urge. If he wanted to catch Mr. Boone, though, the drought ended tonight.

  Giving his legs a good, long stretch, he elongated his neck and shook. Damn, it felt good. He stomped through the grass, feeling the wet blades slide between the pads of his paws. The moon radiated shifting energy through him, rocketed through his veins, and gave him more strength than he could dream of.

  He sniffed, easily detecting Mr. Boone’s scent. It was pungent and spicy, tickling his nose. He sneezed and then scrubbed his nose through the dirt.

  How’d a man who smelled so bad manage to land so many mistresses?

  After checking to make sure the coast was clear, he bounded out of the bush and into the next one. This shrub was longer and flanked the sidewalk where Mr. Boone had just walked. Ducking beneath branches slick with rain, he weaved his way along the path, keeping an eye on the cheater.

  It was so much easier to follow him in this form. Josie didn’t help the situation, either. Her scent consumed him, distracting him from Mr. Boone’s. And although he loved to hear the crazy things that came out of her mouth, every conversation was a sidetrack from his assignment.

  Dragged back to the task at hand, Ryder watched as Mr. Boone turned sharply, veering toward the outer corner of the park. If he left and walked back into the city, Ryder would have to track back to get his clothes. Couldn’t exactly shift back and strut into the city in his birthday suit.

  He glanced behind him.

  The clothes weren’t that far away, but it’d mean he would have to take his eyes off the subject for a few minutes. With the rain washing away his scent, Ryder might not be able to pick it up again.

  Mr. Boone exited the park, his pace slowing as he crossed the street.

  Where the devil was he going?

  As the cheater window-shopped in a bargain store on the corner, Ryder decided that he’d watch him as far as he could, then double back and wait for him to pass through the park again. He had to come back for his car sooner or later.