What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

by Kristin Miller

  “Hello?” She sounded hoarse. Did she eat gravel for dinner last night?

  “Josie?” the voice on the other end said. “This is Liza, from the Channel 10 news crew.”

  “Liza?” She couldn’t shake the dream. That wolf. Ryder. “What time is it?” She hadn’t meant to ask it aloud.

  “Nearly four in the afternoon.”

  “Not possible.” Scrubbing her hands over her eyes, Josie checked the clock. She fell back onto her pillow, her arm draping over her forehead. “Damn it. I’m sorry I didn’t call you to cancel. You must be furious.”

  “Cancel?” Liza’s voice was much too chipper. “Cancel what, exactly?”

  “This weekend. The rehearsal dinner. The wedding.” Josie sighed heavily as if the carpet that had held all of her dreams was ripped right from beneath her. “Someone should’ve called you. I’m sorry. Carrie and Mitch are postponing the wedding.” Or canceling. Who knew what would happen in time? “I’m afraid there won’t be a reason to host a special on my company.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Liza said, pausing. “Carrie and Mitch are here.”

  Confusion stabbed needles through Josie’s brain. “Here where?”

  “At Pier 3. We’re getting ready to board the Hornblower yacht.”

  “What?”

  Liza cleared her throat. “You said we were supposed to meet at Pier 3 at four o’clock, correct? To film the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner? Everyone is here except for you.”

  “Everyone?” Josie’s mind went blank. “Mitch and Carrie are there, ready to board, too?”

  Was it possible the whole thing had been a terrible dream? Could she have imagined all the werewolf drama at Jolly Roger’s?

  Someone must have slipped something in my drink.

  “Liza, I need to ask you something.” Josie tripped getting out of bed and stumbled to her closet. “And I need you to answer honestly.”

  “Well, I am a journalist,” Liza crooned. “I report the truth as it’s relayed to me.”

  As she tossed a simple black strapless dress out of her closet, she said, “Do Carrie and Mitch look happy?”

  If it wasn’t a dream, and Mitch really had revealed himself as a werewolf, there would be no way they’d be waiting to dock the Hornblower.

  “They look blissful to me.” Liza mumbled something to the cameraman. “If you want me to really scrutinize them, they do seem a little tired. When they first arrived, Mitch had dark rings under his eyes. And Carrie’s hair didn’t appear to be freshly washed, or styled. I called a stylist over to work on them, and now they look fresh enough to pose for a magazine shoot. Other than that, they’re great. Any reason to believe they wouldn’t be?”

  Yeah, the fact that last night, Carrie had said she’d wanted time to think things over, to wrap her mind around what Mitch had said. When the cab had dropped her off at her apartment in the Mission, Carrie had said she was going to put her cell on silent and curl up in bed.

  Had everything really been a figment of her imagination?

  The memories of the dream were extremely detailed, though, which was abnormal. She could recall nearly every word, every surge of anger as Ryder unveiled the truth about his nature.

  “No,” Josie fired, tossing her pajamas to the floor and stepping into the dress. “If they’re at the dock, waiting for the yacht to leave, I suspect they’re happy…as they always are. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  As she yanked the dress down over her hips, Josie ran into the bathroom, put the phone on speaker, and wrestled her hair into a loose ponytail.

  “If everything’s on track then,” Liza said, “I’ll tell Carrie you’re on your way.”

  “Wait—is Ryder there?”

  “He showed up late, but he’s here.”

  Her throat dried as images of the wolf from her dreams came to her. “How does he look?”

  Liza gasped as the yacht blasted its horn. “Frustrated. And he’s been asking for you for an hour.”

  Her stomach sank. She didn’t want to see Ryder. If the werewolf thing wasn’t a dream—if he and his friend really were werewolves—he’d hid the truth from her and put them in danger. He should’ve said what he was before he made out with her. Twice.

  “Tell Carrie not to leave without me,” Josie said, and hung up the call.

  …

  After Liza announced that Josie would be there shortly—and not to leave without her—Ryder’s stomach had been in knots. She’d tortured him all night. Plagued his dreams. It was the craziest thing, but he’d dreamed they were back in Golden Gate Park. Only instead of leaving, she came closer. Called him out of the bushes. And she’d been completely at ease with him being a wolf.

  She’d seen him for what he was and accepted him.

  He’d radiated warmth as he held her in his arms. And when he confessed that he wanted to hold her forever, he’d never felt happier. Everything he’d ever wanted had been within reach. If only he’d take the leap and go for it. When he’d proclaimed his love for Josie, her reaction had hollowed him. His heart had clenched and then eased, relaxing into a rhythm that lulled him into a trance. It made him want to give Josie more. All of him. Every last breath in his lungs if it meant he could make her happy.

  As he paced the lot a hundredth time, a taxi pulled into the lot and circled around. It came to stop in front of the docked yacht, and without waiting a beat, Josie exited. She’d pulled her hair back so that it emphasized the angelic features of her face, and wore a tight black dress that hugged her curves.

  “Hey,” he’d tried to say, but couldn’t catch is breath. She was stunning. Effortlessly so. “Josie.”

  Either she didn’t hear him, or didn’t care to see him. Charging up the ramp, she ran ahead.

  Don’t let her get away.

  He strode behind her, right as the pier workers readied to close the rail gate.

  “Josie,” he called out, following her down the yacht’s deck.

  She finally stopped, moments before going inside to join the rest of the party. “Hey, Ryder.”

  He could almost read the indecision on her face. She must not have known what else to say.

  “I had a dream about you last night,” he blurted. “In the park.”

  Her honey-brown eyes studied his face. “What?”

  “I had a dream about us. It felt like the stakeout when we followed Mr. Boone. You saw me…in wolf form.”

  “What happened?” Swallowing hard, she dropped her gaze to the wood-planked deck. “What did I say?”

  “You said you’d be mine…for all eternity.”

  What she’d said last night resonated deep within him—her voice still sang through his ears.

  “That’s not possible.” She spoke the words quietly, as if she had to fight for the air to speak them. As she looked up at him, her cheeks paled, and her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “I had that dream. The same one.”

  “Really?” Shock pummeled his system, chilling him instantly. He’d heard of Luminaries sharing thoughts and dreams, but hadn’t fully realized that their connection would never go away. “Josie, can we go somewhere to talk, away from the cameras? I wouldn’t want anyone to hear about…what I am.”

  Her gaze searched the room beyond the glass, where half a dozen cameras had been set up to film the rehearsal.

  “You mean you really are a—you know?” Her lips went white as she sucked the bottom one into her mouth. Even when she was confused and afraid, she was still irresistible. “I didn’t think…I mean, I thought maybe it might’ve been part of the dream. That can’t be real.”

  “Oh, it is.” Using his heightened senses, he picked up surges of fright. He took a few steps back to give her space. “Your sister was able to come around, so I’m sure with time, you’ll be able to do the same and accept Mitch as your brother-in-law.”

  “Wait—what?” She pinched her eyes closed and shook her head. When she opened them again, confusion burned in their depths. “Carrie knows? As
in, she knows-knows? She didn’t think it was a stupid dream like I did?”

  “No, she’s ready to give her life to Mitch—the werewolf part of him and all.” Sweat trickled down his temple. “If you would give me a few seconds to explain, I could clarify a few things that might put you more at ease.”

  “Now’s not the time, Ryder.”

  “It’s never the time.” He took her hand and brushed his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “Listen, you can hate me all you want, but your sister loves Mitch, and he truly is a great guy. The sooner you can understand that, the better it’ll be for them.”

  How’d things flip so easily? Suddenly she was the one desperate to break them up, and he was the one fighting to keep them together?

  “Wait here,” she said, slowly pulling her hand from his. “I’m going inside to make sure my sister is all right. We might be able to sneak in a few minutes after that, but I don’t think it’s going to change anything.”

  As she spun on her heel and disappeared inside the dining hall, Ryder blew out a rattled breath.

  But everything had already changed.

  Their dreams had made sure of that.

  They were destined by fate. No matter how much he tried to stay away from her, she’d still be a part of him. Forever linked to his soul. He’d never be free from her. She was his. Eternally. She’d said it herself, and his heart hadn’t forgotten, not even when he awoke from the dream.

  Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to talk about his wolf form. How could she possibly view him the same way, in the harsh light of day? If he took the chance and shifted, and she screamed or fled, it’d break him.

  But as he thought about pushing her away, his stomach turned. She’d find someone else eventually. It was inevitable, and he couldn’t deal with that reality, either.

  He couldn’t promise her a future, yet he couldn’t live without her.

  Talk about issues.

  The next few minutes he spent with Josie Cole were going to be the most important in his life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Josie dragged her sister toward a mini suite sectioned off at the front of the boat. It appeared to be a captain’s quarters, with wood paneling, a twin bed, and a small dresser. And judging from the full-length mirror set up in the corner, the Hornblower event team must have planned to use it as a changing room for the bridal party.

  Liza and one eager-looking cameraman followed them toward the suite.

  “No,” Josie said, stopping them at the door. “This is between me and my sister. I need a few minutes.”

  “Let them come in.”

  Josie spun. “Are you sure? There might be some topics to discuss that certain people shouldn’t hear.”

  “It’ll be fine.” Carrie yanked up the halter top of her canary-yellow dress. “Trust me.”

  “But this is going to be recorded.” Anxiety knotted in Josie’s stomach. “I don’t think it’s such—”

  “I said it’s fine,” Carrie interjected, waving in the crew. Once inside, she turned her attention to her image in the full-length mirror. “Now you have to make it quick, because we’ve got a rehearsal to run on schedule, and a dinner being served after that.”

  “Do you mind if we film this?” Liza asked, pointing the camera at Carrie’s gorgeous reflection. “We’re going to edit out a few parts, but certain images—like this one with your back—will be great for the final piece. We’ll do a split shot with you getting ready now, and then doing the same thing in your gown tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’ll be gorgeous.” Carrie turned, grinning, giving Liza a full view of her open-back dress. “Go ahead, Josie. I’m listening.”

  Yeah. Like she could talk about what was really bothering her when the camera was trained on them.

  She’d go down in history as the crazy matchmaking lady from Sausalito—the one who actually thought werewolves existed. Who would believe her? She’d seen it happen with her own eyes and barely believed it herself.

  No, this was something that had to be discussed in private. Or delicately.

  “How’d you sleep last night?” Josie moved toward the dresser, where Carrie had spread out her makeup bag. Pulling out a handful of bobby pins, she turned to her sister and slid in the first one. “I was worried about you.”

  “I spent the night with Mitch. We talked all night long.” Carrie smiled for Liza’s close-up. “It was so romantic.”

  “I bet it was,” Josie gritted, sliding in another pin. “Did you happen to talk about what would happen with the dog?”

  “What dog?”

  “Mitch has a German shepherd and husky mix from what Ryder tells me.” Josie shoved one pin in her mouth and squeezed another into Carrie’s updo. “I thought you didn’t like…big dogs.”

  She could almost feel the camera lens train on them.

  “I love—like dogs of all shapes and sizes.” Carrie cleared her throat. “Especially if Mitch owns it.”

  Or Mitch was the big dog.

  “And you don’t care about the shedding?” Josie fired. “It’ll get all over your couch.”

  Carrie shot her an incredulous glance through the mirror, and her lips went tight. “No, I don’t mind the shedding.”

  “What about the drooling? I hear big dogs drool.”

  “Nope. Don’t mind.”

  “And the claws?”

  “No.”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  That one got Liza’s attention. She looked up from whatever she’d been scrawling on her notepad and whispered something to the cameraman.

  Carrie seemed to go tense from her shoulders down her spine. She really did have a nicely toned back. No wonder the cameraman had been focused there.

  “I’m not scared about a thing. Not the dog Mitch owns, or any others that might be on his block.” Carrie nailed Josie with a glare in the mirror. “I love him. And he’ll protect me.”

  What was Carrie thinking?

  Everyone had heard the quotes about love knowing no bounds, but come on. There had to be some kind of limit. Falling in love with and marrying a werewolf? It was too far-fetched, not to mention unsafe.

  “Are you sure you don’t want more time to think about it?” Josie pushed, squeezing between Carrie and the mirror. “You guys have only known each other two months. And you just found out about his dog. Shouldn’t you, maybe, I don’t know, meet the dog before you move in?”

  “That’s true,” Liza interrupted, checking her nails. “Dogs are protective creatures. They could get possessive when it comes to sharing their owner.”

  “See?” Josie beamed. “You should meet the dog first.”

  “I have.”

  “Last night in the alley doesn’t count.”

  “I’m not talking about the alley.” She shrugged when Josie stared. “Last night, when he came over, we talked, and he shifted—showed me his dog again. In private, where I could get really close to him. I’ll admit I was scared at first, but he talked me through it. His fur is soft, and his eyes are gentle. I don’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

  “I hear huskies have soft fur.” Liza flicked something from beneath her pointer fingernail. “And he probably got the soft eyes from the shepherd side of him.”

  Josie rolled her eyes as Carrie continued on.

  “I think, in time”—her gaze turned from Josie to Liza—“I might want a dog of my own. For me.”

  “But why would you—”

  Josie cut herself short. Carrie wasn’t talking about getting a dog for herself. She was talking about becoming a dog—a wolf—like Mitch.

  Hell. No.

  Screw the camera special, the television time with Martha Silverstone. Forget the couples she’d match and the money she’d make.

  Her sister could not, and would not, even think about being bitten and turned into a werewolf—if that was even how it happened—all for love.

  “Carrie, you can’t. You’re the only family I have left.” Desperation screamed through her ve
ins as she grabbed her sister’s hands. “You’re not thinking this through. It’s too soon. No one will blame you if you say you feel rushed into this and need to take some time to think.”

  “But I don’t,” Carrie said simply. “I don’t need any more time to think than I’ve already taken. I love every part of him. I can finally say I’m proud to become Mrs. Carrie Oakey.”

  Liza and the cameraman snorted at the meshing of her future name.

  Josie ignored them. “But you don’t even know him.”

  “Of course I know him,” Carrie said into a laugh.

  “But you don’t.” Ignoring the cameras, Josie started counting off using her fingers. “He lied on the matchmaking application. Not only does he hate the opera and snore in his sleep, but he doesn’t want five kids and two dogs. What he really wants is two kids and five dogs. Isn’t that important to you?”

  Liza huffed. “So get another few dogs to play with the husky. Problem solved.”

  Josie pleaded through her gaze. Her sister blinked innocently, clearly not getting the message. “Carrie…you can’t go through with this.”

  “Josie,” her sister said, taking her hands and rubbing the knuckles. “You match people together all the time. You have a sense for knowing who belongs together and who doesn’t. You’ve never had a misstep. Never had a couple divorce. You weren’t off the mark with us. Even after everything I’ve learned about Mitch the last two months—dog issues and all—I love him more than anything. You can relax.”

  “But I have made a mistake.” Josie’s heart jerked to a stop and then restarted in a desperately erratic rhythm. “I was going to pair a man with his ex.”

  “Really?” Liza piped up. “That’s strange.”

  Josie nodded. “I paired the two without realizing it. Ryder was there. He caught the slip. So you see, Carrie? I can’t be trusted to know what’s best for anyone, and this whole dog situation is way out of left field. No one could have expected that. You can’t go through with it.”

  “What about the news special?” Carrie tweaked a few pins in her hair and reached for a few others. “What are you going to say to Martha Silverstone?”