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What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

Page 13

by Kristin Miller


  Josie’s heart wrenched. “I’ll tell her it’s over.”

  “You’d do that?”

  Josie nodded. And then shoved one last bobby pin in place. An atomic bomb couldn’t knock Carrie’s hair out now. “I’d do anything to make you happy. I’d close down my entire business if I thought you were putting yourself in a grave situation. That’s not at all what I intended.”

  “No one is saying it was.” Carrie stood, facing Liza. “Did you get all this?”

  And Liza nodded.

  “Good.” Carrie stood abruptly. “Now I have a favor to ask you. Well, two, actually.”

  “Anything.” Josie followed Carrie to the door.

  “One, I want you to give Ryder a break,” Carrie said, hand to handle. “He and Mitch are like brothers, and a very long time ago, Ryder swore to look out for Mitch. To protect him like family. That’s all Ryder was doing. No matter how much you demanded him to tell you what was going on, it wasn’t his secret to tell. The more I’ve learned about him the last few days, the more I’ve come to respect him. He’s not such a bad guy—if you’d give him a chance to prove it.”

  “He should’ve told me about this.” Josie felt sick. Weak in the knees. “He should’ve said something before I started to fall for him.”

  “You love him?” Carrie spun, her voice full of excitement. “I didn’t know it’d gotten that far.”

  “It hasn’t, exactly,” Josie said. “but he’s unlike any guy I’ve ever known. He makes me feel…loved.”

  Carrie clapped her hands together. “This is perfect.”

  “No, Carrie, it’s not. Unlike Mitch, who wants a huge family and a house in the valley, Ryder wants neither of those things.” Reality had never been bleaker. “You were right about him from the start. He’s a womanizer who wants to play the field. He doesn’t want to settle down like I do. Not now, not ever. He’s always been clear about what he’s wanted, just as I’ve been.” Her stomach sank. “I thought I could handle something carefree and physical only, but I can’t. I’ll always want more with him. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get involved with a guy like that in the first place.”

  “If it’s one thing I’ve learned from all this,” Carrie said, “it’s that you can’t choose who you love. Look at me. I’m about to become the future Mrs. Karaoke, proud owner of a big ole hairy dog.”

  And they laughed.

  Maybe everything would turn out all right.

  If there were couples—non-shifters and shifters alike—who were hooking up and staying together, why shouldn’t Carrie marry Mitch? He claimed to love her, and she him. He said he was her fated mate—the one who would love her and cherish her forever. The thought was romantic.

  On the other hand, if he hurt her, if he harmed one hair on her head, Josie would know where to direct the police. Maybe that little tidbit of information would go in her maid of honor speech. Just in case.

  “What’s the second favor?” Josie asked as Carrie opened the door to the dining room.

  “Oh, thank God you said something. I almost forgot again.” She jumped, turning back to Josie. “Remember when I told you about the vendor who called yesterday? It was Decadent and Delicious.”

  “The wedding cake place?”

  Carrie nodded nervously. “Apparently the baker who was assigned to our cake skipped out of town, leaving a ton of cakes unfinished. He hadn’t even started ours, and they say the other bakers on staff don’t have the time to finish one by tomorrow. They refunded our money, but we’re out a cake.”

  Worry washed over her. “What are you going to do?”

  “Mitch found a small bakery south of Market who said they’d bake us a cake for an obscene amount of money, but they need me to come in tonight and choose a flavor and topper.”

  “But you have the rehearsal. You can’t miss it.” One look at Carrie’s hopeful glare, and Josie picked up what her sister was putting down. “So you want me to go.”

  “Would you?” Carrie made praying hands. “Please? You don’t need to be here for the rehearsal anyway. All you do is walk a straight line and stand to the left.”

  Josie didn’t have to think long. “Of course I’ll go.”

  “It’s not that far, so if you hurry, you might be able to make it back for the dinner.”

  “Text me the address.”

  “Thank you.” Carrie blew out a relieved breath. “So much.”

  “I’m the maid of honor,” Josie said with a shrug. “It’s my job to make sure everything’s perfect behind the scenes, so you can focus on what you’re doing here. Remember, today and tomorrow are about you, and making sure you know what the hell you’re doing.”

  “I do.”

  “All right.” Josie cracked a grin. “Practice those words with your groom, and I’ll go save your cake.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  This was not what she’d had in mind when she’d agreed to fix Carrie’s cake situation. From the moment she’d stepped off the Hornblower, Ryder had been glued to her side.

  Keep your distance. Don’t get close. He’ll only break your heart.

  To keep her strength up, Josie repeated the lines over and over to herself all the way there. Bangin’ Bakery wasn’t far—as her sister had said—but the ride took forever with Ryder’s deliciously spicy scent swirling through the cab of his car.

  She might’ve set the world record for breath holding.

  She simply needed space, to slow things down, think things through, and breathe.

  After Ryder parked in front of the small bakery, Josie quickly exited the car and met him on the sidewalk. Jerking open the door, she stepped inside the sweet-smelling shop. Bright light shone down from the ceiling, illuminating refrigerated storage units filled with cupcakes and sample wedding tiers. Relieved, she breathed in deeply; Ryder’s scent wouldn’t be able to drive her mad in here.

  He was at her side in a heart flicker as a forty-something man emerged from the back. He was well over six feet six, with thick fingers and an abnormally square jaw. He wore black pants dusted in flour, a white T-shirt, and—she bit back a laugh—a pale blue apron printed with cupcakes.

  “How can I help you?” the baker said, drying his hands on the dainty apron stretched around his waist.

  “I’m here for my sister, Carrie Cole. I believe you were going to start working on her cake and needed someone to check off a few boxes for you?”

  “Yeah, all right. I’m Axel, the owner.”

  Of course he was.

  Axel grinned wide, showing a few missing teeth in back, and led them to a cake-topper display against the far wall. “Go ahead and pick one of these first. I’m going to head back and get the sample cakes ready. Won’t take long. Under the circumstances there are only a few flavors available.”

  “All right.”

  As he disappeared behind a half wall, Ryder leaned in close. “Ten bucks says the baker has a body stashed in the freezer next to the buttercream.”

  “Sadly, I can’t take that bet.” Josie set her sights on the dozen cake toppers displayed. “Because I absolutely agree with you. I’m not sure why Carrie picked this place. It’s sketchy.”

  “With something so last-minute, there’s not time to be picky.”

  Ryder plucked a dark-haired bridal topper from the shelf, along with a tall, blond-haired groom. “I’ve always thought these were so strange. Little clones of the bride and groom standing on a pile of sugar.”

  “Not all of them are standing.” Josie pointed to a topper where the bride was dragging the groom to the altar. “Look at that one.”

  He laughed. “That’s probably a more accurate depiction of the weddings I’ve been involved in.”

  Sighing, Josie shook her head. His words were another reminder of the hesitation—no, the hatred—he harbored toward weddings.

  Keep your distance. Don’t get close. He’ll only break your heart.

  “Some people have senses of humor,” she retorted, flicking a topper with the groom o
n his knees, begging forgiveness. “Some might think this is accurate, too.”

  “Touché,” he said, replacing the tiny groom in his hand. “Don’t Carrie and Mitch already have one of these, though—the one they picked before? Couldn’t they use it for this cake?”

  Josie shook her head. “Carrie had originally wanted two hearts made from blown sugar to top the cake. Under the circumstances, this baker said he wouldn’t have time for that. He said to kiss.”

  Ryder fumbled with the bride in his hand, caught her, and replaced her on the shelf. “Excuse me?”

  “Kiss.” Josie picked up two silver entwined hearts and eyed them carefully. “K. I. S. S. As in, keep it simple, stupid.”

  “Oh. Right.” Ryder nodded slowly. “On the topic of keeping it simple, I wanted to apologize for the ways things went down last night. I’m truly sorry. That wasn’t what I had in mind when I insisted Mitch tell your sister.”

  Choosing the tangled-heart cake topper, she took a seat at a small table near the front windows.

  He slid into the seat across from her, leaned over the table, and clasped his hands in front of him. “Mitch should’ve told your sister another time. It would’ve been more appropriate to share that information when it was only the two of them.”

  She gawked. “I deserved to know what was going on just as much as Carrie.”

  Especially since they had something going on, too. Or, she corrected mentally, at least she thought they had.

  Keep your distance.

  His gaze penetrated deep, heating her through. “Of course you had a right to know.”

  “And now she’s seriously considering”—Josie lowered her voice to a whisper—“investing in fur once a month.”

  Ryder grinned brightly, stopping her heart. “Is she really? Mitch is going to flip. Being with your sister is the only thing he’s wanted since the first moment he met her.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” Her voice ticked higher on the freak-out scale. “She wants to turn into what you are.”

  Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair. “It’s not so bad. The pack has an excellent support system, and Mitch will help her through it. There’s a sort of underground community in the city—a pack of born and turned wolves, who support one another in business and shifting matters. We’re more common than you think, though we live under the radar.”

  “All of this is so bizarre.” Planting her elbows on the table, Josie dropped her head into her hands and scrubbed her face. “I feel like someone yanked back Oz’s curtain.”

  How was it possible that she was sitting across from a werewolf, having a perfectly rational conversation? She looked up and met his eyes. The gleam in them was understanding. Surprisingly gentle.

  Don’t get close.

  Although she hadn’t thought about it until this moment, a memory of something Mitch had said the other night echoed through her head.

  “Mitch said he and Carrie were fated to be together.” She twirled the cake topper in her fingers. “What did he mean by that?”

  Ryder opened his mouth to answer, but clamped it shut when Axel swept into the room carrying a large plate teeming with cake samples. Setting it in front of them, he said, “The ones on the right are chocolate with chocolate icing, the left are butterscotch with vanilla icing, and the center row is red velvet.”

  “Thank you,” Ryder said with a dismissive nod. “We’ll let you know.”

  “Take your time.” Axel shot him an edgy glare as he turned and walked away. But as he went, he mumbled, “It’s not like I don’t have a three-tier cake to bake and deliver by tomorrow night to save your ass.”

  Josie squelched a laugh and shook her head. “I see why Carrie wanted me to come and check these out in person.”

  “She trusts you.” Ryder shoved a chocolate into his mouth and chomped away. “Damn, the ogre can cook.” Swiping a napkin over his mouth, he said, “They’re called Luminaries, by the way.”

  “The chocolate ones?” Frowning, she picked up a moist square. “How do you know?”

  He grinned from the side of his mouth. “Not the cake, the fated mates.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  To keep him talking, she bit into the chocolate one and took her time chewing. As the satin-like chocolate glaze hit her taste buds, she moaned and then covered her mouth with her hand. It wasn’t too sweet, but it was lush and moist, and—oh God—the best thing she’d ever tasted outside of Ryder’s lips.

  He shifted in his seat as if he was suddenly uncomfortable. “Werewolves have Luminaries—fated mates,” he rattled without meeting her eyes, “who are the ones destined to be with them for a thousand years. If they go through the bonding process and extend their lives, that is.” He sampled the butterscotch. His eyebrows hitched as he said, “Mitch found his fated mate in Carrie. That’s what he meant.”

  “Have you found yours?” The question flew from her mouth before she could catch it. “I’m sorry,” she said, fumbling for another piece of cake. “That was none of my business.”

  But damn if she wasn’t aching to know.

  “You…” he said, and paused, eyeing her mouth.

  She went tense. Rigid. Stopped chewing and stared back. Could he really have meant that she—

  “…have frosting on your bottom lip.”

  “Oh God.” She’d been stupid to automatically assume she was his fated mate. Swiping a napkin over her mouth, she lowered her gaze to the plate. An embarrassed blush warmed her cheeks. Change the subject. “So my sister’s going to live a thousand years?”

  “You still didn’t get it,” he said. “Here, let me.”

  Reaching over, Ryder gently stroked the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. She shivered as he hesitated, his heated gaze catching hers before he removed his hand. Her lip tingled where he’d touched her. Molten heat bloomed down her neck and through her chest.

  Screw staying away, keeping distance, or being heartbroken.

  Ryder could probably burn her, but getting close to the fire felt so damn good.

  “Her life will extend if she goes through the bonding ceremony with him.” He sucked traces of lingering chocolate off his thumb, rendering her speechless. “But that’s up to her.”

  Confusion pricked her. Probably had something to do with the majorly hot distraction across the table who wouldn’t stop sucking frosting off his fingers. Whatever the reason, more questions arose in her head than answers.

  “Mitch said he was attacked, and that’s how he was turned into a wolf, but my sister can choose? How does that work?”

  Ryder’s piercing blue eyes twinkled with something that resembled hopefulness. But what would he have to be hopeful about?

  “Some shifters are born to wolf parents and can turn at whim, although the urge is usually greatest during times of emotional excitement. Others, like Mitch and me, were attacked in the street. Well, for me, it was the back alley of a bar three years ago.”

  Her heart softened as he spoke. He must’ve been terrified. “That’s terrible. I had no idea.”

  “How could you?” His words were sharp, but his voice was solemn. “We were bitten on two pulse points by a rogue wolf. That’s what started the transition that changed our lives forever. The process isn’t always painful—in fact, I’ve heard it can be erotic for lovers during the bonding ceremony…”

  Erotic? She was all ears, elbows down on the table.

  “…but for us, it was awful. Probably one of the most traumatic experiences of our lives.”

  She ached for him, for the pain he must’ve gone through. “You said a ‘rogue’ changed you? What does that word mean if you’re a wolf?”

  “One who refuses to follow the wolf pack’s rules. Thanks to the city’s new Alpha, the numbers of rogues are near zero.” He spoke casually. As if he were talking about their own state government. “The threat is nearly gone now, and you’re with me, so you don’t have to worry.”

  Her stomach tumbled. “I’m with you?”
/>   “For now, anyway.” Leaning forward slowly, he slid his hands across the table. “You have to understand, I didn’t want to tell you about what I was because I thought you were better off not knowing about any of this. You could go on living your life—”

  “Blissfully ignorant?” she interrupted.

  “Safe. You’d be protected by that ignorance.” He shoved a red velvet cake into his mouth. “If you didn’t know about werewolves, you wouldn’t be brought into this crazy life of mine. It’s only been three years, and I still struggle with what I am. Mitch has a better handle on things than I do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve had problems controlling my anger in the past.” He stared at the cakes, giving them all his attention, as if he couldn’t look her in the eye. “It’s the reason we can never be together the way you want.”

  She squinted, narrowing her eyes at him. “I don’t understand. What problems?”

  He stiffened, dropping the cake he’d picked up. “Before we were attacked by the rogues, I’d been dating a woman for about a year. Things were getting serious, at least on my end.”

  Josie leaned back as jealousy trickled into her chest.

  “I hadn’t shifted yet, but the phase of the full moon had just started, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.” His gaze flickered up to hers, and he held it there. “I came home from work one day and caught her in bed with her boss.”

  “Oh my God,” she breathed.

  He nodded slowly. “I lost it. I shifted for the first time, and my worst fears came alive. I became a monster in her eyes…something I can never forget.”

  He paused, and she let the silence linger between them. There were no words to express the maelstrom of emotions plaguing her. But surprisingly, fear was nowhere in her head or heart.

  “I tried to date again after that,” he said, “but each time I shifted I was terrified of becoming the monster again, of them seeing the real me.”

  “Did you…hurt anyone?”

  “God, no, Josie.” He leaned across the table, his gaze burning deep. “Nothing like that. I could never hurt her, even if she cheated a thousand times. But it wasn’t even about that. I was a raging, snarling beast. I’ve never forgotten that feeling…and never want to feel it again.”

 

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