“The harsh part is it wouldn’t be the wrong idea. I’m getting ready to go wolfman in an urban setting, and it won’t be pretty or polite.” He walked toward the passenger side of the truck, climbed in, and opened the glove compartment. In a rush, he emptied his pockets of his phone, wallet, and assorted items. “I usually do this first. I can’t even remember how many phones I’ve lost in the woods. It’s got to be at least five in the past couple years. The folks that work the phone kiosk at the mall love to see me coming. I only use the cheap ones now.”
She tisked. “I wreck watches. Something about me drains the batteries or freezes the mechanism. I think it’s my witch vibe.” With a flourish, she lifted her wrist and displayed a slender ladylike band hidden behind the thick silver cuff. “The only watch I can wear is my grandmother’s old-fashioned twist stem. I wind it up every morning and hope I never break it.”
Cautiously, he reached toward her and brushed his fingers along the watchband. “You have delicate wrists. Fredi, everything about you is so irresistible.” He leaned forward as if he meant to cup the back of her head and draw her into a kiss.
Breathless, she looked into his eyes. “Don’t!” Instantly, she yanked her hands away and pointed her fingertips out the window toward the already compromised brick wall. “We’re sitting on top of a gas tank. Please don’t do anything that would—”
“You’re right.” Gus looked contrite as he buckled his seat belt. “I’ll be more careful. It’s getting so much harder to control myself,” he mumbled. “And I do mean hard.”
The key was turned in the ignition, and the diesel engine turned over with a hardy rumble. “Okay, where are we headed?”
“The beach? Maybe I can run off some tension?”
“You can’t run far. Remember the ten strides rule? There is no way in hell I could run fast enough to keep up with you, either.”
“Maybe I can jog in a circle or do jumping jacks? I’ll try anything to speed the Hoodoo Blue out of my system.”
Her brow creased. “Jogging? God, I hope no one sees us.”
“Are you ashamed to be seen with a Lycan?”
“No, I’d be ashamed to get caught doing jumping jacks! Look at me. There hasn’t been a bra built that could withstand the G-forces. I started ditching PE class in the eighth grade. They were dreadful. I’m not athletic. Forget it. You can run in circles, but I’ll have to ride out Estele’s wayward brew in a more sedentary manner.”
“I think you’re perfect.”
The way Gus looked at her melted her heart. At that moment, he didn’t appear wild-eyed or desperate as he had a few moments ago. He looked like a man humbled, and his tone sounded sincere. Her lips parted to say something as simple as “thank you,” but no words came out. For a fleeting second, she wondered who she was really sitting beside. Was this the real Gus Odinson? Was he always this sweet, or was it the Hoodoo Blue talking?
“Fredi, you’re a dream girl, and this is my nightmare to be shifting in front of you on our first meeting and acting like a jerk.”
“You’re not being a jerk. I feel bad for you—for both of us. I wish things were different.” She’d already lost track of how many plasma fires she’d set that evening, and no doubt more mini firestorms were coming. When Gus wasn’t wolf-snarling or ripping his clothes, he seemed so approachable and genuine. The silent question bobbed to the surface—under better conditions, was it possible for a burly Lycan who looked like a lumberjack and a comfort-loving glamor witch like herself to make sense as lovers or more? “Where should we take our chances? We better choose now.”
“I have no idea.”
“We can’t block the sidewalk all night. Let’s make a decision before we pull onto the street.” She put the truck in reverse and tapped the gas. Nothing happened. The truck’s gas pedal took a much firmer nudge than her well-tuned Cadillac. The truck was much wider than she’d anticipated, too. The side mirrors were adjusted for Gus, and everything to her right was a mystery. Cautiously, she pressed her foot down, and suddenly the truck was propelled backward and struck a steel post with a shocking crunch.
“Damn!”
Gus’s eyes flashed amber. His fangs descended, and he lifted his face and howled like a wild beast. “Sorry!” He quickly got himself under control. “The noise startled me.” Worry etched his face. “You said you knew how to drive a truck. You don’t seem too sure of yourself.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s okay, Fredi. It’s just a truck. I have insurance.”
“And I have a magic wand.”
“Then we’ll be fine.” He lifted his hands, which had become paw-like and tipped with claws. “I doubt I could drive at all right now, so do the best you can.”
“Gus, I lied earlier. I’ve never driven a truck.”
He smiled. “I believe you.”
“You’re not angry?”
“No. This is your big chance to drive the hell out of my truck, because I’m a heartbeat away from ripping what’s left of my clothing off and loping down the main street of San Buena hairy, naked, and howling, so let’s get out of here. You do know how to drive a clutch, don’t you?”
“Not well.” She ground the truck’s gearshift into submission until she found first, hit the gas, and lurched forward onto the street. “By any chance is your condo close to downtown, yet conveniently isolated from others?”
“No, on both counts. I’m eight miles into the canyon, and I have neighbors above, below, and on two sides.”
“That won’t do. We can’t go there. Too many shared walls.” She turned right at the first stoplight. “We’ll go to my place. If things get really awful, you can dig pits in the beach like a dog, and I can melt sand into glass. At least we won’t hurt anyone.”
“How close are the other houses?”
“Pretty close. It’s a crowded little beach community.”
“So everyone will hear me howl?”
“Do you have to howl?”
“Good question. I’ve never tested that theory. Usually, it happens without me thinking about it.”
“I could gag you.”
His eyes reflected the pale glitter of the streetlights. “That sounds kinky.”
It did, but she didn’t dare allow her thoughts to wander toward tying up and subduing a man like Gus. That would challenge her self-restraint too severely. She hit the gas, and the engine whined.
He winced. “You might want to shift to second or even third gear. How far away is your house?”
“About a mile.”
“A mile?” With an anxious look on his face, he raked his claws against his pant legs and muttered, “I can hold out another mile. I can do this. I have it under control. I refuse to freak out. I’m okay.”
She turned the corner heading toward the beach and was confronted with a spectacular view of the full moon rising over the ocean.
Gus froze and stared longingly at the moon the way a preschooler stares at his mother picking him up from daycare. He rolled the window down, stuck half his body out, flailed his arms in the wind, and howled like a fool.
Fredi grabbed his torn shirt and yanked him onto his seat. “Stop it! Stay in the cab.”
“Whoops.” He slumped into the seat and readjusted the shoulder belt. “I got a little carried away. The moon makes me a little—”
“Loony? I’d say it makes you a lot loony.”
Glancing down, he appeared crestfallen. “Why do you think I isolate myself or head for the hills every full moon? I don’t enjoy becoming the full-moon buffoon or a hairy joke. I hate it. You have no idea how many potential relationships it’s cost me.”
It was easy to sympathize. Being a member of the enchantment community, she knew firsthand that some days it was no fun at all trying to hide the many differences between themselves and the rest of the world. How many times had she been too tall, too bossy, too witchy, too much by someone’s standards, and how many times had she cried about it?
She patted his knee. “L
ook, we’re almost there. My house is the last on the lane. It will be okay. Keep it together, and try to remain quiet. If I can avoid lighting things on fire, we might survive until morning.”
Gus settled deeper into the truck’s upholstery. Some days he loathed being Lycan. It could feel like a curse, especially in front of an attractive woman he wanted to make a good impression on. Fredi was one woman he did not want to frighten away. Damn, she was amazing. Made to order, actually, and he was hanging out the window, howling and clawing the air. How fucked-up was that? She did seem caring and pretty patient with him. That was a plus. “You’ve been really good about all this. You seem to have a talent for calming others down.”
Fredi smiled, and, when she did, a beautiful little Shirley Temple dimple appeared that left him breathless. He’d always been a sucker for a dimpled smile.
“I volunteer at an animal shelter. I’m used to getting frightened creatures to calm down.” Her voice was sugar sweet and put him in a sunnier state of mind.
“That’s cool. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.” He was looking at her and not exactly calming down, but certainly feeling better about everything. If anything, he was more excited than ever. She was so luscious he knew it would be a challenge to remain close and not kiss her, or more. He’d want her anytime, but a full moon required an extra strict dose of self-restraint. They couldn’t have picked a worse time to meet. The question that rose in his embattled mind was: how long could he remain so close to everything he’d ever wanted, and not grab? Yep, lycanthropy was a real pain in the ass. A little normal conversation was what was needed, and he hoped to sound sane.
“You can’t spend all your time at the shelter. What else do you do?”
“I’m also an accountant, but that’s so dull. I can take most of my work with me on my laptop.”
It took effort for him to not squirm. “You’re a Wiccan accountant? I think that’s a first for me. Have you ever hexed anyone’s books?”
She turned onto a narrow lane. “There are tons of Wiccan accountants out here! You’d be surprised. No, I’ve never hexed anyone’s books. I’m not that kind of witch, and being an accountant is not forever. It’s just a step along the way.”
“What would you like to be doing?”
“Some day, I’m going to have my own boutique with really stylish clothes for women of all sizes. You know, bold, form-fitting stuff for curves. No woman is ever going to hear the words, ‘we don’t have that in your size,’ because I’ll be able to witch it into their size. No one’s ever going to feel bad in my dressing rooms, either. Soft lighting, a magic mirror…”
He listened with approval. She was so smart, and he loved that she had ambition, too. On another night, it would be fun to go somewhere private and talk in uninterrupted peace and really get to know her better. So far, everything she said only piqued his interest. Too bad he was not at his best. Tamping his sexual impulses down was becoming a misery. The shifty sensations started to come on strong. He watched helplessly as his fingers curled and the nails turned into claws. A moment later, he wanted to howl so badly his throat tightened like a twisted garden hose until it was impossible to breathe more than a labored gulp.
Fredi’s cool blue eyes narrowed, and she shot him what he imagined to be one of her signature "Cruel Mistress" looks.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he wheezed.
Her glossy pink lips pouted. “You don’t look fine.”
He wanted to lick her lips and nip her throat. He gripped the armrest, praying he wouldn’t do anything rude. If he could get through the next few hours without making a total jerk of himself, it would be a fucking miracle.
Fredi pulled the truck into the tiny carport beside her house and parked. “We made it.” She sighed with relief.
Clumsily, he tried to unbuckle the seat belt, fumbled for a moment, but couldn’t do it. In surrender, he held up his paws. “Would you lend me a hand?”
“Sure.” She unfastened the belt and guided the metal buckle safely away from his face as it retracted.
He bent down and gently sniffed her hair. All his senses fired on eight cylinders. “You smell so nice.”
A lock of her hair brushed his chest as she leaned close and sniffed the side of his neck. “So do you. Are you wearing Bay rum?”
“Fredi, can I ask a favor?”
“That depends on what you’re asking.”
“Would you please take off your boots?”
Surprise lifted her brows. “My boots?”
“Let’s walk on the beach for a few minutes. I’m not ready to go inside, not yet. I need to be outdoors.”
His gaze traveled across the deserted stretch of beach toward the ocean. The moon lit the sand silver, and it was a mild night with only the slight stir of a breeze.
“Okay. A walk might be a good idea.” Fredi leaned forward and unzipped one of her tall black boots, revealing a pale calf. He stared at her with breathless interest. The simple act of removing her boots felt as provocative as a burlesque queen rolling a silk stocking down her leg or wriggling out of a pair of panties.
With a flirty sweep of her lashes, she glanced sideways. “You’re staring.”
“I can’t help it.”
The boot was kicked aside, and she unzipped the other.
As he gazed at Fredi’s feet, a bright color caught his eye. “You paint your toenails turquoise. That’s hot. I like it.”
“Turquoise is my favorite color.”
“Not raven black or deep purple, like every other witch?”
“I’m not like every other witch.”
“So far, that’s been true.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re different. I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of you, and it’s still all right. You didn’t make me feel awful. I get the sense I can relax with you, and you’re nice to be around.”
She beamed. “Thank you, Gus. I don’t hear compliments like that very often.”
“You should be hearing nice things about you all the time.”
Fredi looked directly at him with a saucy hand on her hip. “Do you know what I like about you?”
He couldn’t wait to hear it and felt a little scared at the same time. “What?”
“You’re not intimidated or in awe of me, and you don’t seem the least bit interested in getting a powerful witch under control.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Some warlocks need to supplement their own shortcomings, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m interested in you for you.”
“It’s refreshing.” She opened the truck door and eased to the ground. “Let’s take that walk on the beach. You do realize I’m sacrificing my pedicure, right? The sand will chip the hell out of the polish.”
“Would you untie my bootlaces, please?”
She walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and loosened the laces of his boots.
The boots were kicked aside, and he stepped down. He headed toward the beach, and she followed. “When I’m done shifting and have full use of my hands again, I’ll give you a fresh pedicure.”
“Promise?”
“I’d beg to do it. But I have to warn you. I might nibble and suck your toes first. I love pretty feet with turquoise toenails.”
An uncharacteristic burst of bashfulness flooded over her. “Good God, I don’t think I could sit still for that.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to stay still. You’re supposed to writhe like crazy.”
“Okay. Now I’m really blushing and wondering what that would feel like.”
“Can you walk a little faster? I’m dying to run on the sand. I’m getting that anxious, shaken-bottle-of-soda feeling. I need to start moving.”
In alarm, she grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Don’t bolt away from me. I don’t want to feel any more of that damn Satan’s acupuncture if you stray too far.”
Immediately, he slowed and felt bad about scarin
g her. “I won’t do anything that will hurt you. I’ll stay close.”
They stepped off the pavement onto sand that was still warm from a long summer day. The texture was heavenly to sink into. Her strides lengthened and slowed as she dug her toes in the sand and strolled across a broad stretch of beach that grew cooler and damper as they approached the shoreline.
A few blocks away, a commuter train heading north along the coast passed through the edge of town with its horn blaring. When they reached the wet tideline, Fredi realized the pounding surf would mask most any sounds Gus might make.
“If you need to howl, you could probably get away with it here.”
“I need to move.” Leaping into the air, he started doing jumping jacks and running in place. The shreds of his torn shirt floated around him. He tilted his head and howled loudly at the same moment the train blew its horn in the distance and pulled around the curve of a sea cliff. Breathing hard, he ran in a loop around her. “I feel a lot better. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” She turned to follow him with her gaze as he ran circles around her.
“Hey, look!” Gus held up his hands, which were hairless and had returned to normal. “This shift cycle is moving really fast.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“This is good news. It means I’ll have control over myself a lot sooner.” He stopped running and burst into another set of jumping jacks. “Why don’t you do what you need to do and work some of that stuff out of your system?”
“What do you mean?”
His knees bobbed up and down like pistons. “Damp sand, no one around, why not let off some steam?”
“You mean blast the hell out of this beach?”
Landing palms flat, he pumped out a few push-ups. “Yes, who would it hurt? Wet sand won’t burn.”
She watched him from the corner of her eye. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was a safe place to unleash a little witch fire. Her thoughts drifted toward a sweet little fantasy she’d been suppressing ever since she first laid eyes on him. She imagined climbing onto his lap and having him wrap his arms around her and pull her close. She loved his chest. It was spectacular and made all the better by a silky strip of hair running down the center that would be heaven to tangle her fingers in. She’d kiss every inch of it and work her way upward to the side of his throat and savor the rough sounds of his breath as he closed his eyes in surrender. By then, he’d be completely hers to do what she pleased, and she’d want to kiss him, hard. A first kiss had to be offered the right way, with the perfect amount of willingness, but no desperation. She imagined the sweeping curve of his lips pressed against hers as he gently took hold of her face and pulled her into a slow, sweet, inescapable kiss.
Hoodoo Blue Page 6
