It was true. He was nice to a fault, and nobody could ask for a better friend, but when it came to fighting, he was at the bottom of pack hierarchy. That was one reason the poor guy couldn’t get a mate to save his life. Most of the women in the territory were attracted to the more macho, domineering type, and Hyatt was the type to bring roses and hand-written poetry to a first date.
For some reason, though, even though he was the complete opposite of Creel, Creel found that he enjoyed the skinny coyote’s company.
“We weren’t,” Douglas assured him, at the same time that Creel said, “We know.”
“Ouch.” Hyatt pretended to look hurt. “Not even a token denial.”
“Fox shifter,” Rory said apologetically. “I am an excellent accountant, if the ability to crunch numbers would be helpful in any way to anyone here. Also I have a talent for photography, if you ever need your portrait taken.”
Creel stared at the nerdy little shifter. “Why, exactly, did you move to a place like Greenlands?”
“Of course he’s welcome here,” Hyatt said quickly.
Rory avoided his gaze, staring at the ground. “Well, I didn’t really fit in with my pack and I couldn’t find a mate. And I kept getting beaten up a lot.”
Creel could only imagine.
“So, about the various scumbags in the territory…”
“If laying down the law’s not your thing, then don’t do it,” Creel said.
Douglas scowled and shook his head. “Someone’s got to do it,” he said with annoyance.
“Why?” Creel asked simply.
“Damn it, Creel, you know why. Because otherwise the whole area descends into chaos,” Douglas said, with an edge to his tone. “And I know there are a lot of douchebags in this territory, but there are also some decent people worth protecting.”
No one else would have dared to speak to Creel in that manner, but Douglas was one of Creel’s few friends, and Creel respected him enormously.
Of course Creel would never tell him that, because Creel was not in the business of handing out warm fuzzies. Creel was in the business of supporting himself with carpentry work, going out for the occasional drink, and ensuring that everyone stayed out of his way. From time to time, when one of the women at the Rotgut crawled into his lap, he didn’t turn her down. “Be nice to see the area calm down a little bit,” Douglas mused. “Maybe Sophia would stay over at my place a little more often.” Sophia was a waitress who worked at a restaurant in the western territory.
“I’d love to find my mate,” Hyatt sighed.
“We know,” Creel and Douglas said at the same time.
The problem with Hyatt was, he was too nice. Girls who moved to a rugged frontier territory were looking for a big, tough badass. Hyatt was a purring kitten trapped in a coyote shifter’s skinny body.
“Maybe someday I’ll find a woman who lets me worship the ground she walks on,” Hyatt mused, his expression gone all sad and gooey.
Creel shuddered. “Maybe don’t tell the ladies that on the first date.” Then he glanced at Douglas. “I thought you guys were just casual.”
“Well, perhaps I’d like things to be a little less casual,” Douglas said. “I’m even thinking of opening up a restaurant in town and asking Sophia to run it with me. If things settle down here. Anyway, we were talking about the Mathers issue.”
“No, you were talking about the Mathers issue, whatever it is,” Creel said. “I told you before, I’m nobody’s cop and I’m nobody’s hero. If someone comes after you directly, let me know, and I’ll end them. Other than that, I just want to be left alone.”
“Are you at least going to help with the patrol?” Douglas asked.
All the male shifters in the territory were volunteering to patrol the construction site where the meeting house was being built, to make sure that it wasn’t sabotaged before the Alpha Prime Summit. A shifter from Wisconsin, a big, annoying Alpha Prime named Angrim, had been selected by vote among all the Primes to be in charge of organizing security.
“Yeah, yeah,” Creel said with annoyance. “I’ll take a few shifts.”
He walked into the Rotgut and headed straight for the bar. It was crowded and dimly lit, and smelled of sweat and animal musk and spilled beer. The other shifters looked away as he walked by, picking up on the irritable energy crackling from his body.
“Give me a bottle of whiskey,” he said to Jeremy, the bartender.
“You mean a shot?”
“You heard me.” He tossed some bills onto the counter.
Jeremy set a no-name bottle of liquor down in front of him. Creel drank straight from the bottle, shuddering at the taste. The Rotgut lived up to its reputation, all right. No human could survive drinking here.
Hyatt and Rory walked up to Creel when he was about halfway through the bottle. The liquor was doing nothing to take the edge off his angry, pissy mood. That woman had rattled him. It had been many years since he’d let a woman get under his skin like that, and he’d vowed back then – never again. But something about Miranda called to his wolf, set it howling deep inside him.
A pretty girl walked by, eyeing Creel. Creel looked away, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her. He wished that drowning himself in a meaningless romp in the grass out back would distract him, but for some reason, he was sure that it would just make him feel worse.
Hyatt lit up, thinking the girl was looking at him.
“You’re looking exceptionally beautiful today,” he said to her. “May I buy you a drink?”
She looked him up and down scornfully. “Only if I get to fuck your friend afterwards,” she said, and Hyatt’s face fell.
Creel snorted. She’d been rude to his friend; that clinched it. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t fuck you with Osama Bin Laden’s dick,” he growled. “And he’s been dead for a while now.”
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.” She turned red and stomped off.
“Stay classy!” Creel called after her, and was rewarded with her holding up her fist, middle finger extended.
He set down the bottle. It wasn’t helping and it tasted like drain cleaner, and watching Hyatt mope like a puppy that had been kicked was turning a lousy evening even worse. He was about to leave when Douglas walked up to him with an odd look on his face.
“Uh, Creel, did you forget to tell me something?” he asked.
“Tell you what?”
“The crazy— Er, I mean, the girl who opened up that candle shop a few months ago, Miranda? She’s outside, and she says that you’re her mate and she’s done with work and she needs a ride home.”
Creel felt the black cloud that was hovering over him lift a bit. That wasn’t good; he couldn’t be dependent on Miranda’s presence. Miranda’s or anyone’s.
Without answering Douglas, he got up and walked outside.
Miranda was standing there with an overnight bag. She wore a light blue wraparound dress. The V-neck accentuated the swell of her breasts, and he felt raw hunger burning through him. Angrily, he shook it off and walked over to her, trying not to breathe through his nose. Damn her, why did she have to smell so good and why did he want to know if she tasted as sweet as she smelled?
“What are you doing here, and why are you telling people that I’m your mate?” he growled at her in a low voice, glancing around. A few shifters were standing there staring at him, including Doug, Rory and Hyatt, who’d followed him out of the bar. The girl who’d tried to hit on him earlier was standing there too, glaring at Miranda with her hands on her skinny hips.
Miranda glanced around to make sure nobody was listening, then leaned in and spoke quietly. “My pack doesn’t believe that we’re really mated,” she said. “I saw them down the road from my shop, watching to see if I was going to spend the night there.”
Before Creel could answer, Douglas, Hyatt and Rory walked up to them.
“Is this your mate?” Hyatt said to Creel. “You are a lucky man. She walks in beauty, like the night. Congratulations.” He
sounded woebegone as he said it.
The three men introduced themselves.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” Rory said to Miranda. “Congratulations on a most felicitous pairing.”
Miranda glanced to her left and said, as if somebody were standing right there, “Why do I have to ask Hyatt if he’s single?” She paused for a minute, and then said with a touch of exasperation, “You and your compulsive matchmaking. Oh, fine. That might work, I guess.”
She turned to look at Hyatt. “Are you single? Asking for a friend.”
“Uh…yes?” Hyatt looked at Douglas for help. “What friend? The invisible one you were just talking to?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Miranda said, looking at him as if he were crazy. “My grandmother? She’s way too old for you.” She glanced to the left again and frowned. “Oh, quit,” she said. “That was not an insult. You look stunning for your age and, er, corporeal condition. But he is way too young for you. You’ve never liked younger men anyway, so I don’t know what you’re getting all huffy about. Besides, you just said I should introduce him to Suki.”
She looked at Hyatt. “You are mated, or you aren’t?” she persisted. “I have a friend who’s single, and you look like you’re her type, but she’s a really nice person, so I wouldn’t fix you up with her unless you really were single.”
“Uhhh…” Hyatt’s mouth hung open and he stared at her, speechless.
“Hephzibah? I don’t know if she even wants to date anyone,” Miranda said in exasperation to that invisible spot in the air. “Oh, fine. What about you, Rory? Are you single?”
“They’re both so single it’s painful. Let’s go home now,” Creel said, his tone resigned. He gestured at his truck and they walked over. He held open her door for her, then got in and drove off, leaving everyone behind staring at them in bafflement.
Creel drove home in silence. He was struggling with what to do. He had to admit to himself that he actually cared about this woman, crazy as she was, even though he’d only met her yesterday.
He didn’t want to see her get hurt.
On the other hand, bitter experience had taught him what happened when you trusted a woman and let her in. Sure, this woman was no Jazmin…at least not yet. Then again, Jazmin hadn’t started out as a traitor either.
His thoughts kept bouncing back and forth like a ping-pong ball, rattling around inside his skull.
Being around this woman felt far too right and far too comfortable.
But Creel couldn’t think of any other way to keep her safe than to let her stay at his house.
She glanced at him. “It wouldn’t be forever,” she said, as if she knew what he was thinking. “It wouldn’t even have to be for that long. It would just be until they believe that I’m really claimed by you, and then I’d go back to my cabin. They only came to Greenlands because of me, and as soon as they see that they can’t grab me, they’ll give up and go back home. In the meantime, I can cook and clean for you.”
“Why are they so damn determined to take you?” Creel said.
“Good point – why would anyone want me?” Miranda snapped, looking out the window.
“You got a real chip on your shoulder about that, don’t you?” Creel said. “For your information, my dick gets harder than a diamond every time I look at you, and I would love nothing more than to rip your clothes off and fuck you six days ’til Sunday.”
She stared at him, open-mouthed.
“What?” Creel said, amused. “Not used to guys who speak their mind?”
“I guess I’m not used to guys saying that to me,” she said.
“Well, then the guys where you’re from must be blind,” Creel said. “My saying no to claiming you has nothing to do with whether or not I want you. I told you, I’m a wreck of a man living in a crazy wolf’s body, or vice versa. I’m no good to you, or myself, or anyone else.”
“I see,” Miranda said. “Except that I heard around town that you date girls from time to time, so I’d assume that you’re just making excuses right now. Which is fine. I’m not your type. You can be honest about it.”
“Sweetheart, if you knew me at all, you’d know that I’m brutally honest. Those were just girls looking for a good time, and I made it clear up front that was all they’d get,” Creel said. “You…you’d be a life mate, or nothing. And I’ve got nothing.”
They pulled up in front of his house. Creel opened the door and climbed out, and when they reached the house he held open the door for her and she walked in.
“So you hold the door open for ladies. At least you’re a gentleman,” she said, smiling faintly.
“Argh. No I’m not. Next time I’ll let you open the door for yourself.”
She shook her head. “No you won’t,” she said as she walked into the living room.
“No, I probably won’t,” he agreed glumly. His mother would rise up from her grave and smack him if he did that. She’d raised him to open doors for women and pull out chairs and generally be respectful of the fairer sex unless they gave him a reason to do otherwise. It had been drummed into him so thoroughly that he doubted he could ever shed the habit.
“You can take a bedroom,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” He glanced around the room uneasily.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You’re going to go out for a run.”
“Yeah, that’s what I do when I’m stressed out,” Creel said. “It’s not you. I’m just not used to having anybody so…so close to me.” He choked that last part out, and she looked at him oddly.
Without another word he walked outside, stripped his clothes off, and ran away from the cabin as if his life depended on it.
Chapter Five
When he got back, the delicious smell of fried chicken tantalized his nostrils. And she’d also cooked biscuits and corn. It took him back to a time in his childhood before everything went bloody, a time when he and his twin brother Benjamin would race through the door to the smell of his mother’s cooking.
Benjamin the traitor. The anniversary of his treachery was only a few days away.
He shook his head to clear the ugly memory, and headed into the house.
“Smells good,” he muttered, and helped her to set the table. He wanted to make sure that she didn’t read anything into that, though, so he scowled the whole time and didn’t say anything else.
It didn’t matter. She talked enough for both of them.
She chattered nonstop through dinner. She talked about making candles, and about some weird owl named Hephzibah who was a friend of hers, and her other friend Suki, and about her favorite family recipes. She talked about her grandmother, and he couldn’t quite tell if her grandmother was alive, dead, or a complete figment of her imagination. Something about her grandmother appearing to her the day after her mother left their pack.
“What’ll it take to get you to shut up?” he said finally.
“Hmm,” she said quizzically. She didn’t look hurt; she just looked as if she were considering her options. She thought for a minute, then nodded. “Take a walk with me. I promise I will be completely silent.”
They left, and he found himself leading her through the woods to the lake near his house.
Out here in the middle of nowhere, the night was still and quiet. There was no light pollution to hide the brilliance of the stars. The Milky Way was a broad, sparkling band across a sky of midnight blue. As they walked, the scent of pine needles crushed beneath their feet rose around them. Creel breathed deeply, inhaling the aroma and drawing in the sense of peace that seemed to surround Miranda like an aura.
He knew that was a dangerous thought, but he pushed his reservations aside. Just for now. He could allow himself to savor the moment.
When they reached the sandy shore, he stopped and said, “So how did you know about the birthmark?”
She gestured at her lips and made a gesture as if she had turned a key, locking them.
“You have my permission to talk now,” he s
aid, his lips twitching in amusement.
She shook her head and kept walking. He stopped and blocked her way.
“Come on, talk!” he said.
She shook her head and made the key gesture again, and pretended to throw the key away. He held out his hand and pretended to catch the key.
When he reached forward to unlock her lips with the imaginary key, she laughed and tried to move away, and he grabbed her and startled wrestling.
They fell to the ground, and he pinned her down underneath him and unlocked her mouth with the imaginary key.
“The key didn’t fit! It was the wrong key!” she yelled.
“Then how are you talking?” he demanded. “It was obviously the right key. I know my keys, woman. Used to be a professional locksmith.”
“You were?” She looked at him skeptically.
“Maybe.” He pinned her hands over her head. “How did you know about the birthmark?” Arousal pulsed through his body, and as he pressed against her, he felt every beat of her heart.
She met his gaze boldly. “I’ll tell you if you let me ask you one personal question.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m good.”
They lay there for a long minute, and finally she sighed and said, “I guess you can get off me now.”
“I guess I could. I’m pretty comfortable, though.”
He brushed a leaf out of her hair.
Then he leaned down to kiss her.
He couldn’t help it. She felt so soft and good underneath him – all pliant warmth. His cock was hard against her hip, and he knew she must be able to feel it. And he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath.
As he bent his head and pressed his mouth against hers, her lips parted on a sigh. He gave a needful groan and flicked his tongue against hers, and she rewarded him with a gasp of arousal.
The hair prickled at the nape of his neck and staticky excitement swept through him. As he explored her mouth with his tongue, he couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat pumping thickly in his ears. Couldn’t think of anything but the yielding softness of her body beneath his.
His Curvy Mate (Alpha Prime Book 2) Page 4
