by Michelle Fox
"I guess there’s no harm in some coffee." He joined her in the kitchen. Even with a blanket wrapped around her and mud streaking her legs, he found her beautiful.
He was so caught up in her that he missed the dog in the room until it almost tripped him. A yellow lab bumped the back of his knee, causing it to buckle. Kane jumped to the side, quickly regaining his balance. "What the..."
The dog wagged his tail and stared at Kane, his ears upright. He was a pale yellow lab, with fur so white it practically gleamed.
"Who is this?" Kane settled into a chair at the small table in the breakfast nook, and extended his hand to the dog, wanting to make friends.
"His name is Midas. He's friendly, but not too bright." Charlotte plugged in the coffee maker. "If I leave him alone in the house, he eats things. Like door knobs, shoes and the feet of furniture."
Midas sniffed Kane's hand and then took several steps back. Crouching down, he barked at Kane.
Kane frowned. Usually dogs liked him. "Huh. Guess he doesn't like me."
"Eh. Don't take it personally." Charlotte waved a hand as she took a box of coffee filters out of a cabinet. "I think becoming werewolves messed with our scent and it freaks him out. It took him a week to let me pet him again after I first shifted." She took a moment to usher Midas back into the laundry room. Shutting him in she said, "There, this way he won't bother us."
"He's a good looking dog," Kane said, feeling the need to say something nice. He felt bad about causing the dog to be shut away.
"Thanks. He's a sweetie." Charlotte set the coffee to brew and then turned to face Kane. "I’m going to take a quick shower and put on some clothes," she said, gesturing self-consciously to her blanket.
Kane resisted the urge to tell her to just drop the damn thing and let him see her again. He cleared his throat and said, "Sure. I’ll keep an eye on the coffee."
"I'll be back in five minutes." Charlotte disappeared upstairs, her ass swaying under the blanket. He couldn’t look away, the view was tantalizing.
She’s not your type, the little voice in his head said.
Says who? he answered back defiantly.
The little voice wisely fell silent.
Charlotte’s pack and a better choice than some human girl. Kane flexed his thighs thinking he could probably fuck faster and harder than ever now that he had werewolf super strength. He needed a woman who could handle him and Charlotte seemed to fit the bill. His cock twitched in agreement, already long and hard in his pants.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte’s hands shook as she lathered her hair in the shower. Mortification burned through her. Kane had seen her naked and she'd invited him to stay for coffee? What was she thinking? Better to kick him out so she could forget anything had ever happened.
The thing was, he smelled so damn good and looked even better, with his caramel skin and dark eyes. He also felt the closest thing to safe after being shot at by those two idiots from Java Jump.
I don’t want to be alone, Charlotte realized with a start.
That made her mad. She was a werewolf, dammit and strong enough to take on any human. She didn’t need to be afraid. Yet she couldn’t deny she found Kane’s presence reassuring. He’d been helping her all day. First, stopping her shift and then carrying her home. He’d even tended to her wound, which, peeking under her bandage, she noted had completely scabbed over. Soon it would disappear completely.
She would’ve been grateful for her werewolf healing powers if being a werewolf wasn’t the reason she needed them in the first place. This werewolf thing was more dangerous than she’d expected.
With a sigh, she finished her shower and quickly toweled herself dry. Running a comb through her hair, she worked out the snarls and then braided her long locks with nimble fingers. Then, pulling on a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt from her college, she returned to the kitchen.
So he’d seen her naked? So what? Life would go on. They would both get over it.
"What’s this I hear about cheesecake?" she asked as she poured the coffee. She selected her favorite mug, handmade by a local potter. The mug had been one of the first things she’d bought for her kitchen back when she lived in an apartment near her university. She chose a mug from the ‘good’ china for Kane. Hers had swirls of smoky blue glaze, while his was white porcelain with gold on the rim. The handle had a chip, but she couldn’t bear to part with it.
"My mom’s trying to get me to bring my girlfriend to dinner," Kane said, his tone morose.
"What’s the problem?" She handed him his coffee and then retrieved the cream out of the fridge, setting it on the table. Then, rummaging in the pantry, she found a box of shortbread cookies they could share. Grabbing her mug, she settled into the seat across from him, inhaling the steam from her coffee. She’d brewed a pecan cinnamon blend, and the scent was sweet, bitter, and rich, like good coffee should be. Pulling out a cookie, she dunked it in the coffee, swirling it in a circle to make sure it sopped up as much of the brew as possible.
"I don’t have a girlfriend." He reached for the cookies, grabbing two.
Charlotte paused, cookie going still inside her coffee cup. She knew he didn't have long-term relationships, but the idea of no girlfriend at all surprised her. Had he been burned? Even flings could come with a side of psycho mind fuck. She spared a dark thought, full of ill will, for her ex, the one who’d ditched her on a remote beach and left her at the mercy of the crazy-ass werewolf who’d bitten her. He’d said they weren’t on the same page. Forget page. I’m in a different damn book at this point.
With a sigh, she focused back on Kane. "Why does your mom think you have a girlfriend?"
He poured cream into his coffee. "It started this morning when we ran into each other. Mrs. Harris saw us and has decided we’re getting married."
She blinked. "Are you serious?"
Kane nodded. "Yep. I tried to tell her, but she refused to believe me. Worse, she’s also friends with my mom who now wants my girlfriend to come for dinner." He ran a hand through his hair, and frowned. "I tell the truth, but they hear what they want to hear. It's crazy. How am I supposed to fix selective hearing?"
Charlotte couldn't help but be sympathetic to his plight. Kane looked truly upset and she liked that he seemed to care so much about his mom. To her, there was something extra sexy about a man who loved his momma. Wanting to help, she said, "I could talk to Mrs. Harris and tell her we aren’t an item. She was my Sunday school teacher in the third grade and she might listen to me."
"Thanks. That's nice of you, but she’s got it fixed in her mind now and I’ve never seen her change her opinion once it’s set." He finished the last of his coffee. "My mom is going to be so disappointed. That’s what I hate most."
"She’s had a rough year," Charlotte said.
"Yeah, chemo was a bitch."
"How is she feeling these days? I haven’t seen her in a while." Nothing stayed secret for long in Glen Vine and even though Charlotte had been in college at the time, she’d heard about Kane’s mom.
Kane shrugged. "So far, so good. She’s done with all the treatments. The blood work looks good. We’re waiting on another PET scan to get the all clear."
"Well, that’s good news, right?"
He nodded. "Yeah, it is, but now she’s all about me getting married and having babies. I am never going to hear the end of the gossip Mrs. Harris started."
"Well," Charlotte started slowly, "if it would help, I could pose as your girlfriend."
Kane frowned at her. "How would that help? Isn’t that what I’m trying to avoid? Everyone thinking we’re an item?"
"Hear me out." She held up a hand. "I can pretend to be your girlfriend, and I’ll be the worst girlfriend ever. Your mom will hate me, I swear. When you 'break up,'" she made air quotes as she said the words, "with me, she’ll be thrilled."
He considered the idea, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "You don’t think that’s dishonest?"
She shrugged. "If you've got a bet
ter way to get her to hear to the truth loud and clear, I'm all ears."
"What about your parents?"
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "What parents? They’re off globetrotting and enjoying their retirement. They’re never home, so they’ll never know. By the time they are back in town, we'll be old news." She leaned over the table and added, "Seriously, I could be the worst girlfriend ever. Can you imagine when Mrs. Harris hears about it? She won't be able to keep her mouth shut, and the whole reason you're single will be all my fault."
Kane chuckled. "I like the way you think, Char. I just don’t know if this is really the best way to go about it." His phone dinged and he looked at the screen, swallowing back a groan when he saw a never-ending line of new texts pop up from his mom.
Does she like green beans?
Or should I make salad?
What does your girlfriend drink?
Don’t forget to tell her to hold the toilet handle down for five seconds or the toilet won’t flush.
What should I wear? What is she wearing?
I could wear that dress I wore to your cousin’s wedding.
I can’t wait to meet her! I’ve dreamed of this day for so long! I was just looking at my wedding pictures today. Such great memories, ones I hope you find.
Do you know where my black pumps are? I can’t find them.
Does your girlfriend like cheesecake?
Oh, and what’s her name? Are we allowed to know her name, or is that a big secret, too?
Kane clapped a hand to his brow and shook his head as his phone continued to ding with incoming texts. His mother was on a roll.
"What is it?"
He held up the phone so she could see. "She’s flipping out."
"Yeah, I can see that." She snatched the phone from his hands and, before he could protest, she was texting with his mom.
"Charlotte," he said, his voice a low, warning growl.
"What?" She looked at him with feigned innocence. "Dude, I’m doing you a solid. You cannot tell this woman no right now. She was looking at her wedding pictures, for goodness sake. Women only do that when they’re depressed. Trust me when I say she’s in a delicate state." Her fingers danced over his phone. "I hate cheesecake, and I only drink cosmopolitans." Looking up, she whispered, "Really, I love your mom’s cheesecake, but for you, I’ll pretend it makes me throw up in my mouth."
"I’m not sure this is such a great idea," Kane said.
Charlotte handed his phone back. "Too late, Sheriff. We’re having dinner with your parents tomorrow night."
"Why?" he asked, his voice a loud bark and his eyes flashing with what she decided was irritation. "Why are you doing this?"
"Look, you told her the truth and she didn't want to hear it. This way she has no choice and she'll get off your back about it. Plus, we’re pack." She patted his hand, hoping to calm him down. "We take care of our own, right? And I like your mom. Let’s not break her heart if we don’t have to."
His piercing gaze pinned her down. "So we lie?"
"We're letting her down easy," Charlotte corrected him. "Lie makes it sound dirty. It's going to be fine, I promise. Just pick me up tomorrow around six, okay?"
Chapter Eight
Kane left Charlotte’s house, his mind buzzing with worry. Things just kept spinning out of control. What if his mom found out? What exactly was Charlotte’s plan? He made a note to get more details from her on that. Some clarification on what she meant by the worst girlfriend in the world would be useful. The last thing his mom needed was a heart attack.
Just as he reached for the door handle on his cruiser, something whined in the air, the sound sharp and high strung. He cocked his head, first listening then wincing as the cause of the sound whipped past his ear and slammed into a tree behind him. The force of the impact shook the bright yellow leaves off their branches. He froze for a second as his mind shifted gears and processed the fact that someone was shooting at him.
That sound had been a bullet.
He dove behind his cruiser, his gaze seeking out the two men he’d cuffed earlier. They were still there, right where he left them. Both men looked at him with wide eyes. Kane motioned for them to get down and they dropped from sight.
Another bullet sang in the air.
Followed by a panicked scream from inside the cruiser.
Kane kneeled and peeked inside, dread filling him as he took in the scene. The one man hadn’t dropped down fast enough, and the last bullet had gone through the rear passenger window and into his head. He slumped against the door, back arched, head at an unnatural angle, eyes wide open, but seeing nothing as blood dribbled down his face.
"Shit," Kane said.
The remaining man pounded on the window. "Let me out! You can’t leave me here like this!"
Kane motioned for the man to take cover and worked to figure out his next step. Could he make it to the driver’s seat without being shot and drive off? Maybe, but that would put him in the direct line of fire without any protection. If he got hit, he wouldn’t be saving anyone.
He shook his head, rejecting the idea. No, that was too risky to be anything but a last resort. Better to try a different tactic, one that allowed both of them to take cover.
"Stay down," he shouted at the man, who was still banging on the window, trying to get his attention. "Don’t look up and don’t peek. Just stay down. The doors will protect you better than anything else can." The man inside went still and then nodded at Kane. He sank down and out of sight.
Moving back to the hood end of the car, Kane said as loud as he could, "I’m Sheriff Martin. Drop your weapon and come out with your hands up." Silence answered him, so he tried again. "No one has to get hurt."
A bullet was the only response. Kane frowned and pulled his revolver. Peering over the hood of his cruiser, he scanned the thin band of woods across the street, hoping to spot the shooter. Based on the trajectory of the bullets, he had a general idea where they were, what he didn’t know was why they were shooting at him.
Or, maybe, it wasn’t him the shooter was after. Maybe this had nothing to do with him at all. Kane glanced at the back-seat of his cruiser. What if the two men he’d taken into custody were in some kind of trouble? Was that why one of them had already been shot? Was this a professional hit of some kind?
Another bullet came toward him, this one closer than the others. It skidded across the hood of the cruiser and he ducked out of the way, watching as the bullet fell harmlessly to the ground and landed next to his shoe. He picked it up and frowned at the warm bullet. The metal was bright, similar to chrome, instead of the usual brassy yellow. Strange. Slipping it into his pocket, he focused back on locating the shooter.
But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see anyone and bullets kept coming at regular intervals. Out of patience, Kane fired a shot…which promptly lost itself in a pine tree. With no clear target, his aim was off.
A car whizzed past, oblivious to the shootout in process. Looking down the road, Kane spotted a semi with two trailers headed his way. Clearing his throat, he yelled, "This is your last warning. Surrender now, or I will shoot to kill."
The sound of harsh laughter filled the air. "Stupid wolf. There is no surrender. Only death."
Kane ducked down low as a succession of bullets was launched toward him. "What do you mean wolf?" Did this have something to do with being a werewolf?
"Your kind must die. All of you. I’m the hand of right, the heart of justice, and the blood of the pure."
"What the hell?" Kane muttered to himself. The guy sounded like a racial purity wing nut, one who knew about werewolves. The realization sent a chill up Kane's spine.
The semi reached them then, lumbering past with a roar and blocking the shooter. Kane took advantage of the lull and pulled out his phone, reaching out to the only person he knew could help: Tao. The big alpha and his two brothers had stayed in Glen Vine to help the people who’d been bitten. Partly, Kane felt, to absolve them of the fact that their fourt
h brother had been the one who'd done the biting. They had other reasons to stick around, too. From what he’d been told and overheard, the brothers hadn’t exactly been wanted in their own pack. They needed a new home, and Glen Vine needed some experienced werewolves to show the new ones the way forward.
As a bonus, Tao and his brother Leo were crazy strong. And Kai, the third brother, had some kind of magic mojo thing that could be useful. Or so Kane had heard. He would prefer to believe magic didn’t exist, that deductive reasoning made the world go round, but now that he turned furry and howled at the moon on a regular basis, he had to accept there was more to the world than science and cold, hard facts.
Fingers flying over his phone, he sent a quick text to Tao. If anyone would know what to do it would be him. Failing that, he could call in the shooting and get some back-up, but his instincts said the less humans involved the better on this one.
His phone vibrated with a response from Tao.
Where are you?
Kane texted back his location. What do I do?
I’ll be there in a second. Sit tight.
The semi was gone now, leaving the cruiser wide open. The shooter didn’t waste time slinging more bullets. "Come on, wolf. Let’s make it a clean kill."
Kane pressed against the cold metal of his cruiser and tried to think. Crawling forward, he peeked around the bumper, figuring the shooter would be watching the hood. Nothing. He saw nothing but woods and brush. Where the hell was the shooter?
As if in answer to his question, something moved in the shadows across the street and a man stepped forward. Tall and broad, he wore camo gear with a sash of bullets over his chest. He held a rifle in his hands, and his gaze was fixed on the police cruiser.
He whistled. "Here, wolfie, wolfie."
Kane grimaced at his attacker’s sneering contempt and scooted back to the passenger door, which gave him more cover.
"I’m not alone," he called out, hoping to stall the man. He checked his phone, looking for evidence that his words were true, but Tao hadn’t sent any new texts.
The shooter snorted. "You mean those two humans in your back-seat? You already tied them up for me. What are they going to do?"
