Bayou Wolves Boxed Set

by Anne Marsh

  I’d bet Gianna doesn’t give two hoots for any medieval blue moon bride pronouncements. If Luc makes the mistake of trying to control her life, to lay down pack law, expecting her to toe the line… I’ll be able to see the fireworks from right here in Port Leon.

  “Still,” Jace continues, shaking his head, “I think—”

  The sound of vehicles crunching up the road cuts Jace off. My brother isn’t wrong when he observes that this week is all kinds of crazy. There’s every possibility that Luc will try to kill me on the spot. We are werewolves, after all. Predators. Stone-cold killers when the situation calls for it. And wolves are very, very possessive of their mates. That’s why Jace is hanging around the front of the house with me. If the afternoon takes a right-hand turn into the territory of really fucked, Jace will be ready to fight for me.

  One mile. My wolf’s sensitive hearing gives me plenty of heads-up.

  Jace bumps shoulders with me. “Looks like you’re in luck after all.”

  Based on Jace’s clothes, he has plans for a ride after he finishes backseat driving my meet and greet. The torn jeans and the leather jacket with its patches announce badass biker dude, and only myself and a select handful of others are aware that Jace’s biker status is a borrowed cover rather than a genuine lifestyle choice. Jace might hate the Breed every bit as much as I do, but on the surface, he fits in well with those werewolves. Odds are high that Gianna will take one look at her welcoming committee and get right back in the truck. Hell, I’m no prize either in my jeans, T-shirt and work boots. Yeah. I’m no fancy man.

  I’m the Alpha and the county sheriff. I enforce the rules and make sure others keep to the straight and narrow. When I’m not in uniform, I like a cold beer and a fishing line, a little fantasy football and the woodworking job I’m doing on our plantation house. Maybe I should have made more of an effort. Gone shopping for new clothes or new sheets. Got her something to mark the occasion.

  “She’s crazy if she don’ pick you,” Jace says quietly. “You know I mean that. We all give you shit, but you’re the glue that holds our pack together, and we’ve all got your back on this. If she makes you happy, if she’s the one for you, then we’ll do whatever it takes to bring her home. Pissin’ off the Breauxs isn’t a deal breaker.”

  I appreciate the vote of support, but wolf pack politics are complex and his offer to shoulder an interpack war isn’t one I can accept. Our pack has a polite but uneasy arrangement with the other local wolf packs. Outright hostility isn’t in anyone’s best interest, not when we all need to stay under human radar. Plus the Breauxs have trouble snapping hard at their heels. When they came over from France some two hundred years ago, vampire skin hunters tailed them. The skin hunters like to catch werewolves and skin them—hence the name. From what I’ve learned, wearing those skins let the hunters walk around in daylight.

  My pack is more low-key. Long ago, a French shifter hooked up with a local shifter lass. Two bred three and so on. We like to keep it simple. People meet and they make a family—there’s none of this predestined mate crap.

  So staying under the radar has worked out well for my pack, and I won’t draw attention to us now. I certainly don’t want every skin hunter in the area checking out the Jones pack because we’re fighting with the Breauxs. It sucks, but sometimes discretion is the safest path.

  Inviting Gianna out to my pack’s home isn’t safe at all. Where she goes, Luc will undoubtedly follow, and his trespassing on my pack’s land will lead to fights. Ostensibly, I’m Gianna’s personal one-wolf witness-protection program, but of course I’m hoping she has hot, kinky sex with me. That I can use the time to get closer to her, to win her over to my side and away from Luc. And barring that, I want these seven nights to figure out how I make a threesome work.

  I lean forward, searching the road because, oui, I’m impatient and not bothering to hide it. Another two, three hundred yards and I’ll have her. Jesus. I have it bad. “I won’ endanger the family.”

  That’s the truth right there. If things go my way, Gianna will become part of that family and my mate, but the pack comes first.

  Jace flashes me a grin. “Maman would kill you.”

  That’s not a literal statement, because there’s no one sweeter than our mother, but disappointing her? I’d rather take a full set of claws to the gut. And since I know what that feels like, that’s saying something. She’ll be thrilled I’ve brought a girl home because she’s been after all of us to do so for years. In fact, she’s likely already planning our wedding and picking out grandbaby names. I certainly don’t look forward to explaining to her that I don’t have a relationship. I have a one-week shot at earning Gianna’s heart. Maman won’t approve. Plus in her heart she’s every bit wolf as the rest of us now. She just might tell me to take what and who I want.

  And I want Gianna.

  A truck pulls up, spitting gravel on the toes of my boots. Another six inches and my feet would be underneath the tires. Nice driving, but the attitude sucks. Luc stares at me through the windshield, lips peeled back from his teeth. Canines. Oui. Luc Breaux is pissed as hell about this week. Despite our tentative détente in Gianna’s bed a month ago, Luc would rather be ripping out my throat. In this, I’m in full agreement with him, not least since he never asked for permission to drive out here on Jones land. He’s trespassing and we both know it.

  Naturally Jace glares right back. Fuck with one Jones and you screw with us all. Ordinarily, I’m on board with that sentiment, but today it’s a complication I don’t need.

  Jace doesn’t take his eyes off the truck and its hostile occupant when he says, “I’m just bein’ honest here, but you got your work cut out for you. I can kill that guy, make your life easier some.”

  If anyone fights the other Alpha, it will be me.

  “Stand down,” I snarl, not taking my eyes off the truck. “He’s leavin’. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  Luc throws the truck into park and swings down, boots slamming into the gravel. The other male is a good-looking bastard if you go for the dark-eyed, dark-haired Cajun type. He wears his hair ruthlessly short, and long hours out on the bayou have sun bronzed his skin. Everything about him screams wild. Powerful predator. If I were a female wolf, I’d look at him and recognize the male who could protect me and mine.

  A low, warning growl vibrates in Jace’s throat. My brother rises up on the balls of his feet, clearly itching to go after the other Alpha. He needs to nip that aggression in the bud. “We kill the Breaux Alpha on Maman’s front porch and she will have words with us,” I warn him, not caring that Luc hears every word. It’s the one warning shot I’ll give him. This is my territory and my pack. If things go my way, I’m making his woman mine, too.

  Jace dips his head, acknowledging the unspoken warning and demand to stand down. Fur ripples over the back of his hands as he fights for control, but I’m the Alpha here. “Point taken. Are you sure about this?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  Gianna gets under my skin, and I’m taking this chance to learn more about her. Luc slams the truck door closed and nods a terse greeting in my direction before leaning back against the truck and folding his arms over his chest. Unless he has Gianna stashed in the bed of his truck, that truck of Luc’s is empty as fuck. For a painful, unwelcome moment, my heart drops somewhere down near my stomach. Maybe she really isn’t coming.

  “Get the hell out of here,” I growl, moving forward.

  Luc flashes his canines. “Gianna’s on her way here, and I’m talkin’ to her.”

  Interesting that she didn’t give him a chance to talk before she headed for my place. I file that piece of information away for later.

  “You need to get back in that truck of yours and leave.” The or else hangs in the steamy bayou air between us, and Luc growls. I bare my teeth in response, my wolf snapping at me to let loose, to change. In a dominance fight, Luc and I would be evenly matched, and there’s no predicting who would win.

  �
��I thought we were supposed to be gettin’ along.” Luc gives me a grin that is more snarl than smile, and Jace bristles.

  “You need to try harder—from a distance.” I’m in his face now, my body all but touching his.

  “I’ll leave when she gets here.” Luc’s eyes never leave my face. Luc won’t roll over for me, won’t back down any more than I would… except that once.

  Erotic images from our one night together immediately pop into my head like a series of bawdy, beautiful postcards. If you wan’ him, take him. The words Luc spoke that night still ring in my ears. Luc had no right to give me to Gianna. He wasn’t and never will be my Alpha, but I gave him a pass on those words for that one night. Because Gianna did exactly what he said. She took me, took us both, and her erotic curiosity about slayed me. I’d carried her inside Luc’s bayou cabin, laid her down on the bed, and loved her good while Luc did the same. I’d fucked her from the front, working her sweet pussy, while Luc claimed the virgin territory of her ass. He may have been her first, but I intended to be her last and best.

  Remembering that night—because I intend to relive every moment daily until I die—my dick does its best impression of an iron bar. Of course, just because she’s coming to my place now doesn’t mean we’re having sex. I’d never force her. We all knew that. Oui, my Gianna would be meeting me with a shotgun if that was the case. A second vehicle crunches over the gravel, lighter and quicker than Luc’s truck.

  She’s here.

  CRUZ

  Gianna drives a bright blue sports car that’s both fun and low-slung. She throws the car around the last curve fast, as if the gravel road is a motorway and she’s battling for the pole position. She’d win too, because Gianna doesn’t play to lose, which is just one more thing I love about her. Jace whistles appreciatively, and I can’t blame him. Sweet baby Jesus, but she’s hot. With the top down and her hair in a ponytail and scarf, she sends all my Marilyn Monroe fantasies roaring back to life. She comes to a neat stop, tires spitting gravel, and thumbs up her dark shades to eye her welcoming committee.

  The smile is a good sign, and I’m already moving forward when she opens the door, swings her legs out… and my brain short-circuits. Gianna is wearing some kind of floaty sundress thing with teeny-tiny straps that crisscross her shoulders and draw my attention straight to the bare skin beneath. The fabric bunches when she stands up, because her strappy sandals make her long, tanned legs go on for miles. Jace clears his throat roughly and mumbles something that sounds a whole lot like lucky bastard.

  Yeah. I agree with him on that point.

  When Luc moves to greet her, however, I cut him off. This is my territory, my week, and my mate. The other Alpha can take a number and stand in line. I’m the one standing by Gianna’s side today and touching her. Doing whatever she needs done.

  Gianna pauses. Looks between us as if, yeah, she wants to double-check what she’s seeing before she lets her temper rip. I could have warned her that wolves didn’t share well.

  “The two of you are going to make this difficult, aren’t you?” she asks.

  “Oui.” There’s no point in not being honest with her. She gets that little crinkle between her eyes as she processes my one-word answer. I pull her into my arms, ready to kiss away the worry.

  Luc advances—the wolf moves like a fucking ninja—and growls something I can’t catch. He presses up against Gianna’s other side, the three of us skin to skin and none of us budging. When he exhales roughly, I feel that on my skin, know Gianna does too. I’m not happy about our proximity. My wolf insists that Gianna is mine, and I’m pretty damned certain that Luc feels the same way, except he’s swapped his name for mine in that scenario. We’re both possessive bastards. Fuck, we’re both wolves, and wolves don’t share well.

  But Gianna… she shares, and it’s a beautiful thing. She kind of melts into both of us at the same time, and even though I can scent her confusion, read it in the flicker of her eyes as she looks first at me and then back at Luc, her body has a message of its own.

  Excitement.

  She wants this, wants both of us pressed up against her, pushing hard. She’s all sensual acceptance. Delight. Shit. I can’t, won’t, ruin this for her. Instead of backing up, I wrap my hands around her hips and, oui, that pretty dress feels as good as it looks, the fabric silky smooth beneath my fingers.

  Reaching up, she brushes a kiss over Luc’s cheek. He growls, his gaze never leaving mine. “You need to go,” she says to him.

  “One week,” Luc snaps. “That’s how long this particular arrangement gets.”

  “Luc.” She speaks my rival’s name with way too much feeling, but I’m pretty sure she just doesn’t know what else to say. Or do. She clearly feels as awkward as I do, and that’s not what I want for her, not when she’s giving me this gift of time.

  Shit. What if I’ve misread this? What if what she wants is simply to spend a week in protective custody as friends or some other fucking label? Not that I don’t want to be friends with her. I do. It’s just that I want more.

  I want everything.

  All of Gianna, from her sweet body to her heart.

  I especially want her heart.

  Luc’s fingers tighten on her hips. Not hurting her, because the three of us know he wouldn’t do that, not ever and not on purpose, but because he’s feeling the same need I do to make her his. To stake his claim on her.

  “Give me a chance,” he says to Gianna, his voice low and rough. Once again, he’s talking to her as if I’m not present. As if I don’t count for anything in this relationship.

  “You had one,” I snap. And if I’m lucky, you blew it.

  Gianna twists her head, trying to look at both of us. Behind us, Jace growls and paces, clearly itching to go for Luc.

  “Another chance,” Luc says to Gianna. “If you need protectin’, I’m your man.”

  She glares at us as if we’re pack puppies. She doesn’t lack for courage.

  “If I want to keep my job with the DA, I need to play ball with them. They want me in protective custody, so here I am.”

  And here I am.

  Luc makes a frustrated sound. “You’re my mate.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Last time I read the Louisiana state marriage code, a blue moon was not a legal substitute for a justice of peace and two people exchanging wedding vows.”

  Luc snarls, his face a mask of frustration and anger. He’s seconds away from shifting, and then we’ll have that dominance fight on our hands. Part of me yearns to fight for Gianna, to fight in front of her where she can see. The smarter, more human part of me knows that would be a colossal mistake. She’s already stated her anti-werewolf position and I need to ease her in gently.

  I give Luc a look. “You leavin’ now or in the next thirty seconds?”

  Luc’s accompanying Gianna here is a fuck-you of epic proportions because he shouldn’t drive into my territory without permission. Same way that I don’t head into the bayou unless my sheriff duties call me out that way. Apparently neither of us cares much for following the rules, however, which bodes poorly for our packs.

  Luc bares his teeth, not bothering with even a pretense of polite. “You go on in, honey. Cruz and I need to have a little conversation, and then I’ll be goin’.”

  Gianna glares right back, and damned if she doesn’t do some teeth baring of her own. The lack of canines makes the gesture cute, but I’m not dumb enough to tell her that. “You’re not the UPS driver, and I’m not a package. Got that, big guy?”

  GIANNA

  I’ve worked courtrooms filled with less hostility. The way Luc presses against my butt screams ownership, and Cruz pins me from the front. Together, the two of them make one hell of a Gianna sandwich, except neither of my big guys is feeling friendly. Both of them radiate back-the-hell-off vibes, and I suspect I can cue the growling any minute now.

  But the memories… those are hot. Two men held me that night in the bayou, their bodies moving with mine. In me at the
same time. They’d brought some of my darkest fantasies to life, and experiencing those sensations again tops my to-do list. Unfortunately, whatever accord my guys reached that night in our bed is clearly over now. Finito. Done or just plain jacked up. There’s nothing happily ever after about this driveway standoff.

  I meet Cruz’s eyes. “Give me a moment here alone?”

  My question sounds more like a request than it is. To my surprise, though, Cruz nods and actually steps back. Chalk one up for me. I don’t think he’ll give in so easily to all my demands. He’s not called Alpha for nothing, even if he is a sweetheart of a guy and a true Southern gentleman.

  “Oui,” he agrees, and then, miracle of miracles, he actually backs off a few more paces. For a guy who doesn’t say much, he sure packs a punch with his words. He’s giving me permission to finish up with Luc before he takes over. Part of me goes weak at the knees just thinking about that. I’m not a woman who needs a man to take care of me, but it’s tempting to let him. Kind of like deciding I’ve earned a six-foot-plus, hard, yummy treat for the crap hand life recently dealt me. He’s gorgeous. He makes me feel safe. And I… still want him.

  Cruz’s tacit permission is likely intended to rile Luc up even more. I’ve taken a similar tack myself in more than one courtroom, pushing opposing counsel into an outburst by graciously granting them permission to do whatever the fuck it is they were already doing. Funny how Cruz and I have that in common. Together, we will probably drive Luc wild.

  Luc pulls me into a hug, his hands rubbing up and down my back. It feels so good, so right, that I bury my face in his chest to hide the smile I can’t hold back. He’d be happy to hand me back into my car and follow me home. He doesn’t want me here, doesn’t want Cruz in our lives, but I can’t bring myself to let go of Cruz.

  Luc exhales roughly. “You really wan’ to do this?”

  I give him the truth. “I think I need to.”