“Fine!” she yelled. “Pussy! Pussy! Pussy! You happy now?”
The humor in his eyes died down. He looked…hungry.
“Veronica?” Patsy said from behind her. “Everything all right out here?”
She deflated. And spun around. “Yes. Everything’s fine. The bouquet?”
“The bride approved it.”
“Thank you, Pussy.” Veronica’s stomach flipped. “I mean Patsy. Thank you, Patsy.”
Smacking her forehead, Veronica snatched her bag off the floor and stormed out the door. She didn’t look back. But when an allergic symphony of sneezing and groaning rang out behind her, Veronica knew Logan had followed her out.
Chapter Seven
“Come on, pick up.” Veronica stood against the brick wall of the floral shop building, her phone glued to her ear. “Come on, Leah.”
Logan was sitting in his truck not twenty feet away, checking out something lying in his lap. Veronica prayed he was playing with his phone.
“Hey V!” Leah’s voice never sounded sweeter. “What’s up?”
“Did you know Jake hired Logan to follow me around?”
“Logan just texted Jake and warned us you’d be calling. I just found out what happened, Veronica, and you better believe Jake will hear it from me when this is over. He should’ve told me.” Leah sighed, covered the phone and hollered something at Jake. “If I’d known what was going on, I wouldn’t have left. But for the record, I did tell you that a secret admirer is creepy, right?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Any guy who likes you is going to say so.”
Veronica rubbed her forehead. “I know, I know.”
“On the bright side, Jake said Logan was the best bodyguard in Seattle. They used to be in the Marines together, so I think everything’s going to be okay.”
“But Jake told you everything, and you think it’s a good idea for Logan to be following me around?” Veronica smoothed down the flyaways on top of her head. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Another long sigh. “V, the guy sending you all those notes is crazy. I guess he left a box of wolf hair on your doorstep and a note that talked about turning you into a werewolf…like what happened to me. The note went on and on about how the pain would eventually turn to happiness, and how it’s what you’ve been asking for. Totally twisted.”
“What? Wait, wait, slow down. How does he know—I mean, I didn’t see anything like that. The only notes I’ve gotten have been really sweet.”
“Remember the night of our engagement party? You stayed late to talk to that guy about reserving the rehearsal site for our wedding and we went back to the house to set up the after-party? Remember how Jake told everyone that they should go out instead?”
Veronica nodded, fully aware Leah couldn’t see her. “He said he wasn’t feeling well, and asked to sleep on my couch. He insisted you go out with everyone else and call when you got home.”
“I guess that was so you wouldn’t be alone. He didn’t want me there in case the guy came back, and he thought he could handle it without freaking you out.”
“What the hell, Leah? Seriously!” Logan’s gaze snapped her way, as if he could hear the hysteria in her voice. “Why couldn’t he tell me the truth?”
Her sister’s voice turned meek. “He said you already freak out about werewolves so much, and you’d never give him the benefit of the doubt if a werewolf was stalking you. You already think we’re all evil.”
True.
“And that’s not the way it is,” Leah said. “He wants you to like him, to really think of him as family.”
“You’re my family.” Veronica’s heart pinched. “You’re the only family I’ve got.”
And you were turned into a werewolf, too.
“Jake wants to be considered a part of our family, if you’d let him. Although I don’t like the idea of him keeping the stalker thing from me, I can understand why he wanted to keep it from you. Besides, he says you were never in any danger—not with Logan beside you.”
She hated to admit it, but Jake was right. She would’ve freaked. Hell, she was freaking now. The idea of a werewolf following her around sent shivers up her spine.
Maybe she could get on board with Logan protecting her. Maybe.
The only saving grace to all of this was that Jake and Logan knew each other from the Marines, and not from the wolf pack. If Jake had assigned a werewolf to protect her while another werewolf was stalking her, she’d kill him.
“I’m not saying that I agree with this,” Veronica said, eying Logan. He was sitting in the truck with the visor pulled down, checking out his teeth in the mirror. “But you’ve got to answer one question for me.”
“Anything.”
Veronica studied the long swoop of bone that made up Logan’s jaw, and the way a dark flop of hair brushed his ears.
“Does Logan know about werewolves?”
Two beats.
“Yes, Jake’s his best friend. Of course he knows.”
“And…is he one?” He’d certainly be the most gorgeous werewolf she’d ever seen. He’d still be filthy, mangy, and unnatural, but he’d be a hottie to boot.
Say no, say no, say no.
“You’re my sister, and I know how much you hate the idea that there are werewolves out there.” Her sister’s voice went soft over the line. “I’d tell you if you were in danger the second I found out.”
“You didn’t answer the question, Leah.”
“No, Logan Black is not a wolf.” Leah was smiling as she talked. “Now let’s talk about something a little more upbeat…how’s our wedding coming along?
…
“This is all your fault, you know.” Logan put down his tray of fish and chips and straddled the picnic table bench. He popped two allergy pills and chased them with a long drag of water. “I may be a sneezing wreck, but you are one manipulative woman. For a while there I thought you were going to chain me to the fridge holding all the flowers.”
Veronica took a bite of her fried fish and watched the ships go through the locks into Salmon Bay. “Yeah, well, you should’ve told me that Jake hired you. You deserved whatever you got.”
“Deserve is a harsh word,” Logan said with a mouthful. “I think this situation will go much more smoothly this week if we forget about what happened last night. Wipe the slate clean.”
“I agree,” Veronica answered too quickly, then took another bite of fish. “What happened was a mistake. I’d take it back if I could.”
Logan nodded and stared into the channel as a barge passed through. Veronica thought he wanted to add something to what she’d said, but she gave him a few minutes, and he remained silent.
She still didn’t know how she was going to handle this. Every time she glanced at Logan, images of him doing dirty things to her on her living room floor flashed through her mind. And every time he brushed against her, chills scampered up her arms. Hopefully he was as good as Jake insisted he was, and he’d find the wolf responsible before too long…
One major bonus: Logan had offered to take Veronica to her car after lunch, which meant she’d save cab fare.
“After I got off the phone with Leah,” Veronica said, watching Logan carefully, “she shot me a text telling me not to report the stalker’s behavior to the police.”
“She’s right.” He wiped crumbs off his mouth. “Going to Seattle PD isn’t an option. I’ll send the latest note to a friend of Jake’s who’ll analyze it. We should know if it was penned in blood or ink by the end of the day.”
“But why not go to the police? That seems like the natural thing to do.”
“Jake wanted to keep this whole thing from you for two reasons: so you wouldn’t hate wolves more than you already do, and so the police wouldn’t start sniffing around where they don’t belong. He doesn’t want them getting close to discovering his pack.”
Veronica finished off her chips. “They wouldn’t know the guy is a werewolf. I’d report suspicious behavior
and they’d make reports on what they found. At least there’d be a paper trail. If something happened I could call 911 and they’d come pick him up.”
“What if your stalker leaves another box of wolf hair? The police could start asking questions, and piece things together with other wolf sightings I’m sure they have on record.”
“Yeah,” Veronica said on a laugh, “I’m sure the cops will look at the hair and jump to the conclusion that there are werewolves in Seattle. Yeah, uh-huh. They’ll probably think Bigfoot lives in Wenatchee Forest, the Loch Ness Monster swims around in the Puget Sound and vampires roam Pike Place Market after dark. Not freaking likely, Logan. They’ll probably dismiss it as dog hair and do their job: search for the stalker.”
He leveled her with a humorless stare. “And when they find him?”
“He goes to jail and you’re free to guard, protect, and serve, or whatever it is you do, to the next damsel in distress.”
He leaned across the table. “Do you really think we want to take a chance that your stalker plays by the rules? That he gives half a shit about keeping the wolf pack’s secrets? He’s broken pack law and as such, has gone rogue. At least that’s what Jake told me.” He cleared his throat. “The guy could shift into a werewolf while in custody. Tear through the department. Start widespread panic. The entire wolf pack would have to uproot.”
“I think you’re being extreme.”
“Jake wants to be cautious, and for good reason.” He leaned back and shoved a chip into his mouth. “It’s how the Seattle Wolf Pack has remained in secret for this long. It’s the way they do things…from what I understand, anyway. Secrets are a part of the game.”
Veronica supposed that she understood. And now that Leah was a part of the wolf pack, she wouldn’t want them to have to move to keep their secret. Veronica stared at her half-eaten lunch, wondering how many more things Jake and Logan weren’t telling her.
“Speaking of secrets,” he said, “when you talked to your sister, did you mention…anything?”
“If you mean did I mention you, of course I did. But if you mean about what happened between us last night, I didn’t. Like I said, I’d rather forget all about it. If I mention what happened to my sister, it’s liable to be immortalized in one of her books.”
“Just checking.” Logan finished off his Coke and straddled the bench to face her. “Did she ask about the wedding planning?”
“Yeah, but she wasn’t asking because she really cared. She was changing the subject.”
“She must really trust that you’ll take care of everything.”
“That’s not it.” She bit off a chunk of fried fish. “It’s because she always pushes everything off on me.”
It’d always been this way. It didn’t take long for their parents to realize Veronica was the responsible one, the one they could trust to get things done right the first time. Guess it was easier to have Veronica clean and cook than it was to fix Leah’s mistakes time and time again. When they were in high school, Veronica was always stuck “helping” Leah with her homework. Translation? Leah got straight A’s, but if it hadn’t been for Veronica’s fancy handiwork—and texting answers to her from the bathroom during finals—those grades would’ve been in the toilet. Leah was too busy flirting with the quarterback of the football team to care about homework…so her parents had asked Veronica to help her out. It was no surprise that Leah pawned off the details of her wedding onto Veronica. Especially since Veronica owned the company. Bottom line: Veronica loved her sister, and since they’d lost their parents, they only had each other.
Logan crushed his napkin in his fist. “Tell me, Veronica Vale of Veronica Vale Weddings, you surround yourself with bridal bliss all day long, every day of the week. Why haven’t you locked your chain around a groom’s ankle yet?”
She shrugged. “Guess I haven’t found the right guy.”
“Must not have been looking very long.”
Was that a compliment? Was he saying she could find someone easily? “That’s not true. I’ve been keeping my eye open. I’ve always wanted to settle down and have a family. My sister, on the other hand, never wanted to get married. In two weeks, she’ll be off the market.”
“Funny how things change when love gets in the way. Don’t worry, you’ll find someone soon enough. You can’t be more than…what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Ah, you’re still a pup.” Logan tensed. His shoulders pulled back, his jaw clenched, and he took deep breaths of air through his nose. Bizarre. He brushed crumbs off his hands and didn’t touch the rest of his lunch. He should’ve been starving—sneezing fits were sure to work up an appetite. “How long have you been in the wedding business?”
“Five years.” She spun her empty Coke cup in her hand. “I started as an assistant for another local company, and built my client list off of recommendations.”
“I’m sure you’ve got your wedding all planned out by now.”
“Oh yeah,” Veronica said, as a family of four passed by their table. “I want it all: the big puffy dress, the cathedral train, the church, five hundred guests with table assignments. I’m ready.”
Logan didn’t meet her eyes. “All lies.”
“How would you know? I do want those things.”
“Nah, you won’t have any of that.”
She was lying, but how did he know? “If I’m planning weddings every weekend all year long, my own wedding should be spectacular—one to top them all, shouldn’t it?”
When he finally met her gaze, his gray eyes burned hot. “I think that’s precisely the reason you’d want something small and intimate. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had thoughts of eloping.”
She had. How did he know that about her? She’d never told anyone. Logan’s insight drew Veronica’s stomach tight. “I don’t think you know me, or what I want, at all.”
The corner of his lips pulled into a smile, reminding Veronica of the bad boys she’d seen on TV when they were about to say something deviously sexy. “You’re right. I don’t know you. I don’t know what kind of wedding you dream of having, or why the relationship with your sister is the way that it is. But I do know what you want. I know what turns you on, and what turns you off, and that should count for something.”
Air caught in Veronica’s throat and her stomach went all topsy-turvy. How could Logan shake her up this easily? Was it the smolder behind those eyes? That strong, square jaw showing a hint of stubble? Logan shouldn’t have this kind of control over her, damn it! She needed to flip the tables! She smothered down the feelings fluttering deep in her belly and swiveled around on the bench to face him. She crossed her legs, drawing his attention there, and leaned forward so that he could look down her shirt if he let his gaze drift a bit.
“Logan?” she asked, lowering her voice so that it came out as a purr.
“Um-hmm?” He made the sound from his throat, as if he couldn’t find the strength to open his mouth.
“You knew what turned me on and what turned me off.” She cupped his cheek in her hand, then patted. “You knew, sweetheart. Know implies the present tense, and we won’t be going there again.”
As his gaze zoned far over her shoulder, his face fell.
“What is it?” She craned her neck to look behind her. People strolled by, mostly tourists wearing sweatshirts and pants—travelers visiting Washington often didn’t expect the chilly summer days—with their cameras pointed at the water rising in the lock. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I saw something.” Leaning down, Logan tugged on something in his boot, then straightened. “I’m finished with lunch. Are you ready?”
“I guess.”
Logan scooped up their plates and tossed them into the trash, then pulled her by the hand. It was the first time he’d ever reached for her like that. His touch buzzed with electricity, shooting currents of bristly heat up her arm. His pace was quick, and they’d only made it a few steps before Veronica felt
like she was being ushered away from a crime scene.
“What are you doing?” She asked, as he opened the passenger door to the truck. “Why are we rushing? We have plenty of time to pick up my car. If something’s wrong, tell me.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Logan slammed the door shut and practically ran around the hood. He opened the door, brought the truck roaring to life, and slammed the gearshift into reverse. “I think your car is ready now, and there’s no reason to sit around here if I’m picking up a strange vibe.”
“Okay.” There was more to it than that. “But I’d like to get there in one piece.”
“That’s all I’m trying to do,” he said.
The truck lurched into first gear, groaning as Logan pounded on the gas pedal. Veronica grabbed the oh-shit handle and slid across the seat as Logan spun out of the parking lot and headed for the freeway.
Chapter Eight
Logan dropped Veronica at the car dealership and stayed outside while she went in to sign some paperwork and pay the bill. He kept his eye on the rearview mirror, searching for any sign of the stalker.
Werewolves picked up more than common scents—they sensed heightened emotions, which were translated into different smells. Arousal or attraction was sweet and floral. Disdain or anger was bitter. Fear was sharp and crisp, often burning the nose. Hostility—what Logan picked up down at the locks—smelled like wet ash, pungent and nasty.
He’d picked up the stalker’s scent at the dock, but at the dealership…nothing.
Over lunch, Logan had spotted several people he thought might’ve been the guy following Veronica around, but none of them gave off the scent of a wolf. There was the guy with dark hair and binoculars standing at the edge of the waterway, leaning against the wooden rail. There was the guy buying hot dogs at the vendor down the street. And the guy sitting on a turned-over milk crate, playing a tune on the violin. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the scent was coming from, but the longer he and Veronica sat at the table, the stronger the smell of anger became. When Veronica had faced him, swiveling around to play up her gorgeous assets, the unmistakable scent of jealousy smacked into him like a rancid gust of wind.
Four Weddings and a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) Page 6
