by Lily Cahill
Grace crooked an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?”
Mateo kept his mouth shut and pushed Grace toward the stairs.
Confusion and a poor night’s sleep made her compliant. She stumped down the stairs, the donut sticking out of her mouth.
Then she froze, and her mouth fell open. Then donut hit the wood floors with a soft plop.
Bret was standing outside the farmhouse door.
Grace tried to back up a step, but Mateo was right there.
“You need to give him a chance.”
A whine built in the back of Grace’s throat. “Mateo, you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I’m making my sister happy.”
“You don’t understand. My fate … the destiny from my vision ….”
“How do you know fate isn’t telling you to be with Bret?”
Grace whirled around. “You know his real name?”
Mateo nodded. “He wants to be with you, Gracie.”
“Our life is complicated enough, Mateo. I just don’t know how someone like Bret fits—”
Mateo sighed. “You deserve to be happy. Just forget about everything for a day. Please.”
Grace turned back around and caught Bret’s eye. His mouth was screwed over to one side, and his brow was furrowed. She could only imagine what she and Mateo looked like through the windows of the big front door. Grace sighed and smoothed her hands down her dress.
One day. One day to forget everything, all her obligations, and just be happy. That sounded nice.
And Bret … lord, but he looked amazing. He was in a blue plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up his tanned forearms. The way the shirt made his blue eyes sparkle made Grace’s heart twist. He smiled hopefully and roughed his hand through his dark, unruly hair.
Grace’s resignation melted.
She paused at the door, then pulled it open.
“Hi,” she said, almost shyly.
Bret grinned wider. “Hi.” He nodded at Mateo still standing behind Grace. “I’ll have her home by eight.”
“See that you do. I’ve got a shotgun and an awful fierce split personality.”
Bret laughed, but Grace sliced a glance Mateo’s way. He was treading way too close to saying what they were. That was the last thing she needed, a virtual stranger knowing her secrets. Okay, so he wasn’t a virtual stranger, but still ….
Bret offered his arm, and Grace pushed aside any doubts. One day.
One day.
Bret opened the door of the borrowed truck—she recognized it as belonging to one of Mateo’s friends—and then slid into the driver’s seat.
“So,” Grace started. “Where have you and Mateo conspired to take me?”
Bret only glanced at her and grinned. They drove out into the rolling hills along a rough dirt road. On all sides, the world bloomed with spring. The storm from the night before had left the earth fresh, the new plants lush and green. Bret eased the truck into a wide turn, and Grace gasped.
Bluebonnets. As far as she could see, the gorgeous wildflowers turned the rolling prairie into a deep blue sea. Bret stopped the truck and jogged around the back to open her door. She took his hand, energy snapping between them, and jumped down to the ground.
The bluebonnets were nearly up to her thighs, and they whispered gently around the hem of her butter yellow dress.
“Oh, Bret,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “This is amazing.”
Bret returned from the bed of the truck with a big blanket under one arm, a large wicker basket in the other, and his guitar case slung across his back. He shifted everything to offer his hand, then led her into the flowers.
They waded into the wildflowers, until all Grace could see was a cornflower sky overhead and the sapphire flowers all around.
And Bret.
Bret leading her into heaven. Grace squeezed his hand, and he glanced behind at her. “You like it?”
Grace could only nod.
Bret spread out the blanket at the bottom of a little gully and unpacked the basket as Grace sat down. He’d packed fruit, almonds, some cheese and bread. Plus fries and a peach turnover from Darlene’s, and some cold beer.
Bret sat down beside her and her hand in his. He peered at her with hope naked in his expression.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about destiny since last night, Grace. About … us.”
Grace pressed her lips together. She had never hoped the vision of her fated mate was wrong more than right then.
“I thought for a long time that I was meant to be alone, that I was fated to see my family find love, start families while I stayed on the sidelines. But,” Bret stopped. He took a deep breath and squeezed Grace’s hand. “But I think maybe destiny or fate or whatever you want to call it. It’s not the final word. We need to choose what we want in this life. And I want you.”
Grace looked down, blinking hard. God, she wanted the same thing. Could she do it? Could she deny the bear that fate said was her destiny and choose Bret? As she thought it, certainty rolled through her like a spring storm. It washed away her doubts, her fears, until all she was left with was calm, assured certainty.
What she felt for Bret went beyond anything she had ever experienced in her life. Grace looked up into Bret’s searching eyes and nodded.
Bret pushed forward onto his knees and pulled Grace to him. He cupped her face and pressed his forehead to hers.
“We’ll give this a chance. To hell with destiny,” he whispered.
“To hell with destiny,” Grace affirmed.
Then his lips were on hers, searing and urgent.
Grace threaded her fingers into his hair and held him close. She deepened their kiss, leaned into it with everything she had in her. Bret ran his hands down her body, leaving a trail of heat that made Grace shiver with desire.
Bret grabbed hold of her ass and hauled her into his lap. God, she felt so at home there, with his arms around her and his lips melded with hers. The heat from his roving fingers coalesced in her core, until she was blazing with need.
Grace ground her wet heat against his dick and threw her head back. Bret’s lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking as he kissed her lower and lower. Grace moaned and let her head and arms go limp, to revel completely in Bret’s strong arms around her.
With one quick hand, he tugged open the buttons at the top of her dress, exposing more and more of her breasts. His lips followed his fingers, until his breath fluttered against her hard nipples. A tug of fabric, then her breast was free.
Bret groaned and lapped at her nipple. He pulled it between his teeth and sucked at her. A glorious ache throbbed through Grace at the sensation, and she rubbed herself up and down against Bret’s straining cock.
Grace fell forward and yanked Bret’s head back to her mouth, kissing him deeply. He groaned against her lips, the sound rumbling and deep. It drove Grace nearly wild with desire.
She ripped his shirt open, running her hands down his hard chest, his muscled stomach, to the band of his jeans. She tugged those open too, then pulled his massive dick from his boxer briefs. Bret let his weight fall back onto his arms and shut his eyes, his lips parted. Grace wrapped her small hand around his cock and slid down the length of him. His dick was hard and smooth, and Bret thrust his hips in time with her adoring attention.
She loved giving him this attention, seeing the ecstasy written on his face. But her own desire was a storm inside of her, and she needed to find release.
“Condom,” she managed, her throat tight.
Bret yanked out his wallet and pulled one free, and Grace tore it open and rolled it down his dick. Then she tugged aside her soaked panties and poised herself atop Bret. She braced one hand against his shoulder, then slid down onto him.
Grace moaned loudly as he slid deep into her. God, she could feel him fill her up completely. It was the most agonizingly perfect sensation she’d ever experienced. Bret grabbed hold of Grace’s ass, kneading her flesh as she rod
e his dick.
Faster now, deeper. Grace pumped up and down on his cock, each driving thrust of him inside her pushing her closer and closer to the torrent building inside her. Grace threw her head back and cried out in ecstasy.
Bret wrapped his arms around her back so she arched and brought her breast to his mouth. He sucked and nipped at her as her arousal built and built.
“Come with me,” Bret grunted, his mouth hot against her nipple.
And she did. The storm inside her broke and raged through her body, and Grace let it roar through her. She cried out as her orgasm took hold, and she felt Bret’s entire body go taut. He groaned and found his own release, then they tumbled to the ground together.
They lay on the blanket, chests heaving, limbs heavy. After a long while, Grace curled into her side and played her fingers up Bret’s chest. He looked down at her, his eyelids half-shut.
“That was amazing,” she whispered with a sleepy smile.
“Amazing,” Bret repeated.
Grace was nearly asleep when she heard his whisper, “amazing, my love.”
When Grace opened her eyes, the sun was nearly overhead. She stretched languidly and sat up. Her stomach growled in hunger, and she eyed the food. She was just about to reach for the now-cold fries when Bret groaned.
“Save some for me,” he said, his voice low and scratchy. He was unbearably cute like this, just waking up.
He pushed up to sit and plucked a handful of grapes. They ate in comfortable silence, the only sound the sweet swaying of the bluebonnets all around and the birds chirping in the cottonwoods.
Finally sated, Bret reached across the blanket and grabbed his guitar case. He pulled out his guitar, then, with a shy smile, handed Grace a sheet of music.
Her eyes flew over the music, then she caught sight of the words scrawled at the top: For Grace.
She looked up at Bret and met his anxious gaze. “I thought …,” he started. He strummed the guitar for a second. “I thought we could sing this together.”
Grace was so overcome she could only nod. He’d written music for her. No one had ever done something so nice.
With Bret playing softly on the guitar, they raised their voices together. The music took hold, and they sang louder. Grace swayed to the beat, keeping time on her thigh. Their voices twined together, lifted together, rich and sweet. Alone, they each had a raw talent that was undeniable. But together … together they were amazing.
By the end, they were both smiling, staring at each other.
“Grace,” Bret started.
Grace nodded. “We really have something here, don’t we?”
Bret smiled, but then he frowned. “Not just that. There are things …. I need to tell you the truth about who I am.”
Grace twisted her hands together and looked into her lap. “There are things I need to tell you too, Bret.”
“No,” Bret said. “I mean, there are things about me that are kind of hard to believe. But I’ve got to tell you, Grace. I need to—”
All around them, the world split open with low, threatening growls.
Grace gasped, scrambling over the blanket toward Bret. Through the swaying bluebonnets, a dozen golden wolf eyes burned savage and bright.
No. No.
One by one, wolves stepped into their little paradise. She recognized them: Carver, Tuco, the Espinosa twins, and more. Surrounding them. Teeth bared, eyes sharp. Adrenaline flooded Grace. She had to protect Bret. She had to save him.
Without thinking, she shifted. All around, the wolves went mad, their hackles raised. But they weren’t growling at Grace.
Grace felt a massive presence beside her. She could smell thick fur, a primal, alpha scent that she usually only associated with Tuco as leader of her pack.
Slowly, Grace turned.
Bret was gone, and in his place was the bear. The bear from her visions. Confusion made her blink quickly, and the bear made a low rumble in his throat. Oddly, she could understand the meaning. He was trying to reassure her. He was really Bret.
Bret, soulmate.
Chapter Twelve
Bret
INSTINCTS HAD TAKEN OVER.
BRET shifted into his bear form without a second thought.
And so had Grace.
So.
Had.
Grace.
She was a wolf shifter. Bret tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing, but there was no time for that.
The wolves surrounded them snapped their maws and growled. The biggest wolf, a light gray beast that the others looked to as their alpha, had a hideous scar down its muzzle that turned one eye milky white.
The man from the bar, the one that Grace had seemed so frightened of. Bret searched his memory for the man’s name. Tuco. The look in the Tuco’s eyes now spoke only of rage, of death.
Bret dug his claws into the shredded blanket under his feet and bared his teeth. Beside him, he felt Grace as her wolf stand close. She was smaller than him, the top of her ears only coming up to his giant shoulders, but he could feel the ferocity quivering off her every movement.
With a howl from the Tuco, the pack leader, the wolves sprang. Bret roared and rose to his hind legs. He swiped out with one powerful paw and slammed an attacking wolf to the ground. The beast squealed in pain and scrambled away. But there were more coming, more tearing at him and Grace with claws and teeth. Bret and Grace fought with tooth and claw, until only three wolves faced them.
Bret felt Grace’s warm body pressed up next to him, and it gave him strength. He had to protect them both. Then with a horrible snarl, Grace lunged at one of the attacking wolves, a sandy-colored animal, and sank her teeth into the creature’s shoulder. She shook her head back and forth, and too late Bret saw a second wolf leap at her.
Bret roared and charged, getting his thick shoulder under the animals flank right before he could shred Grace’s back. Bret flipped his head and sent the wolf sailing through the air. In the confusion, Grace must have let go of her prey. She yelped in pain as the sandy-colored wolf slashed its claws down her flank.
Before Bret could stop the beast, it grabbed hold of the scruff of Grace’s neck and flipped her to the ground.
In a second, Grace shifted and screamed.
“Carver!” There was blood seeping through her ruined yellow dress and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Carver, stop!”
The wolf looming over her shifted back to his human form. It was the brute Bret had sent packing just a few days ago, the one that seemed off, wrong.
Bret charged forward, but the final wolf, Tuco, rounded on him. Its teeth were bared, and it stood between Bret and Grace.
Everything happened so quickly. So horribly quickly.
Carver wrapped his meaty hands around Grace’s neck and yanked her off the ground, then he slammed her head back into the earth. She shrieked in pain, a horrific, primal sound, then fell silent.
Bret roared and flung Tuco away. He had to get to her … she had to be all right.
Bret shifted as he ran and collapsed to the ground beside Grace. She was so still, her face drained of color. Yet all the color spreading across her dress. Blood red. Bret could only see red.
Carver screamed, tried to haul Bret away from Grace. Bret snapped his head toward the monster—even more of a monster now that he was wearing his human skin—and snarled. He didn’t have words. Only rage.
Bret pulled Grace into his lap, terrified of what he might find. His fingers went to her neck, but he was shaking so badly, he couldn’t find her pulse. Behind him, he heard Carver scream again, and Tuco growl, but none of that mattered.
There. A pulse. Bret nearly cried in relief as Grace moaned softly and stirred. He held her close, kept her safe.
“Is she dead?” Carver shrieked.
Bret looked up at the man, but there was no humanity left in him. His eyes were wide and feral, and his teeth were bared.
“She deserves to die. If she’s not mine ….” Carver whirled to face Tuco. “You
said she’d be mine. After everything I’ve done for the cause, for your family.” Carver’s shoulders were heaving, his neck red with rage. He beat his fist against his chest. “I was the one who made you realize what you could do, Tuco. I was the one who sacrificed Maria and Eduardo to the cause. And this is how the Espinosas repay me for my loyalty?”
Espinosa. The name wriggled down into Bret’s heart and turned black. Espinosa? Was Grace …?
In a flash, Tuco snarled and leapt at Carver. The wolf sank his teeth into Carver’s neck and ripped his throat out. The man dropped to the ground with a stomach-churning gurgle, and his eyes fluttered closed in death.
Still in his arms, Grace gasped in shock and scrambled to sit up. Her eyes were wide and her mouth twisted in pain.
“Tuco,” she whispered, her gaze flicking between the dead man on the ground and her cousin. “What did you do?”
Tuco shifted and stood over Carver’s body. His head hung low, and his chest shuddered up and down. The man pressed his palm to his eyes and stood frozen for a moment, but then he straightened up. The lines of his face were etched with hatred, and his limbs shook with anger.
“I was staying loyal to my family, Grace,” Tuco hissed, his voice shaking with violence. “And what were you doing? You were fucking a Hart.”
Grace blinked quickly, her mouth falling open.
“Bret … Hart?” She looked at him, shock and betrayal in her eyes.
Tuco laughed, and it crawled over Bret’s skin like worms. He pointed at Bret. “And you. You realize she’s an Espinosa. She was there the night we attacked your brothers, the night of the fire. Ask her what happened. Ask her what we did to them.”
Bret’s blood ran cold, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. What was he talking about? What had happened to his brothers?
Was that why they hadn’t come after him?
Sourness burned up Bret’s throat. God, what had he done?
What the hell had he done?
Tuco stalked closer, then stopped and glared down at Grace. “I’ll give you one more chance to pick this family over your enemy. Over a bear. One more chance, Grace. Then you become my enemy.”
