Werewolves Only: Crescent City Wolf Pack Book One

by Carrie Pulkinen

  A cool breeze snaked up his arm and whispered into his ear, “Shut up, moron. You liked it. I can hear your thoughts, remember?”

  Tremors shook his body as a deep sob escaped his throat. “I liked the way it felt. I didn’t like hurting that girl.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luke was ready for his date with Macey by six o’clock, but he wasn’t picking her up until eight. She had him so wound up, he couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing under the kitchen table. He got up and paced the room. He needed a distraction, something to occupy his mind for the next two hours until he saw her again.

  Why the hell was he so nervous? He’d gone out with her before; he’d made love to her for Christ’s sake. Maybe the nerves were a warning from his subconscious to guard his heart. Nah, it was too late for that. His heart belonged to Macey, even though his old man had made it clear she was off limits. But he couldn’t help himself. He had to see her again. He was still holding on to that tiny sliver of hope that things could work out.

  He switched on the TV and flipped through the channels to the local evening news. A little doom and gloom would keep his brain busy while he waited. He plopped down on the sofa and rested his feet on the coffee table, but the screen didn’t distract him from his thoughts. This was their first real date. The times before had been spontaneous…well, he’d followed her on purpose, but what had happened afterward had been spontaneous. This date had been planned. He’d called her and asked her out, and she’d said yes. And that made it so much more real.

  He focused on the television. A journalist stood outside a hotel on Canal Street, her grim expression revealing the seriousness of the story she reported. He turned up the volume.

  “…though the circumstances are different in last night’s attack, the perpetrator had one thing in common with the others. The victim claimed he had red eyes.”

  “Shit!” Luke jumped to his feet. Why didn’t he know about this one yet? A police composite sketch filled the screen, and he snapped a picture of it with his phone. Either the demons were getting smarter, taking their victims indoors, or this was the human who’d been summoning them. He had to warn the pack.

  As he entered the bar, Chase and Stephen stood near the TV, the volume blasting to drown out the music. Another reporter told the same story on a different channel.

  “You see this, man?” Chase said. “It’s all over the news. Can’t believe we missed one.”

  Stephen crossed his arms, tightening his jaw. “We wouldn’t have missed it if I were in charge. Maybe we need to call your daddy, so a real alpha can handle this.”

  Luke glared at his cousin, holding eye contact to exert his dominance. Stephen returned his gaze, challenging him with his stare. Tension thickened between them as Luke took a step forward. The last thing they needed was to fight amongst themselves when they shared a common goal, but an alpha had to take every challenge seriously.

  “Don’t you have some accounting to do in the back?” Luke said. “I’m sure if you walk away now, I can forget this ever happened.”

  Fear flashed in Stephen’s eyes, his resolve seeming to waver, but he didn’t tear his gaze away from Luke’s. He fisted his hands at his sides and gritted his teeth.

  Luke took another step forward. “Or are we going to have a problem?”

  Stephen let out his breath in a slow hiss, his challenging posture deflating. “No. We’re good.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, ending the confrontation.

  Luke turned to Chase. “I’m texting you the police sketch. Send it to everyone on the team. This guy’s M.O. is different, and that makes me think it might be the leader.”

  Chase’s phone chimed. “Got it. You headed out for your date?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Shirt’s ironed. No holes in your jeans.” He shrugged. “Pretty damn obvious.”

  Stephen stepped from behind the bar. “You’re going out with the cop?”

  “Yeah. I am. Got a problem with that?”

  “Alphas can’t mate with humans.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  Stephen shook his head and stormed through the door to the office.

  Chase grinned. “Seems like he’d be happy if you mated with a human. With you out of the way, he’d be free to run his reign of terror.”

  Luke sank onto a barstool, a heaviness sinking in his heart. “She’s not going to be my mate.” And that was the truth, wasn’t it? No matter how strongly he cared for Macey, she wasn’t a werewolf.

  “Then why are you going out with her?”

  He traced the wood grain on the bar. “You know…to lead her away from the truth. Keep her from finding out too much.”

  Chase raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.”

  “What am I supposed to do, man? She’s incredible. I can’t let a girl like her get away.” He drummed his fingers on the wood. There had to be something he could do…

  Macey freshened up her makeup for the fourth time and sipped a glass of chardonnay. Liquid relaxation pooled in her core and flowed out to her limbs, a welcome relief from the tension she’d carried in her muscles all day. Luke said he’d pick her up at eight, and she’d been a nervous wreck since he’d called. Butterflies flitted in her stomach just thinking about him.

  An actual planned date with the man of her dreams. Wait…was he the man of her dreams? He was all she thought about, so he must be.

  Thor jumped onto the bathroom counter and mewed for her attention. She stroked his soft brown fur, and his body vibrated with a satisfied purr.

  She finished her wine, letting the soothing liquid calm her nerves. Running her fingers through her hair, she tousled the roots to give it volume. Luke had mentioned he liked her hair down. Would he remember saying that? Would he think she was trying too hard? Maybe she should put it up. She’d be more comfortable in her usual bun anyway.

  She reached for her brush, and the doorbell rang. Crap! He’s here. Thor jumped from the counter and darted under her bed. Macey checked her reflection one last time and padded into the living room. “Coming.”

  She opened the door, and her breath caught at the sight of him. He wore dark jeans and a deep blue shirt that matched his eyes. A crooked grin lit up his face as he offered her a bouquet of lemon-yellow daisies.

  “They match your dress.”

  “Hmm?” She took the flowers and inhaled their sweet fragrance. “Oh, yeah. I guess they do. Thank you. Do you want to come inside?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Actually, we have a dinner reservation at eight-fifteen, so we should get going.”

  “Okay. Let me put these in some water.” She trotted to the kitchen, shoved the bouquet in an empty vase and grabbed her purse. She’d worry about the water later. Right now, the only thing on her mind was the gorgeous hunk on her doorstep.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he opened the truck door for her.

  “Captain Boudreaux’s, if that’s okay with you.” He closed the door behind her and got in the driver’s seat.

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  They rode in silence up St. Charles, Luke kneading the steering wheel while Macey’s leg bounced up and down. She rested her hand on her knee to stop the movement and tried to think of something to say. He’d always been so easy to talk to before, but now he seemed different. Distracted. She tugged on her bottom lip and swallowed the dryness out of her mouth.

  “Is everything okay? You’re quiet tonight,” she said.

  He glanced at her and relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nah.” He reached for her hand, and all the tension drained from her body. How could a simple touch have such an effect on her?

  “You look beautiful. I love it when you wear your hair down.” He slid his hand up the back of her neck, his fingers combing through her hair. Her heart stuttered at the intimacy of his touch, and heat pooled b
elow her navel. He glanced at her with palpable hunger in his eyes before returning his hand to the steering wheel. It was a good thing he hadn’t come inside when she’d asked. They probably wouldn’t have made it out of the house.

  When they arrived at the restaurant, a line of people stretched out the door and around the corner of the Victorian style structure. Lavender and white striped awnings hung above the windows, matching the purple siding and white trim of the building.

  “Looks like we’ll be waiting a while,” Macey said.

  Luke grinned. “No worries. They know me here.” He led her past the line of hungry patrons and ushered her through the door.

  “Local celebrity?”

  “Nah. I did the remodel after the last hurricane. They got eight feet of water inside. Almost tore the place down, but my team was able to restore it. The manager’s a friend of mine.”

  As they entered the dining room, Macey’s breath caught. Vaulted ceilings revealed exposed wood beams stained dark chocolate brown. Crystal chandeliers hung from above, filling the room with pale, warm light. Framed black-and-white photos of famous New Orleans buildings adorned an exposed brick wall, obviously original to the nineteenth-century structure. How many stories could this old building tell? And they’d almost torn it down.

  “You did all this? It’s beautiful.” She picked up a menu.

  “Me and a crew of thirty men.” He scanned the room, eyes gleaming. “I’m glad we were able to restore it. Our city’s so rich in history. It breaks my heart when we have to bulldoze a building.”

  She grinned at him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s…you have a soft side. Artistic. I wasn’t expecting it.” She folded her menu on the table and took a sip of water.

  “Well, you’re a lot different than I expected too.”

  She raised an eyebrow and rested her hands on the table. “And how did you expect me to be?” She braced herself for his answer, unsure if she really wanted to know.

  “Cocky. All business. You know the type.” He reached for her hands across the table. “But you’re not like that at all.”

  Electricity tingled up her arms. Her heart fluttered, and she leaned in, the urge to close the distance between them overwhelming. “What am I like then?”

  He leaned in to match her posture and held her with a piercing gaze. “Kind. Caring. Beautiful. Amazing…in the bedroom and out.”

  It took every ounce of control she could muster to keep herself from climbing over the table and throwing herself into his arms. Simply touching him sent her body into overdrive. She leaned back and fanned herself with the menu. “Is it hot in here?”

  A sly smile curved his lips. “No, I think it’s just you.”

  The rest of their dinner went by in a blur. She was so caught up in this incredible man, she’d forgotten what she ordered by the time the food arrived. The line still stretched out the door as they left the restaurant, and they strolled hand-in-hand down Frenchman Street.

  They stopped in front of a squat brown building with a red door. A saxophone’s sad wail drifted to the street from somewhere inside. Live music was abundant in this part of town, tucked away from the flashy neon lights and cover music of Bourbon Street. A simple wooden sign above the door advertised the name of the establishment: Louie’s. This was the street locals went to for live music. None of those annoying hawkers trying to lure people into bars with the promise of cheap, watered down drinks and scantily-clad women.

  “Do you like Blues? Or Jazz?” Luke asked.

  “Love it.”

  “Good.” He opened the door and led her inside.

  A dozen people filled the chairs of the small room. Strings of pale white lights hung from low ceilings, giving the establishment a cozy feel. A sax, a bass, and a baby grand piano sat upon a tiny stage, their players belting out a soulful rendition of “Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans.” Luke led her to an empty table near the stage and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He absently traced his fingers along her skin as he hummed along to the tune.

  The band finished the number and announced a short break as a rough-looking man approached Luke. His jeans were torn and paint-stained, his shirt yellowing with sweat. His unkempt hair was greasy, and anger filled his eyes. He didn’t speak, but his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared at Luke.

  Luke sighed. “Will you excuse me for a minute, Macey?”

  “Sure.” She watched the exchange, though she couldn’t hear what they said. The man’s sharp gestures and accusing posture would have intimidated most people. Luke kept his cool, though she could tell he was agitated. He said something that appeared to appease the man, gave him a tight smile, and returned to the table.

  “Sorry about that. Work drama.” He settled in next to her and took her hand.

  “Everything okay?”

  “It will be. So, do you—”

  The piano player clapped Luke on the shoulder. “Luke, my man. Long time, no see.”

  “Hey, Benny.” He stood and shook the man’s hand. Benny was a rotund character with leathery skin and canyons etched into his forehead. His bright brown eyes crinkled when he smiled.

  “My old bones need a longer rest, but these guys ain’t gonna let me have it.” He pointed a thumb at the other musicians on stage. “Think you could take over the keys for a song or two to give my joints a break?” He splayed his gnarled fingers, cracked his knuckles, and winked at Macey.

  Luke grinned. “Anything for you, Uncle Ben.”

  Macey arched an eyebrow. “You play?”

  “A little.”

  Was there anything this man couldn’t do? Luke slid onto the bench behind the piano, and Benny took the microphone, crooning “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay” while Luke’s fingers flew across the keys like a professional.

  Macey had to remind herself to breathe. Musicians had always made her heart swoon. There was something undeniably sexy about a man who could express his emotions through song. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up falling in love with this one.

  He finished the song and took his seat next to her, resting his hand on her knee. His palm warmed her skin, and she leaned into his side. “You’re good.”

  He chuckled. “My mom wanted to make sure I was a well-rounded person.”

  “Good for her.”

  His thumb tapped a rhythm on her leg. “Hey, you want to get out of here? Go have a cup of coffee someplace quiet?”

  “I’ve got coffee at my place, and it’s quiet. Want to go there?”

  He looked at her, his smoldering gaze traveling from her eyes to her lips, down her body, and up again. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Here we are.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she bit her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed pink as she blinked those emerald eyes and opened the front door. “Come on in. So, this is my living room, obviously.” She was cute when she was nervous. She stared at him, apparently waiting for a response, so he had to tear his gaze away from her little yellow sundress to survey the room.

  Wood floors. White sofa. Teal pillows. “It’s nice.” He stepped toward her, sliding his arm around her waist. “But I’d rather look at you.”

  He lowered his head to kiss her, but a brown cat jumped onto the sofa and hissed. With its back arched and ears flat, the feline screeched a challenging meow.

  Luke straightened his spine and eyed the furry creature. “You have a cat.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s been acting weird lately. Shoo, Thor. Get down.” She waved her arms at the cat, and it darted under the sofa.

  He chuckled. “God of thunder, huh?”

  “He may be small, but he’s mighty.”

  The cat glared at him from under the couch. Luke sighed. Werewolves had a distinct animal scent. Though it was imperceptible to humans, other animals recognized it immediately. The cat didn’t approve. “I’m more of a dog person myself.”

  “So am I, but don’t tell Thor that.
” She bent down to look at the feline. “Cats are easier to take care of. Since I work so much, I needed a pet that didn’t mind being alone.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind cats.” He knelt and rested his forearms on the floor, palms flat in a submissive gesture. If his pack could see him bowing down to a cat, they’d never let him live it down. But he needed to win over the pet if he wanted to keep the woman.

  “Come on, Thor. I won’t hurt you.”

  The cat inched forward.

  “That’s a good kitty.”

  Thor slinked from under the couch and eyed him warily.

  Luke blew out a breath and rolled over on his back, allowing the cat to jump onto his chest. This is so demeaning. Thor stared at him triumphantly and licked his paws.

  “See? We’re buddies now, right, Thor?” He scooped the cat into his arms and stood, scratching its ears.

  “Well, how about that?” Macey took Thor from his grasp and put him on the floor. “Do you want me to make some coffee?”

  He stepped toward her and traced his fingers along her jawline, raising her chin. Leaning in, he hovered his lips over hers, letting the anticipation build, fueling the fire in his heart. Heat radiated from her skin, awakening a primal desire deep inside him. He crushed his mouth to hers.

  She moaned, wrapping her arms around his waist, molding her body to his. He wanted her. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything his entire life, and she was his for the taking. She tugged at his shirt, leaving trails of fire on his skin as she slid it over his head. Desire pooled in her eyes as she ran her hands over his body and licked her lips. Her dress strap slipped off her shoulder, and he groaned, trailing kisses up and down her neck. She reached behind her back and tugged down her zipper.

  His phone rang, but he ignored it, focusing instead on her sensuous curves as her little yellow sundress dropped to the floor. He glided his hands along her body and gripped her hips, pulling her against him.

  His phone rang again. He groaned and fished it from his pocket to find Chase’s name lighting up the screen. Cupping Macey’s cheek in his hand, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “Hold that thought. This will only take a minute.”