by Jane Jamison
“You’d think she was a werewolf the way she moves. Fast. Agile.”
Reagan was proud of being a werewolf, and sometimes Brooklyn was jealous. She’d often fantasized about being stronger, faster, with heightened senses. Yet, as often as she’d thought about asking Reagan or, better yet, one of the men to change her, she’d always held back. The time had never seemed right. Was now the right time?
“So? Did you miss living here?” asked Reagan. “I know it’ll be different now that your folks have moved back to the mainland, but West End still feels like home, right?”
How could she explain her mixed feelings when she didn’t understand them? “Sure. I’ll miss my parents, and I loved living in London and traveling, but this will always be my home. For better or for worse.” Besides, she’d come back with a purpose. Some way, somehow, she’d get the men she wanted to make her their mate. Once they did, then she’d think again about becoming a shifter.
“Well, I’m sure glad you’re back. The place has never felt the same without you. It was kind of like I’d lost my right hand.”
Brooklyn had to look away. Reagan rarely got sentimental, so when her friend did, she was taken aback. “I know what you mean.” Yet it was more than that for her. Reagan was her missing right hand, but others had taken her heart when she’d left. Now she was ready to get it back, even if it meant breaking her heart into three separate pieces.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in.”
The deep voice came from behind her, stilling her breath while her heart skipped a beat.
“Will you watch what you say?” Reagan jumped to her feet and stepped past Brooklyn to whack her brother on the arm. “There are a lot of folks in here who’d take offence.”
“Screw them.” A growl followed.
Slowly, almost fearfully, Brooklyn twisted around. Her gaze met Morgan’s dark one.
Damn, but he’s better looking than ever.
For one horrible moment, she was sure he’d tell her to leave. To never return. That what little sisterly affection he’d had for her was now gone. Then, suddenly, she was lifted off her feet and brought into a tight bear hug.
Not a bear hug. A wolf hug.
“Damn, but it’s good to see you, Brookie.” Morgan was the only one who’d ever gotten away with calling her Brookie. He set her on her feet but held tightly to her arms. His intense perusal swept from her head to her toes.
“Hi, Morgan,” she squeaked. She’d almost forgotten how tall he was, standing at nearly six feet five inches. Her five-foot-six-inch frame made her feel tiny.
“You look good. Really good.” He scanned her body again. “And you’ve changed. A lot. You look like a full-grown woman now.”
“Good one, man. Show some damn tact.”
Her attention slipped behind Morgan to find Samuel boasting his bright smile. “As hard as it is for me to admit Morgan’s right, you do look great. Those three years were good to you.”
Morgan turned her loose as the warmth from her blush slid into her cheeks. “I guess so. You two aren’t so bad yourself.”
“I guess you grew up in more than one way, huh?”
Damian.
She had to swallow hard as the vampire seemed to glide closer. The rest of the customers kept their eyes on him, suspicious of his presence. Although vampires could stand being out in the sun for two to three hours at a time, most of them preferred to venture out only after dark.
The men had changed, too. Like her, they’d gotten impossibly hotter, sexier. “Hi, Damian.”
“Don’t give me a hi.” He opened his arms wide. “Come here and give me a hug.”
She slipped into his embrace, closed her eyes, and let out the smallest of sighs. Yet, when she opened her eyes as he turned her loose, she found Reagan’s knowing look.
“It’s good to have you home, Brooklyn,” he said. “We never got used to you not hanging around the house.”
Like a kid sister? Had she been right? Had she been only Reagan’s friend and nothing more? Even though she’d changed, did they still see her the same way? “Thanks. I’m happy to be back.”
“Okay, okay. Enough.” Reagan tugged Brooklyn close. “We’re all happy she’s back. But unless you three have more to say, then get out of here. I want some time alone with my best friend.”
Morgan’s low growl wasn’t half as menacing. She knew he loved his sister more than his own life. “How the hell did she grow up to be so damn bossy?”
Brooklyn couldn’t let his remark slide. “She’s not bossy. And even if she were, she has a right to be. She grew up with you three. That gives her the right to be bossy.”
Damian’s laugh was louder than the other two men’s, drawing attention to him yet again. “She’s got a point.”
“Whatever.” Morgan shifted from one foot to the other, as though he was nervous. “Anyway, we think you should stay with us. Why waste money on a rental when you can have the extra room in our home?”
The “extra room” had been Morgan and Reagan’s parents’ room. They’d moved off the island, wanting to spend time seeing the world before they were too tired to travel. Even werewolves grew old and frail. Like werewolves, as a wizard, Samuel would age the same as a human. Vampires, however, could live for hundreds of years. Damian had never admitted his age, but rumor had it that he’d been changed during World War One. At times, he’d grow melancholy while remembering friends who had died so many years earlier. Once the elder werewolves had taken off, Damian and Samuel had decided to move in, making it easier to work together.
She was already shaking her head even as the others joined in, urging her to stay with them. “No, no. I’ve already paid Horace a month’s rent in advance. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be in the way.”
Samuel tilted his head, having adopted a very werewolf-like gesture from Morgan and Reagan. His sparkling blue eyes tempted her. “You could never be in the way.”
The urge hit her so hard she almost couldn’t resist grabbing his shirt and tugging his mouth to hers. Sexual tension rippled in the air between them, and for a moment, she was certain Morgan and Damian had stepped closer. The air grew thicker, steamier. Her breath hitched in her throat as her gaze swept from one handsome man to the next.
“Whoa,” whispered Reagan. She’d been the only one to step back. “That’s intense.”
Take me.
Brooklyn’s mouth parted, her tongue peeking out, aching to lick them over every inch of their bodies. The muscle in Morgan’s jaw jerked. Samuel’s hot gaze fixed on the swell of her chest. Damian, however, was the one she turned to.
Did he hear me?
For as long as she’d known him, he’d never told her outright. Could vampires read people’s minds? Yet, judging from his lust-filled expression, she was positive he had.
“Is everyone okay?” asked Reagan. “Hey, earth to everyone.”
Brooklyn might have continued to stare at the men if Reagan hadn’t waved her hand between them. She blinked, clamped her mouth closed. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Like I was saying, I’m going to stay at the rental house. But thanks for the offer.”
Morgan’s irritation dropped his eyebrows toward his nose. “If that’s what you want.”
“Still, if you change your mind, you know where to find us,” offered Damian. His face had softened yet showed no emotion.
“Thanks. I’ll remember.”
Reagan was still staring at them. “Okay, then, you guys get the hell out of here. Don’t you have places you need to be? Like the ranch? Or the winery?”
“We do,” added Samuel. “I have a shipment coming in today so I’d better get moving.”
“And the cattle can’t take care of themselves.”
Damian made the slightest of shrugs. “I guess that means I need to hit the books. Taxes are due soon.”
And yet there they all remained, looking at each other, none of them speaking, none of them moving.
“So go.” Reagan grabbed Morgan’s arm and tugged. Not that s
he could’ve ever made the huge man move, but he finally gave in.
“We’ll see you soon.”
The promise in his dark eyes sent heat racing into Brooklyn. “Yes. Soon.”
She couldn’t speak again as she watched the three of them, the fantasies of her youth and her present, stride through the diner then out the door.
“Sit. Now.”
She let Reagan pull her into the booth again. Before her bottom hit the seat, she hadn’t been aware of how stiff her body had become. She relaxed and let out a low breath.
“That was intense.”
“You said that before.”
Reagan made a drinking motion, silently asking Miranda for couple of drinks. “Yeah, well, it deserved to be said twice. I knew you liked them, but I don’t think I ever knew how much.”
What could she say but the truth? Keeping her voice low, she said, “You know I’ve had a crush on them for years.”
“I do. But this”—Reagan waved her hand in a circle, indicating the spot where they’d all stood—“was something so much more than a crush. Hell, the way they were looking at you was—”
“Intense?”
“Yeah.” Reagan frowned, confusion etched on her face. “You were like another sister to them. But now?”
“Now?” she asked, hoping against hope she’d hear what she wanted to hear.
“That was no brotherly love they were throwing your way.”
If Reagan was right, then maybe, just maybe her dream could become a reality. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so.”
She dared to ask. “And if you’re right? Would it be a good thing or a bad one?”
Thankfully, Reagan held her answer until after Miranda had placed a soft drink in front of each of them.
“Here you go, girls.” Miranda paused, obviously hoping one of them would give her some juicy tidbit of gossip. “Is everything all right? Are the guys okay?”
“Everything’s great.” Reagan took a sip. “We’re fine, thanks. I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
“Oh. All right.” Still, Miranda paused. When they didn’t speak up, she finally turned on her heel and stalked away.
Reagan leaned across the table. “Come on. You know what I think of you. I’d be over the moon if they chose you as their mate.”
“But would they? I mean, they’ve always thought of me as just your friend. It’s unusual for a vamp, werewolf, and wizard to want to share a mate, but when it’s your best friend? The odds are probably astronomical.”
“Bullshit. I might have agreed that it was a longshot before I saw their reactions. They want you, and they want you bad. If you four hadn’t been in a public place, they’d have stripped you naked in seconds flat.”
She tried hard but couldn’t control the excitement bubbling inside her. “Do you really think I have a chance with them? Really?”
“That’s the real reason you came back home, isn’t it?”
Brooklyn started to pick up her glass, but stopped when she realized how much her hand shook. “I think I’ve loved them from the first day Morgan threw a spit ball at me.”
Reagan laughed then put her hand over her mouth when others noticed. “I remember that day. It’s one of the only times I’ve ever seen him run, especially from a little girl. Oh, hell, Brooklyn, if that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.”
“Yeah, but what do I do about it? What if we’re wrong and they don’t want me?”
“You’re not wrong and I’m sure as hell not wrong.” Reagan shook her head emphatically. “It’s really simple, isn’t it? You tell them how much you want them. And you tell them soon.”
“I don’t know. I mean, yes, that’s why I came back. And I had a whole thing planned, too. I’d planned on marching right up to the three of them and putting my heart right on the line.” She swallowed hard. “But now? I’m not sure I have the guts.”
“Why the hell not? They want you.”
All her planning, all her dreaming of the day she’d tell them washed away with her insecurities. “What if I tell them and we’re wrong?” She cast her gaze down, unable to bear seeing the possibility reflected back from her friend’s eyes. “I don’t think I could survive it.”
“Brooklyn Hightower?”
“Yes?” She lifted her gaze to Reagan’s.
“Don’t be a damn fool. Either you tell them or I will.”
Could she? Or would she take the coward’s way out and let her friend tell them?
Once again, Reagan pulled her around, tugging her out of the booth. “Come on. Let’s get you set up in the rental home.”
Chapter Two
As wizards went, Samuel considered himself to be average at best. But average as a wizard was a lot better, more powerful than the strongest witch. Wizards were born, not transformed from humans like werewolves and vampires. As such, some of their magic was inherited from both their mother and father. Not that he didn’t still have to study the Old Books of Spells or concoct potions, but having powers came as naturally to him as breathing. Even so, he hadn’t had to use any of his powers to know Brooklyn Hightower had changed.
“She’s a full-grown woman now.”
Samuel wasn’t about to disagree with Damian. “The time she spent away was good to her.”
He kept pace with Morgan, whose long legs ate up the distance between their weathered ranch-style home and the barn in the next pasture. The vineyard was several miles down the road, but every inch of land in between was theirs. The ranch had been in the Legacy family for generations and all three had played there as boyhood friends. Once the men had decided to share a woman, Morgan had invited Samuel and Damian to live with him. Samuel had sold his family home while Damian had turned his land into a profitable vineyard and winery.
“Not that she wasn’t always pretty,” added Morgan.
Damian punched his werewolf friend on the shoulder. “I knew it. You’ve always had a thing for her, even when we were kids.”
Morgan’s lip lifted into one of his patented snarls. “Are you calling me a child molester?”
“You know he’s not. Besides, we didn’t give her the time of day back then. Except as Reagan’s friend.” Samuel kept his gaze on the barn. Morgan with his volatile wolf nature often took offense when none was meant. Of course, Damian wasn’t above prodding him just for the fun of it.
“I’ll bet you’d like to give her more than the time of day now.” Damian walked faster, getting ahead of Morgan. “Am I right?”
A low growl was Morgan’s warning as he caught up and snagged Damian by the neck. Damian twisted around, fangs bared, eyes blazing, eyes gleaming with vampire fury.
“Watch who you’re grabbing, wolf.”
Morgan’s huge hand surrounded Damian’s throat, making the vampire stretch his neck. “I know exactly who I’m grabbing.”
Damn it. Here we go again.
Samuel gripped Morgan’s arm, not hard enough to be a threat but enough to get the man’s attention. “Calm the hell down, you two. We have a more important matter to discuss.”
Morgan blinked his amber-flecked eyes and loosened his hold on Damian. “Like Brooklyn.”
“Like Brooklyn.” Damian’s fangs disappeared as he stepped away from the still irritated werewolf.
Although the three of them had fought before, none of those fights had ever been drag out battles. They’d been boyhood skirmishes without the real threat of doing major damage. Samuel had often wondered which one of them would come out the victor if a real struggle happened. Still, he never wanted to find out.
He had to get his friends back on an even keel. “Who knew she’d grow up to look like that? Damn, the girl’s hotter than molten lava.”
“Samuel…”
He held his hands up, holding off Damian’s next comment. “I know, I know. Looks aren’t what’s important, but they sure as hell don’t hurt. Besides, we already know her as a person. We know she has a great heart, she’s intelligent, a
nd better yet, she can get along with Reagan.”
He grinned. They all knew taking a mate together would be hard enough, but if their sister—because he and Damian considered her family even without being blood-tied—didn’t like their mate, they’d have hell to pay. The vampire and the werewolf were his brothers as far as he was concerned. Now, with the possibility of Brooklyn becoming their mate, they’d have all any man could ever want.
“I don’t see her as Reagan’s friend. Not any longer.” He had to tell them the truth. “I haven’t for a while.”
“What does that mean?” asked Damian.
“I’ve been listening to Reagan whenever she talks about Brooklyn. I know the woman she’s become, and I grew to see her in a different light.”
Morgan and Damian, their focus on Samuel, glanced at each other. He knew what to expect next.
“You love her, don’t you?” Morgan advanced on him, using his large body as an intimidation factor. He did so often, most of the time without realizing what he was doing.
“You’re telling us that you care for her.” Damian took his place beside Morgan, his questioning expression just as intense. “Why didn’t you tell us before now?”
“He didn’t want to look like a pussy.” Morgan laughed then crossed his arms and gave Samuel a studying look. “You were afraid we’d make fun of you,” he said accusingly.
The power inside Samuel flared to life, but he was still in complete control. Unlike Morgan’s werewolf, he wouldn’t let his magic break free with his emotions. As a vampire, Damian could handle almost any situation, but sometimes was caught off guard and reacted before thinking.
“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. Now, after seeing her again, I’m sure. She’s the one for me.” He’d worried throughout the night about how they’d react. “So? What about you two? Could you see her as our mate?”
“Mate is a shifter term. I’d rather call her our partner,” said Damian, going into one of his snootier moods.
