by Sy Walker
She supposed that she had good looks going for her. She was short at five foot two, but she was curvy with large breasts, and a sizeable ass to go with it. Her body wasn’t quite an hour-glass shape, but she certainly wasn’t overweight. Well, maybe a pound or two.
Isabelle sat back down on her couch, folding one of her legs underneath her, and started watching TV. She checked out the news for a moment, but that was too depressing, so she turned on a channel that was predominantly cartoons, and allowed herself to feel more like a child again.
She didn’t need a man to be happy or whole. But she did sometimes think how nice it would be to spend time with a man who cared about her. She wished she could kiss someone again. She wanted to sleep with a man again… It had been over a year. It was something she didn’t want to talk about of course, but it bothered her. A lot.
Right as she was about to look into one of the more ‘normal’ dating apps, her phone lit up with a notification from ComeShift.
“Great,” she sighed. “Which Hot Topic-wearing weirdo is this going to be?”
She looked at her message and saw that it was from a guy named Devon Howard. He was surprisingly and thankfully gorgeous, with dark brown hair that was combed into an almost 1950’s style, hazel eyes like the sky during a storm, and scruff on his cheeks. He wore a leather jacket in a lot of his pictures, and revealed in one of them that he had a motorcycle. He was also, sadly, only twenty-eight years old.
Isabelle felt awkward even thinking about going out with a guy who was almost ten years younger than her. Ten years was a decade, after all! But she didn’t want to deny him one date, since he had taken the trouble of messaging her…
She went from his profile to the message and smiled at how sweet and fun he sounded.
BigBad666: Hey cutie. Want to get a drink sometime?
Isabelle blushed. This werewolf guy thought she was cute. Of course, she didn’t think he was actually a werewolf. Surely the people who used this app were just in some sort of Halloween-themed cult, right? Also, his username was pretty ridiculous. She would have cringed more if he wasn’t so good looking…
Nevertheless, she wrote him back. Why the hell not?
IzzyGrant80: Hi! That sounds nice. What sort of place did you have in mind?
She told herself that this would serve as a test. If he told her the name of some seedy place, she’d maybe change her mind. But if he still came off as fun and carefree as she thought he was, she’d go. She’d only live once, and he could prove to give her a good time. At least for one night.
BigBad666: There’s a place in San Bernardino called The Crazy Cactus. Want to meet there tonight at ten? Or is it a school night? ;)
She knew that he was kidding, but Isabelle was not one to take such a jab lightly.
IzzyGrant80: You’re on, biker boy.
Meeting him at ten would give her enough time to change. She didn’t want to show up in her PJs, though she decided to keep the Jem shirt on. At the very least, she could see if this Devon had any idea what the animated TV show was.
Devon Howard was not a bad guy. Deep down, he could be rather sweet. He just did not want any of his friends to know that. He was a part of a motorcycle club, though the times they rode together had become less and less frequent. He was starting to hit that stage in life where a lot of his friends were going off and getting married, and he didn’t want to be a lone wolf, in any sense of the phrase.
He was already a wolf, but did he have to be a lonely one?
According to him, he had everything a girl could want. He was young, handsome, and muscular with an interesting backstory and unique hobby. Shifting into a wolf was not exactly a hobby, though. He just chose to look at it as an interesting quirk of his, not as a curse.
He joined the ComeShift dating app with the express purpose of finding Miss Right, if such a person existed. He thought that, maybe, if he found a lady for himself, things could go more or less back to normal with the guys. After all, they had united due to their common interests. What could be better than adding a girlfriend to the list of their similarities?
And, sure enough, at last, he thought he had found the one for him. This woman named Isabelle Grant showed up on a profile search. She had black hair, blue-green eyes, and quite a voluptuous figure. There wasn’t much to not like about her… She was thirty-six years old, but he felt like that didn’t exactly matter. She was more experienced than him, maybe. That thought excited him. This Isabelle looked like she might like it dirty, and that was the sort of girl he liked.
So he messaged her. It did not take long before they had some plans for ten o’clock that night. In the intervening time, Devon went into his bathroom and added some hair spray to his mass of dark curls that he’d already formed into a 50s style Teddy Boy. The young wolf had an antiquated view of what it took to be attractive, but then again Isabelle was taken by him. If the look didn’t have anything to do with it, it would have fooled him…
Devon hoped that Isabelle wouldn’t mind driving from L.A. to San Bernardino that late at night. If the date went smoothly, he had the idea in his mind that they could stay the night there at his place.
That is, if she didn’t mind sleeping with werewolves.
As the hour of their date approached, Devon hopped onto his black Harley, and rode in the direction of The Crazy Cactus. The bar also had food, so they could get a midnight snack if Isabelle so chose. He did not pick out a crapshoot of a place; he hoped she would appreciate that at least.
Maybe he was pressuring himself about this more than he knew. It was just hard being the last of his friends to be single.
Isabelle paid close attention to the map on her phone as she drove from her apartment in Los Angeles to this bar in San Bernardino. She’d actually never been to the smaller town before, though she’d heard good things about it. It amused her that a werewolf had been living in San Bernardino this whole time, and this was the first she’d heard of it. But, then again, she did not hear about anything paranormal going on in her boringly normal life.
She still expected to just find some goth wannabe in the bar instead of a ‘sexy, hot werewolf’ like Ramona had professed she would encounter.
God, she really needed to stop thinking up these ancient references.
When she finally arrived at the bar, she parked her car next to a black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. Isabelle wondered if that was Devon Howard’s bike. If so, it looked pretty awesome. She’d been on a bike a few times in her life, though she was not brave enough or crazy enough to get one for herself.
She went into the bar and looked around for any sign of the leather-clad werewolf. All she saw around was a bunch of normal-looking people who were having drinks and chatting in groups in some of the booths. The place Devon had picked out seemed nice enough. It was slightly wild west themed without seeming too much like a movie.
But it took her a few moments to find the guy she was there to meet.
When she did find them, they locked eyes. That was how she knew it was him. He had the prettiest eyes she thought she’d ever seen. Though his body was definitely not that of a giant, blood-thirsty beast. She supposed that it was only because the moon was not full.
Smiling, Isabelle went over to meet him at his table for two near the bar. He stood up and they shook hands. At least he behaved like a gentleman. That was a pleasant surprise, and also not very werewolfian.
Isabelle began to wonder if she was relieved or disappointed that she had not met a vicious beast from the Internet.
CHAPTER TWO
The Vicious Beast
Sitting across from Devon, Isabelle looked him over without giving it away too much that she was doing so. He was definitely as handsome as the pictures made him out to be. She hoped that he thought she was pretty, and was not disappointed in her. She reminded herself that she was just a little older than him; she wasn’t a dinosaur. It was terrible how often she fell for the classic ageism thoughts. No one really should care how old someone is, a
s long as there is a real connection.
And she could definitely still connect.
Devon smiled at her as if he could read her mind.
“Hello,” she said to him. “Sorry I’m a little late. This place is off the beaten path.”
He chuckled. “It’s okay. I hope you don’t mind that I picked a place closer to me… To be honest, L.A. scares me a little.”
Isabelle grinned at that. “Really? Why?”
Devon shook his head and shrugged. “No particular reason. Well, I guess it has something to do with it being a big city. I do better in smaller cities. I’m not really from San Bernardino, even. I have a cabin in the woods.” He held up his hands defensively. “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”
She laughed. “No,” she said. “You’re not. You’re just a werewolf.” She whispered that last part, almost as if she had said a bad word.
Raising an eyebrow at her, he smiled slightly, revealing a perfect set of teeth.
God, was he gorgeous or what? She almost didn’t feel so bad about robbing the cradle because he looked like a star from the 50s. And he definitely didn’t look like Lon Chaney, Jr. He looked more like Elvis.
“You don’t have to lower your voice about that,” he said. “I’m not shy about it.”
She leaned forward and was all set to ask him more about that when the waitress came over and took their drink orders. Isabelle ordered a Bloody Mary, and he ordered a Guinness. “Ooh,” she said. “A dark drink for a dark man.”
Devon continued to grin at her, leaning towards her a little himself. “You looked like you wanted to ask me something.”
Isabelle nodded. “Is it actually true?” she asked him.
“Of course it is,” he said. “I’ll shift for you later, if you want. But not here. I don’t want to be banned from The Crazy Cactus.”
That made her cackle. He was a werewolf who was worried about being banned from a bar. And she thought she was hooking up with a bad boy…
The waitress brought them their drinks, and he asked for the check. “I’m trying to drink responsibly,” he told Isabelle. “So, what brought you to the ComeShift app if you don’t believe in shifters?”
Isabelle laughed, embarrassed to be called out like that. But it was true. She thought it was a strange app for people with weird fetishes, but she wasn’t going to tell Devon that. “Well, I didn’t want to be prejudiced. My friend signed me up for it, actually. She thought it would do me some good after my—” She broke herself off, not wanting to get into her divorce with her hot young date. “…I had been going through some crap lately, so she thought it would help lift my spirits, I guess.”
Devon tilted his head at her a bit, wondering what she had been about to say but not wanting to push her since they were still strangers to each other. “Is it working?”
Looking at him and feeling sort of shy, she nodded. “It is.”
“Then let’s drink to that,” Devon said, raising his glass of dark beer. She raised her Bloody Mary. “To spirits being lifted.”
They clinked their glasses together and drank.
“So where is this cabin in the woods?” Isabelle asked him curiously.
“It’s near Lake Gregory,” he replied. “I inherited it from my granddad and it’s a pretty good place to hide away, especially when I’ve shifted and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Isabelle’s eyes widened. He really was a werewolf. It was starting to fully dawn on her. She thought that Ramona should have offered her more of an explanation besides werewolves being good in bed. Was she putting her life at risk by being with him?
She was putting her life at risk by being with anyone, she thought. Still, this was a lot. Maybe she should have thought this through instead of driving out to see him so late at night. At least it was a Friday, but still…
What would Patrick say?
God, she scolded herself. You really need to stop worrying about what Patrick would think!
Her ex-husband Patrick was not like this guy at all. He was normal and laid-back and, in the end, boring. He lost interest in her almost immediately after their wedding, but she had been stubborn enough to try and keep it going for years after that. She’d waited so long to find the right person.
And here she was, again, doing the same thing. Except this time the supposed the right person had paws, and was too young for her.
Isabelle drank a lot of her drink at once. Devon may have been trying to be good and not drink too much, but she felt like drowning her sorrows now. She felt like doing something crazy that Patrick would definitely disapprove of.
Fuck Patrick.
“So what brought you onto the ComeShift app?” she asked him, keeping her voice casual. “I would have thought that a cute guy like you wouldn’t need any help finding a girl.”
Devon looked at her and his smile faltered for a moment. “Then you’d be wrong. I haven’t had a lot of good luck with women.”
Isabelle felt mortified. She had said it so casually, thinking that it could be something they joked about, but he was actually sad about it. That’s why he suddenly had a change of expression for a moment. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I thought it would be a joke. I’m bad at this.”
He took a sip of his beer and nodded a little. “Well, that we do have in common.”
Even though he’d asked for the check, they ended up ordering more drinks. They carried on a fun conversation where he told her more about his friends in his motorcycle club, and she told him about working as a leasing consultant. She did not mention her E-X, but she could tell that it was bond to come up.
“Speaking of you being the last of your friends to get hitched or get a long-term girlfriend,” Isabelle said, “I haven’t told you something that’s probably important… I’m recently divorced. I was married for many years.”
She expected Devon to be shocked, to decide that he’d had enough time with her, to move away from her. Instead, he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He practically seemed to have anticipated that she would say that.
“Do you miss him?” he asked.
Isabelle shook her head, realizing the truth as she said it. “Not at all.”
He looked her in the eye. “Then what does it matter? I think it’s good that you’re trying to move on. I know that, if I’d broken up with you, I wouldn’t be able to leave the house let alone go out with someone new.”
She blushed at stared at him, surprised and touched. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” Devon said. “I think you are pretty and sexy, and fun to be with. You actually care about my bikes and my stupid friends.”
Isabelle laughed. “They’re not stupid.”
“I guarantee you they are.”
He and Isabelle smiled at each other.
“Would you like to come back to my place?” he asked her. “I’ve had a few drinks, but I can get there. I don’t even have to think about it. My brain goes on autopilot.”
For a minute, she thought that she’d better not. It wouldn’t be safe to go off with him since he’d been drinking. It wasn’t wise to go off with him anyway. He was still basically a stranger. And he was too good for her. Too young for her. Too…
“Okay,” she said. “That sounds fun. Just promise that you’re not going to murder me in your cabin in the woods.”
Devon chuckled darkly; flashing a mischievous look at her that made her wonder if that was what he had planned. Then his chuckle turned into a full-throated laugh and she realized she was being dumb again.
“It’ll be fun,” he promised her. “You can swim in the lake, and I also have a jet-ski, though I think its engine is almost out of gas.”
Isabelle nodded, smiling at him. “Great,” she said. “I didn’t bring any clothes with me, but…”
Devon beamed back at her. “We can make do. Worst case scenario, there are some shops around that at least would sell some bathing suits and skirts for beachwear.”
It seemed as though he’d thought of
everything.
Before long, he’d paid the check and they were on the back of his motorcycle. She held him tightly so she wouldn’t fall off. It had been a long time since she’d last been on a motorcycle. A cousin of hers had a husband who drove a motorcycle, but she hadn’t seen them since she was in high school. Which was quite a while ago.
Isabelle continued to remind herself that there was nothing wrong with a thirty-six year old woman dating a twenty-eight year old man. The liquid encouragement had helped while they were in the bar, but now that they were speeding off to his cabin, the doubts were coming back.
And she didn’t plan to drink all weekend.
CHAPTER THREE
Big Bad Six Six Six
The cabin they arrived at was attractive and much bigger than Isabelle thought it would be. Devon parked his bike in the driveway and got off before carefully assisting her. Once she’d hopped down off the motorcycle, she placed her hands against his chest and looked up at him, into his steely gray eyes. She was feeling emotional all of a sudden. She wanted to blame it on the air from the lake, but she knew that wasn’t the actual cause.
She was happy that he had taken an interest in her. She didn’t feel like she deserved it.
Devon knew that. He was more aware of things than she knew. And he had big plans for making sure that she realized she deserved all of this before nightfall.
Leaning down a little over her, he kissed her.
When he pulled back to look at her again, Isabelle bit her bottom lip. “Pinch me?”
He laughed and gave her arm a gentle pinch. “Come on,” he said, chuckling as he led her up to the cabin’s wooden front door. He unlocked it and held it open for her to enter first. She walked inside and looked around. It was lovely on the inside too, with fancy wood paneling. It had a large, open space for the living room and dining area, a kitchen and a bedroom with a bathroom close by.
