by Jane Jamison
She wiped away the zigzag of water that trailed down her face. Damn, I must look like a drowned rat.
“Sure. Come on. The ranch isn’t far.” Charlie tilted his head to the side, then strode away.
She hurried after them, then paused at the door of the truck. “Do you have anything to put down on the seats? I wouldn’t want to get them soaked.”
Charlie opened the door and waved her in. “Don’t worry about it. This truck has seen worse.”
Did he mean worse as in water on the seats? Or worse in how awful she looked?
Jesse opened the other door, reached behind to the backseat, and pulled out a blanket. “Here you can use this. Not for the seat, but to cover yourself up a bit.”
She felt naked and in a bad way. Okay, maybe not in an entirely bad way. It was a little embarrassing, but she liked their heated gazes on her. Nonetheless, she hopped into the seat, grabbed the blanket, and wrapped it over her body, covering as much of her as she could.
Jesse slid behind the wheel while Charlie came to sit on her other side. She would’ve sworn the cab of the truck had just gotten a lot smaller. Not only because of their massive size, but because of their proximity.
The heat from their bodies wafted into hers, making a burning trail from her shoulders downward to bring her pussy to a very alive and very wet arousal. It was the first and only time she was glad to have gotten soaked. At least then there wouldn’t be any telltale signs of what was happening between her legs.
“Is your ranch far?” Had he already told her?
Jesse pulled the truck onto the road with the windshield wipers swishing back and forth like a mad metronome. “Not far.”
She kept exasperation from her tone. Or at least, she tried to. “Why do men do that?”
“Do what?” asked Charlie.
“Why is it that every time a woman asks a man a question that has a definitive answer, he always gives a vague response?”
“I don’t get it. I wasn’t vague.”
She could already tell she’d liked sparring with them verbally. But would they enjoy it as much as she did? “Yes, you were. Your ranch is, say, two miles from here. That’s definitely an un-vague-like answer. Instead, you gave me an answer that could’ve meant two miles or ten. See? Vague.”
The men exchanged a quick glance. Jesse made a right turn onto a small, gravel road. Mud was already creeping into the gravel from the dirt on the side of the road. “Why do women have to have a specific answer?”
“He’s right. I don’t get it, either.”
Fearful they’d end up stuck in the mud, too, she kept her focus on the road ahead of them as though she could mentally will the truck to stay on the road. “Because we want a real answer. It’s like my mom always said. Ask a man how much he’s going to spend at the hardware store, and if he gives you an actual amount, then double it.”
“I still don’t get it.” Jesse slowed down, maneuvering around a huge pothole filled with dirty rain water. The road grew harder to navigate and bumped them up and down on the seat. The pounding on the roof set up a drumming background to their voices.
But she didn’t mind how long it took to get to the ranch. Watching the muscles in his arms was entertaining and more than enticing. The sizzle warped a little higher.
She shrugged, trying to maintain a cool exterior even as the rest of her body started to boil. The action caused the blanket to slip off her shoulders. “I guess you need to be a woman to understand.”
“Do you always talk in riddles?” Charlie hung onto the overhead strap as they failed to miss avoiding another pothole.
“I don’t think I do.”
“So what else did your mamma tell you? Anything like don’t hitch rides with strange men?”
She couldn’t hold back the giggle. “I think I remember something like that.”
“Is your mamma still with us?”
A wash of loneliness swept over her. “No. She passed on a few years ago. That’s when I moved from Dallas to Nashville.”
The sincerity on Jesse’s face was unmistakable. “I’m sorry to hear that. About your mom, that is. Not about you moving to Nashville.”
“Yeah. I’m glad I moved, too.”
“Let me guess.” Charlie arched an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes. “You came to the city to break into country music. Everyone’s in the business. Am I right?”
He called it “the city” as many in Nashville did. It wasn’t as large as Dallas, but considering that the towns surrounding it were a lot smaller, she could understand why locals had given it the nickname.
“In a way.”
“Talk about a vague answer. What does that mean?”
She felt herself relaxing, wanting to ease against Charlie and capture more of his warmth. “I’m not a singer. You couldn’t pay me enough money to get on stage.”
“Then what do you do?”
“Didn’t you say everyone you know is in the music business?”
“Now who’s being vague again?”
Touché, big guy.
Charlie was hot, kind, and smart. As far as Carolina was concerned, that was a lethal combination. But she’d never thought that death by hunk would be a bad way to go.
The truck bucked into a large pothole, bumping them around in the cab, and Charlie placed his hand on top of her leg in an attempt to steady her. She sucked in a breath at the renewed sizzle that seared through her.
Okay. Definitely not lightning.
“I work for a talent management company. Witward Talent. Have you ever heard of it?”
“Yeah, I have.” Jesse made a right turn and came to a stop in front of a metal gate. The road led on behind the gate and cattle grid that kept the animals from leaving the pasture and getting on the road. He opened the door fast, and yet the rain still poured a generous amount into the truck.
She and Charlie watched as Jesse unlocked the gate, then swung it wide. He was back in the cab a minute later. Once they’d made it through the gate, he got out again and closed the gate behind them.
“So you said you’ve heard of Witward?”
“Sure have. In fact, three of our friends are signed with them.”
“Really? Who?” She knew all the artists, if only by their name on their contracts.
“Wyatt Montgomery, Stone Garrett, and Rae Barnes,” offered Charlie.
She pushed against his shoulder. “You’re shitting me. I know them, too.”
He grinned and tipped his hat back. “Does your mamma know you talk like that?”
“Hell, yes. Where’d you think I learned it from? In fact, my mamma”—she emphasized the word to play with him—“always said that a word’s just a word. A word isn’t bad or good. It’s how you use it that counts.”
“Your mamma must’ve been one hell of a woman.”
“Yes, she was.”
Her heart filled with pride as it always did whenever she thought about her mom. She’d been a single mother who’d raised her four kids with a smile on her face and a kiss each night. Like most kids, Carolina had never given any thought to losing her mother before the car accident that had taken her. Like most children, even some adult ones, she’d considered her mother invincible.
“So how do you know them?”
She turned to Jesse and caught his quick glance. “I’m Rae’s roommate. Or at least, I used to be until she met Wyatt and Stone.”
“You’re shitting me!” It was Charlie’s turn to tease her by mimicking her earlier response. “You’re that Carolina?”
“The one and only.” She started to ask them how they knew Rae and her men when the sight of the three-story frame home wiped all her questions away. A white wooden fence with a wide open gate gave the house a welcoming entrance that complimented the white siding of the home and rocking chairs nestled along the wraparound porch. Another large structure that looked similar to a barn yet was as cozy and welcoming as the house was set in the back. Close to that was a red barn with white shutters. Trees dott
ed the area around them, providing shade and beauty. Horses dotted the pasture beyond the barn and houses, their rumps turned toward the oncoming rain or huddled together in three-sided shelters. The place was one of the best-looking, well-kept ranches she’d ever seen. Picture perfect in every way.
“I guess I should’ve asked before, but whose ranch is this?”
“It’s called Two Forks, and it’s owned by the Sterling family. Although everyone who works here thinks of it as their home, too. We’re like one big family.” Charlie lifted a hand in greeting to one of the men leaning against the railing at the top of the steps leading into the home. “You know, kind of like a pack.”
Pack? That’s an odd way to put it.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Charlie tugged the blanket over her shoulders again. “You might want to keep that wrapped around you until we can find you some dry clothes.”
“Oh.” A few more men joined the group on the porch. Had she made a smart move in coming with them? She was attracted to them, more than she’d been with any man in the past, but was that coloring her judgment? Maybe she should’ve given it more thought before hopping into their pickup.
“Are there any women on the ranch?” Having another woman around would make her feel safer than being alone with a crowd of men.
Jesse put the truck into park. “Yeah. There’s a few, and they’re around somewhere. We’ll holler at one of them to help get you dried off.”
The men were out of the truck before she could ask another question. And yet what would more questions gain her? She searched around for one of those women he’d mentioned, saw none, then pushed away the nagging alarm going off in her head. Unless she wanted to hole up in the pickup, she didn’t have much of a choice now. Snatching her purse from the floorboard, she scooted out and made a dash for the porch.
Chapter Two
Carolina Tallen was the most beautiful woman in the world. She had curves that wouldn’t stop, highlighted by her drenched clothes. Her face was more angular than most women’s and some might have considered her hard-looking, but Jesse saw determination and fire. Although her long blonde hair was stringy and wet, he could still see the shine and knew it would feel like silk once he touched it. And he would touch it if it was the last thing he ever did.
However, it wasn’t her beauty that excited him the most. It was the burning electrical rush that had passed between them. She was the one they’d waited for. The one a werewolf male knew would be his mate. He’d heard about the connection many times and had seen it in action. But feeling it was a whole lot better, more intense, than he’d ever anticipated.
Charlie felt it, too. He said as much from the stolen glances he gave her and the telling looks he shot him. Confirming it later with his brother would happen, but it wasn’t necessary. His gut told him she was the one, and he always listened to his gut.
Jesse eased her past the other werewolves on the porch, making sure none of them got too close to her. They could sniff all they wanted as he’d done since she’d settled in next to him in the pickup. But he’d be damned if he’d allowed them to touch her. Not even in a casual way. She smelled of rain, watermelon—probably her shampoo—and a sweetness that not only oozed from her pores, but highlighted the other sweet scent coming from between her legs.
She felt it, too.
He knew she wouldn’t know what it was, wouldn’t know how to interpret the tingle of lust that encompassed her entire body, but that didn’t matter. Only their mate would’ve felt the sizzle that passed between them. That bond would supersede anything else, including any fears or inhibitions she might have. It had already gotten her into the truck and home with them. And the longer they stayed close by, the more that connection would grow. Finally, she’d have no choice but to listen to her body and answer its instinctive call.
His inner wolf howled with joy.
“This way.” He and Charlie led her into the foyer of the home. She paused, her mouth parted just enough to show the tip of her tongue, and gazed around her.
For the first time, he saw the home as someone else would. He’d never cared before what it looked like. Wherever the pack was, that was where his home was. Who cared if it was a cave or a mansion?
And yet watching her, he was thankful and proud that it was a beautiful home. A magnificent staircase off to the right of the grand marbled foyer curved around as it led up to the second story. White hand-carved molding accented the tastefully taupe-colored walls. The red carpet would’ve seemed almost gaudy for any other home, but not there. Photographs of former pack members representing various families hung in ornate frames on every wall while the sparkling chandelier above them cast dancing lights over them. The original rich hardwood floors shone under their feet. Although another house of its quality might have seemed austere, the Sterling house oozed comforting warmth that welcomed anyone passing over its threshold. The house had withstood the ravages of weather and time, but it was well maintained with not only craftsmanship, but with loving attention to detail.
“Wow. So this is your place?”
“Yes and no.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Vague much?”
“Fine. Like I mentioned before, it’s owned by the Sterling family, but everyone on the ranch is free to come and go. We all consider Two Forks our home, whether we sleep in the main house or in the bunkhouse.”
“And where do you sleep?”
He wanted her question to have an underlying message but didn’t want to risk reading too much into it. Not yet, anyway. And yet, he couldn’t help but visualize her sneaking into his room late at night. He cleared his throat along with his mind.
“Charlie and I are welcome to take any of the bedrooms here.” He met her gaze and held it. “If we have a mind to.”
She swallowed, betraying her nerves. “So where’s the master of the house? The Sterlings?”
“The master?” He checked with Charlie, who only shrugged.
“Yeah. I mean, this place is amazing. I keep thinking Scarlett O’Hara’s about to come down the staircase.”
“Oh. I get it. Naw. There’s nobody like that. I mean, yes, we have those who are in charge. Otherwise, the pack would go wild.” He cringed as he realized his mistake.
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned a pack.” She grinned. “What are you guys? Werewolves?”
He laughed along with Charlie. It was too soon to let her know what they were. “Right.” He spread his lips wide, keeping his fangs carefully retracted. “See? I’ve got great teeth.”
“Oh, sure. The better to eat me with.” She laughed, turning away to study one of the photographs.
Charlie narrowed his eyes, giving him a silent warning. “As my brother said, the Sterling family owns the place, but they’re out of town right now. Jesse and I prefer to live in the bunkhouse with the rest of the men. It’s a lot less fancy.”
“Yeah, I can understand that. This place is kind of intimidating.”
He tilted his head at her in question. “I wouldn’t think anyone like you would ever get intimidated.”
“Like me?” Her green eyes, the deep, rich color of an emerald ring his mother used to wear, hooked him. “What does that mean?”
Did she always want to tangle with words? And yet, he liked spunky women. They were harder to handle, but well worth the effort.
“You just seem”—he paused, searching to find the correct word—“confident. Secure in your abilities to handle any situation. Besides, I can see a woman of your charm living here. A woman like you doesn’t deserve any less.”
She preened under his praise, then frowned. “Of my charm?” She laughed, and once again, the sound made music.
“Oh, sure.” She swept her hand over her like Vanna White. “I look like the mistress of the manor right now.”
“You look beautiful.”
That threw her. Although he knew she had to be used to getting compliments, she didn’t expect it. She blinked, frow
ned again, then turned back to the staircase to see several of the pack’s women coming down the stairs.
“Charlie? Jesse? I see you’ve brought a visitor.”
Millicent Jenkins was an older female in the pack. No one knew exactly how old she was, and she refused to say when she was born. She was a widow after losing her husband in a fight between the pack and a werebear clan a few years earlier, but her position was second only to the alpha female, Regina Sterling. As such, she took over the pack’s leadership whenever Regina and the rest of the Sterling family were away.
Jesse took Carolina’s arm, cutting her off before she could speak. She wouldn’t know that pack protocol insisted that she be introduced before she spoke. The pack didn’t bother with the formality when off the ranch and surrounded by humans, but in the main house it was expected. Carolina glanced up at him, confused, but held her tongue.
“This is Carolina Tallen from Nashville. She’s a friend of Wyatt’s, Stone’s, and Rae’s.”
“Is she now?” Interest crossed Millicent’s face. The older woman was a country music fan and loved their music.
Why was she looking at him so intently? As though she was searching for something? Jesse shifted on his feet. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if the old woman could see into his very soul. Could she sense that he’d felt the connection?
“Her car spun off the road. We gave her a lift so she can use the land line to call for assistance.”
If anything should’ve intimidated Carolina, it was Millicent’s silvery gaze. “I see. Unfortunately, the weather has knocked out the phone line.”
“And cell phones aren’t getting reception, either,” he added, although Millicent no doubt already knew.
Millicent continued down the staircase, her posture as straight and firm as ever, then crossed over to stand in front of them. She clasped her hands together, a perfect example of power and grace. Her gaze intensified, jumping from him to Charlie, then back to Carolina. The other females stood behind her in a semi-circle, giving her the lead as they usually did. “I’m guessing you weren’t prepared for the rain.”
