Another Chance

by Taryn Kincaid

  Chapter Three

  Chance sat on a stool at Gee’s Bar—The Den now—and swirled his index finger through the puddles of condensation dripping from the sides of his icy beer mug. His reception in Los Lobos had also been chilly or at least mixed. Brick and Summer welcomed him back while the Pembrokes, Julie’s family, glared at him any time their paths crossed.

  He’d been living upstairs at Gee’s for nearly a week and didn’t foresee any warming fronts on the horizon. Tonight, wall-to-wall customers packed the place, but everyone left him alone. His fierce frown certainly didn’t win him any admirers.

  During the day, he pored over plans for converting the older existing structures to solar power and planning alternative energy for the new builds from the get-go with Drew and some of the other builders and construction crews who’d returned to Los Lobos. The town, so decrepit and dilapidated when he’d left, continued to blossom under Drew’s leadership.

  Fuel deliveries remained a problem, so solar power seemed ideal. Chance liked being able to help out and give back to the town and family he’d left in the lurch.

  Taking breaks from the paying gigs, he secretly surveyed the pretty piece of land he’d acquired in the woods on the outskirts of Los Lobos. He’d already demolished the ramshackle hut blighting the acreage. Now visions of the dream house he planned danced in his brain. Surrounded on two sides by fragrant Ponderosa pines, on a third by fruit trees, flowering shrubs, and hardwoods, the fourth fronted a tranquil lake naturally stocked with fish. The ideal spot. At night, except for a few visits out to Brick’s cabin, he’d been largely left to his own devices. Which pretty much meant gluing his ass to a barstool in Gee’s, considering the paucity of alternatives in the way of watering holes.

  “You did drop a bombshell on them all,” Gee told him, his deep growly voice resonating in Chance’s gut. The werebear whisked away Chance’s empty and slid another frosty mug in front of him. “Brick, especially.”

  “I know,” Chance said. “I’ve suspected the voices he used to hear in his head were the whispers of our siblings. We’ve talked about it. Makes sense. Brick was always attuned to them in a special way. He was too young to remember his visions and hallucinations first started when the others began vanishing. I mean, it wasn’t like we all lived here in Los Lobos as one big, happy family, anyway. We were scattered all over the place and dysfunctional at best. Even so, it was weird when they started to disappear. Then Magnum….” Chance shook his head. “You remember, Gee. Brick wasn’t born hearing and seeing things. He was as normal a kid as any. Like he is now again. I tried to get him to tell me what the whisperers said to him before I left, but he never came up with anything useful.”

  “That why you left?” Gee’s skeptical snort nearly blew Chance off his barstool. The bear’s brows headed skyward, adding to the air of disbelief stamped all over his grizzled features. “Trying to find out where the others were? What happened to them? ’Cause I mainly remember you getting into it with Magnum over Julie and then fleeing the place, leaving Brick to fend for himself.”

  “Well, I….” He paused, carefully considering his words. He didn’t have any excuses for what he’d done. Not really. Sure, Magnum had held a lot over his head. He’d menaced Brick, treating him like a lunatic and claiming he’d kill him. He’d threatened to mate Julie to Ozzie, one of his cruelest henchmen, unless Chance promised to leave and never return. Jesus, Ozzie. Of all of Magnum’s whackjobs, he was one of the worst. Trained as a scent masker by Magnum himself, an especially lethal brand of psycho who could disguise his own scent and the scents of other wolves so others didn’t sense when something deadly lurked in the vicinity. Thank the Goddess he was gone now. Unfortunately, back in the day, Magnum had also convinced Chance the fate of his absent siblings, whereabouts unknown, rested in the crazed Alpha’s hands.

  “I shouldn’t have listened to Magnum. I knew he was a sick bastard. I didn’t know what to do back then. Hell. I was only twenty myself. I figured my presence wasn’t good for anybody.”

  “And now?” The bear leaned forward, as if a lot rested on Chance’s response.

  “I guess all I can do is try to be the best wolf I know how to be.”

  “Yeah, it’s a start.” Gee offered a satisfied nod. “Good answer. Any leads?”

  “No, none yet. Drew doesn’t know anything about them. His father banished him from Los Lobos around the same time I left. Ryker says he doesn’t, either.”

  “So why are you hanging around the bar night after night? Expect clues to their disappearance to land in your lap along with a side of fried pickles?”

  Chance shook his head. He wanted to see Julie and hoped she’d stop by one night for a burger or cold one. He didn’t think he’d accomplish much else in town unless he got their situation settled. In his heart, he knew he planned his dream cabin for her, even though he recognized the futility of his cause.

  Nevertheless, his Wolf clawed at him desperately, the inner whines and howls as intense as the hard, curved nails raking Chance’s skin, urging him to go after her.

  He also hoped to catch a glimpse of Julie’s mate so he could size the male up and figure out how Julie was really doing after her tumble into the ravine. He’d muscle in and issue a dominance challenge if she looked battered or troubled. In exchange for his promise to leave Los Lobos and never come back, Magnum had backed down from the threat to mate her to Ozzie, and instead chose a random subservient male for spite. Chance hadn’t stuck around long enough to witness the ceremony.

  Everyone avoided the subject with him now, even Gee. The internal pull tore him apart, the compulsion to follow her nearly irresistible. He could sniff her out, follow her scent to her home, and see with his own eyes if she’d fully recovered from the spill in the forest, if all was well with her, but….

  “So what’s stopping you?” Gee growled, as if reading his mind.

  Jesus. Was his expression so transparent?

  The hopelessness of his predicament cycled through him. “I can’t upend her life. It’s been more than a decade. Whatever things were like for her in the beginning, she’s got to be settled by now. She hasn’t missed me much. I can’t go barging in, issuing challenges to her mate. It’s not my place.”

  “Her mate?” Gee stared at him, his dark eyes going round as disks on a checkerboard. “You really must be the dumbest wolf on the planet.”

  Chance tensed, his hands curling into fists beneath the bar counter. “What’s that supposed to mean, bear?”

  “I dunno. You tell me.”

  Before Chance could respond, his wolf sprang to attention and howled with joy. The intoxicating scent of vanilla and cinnamon—a scent Chance would know anywhere—plonked him in the gut. His mouth watered and he grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins off the bar to wipe away any drool. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do a thing about the erection suddenly surging at his fly.

  Mate!

  He spun slowly on his stool. Sure enough, Julie pushed open the swinging double doors of the bar and headed inside, arms laden with a huge wicker basket of cupcakes, lined with a colorful plaid cloth napkin and tied with a rakish bow. He sniffed. The delectable aromas of root beer, chili, hot pepper, candy corn, pretzels, and salted caramel wafted from the basket and made his nose twitch, but still couldn’t compete with the sublime fragrance of the female headed in his direction.

  Mate! Mate! Mine! Mine! The wolf basked in the sexy scent, beside himself with excitement, then head-butted Chance in the belly, as if trying to force the man to wake up and pay attention. Chance scrambled off his stool and quickly relieved Julie of her burden, setting the goodies on the bar counter just like the old days in school, when he hurried to carry her books for her before any other dudes could. She had him wrapped around her fingers back then. Still did. Always would. Whipped? Hell, yeah. He’d endure any amount of teasing where Julie was concerned.

  She shot him a look telegraphing her confusion, a variety of competing emotions
racing across her pretty features.

  “How ya been, Jules?” he growled. He scanned her features, looking for bruises, any signs of injury.

  “None of your concern, is it?”

  “No.” And that pretty much ended that. Chance slid back onto his barstool and stared morosely into his beer. “No, I guess it isn’t.”

  Gee shook his head and muttered, “You big, dumb wolf.”

  Holy hell.

  What? No snappy comeback? No sass? No answer? No nothing? That had to be the quickest retreat in the history of the known universe.

  Come on, you sexy devil. Fight for me, damn it.

  Was this the same huge hunk of male sensuality she’d dreamed about every night for more than ten years? Could he look any more beaten and chastened?

  Not the Chance she knew and remembered. Not her arrogant and aggressive wolf. Not the wolf she—No. No. No. Not going there, Julie Olivia Pembroke.

  Wait. Was this one aspect of the way he’d hit on to atone? She’d heard through the grapevine how quiet and unassuming he’d become after his first hell-raising night in Shady Heart, and his initial snarking at Drew and Ryker, as if he’d been trying to make amends for everything to everyone. If so, well, hello, another story entirely. She didn’t want him cowed and submissive. His dominant male captivated her. Still, he owed her…something. Was she ready to accept?

  He hadn’t exactly lowered his eyes from hers, even though he now apparently found the foamy contents of his frosty mug so fascinating and all consuming. He continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye with laser-like focus. Nope, he hadn’t shown signs of vulnerability or turned to present her his neck. No real submission from this male. Never would be. On the other hand, the apologetic attitude was…good. Kind of interesting, really.

  Just his proximity alone made her shaky. Sweet Luna. She’d scented him here from half a mile away. Now his heady smell enveloped her, masculine as hell, the herbal tang of smoldering white sage, the wild woodsy aroma, and pure, unapologetic male arousal.

  Her breasts immediately responded, going full and heavy, capped with nipples hard as pieces of gravel, straining against her shirt. She inhaled a deeper breath of him and the swift zing shot right to her core, the flesh between her legs alive with lust and tingling with need. Goddess. Was anything more delectable and tantalizing than the way Chance smelled? She wanted to rub herself against him, rolling around in his scent, drenching herself in it. Hot and melting for him already, her panties dampened and her legs wobbled.

  He gripped her shoulder to steady her. His hand on her arm had the opposite effect.

  She grasped the edge of the bar, short of breath, her heart racing. Soon she’d be throbbing all over for the rugged son of a bitch. He couldn’t turn himself into a rabbit no matter how hard he tried.

  Her wolf recognized the real male and whimpered, pawing at her, urging to get closer to her man. To her wolf. To touch him. To wallow in his scent.

  She sighed and gave up the battle, slipping onto the vacant barstool beside him, aware Gee’s place had suddenly gone stiller than a tomb. Her hand rested on his rock-solid forearm and beneath her fingers, his muscles leaped. Giving Los Lobos a show, but she couldn’t keep her hands off him. Many sets of lupine eyes peered out of human faces at them, ears perked in their direction. Hell knew wolves’ hearing was spectacular, no matter what form they presented.

  “You’re a better attraction than the band, kids,” Gee told them. “What are you gonna do about it?”

  “It’s not like I’m going to strip her naked and take her on the bar, for Christ’s sake,” Chance muttered. The carnal visual image his words engendered might have had her swooning if she wasn’t so conflicted about him. Still, another burst of heat snaked through her. Was there a male hotter than Chance? Anywhere? When she managed to rip her gaze from the thickly-muscled biceps jutting from the short sleeves of his tight black T-shirt, her glance landed squarely in the center of his broad, toned chest, the abs and pecs rippling beneath the tightly stretched jersey material.

  She tried to fish an ice cube with which to cool down from the container on Gee’s side of the bar, but her reach wasn’t quite long enough. Not knowing what else to do with her outstretched arm, she somehow ended up sneaking a fried pickle off the plate in front of Chance, as if snagging that limp cucumber had been her plan all along.

  Not exactly designed to chill her off, the crusty vegetable dripped grease on her fingers and she inserted it between her lips in an unconsciously erotic gesture. Chance groaned. She wondered if his wolf was scrabbling to get free of his self-imposed restraint.

  Enough of this squirrel act, buster. I want you unleashed.

  Gee raised an interested eyebrow. “The establishment frowns on bar counter copulation. Unsanitary, even for this dump. You two might want to think about another locale. In short, get a room. Quickly. Master builder though Chance might be, I really don’t need either of you clawing my walls in frustration.”

  Heat rose from the tips of Julie’s toes like a furnace run amok, until her face flamed, ready to burst into a raging fire only Chance could get under control. No way the embers of her desire would ever go out, even if they gave in to their wildest urges. She cleared her throat. “I brought you some new flavors to try out, bear. Maybe all you’ve got in the way of alcohol is beer and whiskey, but my cupcakes taste like piña colada, lime daiquiri, frozen strawberry margaritas, among other things. There’s a PB&H, for you, too.”

  “PB&H?”

  “Peanut butter and honey.” The bear’s face lit up and he sniffed the basket, smiling as if he’d seen paradise. Actually, Chance, I do want to talk to you about a few things.”

  “Talk?” Gee barked, raising an eyebrow as if her words were too incredible to be believed. A ripple of laughter ran through the bar patrons. Though they busied themselves with their steamed broccoli, burgers, and fried pickles, they still hung on every word exchanged between the two at the bar.

  “New word for it,” someone said in a stage whisper reaching them both.

  “I’m getting ready to open my gourmet cupcake shop.…” she began.

  “Great.” Chance literally jumped at the opening she’d offered, bounding off his stool.

  His size, his hard muscles, his scent, his dominant, uber-masculine Chance-ness, all seemed to reduce her to Lilliputian size, as he crowded her into a corner, his back like a stone wall hiding her from the prying eyes of the other bar patrons.

  “Give me a second here, big guy,” she murmured. His nearness had almost addled her into forgetting why she’d come.

  She turned back to Gee to transact her business regarding the cupcakes she’d brought. Gee opened the antique cash register and handed her a wad of bills. Instantly, a throng of customers surrounded the bar, their interest now snagged by something other than the thick sexual tension clotting the atmosphere.

  Chance inched closer to her side, his muscular frame alert, protective and, yes, challenging. Waves of belligerence caromed off him, spreading outward. Even without actually touching her, his stance and his low growl threatened those who drew too near her.

  Buh-bye, rabbit.

  It was the baked treats she’d brought the bar customers clamored for now. Gee couldn’t ring up sales and dole out the small cakes fast enough to satisfy them.

  “Same again tomorrow, Julie,” the bear said. “Maybe throw in a couple dozen more of your cupcakes and we’ll see how demand goes.”

  “So I’m about to start a business,” Julie repeated once they were outside the bar. “A sort of gift and gourmet cupcake shop. Cupcakes for all Occasions. People would call me or come in for a private consult and tell me what they want to celebrate and I’d design an edible theme for them. The people in town seem to like what I fix. Well, you saw them at Gee’s, I guess.”

  “I’ll say.” He studied her face, as if comparing it to the snapshots of his memory, before finally nodding. “You always had a knack for
crafty things. Especially baking. Made my mouth water. You could always curl me around your fingers with a donut or a cupcake.” He paused and a ripple of crimson splashed over his cheekbones and then just as quickly vanished. “I mean, not like you couldn’t, anyway.”

  Wow. Was the ripple of crimson painting his cheekbones a blush? From her rough, tough…mate? She stifled a sigh. What use was it pretending? Chance was back here in Los Lobos, apparently to stay. Helping grow the pack and rebuild Los Lobos. She burned for him every bit as much as she used to when they were kids. More…because she’d experienced a girl’s passion back in the day, a teen crush…the first flush of puppy love. Or so she’d thought at the time.

  The craving she had for him now was deeper, more profound, more elemental. An urgent and feral impulse driving her to claim him, name him, mark him, couple with him in a wild and savage mating, involving lips and teeth and hands and claws, beyond mind-blowing, toe-curling sex. Something so good, so full of joy and rapture it would reduce both of them to cinders and unite them as one. For eternity.

  Goddess. She dripped with need. She could barely look at him without melting into a puddle at his feet. He had to smell her desire. The scent of his arousal, of his awareness, stamped him, curled outward from his heated body until it drenched her, too. He hadn’t even touched her and her skin already bore his scent. No one would separate them again.

  “I’ve got the perfect spot.”

  “Looks like a shop would do well.” His voice cracked, harsh and ragged as if he’d already taken her, made her come, and found his own release deep within her. “People want your stuff.”

  She tried to drag her mind back to the present, to carry on a normal business conversation with him. Why did it seem like every word was laden with double meaning and sexy innuendo?

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” she said, carefully modulating her tone and proud when she sounded somewhat calm, despite her inner turmoil. “Money’s tight, though, and I have to watch every penny. Thought you might look the place over. Give me some expert advice. I’m interested in solar power. For the house, too. Fuel costs here have gotten astronomical. When we can even get a delivery.”