by Jane Jamison
Obviously, they were talking about her, but what was Michael telling them? That she helped a rabbit? Or was he talking about more personal matters?
She couldn’t help it and had to peek through the blinds. They were still in the same place with Michael doing most of the talking.
The man Michael had clapped on the back was just as handsome as Michael but in a slightly more rugged way. He had obsidian hair that shone in the light and teased the collar of his denim work shirt. She wondered if he had Michael’s intense green eyes. He was broad in the shoulders—like Michael—and tall without an ounce of flab on his body—again, like Michael. In fact, all four men were gorgeous hard-bodies.
But then again, Lonesome, Texas, had more than its fair share of rugged, sexy cowboys. That, at least, was a point toward staying there.
The next man, whose attention hadn’t wavered once all the while she’d been watching, had a shaved head. She’d always wondered if men shaved their head out of a sense of fashion or because they hated dealing with longer hair. Either way, the shaved appearance worked for him. His jawline, square and masculine like the others’, was clean-shaven, too. Obviously, he cared about grooming.
The fourth man had brown wavy hair the same color as Michael’s. He stood with his feet planted apart as though ready for action. He crossed his arms, and even from a distance, she was sure she could see the muscles ripping in his arms. Unlike the man with the shaved head, he sported stubble along his jawline.
If anything could make a woman settle down in Lonesome, it was the sight of these four men.
What would she do with four men?
Hell, what wouldn’t she do with four men?
She stepped back, almost having to force herself to do so. What did it matter when she was thinking of leaving town?
A soft sound coming from the rabbit’s carrier had her turning toward it. She cooed at the rabbit, but unlike Michael, she wasn’t brave enough to stick a finger into the crate. “It’s okay, Mr. Hops. I won’t leave until you’ve all healed up.”
* * * *
“She’s everything people have said and more.” Michael was excited, but he tried to maintain his cool. If he knew women, and to a certain extent he did, then Mira was watching them from the doctor’s window. He could probably turn around and wave at her, but he didn’t want to give himself away. If he was right, then she was checking out his brothers like he’d hoped she would.
“Carl sure raves about her,” added Henry.
Henry was the second oldest of the four brothers and, like Michael, often wondered what it would be like to be the oldest. Not that Davis pulled rank very often as the oldest and, by werelion rules, the leader of their family. Still, Michael had to wonder. What would it be like to be born into leadership?
“Carl’s doing his best to get her mated to ease his conscience.” Davis glanced at the doctor’s office then away. “Still, you’re right. Folks say she has a good heart and a level disposition. And being pretty doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Then we should go for it.” Michael couldn’t resist another peek. Did the blinds move?
“We?” laughed Rick. “How are we supposed to go for it?”
“You know what I mean.”
Rick was the cynical brother. Although there was plenty of examples around town of multiple men sharing one woman, Rick had sometimes wondered if it was the right thing for them.
“Damn it, bro.” Davis jabbed Rick in the ribs. “How the hell did you get to be so pessimistic? She could be perfect for us.”
Michael’s brief letdown was gone. Thankfully, Davis was the optimist of the family. “We’ll never know until we try.”
Rick shook his head. “There he goes again with the we part. Talk about being out there.”
Michael wanted to knock his brother in the head. If he didn’t know what Rick had gone through, he might have. Although it had been four years since it had happened, Rick was still on the mend. His previous girlfriend—a nice hometown girl he’d thought might be “the one”—had cheated on him by asking another werelion to give her The Allure. When Rick had found out, he’d been angry. Worse, hurt to the core. The other werelion had given her his full allure, thus claiming her. Rick’s only option had been to go against pride tradition and try to allure her away from the other werelion. But Rick, being Rick, hadn’t broken against tradition. Which, by Michael’s thinking, meant Rick had realized, if only subconsciously, that she hadn’t really been the one for him.
Michael glanced again at the window. “Come on, guys. Let’s go and introduce you to her right now.” He turned back toward the doctor’s place along with Davis and Henry. But Rick dug in his heels.
“Nope. Not happening.”
“Why the hell not?” asked Davis. His eyes held bits of amber, telling that his lion was excited at the idea of meeting its mate and was rising to the surface.
“Because it’s a lame idea.”
“Rick—” Michael tried to interject, but when Rick didn’t want something, he was harder to move than a pig in a mud hole.
“Do you want to scare her off?” asked Rick. “Or maybe you want to come straight out and tell what we are and that we want to fuck her for the rest of her life?”
“There’s no reason to be crude, man,” mumbled Michael.
“He may be right about scaring her off,” added Davis. “Let’s slow this down a little. We’ve got time.”
“Maybe not. She’s thinking of leaving town.”
“And you found this out how?” asked Henry. “Besides, talking about it is a lot different than doing it.”
“I ran across this rabbit stuck in a trap.” He shrugged, knowing how it sounded. “I figured it was a sign.”
“So instead of eating the rabbit like any self-respecting lion would do, you took it to the doc?” Rick snorted. “And not even to the vet, but to the shifter doc’s human assistant.”
Michael ignored Rick’s snarky tone. “It was in the daytime. I couldn’t just shift and scarf the rabbit down right out in the open. Besides, like I said, I saw it as an opportunity to meet Mira. An opportunity that worked.” There was no way he could tell them about her naming the rabbit Mr. Hops. They’d razz him relentlessly.
Davis answered his phone. He listened for a moment then ended the call. “No use arguing about it now. We’ve got cattle breaking through the fence and getting on the road. Meeting Mira will have to happen some other time.”
Shit. Why now?
Michael took one lingering look at the window. His plan had worked up to a point.
Damn cows.
Chapter Two
“Mira, you can’t be serious. Give it more time.”
Mira liked Miss Kitty a lot. The seventy-something, I’m-so-not-telling-you-my-age woman was thin, but hardly frail. Mira had seen her lift a fifty-pound box of food without even straining. Her graying brown hair was still vibrant, her laugh contagious, and her Texas twang thicker than most. Thanks to Miss Kitty’s generosity, Mira was able to afford staying at Miss Kitty’s B&B longer than she would’ve hoped. But it was time to make a change.
“I’m just not sure that Lonesome is the place for me.”
Miss Kitty pulled her into the chair next to hers in the small eat-in nook in the kitchen. The bright sunlight of the day was dimming, making way for twilight.
“Why? Because of Carl Hartley?”
Miss Kitty made a sound that was close to being a growl. At first, Mira had thought it strange, but a lot of people in Lonesome made odd noises. She assumed it was simply part of that area of Texas.
“I’d like to punch that boy right in the nose.” Miss Kitty waved away her answer. “No, not his nose. His balls. Someone should’ve done it. Hell, you should’ve done it after what he pulled on you.”
“He didn’t pull anything on me. And besides, Carl and I are good friends. We were then, and we still are.” She loved that the woman was protective of her, but as she’d explained so many times before, it hadn’t been entirely
Carl’s fault. She’d played a part in the fantasy that they were in love.
“Still…” Miss Kitty dropped her hand and let it skim over Clayton.
Mira studied the tabby cat. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he was different. Perhaps it was simply a result of Miss Kitty treating the feline as though it was human, but it still unnerved Mira. Sometimes when Clayton looked at her, she would’ve sworn the animal possessed a human-like intelligence.
“What happened with Carl has nothing to do with whether I stay or go.”
“Then what does?”
Miss Kitty was doing the hard sale, determined to keep her there. “Oh, just a little thing like a good job.”
“You have a job.” Miss Kitty started to rise. “Did I forget to offer you some coffee? Tea? A shot of whiskey?”
Mira gave the whiskey idea consideration then let it go. “Yes and I’ve very grateful to Doc for giving me the job. But, seriously, I don’t know how he keeps his practice going. We rarely have anyone come in needing help.” She smiled, remembering Michael. “In fact, the only client I’ve seen this week had fur.”
Miss Kitty jolted, sitting back and leveling her gaze at Mira. “Fur?”
Why had she taken her comment so seriously? “Uh-huh. Fur. As in rabbit fur.”
“I’m not following you.”
“A very kind gentleman came in today with a rabbit that had gotten caught in a trap and broken its leg.”
“Really? Who was the man?” Miss Kitty sat up, interest lighting her eyes. Clayton jumped on top of the table then sat down and set his amber gaze on her.
Trying to ignore the odd cat, Mira continued. “His name is Michael Fairland.”
Miss Kitty frowned. “Michael Fairland? Not Davis or Henry or Rick Fairland?”
“No. Why? Are those his brothers?”
Miss Kitty recovered and smiled. “They sure are. And as handsome and hard-working as any men in Lonesome. A woman would do herself proud to call them her own.”
“Them? As in all four of them?”
“Well, maybe not all four…”
Why not all four? Lots of women in Lonesome had more than one man at her side. And which one would Miss Kitty not include? Judging from her reaction, it would probably be Michael. But there was the same question as before, why?
The older woman snatched up Clayton and put him in her lap. “But go on with your story.”
“Well, there’s not much more to it. I told him we weren’t a veterinarian—something I would’ve thought everyone in town would know—but he insisted that I try and help the rabbit.”
“And, of course, you did.”
“I did. Mr. Hops is resting comfortably at Doc’s now. Funny thing, though. Doc didn’t seem surprised by the whole thing.” She hadn’t thought of it until now. “I guess I should get hold of the vet and let him take over.”
“Don’t bother. The vet, Mack Turner, and Doc have an understanding. Once the client comes in—no matter who or what the client is—then it’s their client. They often share customers, so it’s no big deal if the rabbit stays with Doc.”
“Really? So people are okay with a vet taking care of them?”
“They sure are. Remember, this is Lonesome. Everyone helps everyone else out, including most of the animals.” She scratched at the cat’s ears. “Isn’t that right, Clayton, honey?”
Instead of purring as Mira would’ve thought the cat would do, he whipped his tail back and forth, gave her a glare, then jumped off Miss Kitty’s lap. With another couple of tail swishes, he scurried out the door leading into the living room.
“I don’t think your cat likes me much.”
Miss Kitty’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t? Oh, I don’t think that’s right at all. I think Clayton likes you a whole lot.”
“Really? Maybe it’s just me, but he seems to glare at me a lot. Like he doesn’t want me around.”
“Oh, don’t let him get to you. He’s sizing you up, is all. Trust me. If he didn’t want you around, you’d know it.” Miss Kitty rose, motioning for Mira to stand, too. “Now you go and get cleaned up. Things get going pretty fast early on at the saloon.”
“What?” Did she know about Michael inviting her to the saloon? “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
“Why not?”
Because I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.
Instead, she shrugged. “I’m a little tired. I think I’ll turn in early.”
Miss Kitty fisted her hands on her hips and shot her a questioning look. “Well, okay. If that’s what you want. But it’s a damn shame for a pretty girl like you to be alone at night.”
“But I’m not alone. I’ll be with you.” She’d said it to be kind even though all she really wanted to do was to get into a hot bath and think about whether she wanted to move or not.
Miss Kitty patted her on her cheek. “That’s sweet of you, but this old girl isn’t staying home tonight. Clayton and I are going on the prowl for some fun.” She spun around then left in a hurry the same way the cat had done.
Well, hell. I guess I really am alone tonight.
* * * *
“Hey, Miss Kitty, do you have a second to talk?” Henry hadn’t been able to get Mira out of his mind. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t actually seen or met her yet. As much as Michael talked about her, the glowing terms he’d used like “gorgeous,” “sexy,” and “smart,” the woman had to be wonderful.
“Well, hey, there, Henry. How’re you doing?”
“I’m fine.” He snagged her arm, helping to keep the slightly tipsy woman on the bar stool. Her cat strode up and down the length of the counter as though he owned the place.
Although Michael had said Mira had turned his invitation down, Henry had still held out hope. But he and his brothers had been at the Whiskers and Whiskey Saloon for three hours and had finally given up hope that Mira would show.
She stabbed a finger into his chest. “I bet you want to talk about Mira Ashby, don’t you?”
He stepped closer, hoping doing so would get her to lower her voice. The entire town probably knew their business already, but he could hope they still had a few secrets left. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well, then you’d better start talking.” She took a sip of her beer. “Or, better yet, start acting fast.”
His lion snarled, aware of the intention behind her words. He paused and pushed the beast back down. Thankfully, everyone in the saloon was a local, but letting his lion loose in the place would still be a bad thing to do. Shifters had an agreement to change only outside and, unless it couldn’t be helped, only at night.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she’s going to skip town if you boys don’t get your asses in gear.”
“Did she tell you that? Did she say she’s leaving?” They’d been slow to act, all right. Slow enough that it had been Michael to make the first move.
“She’s thinking about it. Especially after your brother brought that rabbit in to get fixed up.” Miss Kitty wiggled her fingers in a wave to Mitch Laramie, an old beau of hers. Not that she’d ever get mated again. She’d found her mates and lost them. As far as she was concerned, no one could ever come close to them.
“Damn it. Can’t you talk her into staying?”
“Me?” She pressed her palm to her chest. “She’s not my intended mate. You boys should do your own thing. What the hell are you waiting on, anyway?”
“Well, shit. You know. The whole Carl thing. Plus, we’re not sure how fast we should go.”
Miss Kitty’s expression grew thoughtful. “That’s true enough. I couldn’t say for sure, but she might be one of those skittish types. Go too fast and you scare her off. But go too slow and she leaves before you get a chance to win her over.”
“Yeah. That’s the problem, all right.”
“The way I see it, one of you should give her a taste of your allure. Just enough to keep her in town. But not Michael. I don’t get why he’s even a part of this.”
He didn’t want to get into the Michael thing. Why bother? “So what’s your best guess, Miss Kitty? Move on her big time or just take it easy and make a move when we have to?”
“Boy, are you deaf? I said someone should give her a taste of their allure.” She poked him again. “Why not you? She’s at the house right now. Go on. Knock on the door, introduce yourself, and then just breathe.”
He had to admit that the idea had an appeal to it. But then what? Tell her he’d swung by just to breathe on her? But he and his brothers had to be sure she was their intended mate first. Still, he wasn’t about to say so and get poked in the chest again. “Okay, thanks. I’ll talk it over with my brothers and see what they want to do.”
He hadn’t gotten three feet from her when she called out in a loud booming voice. “Better do what I say, boy. Give her a taste.”
The crowd, knowing what she meant, let out a loud cheer. Wishing he’d never said hello to her, Henry hurried back to the table at the far end where his brothers were scowling at him.
* * * *
The men surrounded her. They were tall, sexy, and their bodies were the absolute perfect example of a male. Mira stood on the edge of a cliff, the wind buffeting her hair away from her shoulders, pushing the flimsy nightgown against her body. The moon was bright enough that nothing of her body was hidden from them.
“Baby, don’t be shy. Come to us.” Henry Fairland’s black eyes were intense, boring into her.
She had no doubt he could see straight into her soul. But what would he see? Would he see the good inside her? Or the ugliness?
“My brother’s right. We want you as much as you want us.” Davis jerked off his shirt, revealing his hard tanned chest. Black hair traveled downward between his pecs to widen a little at the top of his jeans.
Her gaze lingered at his crotch, seeing the telltale bulge. She forced her attention upward and found Rick studying her.
