Unfortunately, Hunter’s father had wanted his youngest son to join the business world as well. Hunter grunted. Sitting at a desk all day, pushing papers, was not his idea of fun. When his father had threatened not to pay for Hunter’s education, Hunter had told his father to go screw himself even though it would mess with his ten-year plan. He’d had a damn good plan. Four years in college to get an officer’s commission—because there was no way in hell he was taking orders from some pansy assed humans the rest of his life—make the rank of major by the time he was twenty-five and then enjoy a lifelong career in the military. The setback with his father had only bumped up the timetable to join the marines.
It had cost him his commission, but that didn’t matter for very long. It had taken Hunter six years instead of four to get his degree. In that time, the missions he was assigned to, helped make a name for himself. He rose quickly in the ranks, no thanks to his father’s interference.
Hunter grunted as another inconsiderate person banged their carry-on bag against his shoulder as the passengers disembarked. Yet another reason why he hated flying commercial. Give him a military transport and he was a happy wolf. No fuss, no muss. And certainly, no passengers bumping into him. His wolf growled inside him, and he agreed with his animal. Enough was enough. Standing up, he blocked the aisle as he grabbed his duffle bag from the overhead compartment. What was the use in being big if you couldn’t take advantage of the strength and size that nature had given you once in a while?
Departing the plane, he made his way quickly across the tarmac, unperturbed by the steadily falling layer of white. Looking up at the sky, he realized his would probably be the last flight in or out of the O’Hare Airport today.
Tightening his grip on the duffle bag, he made his way through the crowded airport. As he predicted, many flights were now being canceled. He stopped in front of a television screen playing the local news. His expression grew grim as he listened to the forecast. It would appear a damn blizzard was headed this way.
Fuck.
He moved his neck, trying to lessen the tightness that had been building since he stepped on the plane in sunny California. The weather was playing havoc with his schedule. It was already late Friday afternoon. He should have landed hours ago, but he’d missed the connecting flight. He’d arranged for a few days off before his next assignment and was actually looking forward to spending it with his family. No one but Logan knew he was going to be in town. He hadn’t wanted to get his mother’s hopes up in case some last minute assignment kept him from coming home. He got his balls busted on a regular basis by his mother for not making time for family. He snorted, Jarod and Logan were no better, and they both lived in the area. At least he had an excuse most times—again courtesy of Uncle Sam. His brothers were just damn workaholics, married to their jobs.
That reminded him; he needed to text Logan to let him know he’d landed. Taking out his phone, he sent the same message to his brother and his first sergeant.
If the blizzard lasted very long, he’d have to drive down to Sunny Point, North Carolina. It would cut his leave short, and it was a fourteen-hour drive he didn’t want to make.
Fuck. Damn. Shit. He said another fuck for good measure.
The last time he’d seen any of his family was on Super Bowl Sunday. An unexpected trip through the area had allowed him to spend the day with both Jarod and Logan. Getting all three brothers in the same place at the same time was a feat unto itself. Being with his brothers had made him realize he was missing the family more and more.
Missing your family, his wolf reminded him. The damn animal had been pretty mouthy the last few months, putting thoughts of family—and heavens help him—a mate into his psyche on a regular basis.
Maybe it was time to hang up his dog tags.
His mother’s birthday had been last week and he’d still been on assignment. Most women with four grown children and three grandchildren tended not to want to celebrate another year growing older. Not his mom. She liked the attention and presents too much. He grinned, remembering one year when his father had forgotten her birthday. His dad had spent that night outside in his wolf form, howling for forgiveness.
All three of the McCall boys would lay down their lives for their mother. And their father, Hunter admitted grudgingly. It didn’t mean he couldn’t give his father a little well-deserved payback. Inside his duffle bag was his present for his mother—a month long world cruise. His father got motion sickness stepping onto an elevator.
Smiling his first smile since he’d boarded the tiny plane in California, Hunter continued to make his way through the crowd. Watching the snow coming down on the other side of the large glass windows that looked out over the tarmac, Hunter wished like hell he was still in the sunshine state.
He hated the fucking white stuff.
The car rental agency’s kiosk was just up ahead. If his sergeant hadn’t messed up, he had a Hummer waiting for him to take him to his parents’ house just outside the city. Here was another reason why he had so much money sitting in the bank drawing interest, or in mutual funds or money markets, or whatever—he left all that up to Logan. He had no need to buy an expensive automobile when he would never use it. Or rent an apartment. When he was in town, he used one of the company’s executive suites at the Hyatt or bunked with his brothers when they didn’t have a woman with them. Which was a rare event. His brothers were considered two of Chicago’s major playboys, Logan more so than Jarod.
Hunter was the lesser-known McCall brother. He kept a low profile on purpose. As head of a military paranormal unit, it was best not to let the enemy know your weaknesses. And having a family was a weakness.
Or a pleasure. Each time he came home and saw the happiness in his sister’s eyes, or inhaled the baby powder scent of his nieces and nephew, he felt that tug inside. The one that said it was time to mate.
But in order to mate, you had to have a woman. So far, fate was being a real bastard and keeping his mate from him. Or he had no mate. As the years passed, he decided he was meant to be alone. Why else would he have been drawn to the military? Where one mistake would mean his death, even as a wolf shifter.
Anyone who chose to share his life would have to put up with two very difficult things. He was a marine and a shifter. As a marine, he was never at home, and his wolf was a dangerous animal. He was a predator by both birth and training.
“Hello, how may I help you?” The pretty blonde behind the car rental counter smiled up at him, an invitation in her light blue eyes. She looked like someone’s Barbie doll. Not a hair out of place, a white toothed smile and an unnaturally perfect body, especially her tits. They were as fake as the Christmas trees his unit had put up this past season. Afghanistan was a little short on live evergreens.
He wasn’t fond of the surgical enhancements a lot of women turned to. No, when he kneaded a woman’s breasts or better yet, sucked them into his mouth to bite and lick, he wanted to feel the real thing, not two plastic balls rolling around beneath a thin layer of fat.
Damn, how long had it been since he’d had a real woman beneath him? One with curves. Hips he could hang on to, thighs that would hug him. A ripple of want raced through him.
“Hello, darling,” he smiled down at the woman, his wolf starting to pace within him as if he didn’t like Hunter flirting. He told his animal to take a chill pill. He was still a McCall, and his two older brothers hadn’t cornered the market on charm. Dropping the duffle bag at his feet, he placed his arms on the counter, leaning into her. Most women liked the display of dominance. He repressed the instinctive need to move back when her perfume wafted into his face. Had the woman used the whole damn bottle? “I believe you have a reservation for me, Hunter McCall.”
He waited to see if the woman would recognize him. The McCall name was well known in the Chicago area. Her blue eyes widened. For one moment his body responded, thinking about asking when she got off work, or even better, wondering if she’d be willing to slip into the back and
relief his tension the good old fashioned way, with her on her knees and his cock pumping between those pink lips.
His wolf growled low and deep, and he shook away the thought. The animal hadn’t liked him imagining this woman pleasuring them. She wasn’t his type, that was for sure, but the wolf needed to be less picky. The man was damn horny.
He picked his women with one thing in mind—fucking. Women who wanted the same thing—a quick fuck and an even quicker goodbye. His brother Logan told him women liked the broody type—made them think they could figure out what was going on inside his head—and fix it. Hunter didn’t need fixing he needed—
A mate! This time, his wolf shouted the words and Hunter was the one to growl, forcing the wolf back where he belonged.
He gave the blonde another look. Not enough meat on her bones anyway. The image of a curvy brunette flooded his mind. He couldn’t see her face, but he sensed her.
WTF?
He rubbed his chest and his wolf whined.
“Of course, we have a reservation for you, Mr. McCall,” she tittered. “I believe your assistant called and requested a, let me see,” she paused and hit a few more buttons on the keyboard in front of her. “He reserved a Hummer for you, is that correct?”
She batted her obviously fake eyelashes, and Hunter wondered how she kept them on. “That is most definitely correct, darling. But he isn’t my assistant, he’s my sergeant. I’m in the military.” He’d found out early in life that the one thing that made a shifter even more attractive to the opposite sex was a shifter who was in the military. Another smile and he had no doubt she’d be offering him her phone number right along with the contract he had to sign.
She handed him a bright yellow square of paper and made sure to slide her hand over his. “Here’s my number, just in case you need something while you’re in town.”
Bingo.
Taking the number, he shoved it in his front pocket. In the stream of mandatory warnings and helpful numbers to call should he break down, she let it slip that she was off in a few hours and would truly appreciate a ride home.
Hunter turned his attention to the windows across the terminal. The curtain of falling snow was even thicker than before. He hated to be the one to inform her, but if she waited two hours to go home, she wasn’t going. At any time, he expected to hear the announcement over the loudspeakers stating they were closing the airport.
Time to leave. Despite the night of fun this woman was willing to offer, he had other things to do. He gave a nod of thanks and strode to the door leading to the car lot. When he opened the glass door, the wind cut right through him. Damn, it was cold. He regretted his decision not to wear the heavy coat he had in his duffle bag. The light jacket he’d donned in California was no match for Chicago’s frigid temperatures. His wolf would keep him warm, but that didn’t mean he liked the cold. He didn’t.
Pressing the unlock button on the key in his hand, he had no trouble finding his car. It lit up like a giant luminary with the headlights shining through the snow that had settled over it.
Fuck.
In ten minutes the front and back of the Hummer were free of snow. Always one to be prepared, he’d listened to the weather before he traveled and knew he’d need dependable transportation. Navigating his way out of the airport, he thought it was a damn good thing he had requested the four-wheel drive. He had trouble just getting through the snowdrifts that had already started to form in the parking lot. There was nothing more dependable than a Hummer.
“You can’t do this to me,” Julie Monroe cried as her small compact car slid yet again on the snow-covered highway. She let her foot off the gas, and turned into the skid, saying a prayer of thanks that she appeared to be the only car still on the road. “The only idiot,” she mumbled to herself.
She pressed on the gas and breathed out a sigh of relief when the car started forward in a straight line. Vermont born and bred, she used to driving in the snow. Of course, she usually didn’t drive a piece of shit with bald tires and no freaking power under the hood. The little car was all she’d been able to afford when she’d moved to Chicago. She missed her daddy’s four-wheel drive with chains and sandbags in the back end to give it weight. With that ride, she’d pretty much been able to go wherever she wanted during the long winter months.
Right now, she wanted to go home.
But she had promised a friend from high school, she’d attend her wedding. The nuptials were to take place in a small town about two hours from Chicago. She now regretted the decision. Give her a quiet night in front of a fire with a good book and she was happy. Well, content. In her picture-perfect world, there was a gorgeous man beside her, vowing to love her forever and act out a few of the scenes from her favorite erotic romance novels.
She smiled, the thought relieving some of her stress. If she was going to dream, she might as well dream big. She was twenty-eight years old, and she hadn’t had a date in over two years. The last time she’d been out with a man… she wouldn’t call what happened a date.
She’d agreed to go out for coffee—which she didn’t particularly like—with a friend of a friend. She should have known when he suggested meeting at a fast food restaurant that the evening had disaster written all over it. He hadn’t been very appreciative of her comfortable slacks and beige sweater set. What had he expected? Four-inch heels and a see-through blouse? She’d come straight from work—straight from a dull office job at an even duller company. Nor had he been a big fan of her curves. She’d seen the disappointment in his eyes when he’d realized the chubby woman walking towards him was his blind date. The nail in the coffin of the DOA date was when he hadn’t even offered to pay for her coffee at the local Mickey D’s. If a man couldn’t spring for a ninety-nine cent cup of coffee…
She’d moved to the windy city to pursue another of her dreams—working for an ad agency. She no longer worked at a dull office job so she should be grateful. The change in location when she’d moved to Chicago hadn’t jumped started her love life, though.
Well, having one out of two dreams come true wasn’t bad.
Driving under an empty overpass, Julie read the sign that indicated her turn off was only a couple of miles away. Snow already covered half of the sign, the flakes adhering to the cold metal like a tick on a hound. Even though it was only late afternoon, it appeared as if night had fallen early in the city. The headlights of her car glowed brightly along the highway as she neared her exit, making the swirling flakes sparkle.
As her car started sliding again, Julie realized coming to Chicago, agreeing to be in her friend’s wedding, venturing out of her comfort zone, might have been a mistake. When a huge snowdrift suddenly appeared in front of her, she was helpless to prevent her car from slamming into it.
The white-knuckled grip on her steering wheel loosened as her car came to a complete stop. Before her was a solid wall of white and she realized, good or bad, the snowdrift had stopped her car. She let go of the steering wheel, and her hands fell to her sides like two wet noodles. After a moment, strength returned, and she reached up to turn off the engine. Who would have guessed the jalopy of a car would still keep running? Maybe it had a Timex engine. She giggled. And then giggled again. Realizing she could quickly become hysterical, she clamped down on her emotions. As her mother always said, what was, was. She turned on her hazard lights. Maybe someone else was foolish enough to be out in this weather. Remembering the unnatural lack of traffic on the highway, she wondered briefly if there was anyone left in the city to rescue her.
Taking a deep breath to brace herself, Julie opened her door and was immediately lashed by icy wind and stinging snow. She ducked her head and struggled against the wind, cautiously making her way to the front of the car. Maybe she wasn’t as deeply buried in the snow bank as she feared. With a little traction, maybe she could…
Well, fuck.
Julie wasn’t one to usually curse, but this situation called for that four-letter word and a couple of others.
The front end of her car was buried in the snow bank. There was no way she could get out of this by herself. Not until the snow stopped and the road crews worked their magic and maybe not even then. She’d probably have to pony-up for a tow truck.
It had been snowing when she’d left the office to go home and pack. If she’d realized how much snow had been expected to fall in such a short period of time, she would have sent her friend an email to ease her conscience and grabbed a good book to wait out the storm. The thought of sitting in front of a fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate in hand sounded heavenly. Not that she had a fireplace in her one bedroom apartment, but she could have turned her heat up high and pretended.
Why, oh why, hadn’t she stayed at home?
Because you were tired of being alone.
Snow was matting her eyelashes, and she realized she wasn’t doing any good standing on the side of the highway getting colder and wetter by the minute. Cutting a path to the back of her vehicle, she wiped off the taillights on the off chance someone did come by and was conscientious enough to stop and see if anyone was still inside the vehicle. Next, she dug out around her tailpipe. Since the little car didn’t appear to have any engine damage, hopefully, she could turn it on every so often and warm herself up until she was rescued.
By the time she made her way back to the driver’s side, even more snow had accumulated, making it difficult to open her door. Or maybe she was just growing weaker from being out in the cold. She vowed if she got out of this, she was going to start saving her pennies and take a vacation somewhere warm. Like California. Or Hawaii. As a big girl, she usually avoided places—entire states—where the casual attire of the female population consisted of Daisy Duke shorts and bikini tops. But right now, she sure as squat didn’t like the snow anymore.
Alphas for the Holidays Page 101
