Tempering Steel

by Lea Barrymire

  Connor wanted the man to get to the important part, because he could sense it coming. In the twitching fingers, clenched jaw and stiff shoulders, the story was unraveling even without words.

  Jason continued after a moment. “I started dating the oldest sister, Amanda. I thought she was it for me. All was good for a while. Until the reports of property damage by animals came in. Livestock getting attacked, carcasses showing up in the middle of fields.” He shook his head. “What a fucking mess. We thought we had it under control, but then all hell broke loose. A human was killed and left in my garage.”

  “Fuck.”

  Zeke’s exclamation drew a nod from the rest of the men. The first thing you learn as a shifter is never to let the humans know about you. Never bring trouble to your door. And to do that to an Alpha? Fuck was right.

  Skip made a move to stand and go to the distressed man, but a wave from Jason kept the Alpha in his chair. “No. I’ve got this. Amanda and her brothers pinned the murder on me. Their plot the entire time had been to take my pack and my lands. I was given the option of death or banishment.”

  Connor snorted. “Right, like death’s an option. So how’d you end up in our woods? Didn’t you know it was shifter property?” He tried to keep the incredulousness from his voice, but from the scowl directed at him he didn’t do a great job of it.

  “I’ve been followed, harassed, hunted since the moment I ran. My plan was to head north, maybe move to Pennsylvania or something. But the moment my sentencing was over, Amanda and her brothers had the whole pack after me. Fucking liars.” A snarl bared his elongated canines. “I didn’t even have time to go back to my home to gather anything.”

  “We’ve got your back now.” Skip’s words held more than a promise. It let his pack know he wasn’t messing around. “You are welcome here as long as you’d like. As long as you don’t try to steal my house, you may stay here.”

  The relief was evident as Jason’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you, Alpha.”

  He tilted his head to the side in a show of deference to Skip and everyone held their breath. For one Alpha to submit to another was a big deal. Skip handled it in his normal fashion, by rising and resting his palm lightly on the wolf’s arm. “There’s no need for that here. You’re welcome to be as demanding and ornery as you’d like, as long as it’s not directed at me.”

  Chuck cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ve got room at my house too, if you don’t want to stay with Alpha. I can help you get a car, or Zeke here can. What did you do before running? For a job, you know?”

  Connor looked at his friend in a new light. It was unlike Chuck to offer to help a stranger, but he was being honestly helpful.

  Jason chuckled. “Believe it or not, I have a degree in accounting, but I haven’t touched a calculator in years.”

  “Ooh. You could help our little mouse, Libby. She’s swamped with the pack books and helping out almost every business in town. She might be a little skittish around you, but it’d be good for her to have some time off.” Zeke looked around to see if his idea met with Skip’s approval.

  “She’s a mouse shifter? Really? I’ve never met anything other than carnivores.”

  Connor burst out laughing. “No, she’s just really quiet. Came to town a while ago, lives by herself and really doesn’t talk to anyone. We call her Mouse as a nickname.”

  Jason scowled but nodded. There would be a lot of pack dynamics for him to learn if he planned on sticking around.

  “Let’s talk about the traps and what we think is going on there before we need to get to the barn and help Cammie with final preparations. I swear that human is fierce. She scares me.” Skip’s mock terror had the rest of the men laughing.

  Connor pulled out a notebook. Now that his pack role was over, he could concentrate on the sheriff one. He hoped whatever was going on in the woods had nothing to do with shifters and they’d find a couple of old human trappers trying to make a quick buck. Either way, he needed to make a good start on the investigation. There was no way in hell he’d miss his date with Margie the following night.

  *****

  “I hate lipstick. Why in the world would anyone want to smear fat-based color on their lips?” Margie muttered as she did just that. “Yep. I’m a hypocritical idiot.”

  She’d spent her entire Saturday prepping and primping for her date. Every single piece of clothing she owned had been tried on and thrown to the side. Now, as she stood in her bathroom trying to apply a color her mother would have called whorish to her lips, she second-guessed her outfit. It was a special occasion, as close to a wedding as you could get without…well, a priest. Being a good southern girl, she’d originally wanted to wear her denim skirt, but instead had gone with a dress she’d thought she’d never wear.

  Even as she scowled at her reflection, she couldn’t help but let the girly side of her jump up and down internally. She’d bought the emerald-colored dress on a whim she’d since used every chance she got to castigate herself over. It was satin and lace, form-fitting with a loose, flowing skirt. And gorgeous. It worked with her hair color, set off her eyes and made her feel so feminine.

  Stepping back from the sink and looking one more time in the mirror pulled a smug little grin to her lips. She looked good. Hopefully Connor would think the same thing and she’d finally get to kiss the man.

  A rapid knock on her door had her muttering under her breath. “Speak of the devil.”

  “I heard that and I know I’m not that bad.”

  She snickered. “Sometimes you are.”

  Margie opened the door and nearly fell to her knees to worship the god standing in her doorway. The only thing keeping her up was the knowledge that she’d ruin her dress, and she was hell-bent on wearing it out someplace at least once.

  Connor was wearing a cream-colored button-up shirt with a pair of black jeans. Her eyes wandered over him and took in the perfectly tailored-fit of the shirt. He’d left the top two buttons undone and a peek of dark chest hair showed between the lapels. The jeans drew her attention and it took every ounce of her will to keep from gasping or swooning. Outlined in great detail were a set of powerful, muscular, bitable thighs. She groaned internally. If she had one weakness, it was a set of well-toned thighs. She wanted to feel them, but even as her fingers twitched, she held back. It would probably lead to other things, which she was all for but not on Cammie’s mating night.

  “Wow.” She had to say something. “You clean up really well Mr. Manning.”

  When he didn’t speak she dragged her eyes away from his well-outlined package and found a stunned Connor staring back at her. His mouth was actually hanging open and his brows were so far up his forehead they disappeared under the shock of short bangs he had. When he started to do the fish-out-of-water thing with his mouth and no sound came out, she laughed. “I take it you like the dress?”

  He nodded, mouth still hanging slightly open. After a moment his gaze wandered back to hers, and if a look could cause someone to combust from lust, his would have had her in ashes. Need so scorching she felt it across the space between them burned into her belly. His coyote was showing, turning his gray eyes to a brilliant burnt gold. She clamped down on her inner sex-kitten, squeezed her thighs together and bit her lip to keep the moan captive.

  “Margie. You are the most delectable woman I have ever seen.” His voice had deepened, and when he stepped a little closer to lean in his breath tickled the shell of her ear. “I want to push you into the house, pull that skirt up and taste you until we’re both sated.”

  Her knees buckled. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her against an equally hard chest. She inhaled to say something snarky to him, to save face, to wave off the effect he had on her, but instead she melted into his embrace. He smelled so good. Whatever cologne he wore was dangerous to her clothing. She wanted to strip right then and rub against him until it permeated her skin. Good Lord, she’d become a slut.

  Margie snorted. Her inner monologue had at l
east dragged her back from the cliffs of insanity. Date first, sex second. Or kissing. Maybe they needed to do some of that before the sex. Inhaling another lungful of Connor had her toes curling and her belly heating. Nope. Kissing was overrated anyway. Another whiff had her moaning and her panties dampening.

  “Okay. I need not to be so close to you right now.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and husky. Damn, this man could turn her inside out.

  “Mmm, but I don’t want to let you go. You fit against me perfectly and I’ve wanted to hold you like this for a very long time.”

  If Margie had been a cat she’d have been loudly purring as he rubbed his chin over the top of her head. A warm hand stroked from her neck to the top of her ass and back up again, over and over. She listened to his heart beating steadily under her ear, and sighed. “Tonight is going to be torturously long.”

  Connor stilled and then chuckled. “Shit. I’d forgotten about the ceremony for a second. We’d better get going, even though I’d rather stay here.”

  With the steel weights of reluctance pulling her limbs down, she untangled her arms from his. At least the look of longing on his face matched the feelings boiling inside her chest. But he was right. Cammie’s happiness outweighed theirs for the night.

  She nodded after taking a step back. “Right. We’d better get going.”

  With a warm guiding hand on her lower back, Connor led her to his truck. He opened the door and ushered her in with a perfectly executed bow, including a hand flourish and the tipping of an imaginary hat. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

  She grinned like a fool after he closed the door and hurried around the front of the vehicle. She’d been surprised by the dirty words whispered into her ear, but this cute, gentlemanly side was even more interesting. Maybe her patience was being rewarded. She could only hope.

  Chapter Eight

  He was in Hell. Plain and simple. His body burned with need, his cock was hard and aching and his balls were so hard they felt as if someone was pinching them with a pair of pliers. Seeing Margie in that dress had nearly undone him. He’d fought for a few moments with his coyote over who was in charge. His animal had wanted to claim her right there on the front porch. The man wanted to make it through the night without coming in his pants.

  Peeking at Margie while they walked toward the barn at Skip’s house put a stupid grin on his face. All the discomfort was worth it. He’d been an idiot to ignore the pull she had on him, the connection they had even while they’d been at each other’s throats. He gave her hand a squeeze as it lay safely in his. She’d reached for him the moment she’d stepped from the truck. He’d been pleased she wanted to be seen with him in that capacity after the shitty way he’d kept her away, and his coyote was pleased to have her touching him. His scent was all over her, marking her as his.

  “You’re grinning at me again.” Green eyes glittered in the moonlight from under her bangs.

  “You caught me.” He shrugged even as the warmth of a blush burned under his cheeks. “You’re beautiful. I can’t help it.”

  She stuttered for a moment then ducked her head, squeezed his fingers and whispered, “Thank you. So are you.”

  Without a second thought, Connor yanked Margie into his arms, loving the feel of her against his chest, and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Delicate hands pressed lightly against him and he reluctantly released her, letting her step away from him. He missed the feel of her warmth the moment space opened between them. Looking down into her upturned face, he had to fight the urge to kiss her. The look of confusion and concern in her eyes told him a kiss would just make matters worse.

  “You’re sorry for what exactly, Connor? Hugging me?”

  He sighed. “I’d hoped to save the deep conversation for later, but okay, here goes. I’m sorry for pushing you away all this time. I’m sorry I’ve been such as asshole to you. I’m really sorry it’s taken me this long to realize that I was just being a scared little boy about the whole relationship thing. But I’m all-in now.”

  She blinked. Twice. “So. What does that mean exactly? After two years of me chasing you, all of a sudden you’re on board with dating me and I don’t get a say in it? Mr. Bigshot Connor Manning has decided it’s okay to date the town vet and she’s to fall into line and swoon over the idea?”

  The thinly veiled bitterness in her tone took him aback. That was exactly what he’d thought. And now she’d said it out loud, it made him feel an even bigger asshole. Could he do nothing right by this woman? His heart squeezed painfully. What if he’d waited too long? He quickly ran through the last hour. She’d been happy to see him, excited and turned on. But had he read into those signs too much?

  “Jesus. I’m a dumbass.”

  “Yes, you are. Good thing I like you enough to overlook it. Now try that apology again with a little less heavy-handed caveman and more humility.”

  Less caveman. More humility. Right. Tucking his self-conscious nature away and hoping no one saw what he was about to do, he threw a prayer to Fate and hoped he was doing something right for once.

  Lowering himself to his knees, Connor bent his head to the side, exposing his neck and looking up at a sputtering Margie with every ounce of pleading, puppy-eye begging he could. The heat of a deep blush warmed his neck and face, especially when he heard the masculine gasps behind him. Someone was watching, which meant he’d never live this down, but he’d do this for her. Slowing, he reached forward and took her hand in his and cleared his throat. “Margarete Barrie. Please accept my most sincere apology for being a complete idiot. My coyote and I have known for a very long time that we could have something extraordinary between us, but the man inside has been terrified of being hurt again. I took the scaredy-cat way out instead of manning up as I should have and pursuing you. Please, can you find it in your heart to forgive me and give this poor, clueless schmuck another chance?”

  He watched the most amazing transformation happen as his words filtered through her mind. She’d stood woodenly, embarrassment as clear as day on her face as she’d glanced around at whomever he had for an audience, but the moment he’d started talking her complete focus had been on him. Her limp hand had slowly curled around his and the gleam of unshed tears glistened even as a wide smile spread across her face. The confusion, concern and anger had fallen away from her gaze, leaving nothing but hope and acceptance.

  “God damn, Connor, you’re a pansy-ass.”

  Zeke’s words washed over him and sent the curls of joy back to the recesses of his brain. Before Connor could turn and kill his friend, Margie yelled, “Zeke, shut your face. Just because you’re jealous that Connor can actually apologize correctly to his woman and will be getting lucky tonight doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole. You’re lucky I don’t have my dart gun on me, or we’d see how much fun it is to shave a sleeping coyote.”

  Connor tried to stand up and the angry glare that had’ been focused behind him on Zeke turned to him. “And don’t you dare get up, Connor Manning. I haven’t accepted your apology, so I’d suggest you stay right there.”

  Even though her words were harshly spoken, a hint of a wink had him hiding a smile. He’d nearly whooped when she’d said he’d be getting lucky later, but he’d contained his reaction. He didn’t want to spoil whatever it was she was going to say.

  Margie bent over slightly, giving him a great view of her cleavage in the V of her dress’s neckline. A quick snap of her fingers dragged his gaze from the creamy mounds to her grinning face. “Up here, big boy,” she whispered, before continuing in a normal voice. “I have wanted you from the first moment I saw you. So let’s put all that crap behind us. I accept your apology. It was eloquent and bordering on begging—exactly what women want to hear.”

  Her laughter rolled through his body and pooled hotly in his cock. “Now let’s go get Cammie hitched so I can drink and manhandle you while we dance.”

  The chuckles behind him gave away the number of people w
ho’d witnessed the entire thing. He’d never live it down. But then again, it’d give him an excuse for beating the shit out of anyone who brought it up. A feral grin split his lips and a growl rumbled in his chest. He could fight to keep Margie’s name in good standing.

  A sharp slap to his arm stopped the sound but he still turned and smiled at Zeke. Watching the other man swallow and back away was good enough for now. No point in fighting in front of Margie. He could take care of the other man when women weren’t around to defend the idiot.

  “Stop growling.”

  Connor turned to Margie and smiled down at her. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”

  *****

  Could someone go into shock from happiness? If not, it had to be a close thing for her. Her heart was racing, her fingers were tingling and she couldn’t catch her breath. Maybe she was just hyperventilating. He thinks I’m beautiful.

  As Connor stood from his kneeling position, she’d wanted to jump around and holler like some insane football fan. He’d not only admitted that he wanted to date her, but he’d apologized on his knees, for cripes’ sake. In front of his friends and packmates. While giving her his neck. She knew what that meant, and for someone with control issues it must have been one of the hardest things to do.

  Then she remembered what she’d said to Zeke and blushed. Oops. So she’d thrown it right out there that she was looking for love from her sexy coyote. Where she should be mortified, she just felt giddy. Seeing the relationship that Cammie shared with Ian proved that shifters liked public affection and claims of emotions. All she’d done was admit to the truth. An internal shrug ended the issue.