by Candace Colt
Amused, he remembered how Elenora had wrapped an admonishment around her contestant reminders after the coyote’s hasty exit. ‘We simply cannot have an Ellingham event ruined by a chaotic predator and prey Armageddon. You must control your animals."
The royal ‘we.’ She and his mother had been carved from the same branch.
He still wished Connor had taken this gig. His brother was the showman; the guy who always wanted center stage. The party boy. All those traits Ryan didn’t have or want.
But, he loved how the Ellingham’s supported the Sanctuary. That made this never-ending wait tolerable. All the animals were getting restless, and the oblivious damn woman with the pacing cat was no help.
The falcon relaxed as Ryan smoothed the bird’s feathers and cooed to it. Except for cat woman, the remaining shifter-handlers knew how to settle their animals.
Trite, yet never truer; it takes one to know one.
When he heard the crowd applaud Jess Callahan, pride poured over him. She deserved every accolade.
What was his mother’s big deal? Jess left seven years ago. Nobody ‘carries a torch’ for anyone that long. He pitied any girl who carried one for Connor with two almost-weddings down, one on the tarmac.
His falcon’s talons tightened around the leather glove. "Sorry, girl." He placed his hand on the bird.
If someone would just lay a reassuring hand on him. Eating a bowl of sawdust sounded better than walking out on that stage.
After what seemed an interminable delay, the stage manager motioned him to step forward. "Ford and the falcon. Next."
From the stage wing, he made out a few faces. His mother sat with her little clique and Connor was nowhere to be seen.
No wonder his mother looked like she’d swallowed a turpentine martini. In the middle of the judges’ row sat Jess Callahan.
After the nonsense at the coffee shop, he probably put a lock on the last place on her ballot. Despite that, with Jess and his mother in the same room, this event had jettisoned to new heights. Before the night ended, he might witness a Shakespearean tragedy.
As his name was announced, he spoke softly to the falcon. "Let’s rock this place."
Chapter Eight
"Our next contestant has a three-year-old Kestrel falcon. This fully-grown female is an extraordinary ambassador for the Sanctuary. Her handler is a life-long Nocturne Falls resident, Mr. Ryan Ford."
Jess’s stomach danced a two-step. Why didn’t he tell her? She whipped through papers in her judge binder. Nowhere were the handlers identified; only the animals.
Well, duh. Who else would show a falcon?
In an admirable faked calm, she leaned into her creaky metal chair. Snagged on her smock, the binder jerked toward her and tipped on the table at a precarious angle. The slap to stop it jettisoned her pen into her lap.
Reorganizing, she mouthed apologies to the other judges and Elenora. Would anyone miss her if she dove under the table’s modesty drapes?
Wits and judge’s demeanor gathered, she focused on Ryan’s exceptional outfit. Gray, blue, and rust colored appliqued feathers interwove over the shoulders of his tweed jacket. His untucked black dress shirt hugged his torso. A mischievous lock of hair dangled over his eyes. And he’d shaved?
Had this sexy man been hiding inside Ryan all along? She wiped her hand across her forehead. Did the air conditioner quit again?
Hand shaking, she marked her ballot then gave him a sideways peek.
Words bounced around in her head. Irresistible. Attractive. Hot.
Engaged.
As he left the stage, Jess watched as the falcon closed her talons around Ryan’s glove.
He turned once more to her. Is this what a falcon’s prey feels just before the capture?
Dazed by her muddled feelings, after the Showcase ended Jess wound through the crowd on their way to the after party. Zoey detoured into the middle of handlers and animals standing next to the transport vans.
Inside the gym, Zoey caught up with Jess and Sierra. "These creatures are gorgeous," Zoey said.
"Speaking of gorgeous. Whew! Howdy Doo, the man with the falcon is way past good looking." Sierra had sidled up to them as they walked into the packed gym. "Those delicious chocolatey bedroom eyes were on you the whole time. You two got a thing?"
"I went to school with his brother." Jess fanned her skirt over her knees. Was anyone else in here smothering?
"That red face says there’s more," Sierra said.
Jess spotted a galvanized tub full of ice and bottled drinks. "Just a minute."
Mustering restraint from jumping fully dressed into the ice water, she opened a lemonade letting the cool liquid quench her thirst. Time to regroup.
What flipped the switch from seeing Ryan as a nice guy to what spun in her heart?
The jacket and black shirt that embraced him like a second skin? His sharp, dark eyes that cut through her as though she was the only woman in the room?
Or had it been an act to win her vote?
Among the most desirable men in Nocturne Falls, the Fords were in a different league. They were shifters from a wealthy family and lived in the Wolf Creek gated community on the other side of town; well beyond Jess’s world.
Making sure no one watched, she slipped an ice cube down her dress.
"I’d ice down, too, if I had a man like that staring at me," Sierra said.
Jess widened her eyes and stiffened. "Who’s staring?"
"Like you can’t tell." Sierra stirred her hand around the drink tub and took a fruit punch. "The falcon guy."
Shivers rippled over Jess. Was ‘falcon guy’ gawking at her through the whole ice cube cool down? Gypsum jacked up mercy.
"He’s coming this way," Sierra said.
"Stop messing with me. Why on earth would he—"
"Evening, ladies." A deep voice cut through the crowd noise and over the band.
"Well, hello there." With a smile wider than a six-lane highway, Sierra extended her hand. "I’m Sierra Everest. Jess has told me so much about you. Gotta run, but I hope to see you again. Soon."
Sierra’s Cheshire grin lingered as she slipped beyond Jess’s grasp. Good thing.
Clearing her throat, Jess summoned her perky voice. "Sorry, you didn’t win."
Ryan shook his head. "Not a problem for me. But Mother’s fit to be tied. I’m sure the Cougar won by a landslide. The handler’s costume was, well, seductive."
Jess pursed her lips to hold a giggle at how Ryan’s face had blushed. Coming from Mr. Conservative, ‘seductive’ sounded almost charming.
He looked to each side and leaned toward her. "Do your friends know about us?"
The death grip she held on the plastic bottled resulted in an embarrassing high-pitched crackle. "What about us?"
His gentle laugh that mingled with his clove and forest pine aftershave percolated some un-innocent notions of ‘us.’
"Our nether-side," he said.
Oh, that. Not us-as-a-couple, though for a fleeting second, that sounded good. Hold it. The guy has a fiancé.
And she knew better than to reveal supernaturals’ true nature to casual visitors.
"What makes you think I mentioned you?" That came out all wrong. And Sierra had already told the big lie that she had. "I mean; I don’t talk about men with them." Nobody would believe that. Time to shut her mouth and stay out of this sinkhole.
She scanned the room and realized there were more supers in here than humans. And tow humans better get to drinking some water.
The super standing next to her straightened tall. Very tall. Her eyes scanned up Ryan’s chest to his face, all smiles as he—oh no—stared at her. Even if the world chanted ‘om’ right this minute, her body wouldn’t take the calming hint.
"Hello, beautiful." A raspy voice buzzed in her ear.
Jess’s reverie door slammed shut.
Ryan’s face went rock hard and reinforced her hunch; things were about to get intere
sting.
Chapter Nine
Once Jess would have traded her left pinkie for Connor Ford’s arm around her. After all this time, it felt wrong.
"I can’t keep my eyes off you, Your Judgeship." Connor gave her another tug. "Heard you lost, bro. That little cougar had you by a mile. So, Judge Jess, let’s catch some fresh air."
"Too stuffy in here for you, bro?" Ryan asked.
Squirming from Connor’s grip, Jess could see Ryan’s growing fury. Standing between two livid falcons was not smart.
She arced her finger in Connor’s direction. "When did this become a ‘let’s go’ moment?"
"My bad." Connor waved at someone across the room. "I’ll grab drinks and meet you in the courtyard." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Faster than she could process, instinct drew her hand to where his lips had touched her skin. Not sensual or loving; a quick peck. Nonetheless, a kiss.
"I’m not sure what just happened," she said.
Ryan snuffed an indignant snicker. "My brother. That’s what. You’d never guess he’s getting married soon."
His expression was more than a few notches below joyful. He directed his dark eyes into hers with the same intent focus he’d had on stage.
"Be careful," he said.
"Of what?"
"Him."
College and working in Boston taught her how to handle men a lot worse than Connor.
Though he had one little trait the others didn’t have; half falcon.
"He’s a presumptuous jerk," she hissed, forgetting she was talking about Ryan’s brother. "Sorry."
"That’s a kind way to describe him. I’ll remember that one."
He hooked the tweed jacket over his shoulder. Perspiration had sealed his shirt to his broad, muscular torso.
A long inhale quieted her heartbeat. He wouldn’t be showing off on purpose, would he? Hardly. Not this guy.
A young girl shoved between them. "Can I have your picture, Mr. Ford? I have two tickets."
Tickets. Yes. Her brilliant plan to raise money with handler photos. She’d had no inkling Ryan would be the center of teenage infatuation.
"Jess, would you mind holding my jacket?"
Ryan rolled up his sleeves; an unwitting invitation to the entire female population in the gym.
The first girl was followed by two, three, a dozen. Young girls, women in their twenties, even older, lined up and waved raffle tickets.
With no clue how elegant he looked, Ryan graciously allowed each one to have a turn, even holding their camera phones. His fiancé was a lucky girl.
Connor was another story. Dread soured her stomach. He’d marched away under the assumption she’d sashay outside and wait like a pet dog. She could use the fresh air but to go outside would signal interest. If she could get Zoey and Sierra off the dance floor, they could act as buffers.
But how would she pull them away from the two luscious men they’d managed to latch onto? If they only knew who these guys were. On second thought, they could take care of themselves. Their werewolf dance partners should be the wary ones.
Despite Connor, she needed to escape the hot gym. She’d deal with him when the time came.
The outdoor patio where she and Ryan had lunch yesterday had transformed. Fairy lights in tree branches blended into the night sky and created a starry canopy. Candles flickered in jars on each table. A magical wonderland.
She chose the farthest seat from the gym door and placed Ryan’s jacket on the bench beside her. She traced her finger around the beautifully hand-sewn feathers.
Except for one or two wolves, she’d never seen anyone in their shifted form. She couldn’t wrap her brain around what it would be like to see either brother as a falcon. It would never happen, so she might as well pitch the thought.
She ran her hand over the curls that took an hour to style, realizing humidity had flattened them against her head like plastic wrap on gelled salad. She wound her hair into an impromptu chignon and repositioned the flower.
As she fanned her neck hoping to capture the evening breeze, the seat next to her dipped under someone’s weight.
Instinctively, she moved away. She’d had all the body contact she could stand with Connor.
"This is much better. Mind if I wait here a minute?" Ryan settled his legs under the table.
Her head whipped toward him. Under the twinkling lights, his muscular arms, covered with a hint of dark hair, sent ripples through her. Holy gypsum jacked up mercy.
"No offense, but strutting on a stage was not fun. And I’m sorry about that paparazzi scene," he said.
"No offense taken."
He cracked a smile. "Seeing your face when I walked out on stage was the best part."
What did he mean? "Wonder where Connor is?" Though she was in no hurry to see him.
"He’s suffering a FADS attack," he said.
"What’s that?"
"Falcon attention deficit syndrome."
Jess’s laugh exploded. "You made that up. But it fits."
Ryan’s phone buzzed and he checked the message. "Doesn’t look like my brother’s making an appearance."
Had Connor’s fiancé arrived and swept him away? Or, had he run off with another woman? Don’t let it be Sierra or Zoey. For his sake, more than theirs.
"He’s heading to the emergency clinic. He slipped on spilled ice. Might have a broken wrist."
She’d hoped he’d disappear, but not something serious. "Should somebody go with him?"
Ryan kept reading his phone screen. Over the rising music volume, he nearly shouted, "Somebody’s texting on his phone. He says to stay and enjoy the party. And that he owes you a drink—" The music stopped.
"—and a dance." In the deafening silence, his words hung like icicles.
The band started a slow song, a pleasant change from the thumping stuff. The super’s sensitive ears must be rejoicing.
"If it wouldn’t be a huge disappointment, I might be a half-way decent substitute for my brother," he said.
Substitute for what? "You mean, a dance?"
Ryan unwound from his seat and held out his hand. "I may not be as smooth as the Boston men you’ve dated, but I might surprise you."
His offer was surprising enough.
“I’m not sure we should do this,” she said.
“Think my dancing is that bad?”
“Ryan, your brother told me you’re engaged.”
His hand dropped to his side. “She and I weren’t right from the start. It didn’t last six months. I don’t know why he told you that.”
Was this another game between the Ford brothers? Which version was the truth? If her heart had its way, she needed to believe Ryan.
She grasped his hand. His smile widened as he helped her stand. He nestled his hands on her lower back as she placed hers on his shoulders. When his cheek grazed her temple, current surged through her.
Giggling after a false start with her foot on his, they settled into a gentle, rhythmic sway. Graceful and effortless, he took the lead.
In his arms, the last days’ anxiety dissipated. His strong arms tightened around her and more electricity skittered up her spine.
What was happening? Had his woodsy cologne become an irresistible aphrodisiac? She flicked her jade ring remembering she was in Nocturne Falls. For all she knew, this was a magical spell. But shifters don’t cast spells.
"See the Bear Moon?" His whisper tickled her ear.
Full and bright, the sphere crested the pines. She tucked her head into his shoulder, filling her nose again with his musky scent. When his chin crossed her forehead, her body thrummed.
She should step away, but held in his comfortable embrace, she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, move. His warm breath crossed her wet lips and a craving chill ran over her.
In an instant, his mouth was on hers; his lips testing. His tongue skimmed the soft lining inside.
Her hands slid a
round his neck and pulled him tight. Their kiss deepened as their tongues danced. His fingers floated up her neck, and then laced in her hair, making small circles and ratcheting her longing.
Every reason to stop evaporated like raindrops on hot pavement. Rational excuses exploded. She wanted this.
And she didn’t. How had she let this happen? The sultry night. His strong body against hers. Their mingling breath.
Wake up.
This is a shifter.
Chapter Ten
"What’s gotten into you?"
Solange Ford’s unmistakable shriek filled the air, breaking Jess and Ryan’s embrace like a pin stick in a balloon.
"Your brother is in the emergency room, and you…you are dallying with this…human." Solange spat out the word as though she’d gulped coffee grounds.
Ryan stepped between his mother and Jess as Solange moved toward them, her head framed by her open hands. "You’ve taken this too far."
Jess backed into a trash can sending it rolling across the tennis court. She had no disease on the CDC alert list. She bathed daily. She didn’t belch in public. Was she that undesirable?
No secret what the woman meant. A non-shifter didn’t meet Ford standards. Same old story. Prejudice still choked people like Solange. What a blessing to go away to college and live in a mostly human world.
Solange waved her hand in Jess’s direction. "Miss Callahan, I suggest you go before anyone sees you."
"You’re the one who should leave, Mother."
Jess’s rage seethed. She’d been swayed by the moment; the moonlight; the nearness of this man. But she wouldn’t take any crap from Solange Ford.
"I’ll leave. But not because you dispatched me. I spent the last week working my tail off. I’m dead tired. And I don’t need a dime’s more of your family feud."
"Jess, wait," Ryan called.
Marching into the gym, she halted halfway to the exit. With a disgusted groan, she remembered Elvis brought them here. She’d have to call him for a ride home.
"Jess." Ryan had followed her.
Where were Sierra and Zoey? She had to get out of here before he sugar-coated Solange’s conniption.
