Spurred Fate: Book Two: Black Claw Ranch

by Lane, Cecilia

  “And when we don’t turn up at the lodge in time for dinner, you’ll still have to ride out all this way to collect our parched corpses. Zero stars. Dead.”

  “Dead.” Joss laughed. “Good gravy. That’s going to slow down business.”

  His bear rolled through him at the tinkling sound. Another pleased growl rumbled in his chest. He fought against the urge to draw her closer. There was a limit to how much he could push. “All because you didn’t want to come out on the trail.”

  One of the bridesmaids edged near. Sandy? Candy? Mandy? He hadn’t paid attention during the introductions, entirely distracted by Joss. She and her two companions could have been exact copies. He was sure they each had unique and interesting qualities, but none held his attention.

  “Hunter?” Big eyes lined with thick eyelashes fluttered at him. “Can you help me back into my saddle?”

  Hunter frowned at the baby voice. He knew some men liked how it stroked their egos and fed into some kink, but it wasn’t for him. He wanted a strong, sensitive woman, not one who pretended at frailty.

  “Better go earn my keep.” He shrugged.

  “Flirt for it, you mean.”

  There was the shutdown. Joss tried to keep her voice light, but the smile on her face was as fake as could be. Her scent prickled his nose and made him want to sneeze.

  Fear. Thick, stinging, stinking fear replaced all the spicy cinnamon and striking briskness of her scent.

  She was his mate, and she was scared of him.

  For all the wrong reasons.

  Too much, too fast. He understood that. She was freshly wounded and needed space. What blossomed between them was entirely unfamiliar to someone disconnected from her inner animal.

  But that put him at a loss. He didn’t know where he stood with her. Smiles and laughs one minute, pushing him away the next. It was like she needed the safety of a wall between them, and panicked when she realized she’d let her guard down.

  He should have felt elated after learning she was available. Instead, it complicated matters more than he knew how to process. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt like a burr had sandwiched itself between his skin and his shirt. His shoulders felt too tight and his bear wanted to pout.

  Joss was his mate. He couldn’t deny the fact. Finding her should have been simple and easy. Instead, the hole in his heart remained unfilled.

  It grew bigger when he turned away from bright green eyes and walked toward bottle blonde hair.

  “Have you always been good with horses?” SandyCandyMandy asked in a simpering tone.

  “Born riding,” he muttered.

  He dropped his reins to the ground and Trooper stood still. He’d stay in relatively the same place until Hunter grabbed hold of the reins again, too. Working horse on a farm staffed by occasionally rampaging bears had to be willing to put up with some bullshit.

  One loop of his hands and too much wiggling to be anything but purposeful, SandyCandyMandy was back in the saddle. She threw him a promising grin, then nudged her horse forward. An ominous gaggle of giggles hit the air at whatever she reported to her clones.

  A quick glance found Joss whirling away just as his eyes found her.

  Hunter wanted to bite something, and guests were strictly off limits. Ethan would skin him alive if he beared out in front of the humans, then turn him over to Tansey for round two. Just the thought of going through the wringer with the power couple made him shift uncomfortably.

  Trooper caught his agitation and danced sideways with a toss of his head. Hunter stroked a hand down the gelding’s neck. The touch calmed his horse, but he had no one to do the same for him.

  Jesse peeled away from the group of groomsmen joking loudly in a cluster by the stream. “You’re being pricklier than usual.”

  Hunter grunted. He couldn’t take his eyes off Joss.

  “Better make nice with the guests.”

  “I am making nice. I’m just not jumping into bed with them.”

  “That have something to do with Joyce? Or should I say, the future Mrs. Shaw?”

  “Joyce was poison.” Hunter shot him a withering look. His bear rattled around in his head. The guests weren’t to be chewed on, but Jesse was another story.

  “And you wear your heart on your sleeve. Maybe you need to get laid.”

  Hunter choked back his growl. Yeah, that sounded right. And wrong. Which made it even more right.

  He already knew what Joss’s kiss tasted like. He wanted to lick her from head to toe and consume the rest of her, too.

  Good money said she was a laugher. He wanted to know if she was one of those girls that could go from pleasure to jokes and back again in the space of a single fucking stroke.

  “You’ve had a rotation in your bed since you split with Joyce. I know you’re hunting for your mate, but don’t go making the same mistakes. You can’t force love to happen. You tried that already.” Jesse shrugged. “Your mate will make herself known.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Hunter snapped. He tore his eyes from Joss and directed a glare at Jesse. “Maybe she already has. Maybe I can’t have her. So you can take your serene bullshit pep talk and shove it.”

  Jesse’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Has she? Our new chef? What the fuck, man? You’re just going to hold on to that fact and not tell anyone?”

  “It’s not that simple.” His bear roared in his head as unpleasantness boiled in his stomach.

  The clan’s second barked a laugh. “Is she going to bring a war with the wolves down on us? Call the cops and get our place searched?”

  “She was friends with Tansey before coming here, so there’s no telling what crazy is lurking around the corner.” Hunter grimaced. His next breath of air felt like knives slicing his lungs. “She already left one husband. There’s no telling if she’ll leave me, too.”

  There. The weight that had tied itself around his neck lifted a fraction. Enough to breathe again, at least. His darkest worry didn’t seem so frightening when given life.

  Did she fight for the man? How fast did she give everything up? Was she looking for a way out when he offered it to her?

  Hunter knew he made unfair assumptions. Knowing didn’t make those dark thoughts scatter. Even understanding he shouldn’t place the sins of others on her didn’t lessen the doubts that crawled through his head.

  He’d been burned too many times. He wanted a mate and cubs, but he couldn’t get over his own shit. That wasn’t fair to put on any person, much less his mate.

  Jesse canted his head. Whatever deep thought the man brewed up, Hunter didn’t want to hear it.

  He hauled himself back into his saddle and put distance between himself and the rest of the group.

  Chapter 8

  Joss busied herself collecting the last of the plates around the fire pit. Most of the guests had peeled away after dinner and drinks, some together, others alone, and found spaces in their beds for the night. Only Hunter and Jesse remained with the crackle of burning wood for company.

  One moved to get up, while the other seemed content to stay out under the stars for a while longer.

  “Thanks for the meal tonight, Joss,” Jesse said. “Let me help you with these.”

  And leave her alone with Hunter? That sounded like a recipe for disaster.

  “Oh, it’s fine. This is part of the gig,” she answered lightly.

  The dinner itself was a success. Food had been stocked in the lodge’s refrigerator prior to their arrival. While the guests freshened up, she set about to cooking up a gourmet delight to eat while they joked around an open fire and enjoyed the last rays of daylight.

  A day out on the trail did more than work up appetites. Joss finally felt back in her element. The pure delight over the menu of steaks, potatoes, rolls, and a campfire classic of baked beans was enough to privately pump her fist in celebration. Seeing the guests eat nearly as much as the shifters, and bicker over the last of the sides boosted her confidence.


  She’d done that. She made the entire party full and round with happiness. She didn’t need a fat bank account and a sprawling, sterile home to prove her worth. Her own skills earned her appreciation.

  “Sit,” Jesse insisted. “You’ve been on the move all day. Take a moment to rest.”

  Faced with a tug-of-war over a stack of plates, Joss let go. Jesse nodded to her once and set off toward the lodge. She shook her head in bewilderment.

  “He’s right, you know.”

  Joss startled at Hunter’s voice and whirled around. He watched her from across the fire. The flickering red flames picked up flashes of color in his eyes and gave him an extra dose of mystique he didn’t need.

  “We’ve already settled the horses and sent the little ones off the bed. You haven’t stopped since we started this morning.”

  She glanced back toward the lodge one last time. Light spilled out of the windows with a cheery homeyness. One lone figure moved around inside. She knew she should go and clean up. It wasn’t right to put that on someone else.

  The excuse was a poor one and served only to remove her from the temptation and inevitable hurt that sat by the fire.

  Her badger welled to the front of her mind with a sudden desire to stay. Her legs ached from riding, too. She’d looked forward to winding down in front of the fire and maybe sneaking an extra s’more or six once the others were gone.

  She couldn’t decide if Hunter being present was a blessing or a curse. Blessing because, hello, hot cowboy. A curse because she felt far too possessive of a man she wouldn’t touch.

  More than one bridesmaid had eyed him up all afternoon. He’d been polite when they chatted him up, but stayed distant, much to their annoyance.

  And her pleasure. And wariness. And confusion.

  Despite the badgering from her inner beast, Joss knew she needed to keep him at arm’s length.

  Knew, and failed.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “Just for a few minutes.”

  A smug smile spread across his face. He lifted a hand and beckoned her with a finger.

  Danger, Joss. Danger.

  The alarm bells clanging away didn’t stop her feet from moving toward the man.

  Joss took a seat on the ground next to him, bracing herself against the log that served as a bench for an old-fashioned feel.

  “Drink?” he asked, tilting a flask toward her.

  “Only if you promise not to take advantage of me later.” Stupid, stupid thing to say. That was flirting, and she was decidedly Not Flirting with anyone.

  Not even the hunky cowboy with one leg cocked up and the other stretched out in front of him in a leisurely, sensual sprawl.

  He raised fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor. Though I’m not to be blamed if you throw yourself at me.”

  “That typically how it works for you, huh? Dip your hat and they come running?” she blurted.

  “The wrong sort.” Gold flashed in the eyes he fixed on her. “I’m glad you’re out with us. I didn’t really want to dehydrate and starve. We’d never have survived without your delicacies.”

  The slightest bit of inflection on his final word poured heat over her. Joss’s breath caught in the back of her throat while she tried to think of an equally light response that didn’t come out mangled in four different directions.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “More shifter lessons?” She tried to wipe the smile off her face. “Okay, but make it quick. Those dishes aren’t going to do themselves.”

  As soon as her eyes closed, something floral hit her nose. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost feel the petals or leaves an inch from her nose.

  “Flowers?” Joss opened her eyes. He twirled the long stem of something pretty and blue a hair’s breadth away from her lips.

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy smile. “I told you I’d pick them for you. I’m a man of my word.”

  Her badger practically purred. Joss squeezed her thighs together to stem the excitement vibrating through her. He remembered his offhand comment and followed up on it when it had zero benefits for him. If he wanted to melt her heart, he was heading for success.

  How many times had she told Cal what type of flowers she liked, or her favorite movie? How many times had he gotten everything wrong? There was nothing worse than standing by someone and feeling completely alone and unheard.

  Days in Bearden were clearing her head and showing just how ill-fitting her life before had been.

  “This is the common camas,” Hunter murmured.

  “Sounds like what they’d name something uncommon, just to mess with you. Like Greenland and Iceland.”

  “No trickery to avoid a Viking raiding party here. This is a cute one. Rosy pussytoe.” He held up a stem with a cluster of flowers on the tip. Red rounded white and looked like the bottom of a cat’s foot.

  “How’d you learn all this? Is there some cowboy manual on how to rehab broken shifters?” That other half of her felt offended, then bite-y.

  The smile on his face fell and his eyes flashed bright gold. “You aren’t broken,” he growled. “Fuck anyone who made you feel that way.”

  “I don’t— It’s not—” She pressed her lips together, then reached for the flask. Warmth spread down her throat and through her belly. Heck, even her fingers seemed to tingle. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t from his nearness or the daring he spawned in her. “Yeah, eff them.”

  The words felt freeing. She’d bit her tongue and kept her opinions to herself for the sake of peace within the family. Her reward was betrayal and banishment. There was nothing wrong with her. She wasn’t broken. She was just different.

  “That’s the spirit,” Hunter drawled, smirk hitching up one corner of his mouth. He took the flask from her and downed another shot. “I learned everything I know from my old man. He’s the toughest sonovabitch I know, and the tenderest, too. Always had a kind word for my mother. You ever been to a rodeo, Red?”

  The nickname didn’t go unnoticed. Fighting the familiarity hinted with it felt wrong.

  “No. Never been to a rodeo.” Joss shook her head with a small smile. The suggestion would probably have killed her former in-laws. Dirt and cattle and horses and a whole world of other messes didn’t mesh with their perfect, uptight image.

  “My old man, he rode bulls. Taught me that, too. Even when he was competing himself—before he got injured—he’d always find a way to make it to my competitions.”

  Well, she knew what she’d be dreaming about. Six feet of gorgeous hunk strapped down to a bucking, wild creature in a display of pure dominance made for a pleasant night ahead.

  “You sound like you’re close,” she said quietly, repeating to herself her mantra of looking, but no touching.

  “Not as close as I’d like. I had to leave Texas years ago.” Hunter frowned into the fire and took a swig from the flask in his hands.

  “Not big enough for two Shaw men?”

  The hand he rubbed over the back of his head killed her teasing. There she went again, sticking her foot right in her mouth.

  “There was a girl,” he said after a moment. Strain tightened his voice. “It, ah... It didn’t work out.”

  Something itched at the back of Joss’s mind. He said he could smell a lie, and maybe she could, too, if she really thought about it. Certainly, there had been times when she knew without a shadow of a doubt when someone lied to her face. Hunter looked mournful enough for the words to be true, but there was still something missing.

  It wasn’t her place to dig.

  So she did what felt natural in an awkward moment, and made a joke.

  Joss lifted the flask for a toast. “To the dummies who let us go.”

  Hunter chuckled and snatched the flask from her hands. “May they forever realize what they lost.” He pointed a finger at her and squinted his eyes. “How come you don’t cuss?”

  Joss shrugged. “My mother always said she’d wash my mouth out with soap. Then when I got bi
g, she said it wasn’t polite. I guess it just stuck.”

  “Politely, fuck that.”

  She laughed, and the tension of before vanished. “I guess your dad taught you how to curse, too?”

  “Only the best for us Shaw men.” His eyes danced. “How about this one? Scum sucking dickhole.”

  “Good gravy.” Joss rolled her eyes.

  “Fuck trumpet.”

  She barked a laugh. “What the French toast is that supposed to mean?”

  Hunter dropped his voice to a low rumbled and slowed the words down like he intended to seduce her. “Shitbagging, pissflapping, knobhead.”

  Joss bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing. “You’re being a pain in the Angus.”

  “Fuckface shitmagnet.”

  “A real dill pickle.” She couldn’t hold back her amusement.

  “The real dill, maybe,” he said without missing a beat. “Slobbering shithouse assface fucknugget.”

  “Oh.” A fit of giggles killed her response. She shook her head and sucked in another breath and tried again. “Oh, fudge.”

  Her cheeks hurt from laughing, but it was Hunter’s eyes that warmed her from the inside out.

  Dangerous man. Tempting man. He made her laugh and looked at her like she was the most important person in the world. A dose of fear injected itself into her heart. The last time she let herself get close to a man, he’d ripped her love to pieces.

  Joss cleared her throat, then pushed to her feet and dusted herself off. “I should get to bed. Early morning tomorrow to feed this army.”

  He sat up suddenly, fingers wrapping around her wrist. “Don’t go.”

  Heat whipped through her at his touch, and she knew without any mirror nearby that red blossomed on her cheeks.

  He pulled her closer, turning her in the process. Then his hands landed on her hips and he guided her down into his lap.

  Holy macaroni.

  She’d tried to avoid the temptation that was Hunter Shaw from the very first moment she laid eyes on him. She had too many fresh hurts and complications that didn’t need to be put on someone else’s plate.