by T. S. Joyce
“I’ll go on a walk with you,” he said low, then chugged the last few sips of the coffee she’d made him. He hadn’t even sniffed it for poison before he drank, and if that didn’t say something about his growing trust for the woman, he didn’t know what did.
The late afternoon shadows stretched across the porch, so he grabbed Em’s jacket off the hook by the door and helped her into it. Did she need his help? Hell no. Likely, Em didn’t need anything from anyone, but he liked that she let him dote on her in his own way. She’d done that at the bar last night, too—let him lead her inside, let him buy her a drink, let him help her down off the bar. Emily Vega was one sexy, little boner-maker.
As she pulled on her rubber boots by the door, he could tell Em was excited. Her eyes were a clear blue, dancing just above her smile, and she didn’t even zip her jacket before she strode out onto the porch and bounced down the stairs with a graceful step. From the wood pile, she grabbed a long walking stick as Chance practically floated behind her, drunk on her scent. He had to get his crap together. If Em figured out how hard he was falling, she would run like prey.
Chance cast one last glance back at the cabin before he broke the tree line. Emanuel Vega had bought himself a right fancy home with a roof that pitched all the way to the ground. On the second story was the front door surrounded by a sprawling deck, accessible by a set of steep porch stairs. The wood on the house was stained a rich chocolate brown, while Alaska usually bullied every other wood into a beat-up gray color. Even the roof shingles looked fancy. The mortgage on this place must be crazy.
“What do you do for work? I mean besides killing evil creatures of the night.”
“Don’t tease.” She pouted. “I never took a life.”
Wrong. She was stealing his right now without even knowing it. His heart thumped erratically as she slipped her hand into his. So small, but with a grip strength that said she was a calm exterior with weapons on the inside. She had perfect little callouses on the meat of her palm, probably from knife training, and she was a study in opposites that had him hooked, wanting to know everything about her. Every secret, every wish, every memory.
“I can’t pay on this place much longer. It only has about five years left on the bank note, but it’s kind of extravagant. I was fine when I was living in my apartment in Anchorage, but I’m blowing through my savings here. And I’m a—” She stopped and glared up at him. “Swear not to laugh.”
“I would never laugh,” he lied through a grin.
Em narrowed her eyes and pursed her sexy lips into a thin line. “My dad was a doctor, and I really looked up to him when I was a kid,” she said, continuing her hike beside him down a worn ATV path.
“Before you knew he was evil,” Chance joked.
“Yeah, before that,” she said, shoving him gently. “I was raised by my mom, but I came here to visit my dad for weeks at a time. Not often, mind you, but it was something I looked forward to. Being Galena’s only doctor, he couldn’t take that much time off work, so he would take me to the med clinic when I got older, and I would watch him take care of people. I thought he was the greatest. Just…a hero. I mean, looking back he wasn’t really nice to anyone, but to a kid, he was awesome. So I was going to grow up and be a doctor just like him. Only I wasn’t that good at school, so after high school, I did a two year program. Don’t move another step,” she said nonchalantly as she pressed her hand on his chest and halted his forward motion. Without a single hesitation, she jammed her walking stick down into a pile of dry leaves. A bone rattling snap sounded as metal hit metal. A trap.
Chance stared in shock at the sharp metal teeth that had snapped the thick stick like it was little more than a toothpick.
“A walk on your land,” he murmured.
“To de-booby-trap it,” she said with a bright smile.
Dangerous little hunter. If she hadn’t stopped him, his leg would be snapped in half like the stick in her hand. With a little human growl, Em yanked the metal peg from the base of the tree and toted the heavy trap, the metal bouncing against her leg as she walked on.
“How many traps have you set?”
“Loads. I wasn’t going to go out the way my uncle said my dad did, hunted in the night.”
She disarmed three more traps and a snare before he recovered enough to speak again. “You’re terrifying, you know that?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re soft-spoken, fun, and you seem totally normal, but you’ve learned a skill set that would probably put most hunters in Alaska to shame, haven’t you?”
She shot him a troubled look. “That wasn’t really my choice. If I didn’t train, I was made to feel like a failure. It was the only way to please the Vega side of my family.”
“Okay, tell me. Tell me what you did for work back in Anchorage. I’m prepared now. Assassin? Mercenary? CIA? Martial arts trainer? Butcher?”
“Veterinary technician,” she said through an amused grin.
Well, that drew him up short. “Monster killer by night, animal hero by day? You are a surprising woman, Em.”
She giggled and bumped his shoulder, then handed him the heavy traps as she set off another one. The cold metal chains and wire snares against his palm sent a ripple of chills zinging up to his shoulder, and he had to focus not to cringe away from them. He’d come here as a wolf to return her cell phone and, about now, he was feeling pretty damned lucky he’d missed all the hidden dangers.
“I told my dad it was because I was learning about the arteries of animals and a bunch of other bullshit, but truly and secretly, I love animals. I like them better than people, I think. If he knew the truth, he would be rolling over in his grave right now.” Her voice dipped low and troubled. “Wherever that is.”
Mmmm, it was best she didn’t think about that. Ian and Jenner had been on body stashing patrol the night Vega had attacked. They probably flew him out into the wilderness somewhere and buried him in a shallow, unmarked grave that asshole didn’t even deserve. A memory of Dalton standing on Chance’s back, bucking against the taut rope, struggling for air, slithered across his mind, and he swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat. He would’ve been less kind about Vega’s final resting place if he were the one hiding bodies that night.
“I should tell you I have to go back to Silver Summit Outfitters tomorrow.”
“You have a tour booked?”
“Not specifically. Sometimes our clients like to pick the guides when they get there, and we have three groups coming in this week. But along with that comes a lot of prep work. There is a ton of work that goes on behind the scenes to make sure each guided tour runs smoothly.”
Em leaned into him, cornflower blue eyes brightening. “Like what?”
Unable to keep from touching her, Chance switched the traps to his other hand and draped an arm around her shoulders. He sniffed her hair quietly just to get a whiff of the flowery shampoo she used, then explained. “Firewood is a constant. Dalton and I are always chopping because the lodge is huge and hard to heat. Caring for the horses is a never-ending job. Packing is a learned skill, so we are constantly checking and re-checking our packs, making lists, and figuring out the best way to pack the horses. And Lennard is a perfectionist, so we’re always trying not to kill him when he goes behind us and makes sure we have everything. Even if I had a hundred years’ experience, he’d still be in that barn making sure I have everything for my clients to have a good trip.”
“Lennard is your boss?”
“He and Jenner Silver. They’re co-owners of the lodge. Lennard almost lost it a while back, but Jenner believed in it and dug his heels in. He put up the money to keep the lodge running. Between him, Dalton, and myself, we have a certain…skill set…that sets us apart from other outfitters.”
“You mean sensitive noses, animal instincts, impeccable hearing?”
Chance snuck a kiss to her temple. “Exactly.”
She responded to the affection by wrapping her arms around hi
s waist and smiling up at him. He stopped and dropped the traps into the mud beside him. Cupping her cheeks, he stared at her just to put this moment to memory. This was the first time that Em had first looked at him like this, like he was everything. Rosy cheeks in the speckled sunlight streaming through the evergreen canopy, bright blue eyes, strands of wavy chestnut hair tumbling over her shoulders, and a smile that made his heart stop. Slowly, he leaned down and sipped her lips. She responded instantly, leaned into him, and clutched at his sweater, like she didn’t want him to stop touching her ever. Like she wasn’t scared of him at all.
Chance combed his fingers through her silken hair and cupped her neck as he angled his face and slipped his tongue just beyond her parting lips. God, she tasted divine. And the second she let off a sexy little helpless moan, as though she was feeling the weight of this moment like he was, Chance was gone. He didn’t care about who she was yesterday. Hell Hunter blood ran through her veins, sure, but she was so much more than that. Every attribute he learned about her made him like her more. She was a lightweight drinker, a people pleaser, and a secret badass. She was an outsider looking for connection, and she owned her mistakes. She was a decent person trying to figure out who she was, and he was in it now, completely ready to walk beside her as she discovered herself.
Whatever Link said, whatever his alpha decided, Chance would stick by Em and defend her because she was everything he’d wanted for so long. She was everything his wolf wanted—his match in every way.
Em gave him a gentle, soft smack of her lips and eased back, eyes tightly closed.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, afraid he’d pushed too hard, too fast.
“I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
She shook her head slightly and rested her cheek against his chest. “Of how much I like you.”
Chance’s heart thumped against his breastbone. As he held her tight against him in the saturated afternoon sunlight, he understood her completely. She now held the power to hurt him infinitely, and apparently he wielded the same strength when it came to matters of her own heart.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Em. I won’t ever hurt you.”
Chapter Ten
“Don’t get mud on my good shoes,” Emily joked as she squished down the path toward the cabin in her muddy rubber boots.
Chance laughed and tossed the third load of traps into the growing pile near the hill of simmering ashes in the front yard. She would sell them to trappers sometime this week and be done with another layer of her old life.
Something wet and slimy hit her hand, and she gasped. Glaring down at her mud-streaked fingertips and jacket sleeve, she said, “Brute! I dressed up for you!”
“In dirt-splattered tights and the same jacket you wear every day?” he asked, wadding up another icky mud ball.
“High maintenance,” she accused, speed-walking out of throwing distance.
“Mmmm, don’t get me wrong woman. I love watching you work those filthy tights, but I’m calling bullshit on you dressing up for me. You didn’t even know I was coming over today. Next time, wear nothing if you want to impress me.”
“That’s it. The date is off.” She giggled and dodged a lobbed mud ball. “It’s off, I say. We’re breaking up.”
“I haven’t even told you where I’m taking you. Are you sure you want to end us before we begin? Because I will not monster-fuck you in your sleep if you call this off.”
She burst out laughing and chucked a wad of mud at him. Irritatingly, he danced out of range and only caught a couple of splatters on his light gray sweater.
He looked down at his shirt incredulously, then lifted his light green eyes to hers. Determination and amusement swam there now, and she squeaked and bolted, scooping a handful of ick off the ground as she ran. Damn the mud. It was sucking at her boots like quick sand as she ran for the side of the house. He was right behind her now, laughing in that deep, sexy way of his. With the realization she was caught, she turned at the last second and wiped a handful of mud across his face.
“Ah!” he yelled, hooking her waist and dragging her to a stop. He wiped a handful of mud down the side of her hair.
“Animal!”
“And proud.” He growled and then nipped her lips.
She bit him back and squeezed his ass with her muddy hands. “Mine,” she teased.
When Chance turned, he had perfect, tiny handprints on his jeans’ pockets. “Mine,” he countered, squeezing her boobs gently and making two handprints.
Determined, she bent down and grabbed two handfuls of the dark brown muck, rubbed it all over him until her hands were wiped clean, then squeezed his dick. “All mine.”
His gaze went deadly serious as he stared down at her hand on his crotch. When he lifted his eyes, they looked brighter. Lighter. Perhaps it was all the dark mud on his face, but she thought she could see his wolf there. Chance pulled her in so suddenly, her stomach dipped like she’d fallen from a great height. The growl in his throat revved her from zero to sixty in the instant right before his lips crashed onto hers.
She gripped the back of his hair with her filthy hands, and the snarl in his throat intensified as he lifted her off the ground, hooking her legs around him. The mud had hindered her gait, but Chance walked her backward as if it didn’t impact him at all. Sexy, snarling werewolf was kissing her throat now. Arching her neck back, she was blinded by the sunlight and closed her eyes against it. Her back hit the side of the house, and she could feel him now. His long, thick erection pushed against the fabric of their clothes as he rocked his hips against her. Holy hell, Chance was hot. And not in the pretty-face-but-no-substance way, but in the capable, animalistic, rugged, scarred-up lover who harnessed and hid the power of a wolf kind of way.
She moaned as she felt his teeth against the tripping pulse at the base of her neck. She should be so scared right now. All of her training had taught her to never get in this situation, throat exposed to a predator, but she’d believed Chance when he’d given her the oath he wouldn’t hurt her. She trusted him.
Rolling her hips, she met his motion in just the right spot. Too many clothes. Desperation to touch his skin made her lose all logic. “I’m on birth control.”
“Fuck, woman, what are you telling me?”
“I want you.” In me.
Chance reared back and searched her eyes intently, then settled her on her feet and ripped her jacket backward. As soon as she was free of her coat, she shoved his shirt upward as he backed her toward the front of the house. His platinum blond hair was sexy and all mussed like he’d just woken up when he escaped his sweater, and she was awed with how rigid his muscles were under her fingertips as she dragged her touch down his defined chest and abs to his jeans. Dear goodness, he was the most well-made man she’d ever laid hands on, and he was looking at her the same way, as if he’d won the lottery.
Swaying from side to side as he ushered her toward the porch stairs, he pulled her shirt off and draped it on the railing. “I fucking love this,” he murmured in a husky voice as he popped her full breasts out of the cups of her leopard print bra. Mortified at how her teats looked from this angle, she moved to unsnap her bra in back, but he dragged her hand to his lips and bit down gently, right between her index finger and thumb. “No,” he reprimanded.
Oooh, sexy man, okay. He liked her tits like this? Fine. He didn’t mind her covered in mud either, so maybe Chance was an easy man to please.
With a soft suck of her finger, he released her, and she immediately went for his jeans again. Unsnapped and unzipped, the jeans were shimmied just low enough to unsheathe his erection. In truth, she’d thought about what he looked like naked more than she would care to admit out loud, but her imagination was bland compared to the real thing. Eight-pack abs led to an intimidatingly thick shaft. Holy shit, it had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and no one like this.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, as though he could sense her intimidation. He
grinned and amended, “The first time.”
Chills blasted across her skin, and it wasn’t from the stiff breeze. Chance lifted her up again, holding the backs of her knees around him as he climbed the stairs. The man wasn’t even struggling under her weight or breathing hard, and once again, she was reminded how much strength he kept hidden. But a piece of her was melting just knowing that he was exposing his hidden side to her, little by little.
He was trusting her with the deepest parts of himself, and she was honored that a good man would even allow her to see that side of him. But more than that, she was relieved there was still a chance for them. That she was still redeemable in his eyes.
Hugging Chance’s neck tightly, she kissed him to the sound of the door creaking open behind her. The fire in her belly had turned to slow churning magma as her heart latched onto him more and more.
Settling her on her feet, Chance murmured against her lips, “This will change things for me.”
“How,” she asked on a breath.
“It feels different than with other women.”
Emily sank her teeth hard into his bare shoulder. “Don’t talk about other women, or I’ll hunt them all down.”
A wicked smile stretched his lips. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, you jealous little hellion, and I wouldn’t dream of releasing you onto the swarm of the three women I’ve been with, but you should know my wolf is calling for you.”
“Calling for me?” she asked, confused.
Chance laid her down on the bed, reached behind her, and unsnapped her bra with an easy snick. “Howling, more like. He approves of you.” With a soft growl, he lowered his lips to her taut nipple and drew it against his tongue.
She was losing her mind, losing control of her body as she arched against him in a silent plea for more, but she needed to say this before she lost her words completely. Lifting his face from her breast, she whispered, “Chance?”
