Amber's Ace (5 page)

If there was another male in the picture, he’d issue a challenge, go for the throat. But…the need to protect her overwhelmed him. Neither he nor the wolf comprehended the idea of having to protect her from himself.

“Someone else calls you his angel?” he growled.

“N-no.” A visible shudder shook her. “But…others have tried to imprison me. And I’m free.”

“I’d never bind you,” he began then thought again of the strong, fierce but ephemeral mate bond that might one day twine between them like insistent kudzu. The first shoots and tendrils of the vine already invaded his gut, reaching toward his heart, coiling around his soul. “Except if you were my mate,” he muttered beneath his breath. He switched tactics.

“You recognize me, don’t you?” He offered her the cocky grin that flashed from his bubblegum card, the one that had made him a popular fixture of Manhattan nightlife and car commercials, the one patented to make the metropolitan fangirls swoon.

“I don’t know…. I’ve never….” She stopped, realizing he still grasped her ankle. She was having none of that. Or him. She glanced pointedly at the fingers that wrapped her foot and then met his gaze with a boldness and strength that took his breath away. “I may have seen you once on TV.”

“More than that, though, isn’t it?” he demanded. “When did you see me? Eight months ago, maybe? The day of my great disaster?”

“Let me go,” she repeated, “or I will kick you in the face. I guarantee you won’t be so pretty then.” Her stare grew colder than the creek water freezing his nuts. She shook her head, the motion final. “I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you.”

“Little liar,” he whispered. “Have it your way.”

The moment he loosened his grip, she turned and shifted. The spring air shimmered around her. He stared dumbfounded for a moment at the sight of the beautiful golden wolf fleeing into the woods like a creature with wings. His wolf sat up and then rolled in ecstasy, delighted at the glimpse of his amber-furred mate.

“I’m Riley,” he called after her. “And you will know me, my angel. You can take that to the bank.”

Amber sat with her twin, Garnet, at a small, round butcher-block table in Julie’s newly opened shop, Celebrations, which fronted the main street of Los Lobos. Julie Pembroke was their older brother Chance’s mate, the newest addition to a decimated Northridge family still struggling to find its footing after being torn asunder by Magnum Tao so many years before.

Chance liked knowing someone had the elder Northridge twins under a watchful eye when he couldn’t be around to guard them. He’d probably balk at the word, but “guard” was pretty much the only description for the nearly suffocating way he hovered over them.

The reunited siblings and their mates formed the small support group so necessary to Amber and Garnet after their years of imprisonment by the Black Hills Wolves mad former alpha, Magnum Tao. Their brothers, Chance and Brick, were especially protective of them, and the family had grown closer than ever before, cemented by the addition of the brothers’ mates, Julie and Summer, and Brick and Summer’s young twins, Clay and Autumn.

Chance had installed skylights and solar panels in the roof of Celebrations, and sunlight poured down and also beamed through the huge picture window stocked with Julie’s drool-worthy displays of mouthwatering mini-cupcakes, her uniquely themed party ideas, and celebration designs.

Each arrangement shown in the window contained at least one of their brother Brick’s costly signature figurines, painstakingly carved from wood or stone—although his artistry was not usually a part of the cupcake baskets and celebration decorations Julie delivered all over town in honor of births, matings, first-time shiftings, and other Los Lobos milestones.

Julie consulted with her customers, drawing sketches, devising themes, and taste-sampling goodies toward the rear of the store. But the round table adjacent to the large front bay window had become Amber and Garnet’s domain. They’d more or less set up their fledgling jewelry crafting business there.

Some of the younger females in Los Lobos had taken to standing on the other side of the glass window, watching their activity in fascination, sometimes later dragging their boyfriends or indulgent dads to point out bracelets and necklaces on which they’d set their hearts.

Garnet remained quiet and reserved beneath the scrutiny, but Amber had started to come out of her shell and interact with the townspeople. That is, she had until that damn baseball player she secretly fantasized about had discovered her by the side of the creek, and she’d had to flee home to avoid talking to him, to avoid touching him.

His arrival in Los Lobos drove her crazy. No matter where she went, Riley Morgan and The Unfortunate Incident that had ended his career and brought him back to town were the main topics of conversation. Sometimes it seemed he was the only subject anyone could talk about. Except at Brick’s place deep in the forest outside Los Lobos, or here inside Julie’s on a quiet day, there was no escape from the gossip and chatter.

No escape from Riley Morgan, either. He seemed to pop up wherever she went, his gaze following her. She didn’t know which was worse, the baleful, accusatory stares or the impassioned, lust-filled glances…or the quick, amused winks he offered up on occasion. Could he read her mind? No question he knew how to interpret the hot blushes his perusal brought to her cheeks.

A few days earlier, while helping two of the town’s elder ladies, Miss Fern and Miss Claire, bake their endless loaves of banana-nut bread for Los Lobos Books and More and the newer Lobos Café, the ladies had run out of ingredients and shooed her back into town to the general store.

She’d reached for a coveted bunch of bananas—a rare commodity there—only to find Riley Morgan holding the other end of the bunch with his “good” hand. Their eyes had met and clashed. When their fingers brushed, a bolt of hot, sexy desire shot through her, shocking her.

She instantly dropped her end of the fruit cluster back into the produce bin. He did the same. Had their sizzling flesh-on-flesh contact scalded him the way it had her?

“Hello, angel,” he greeted her, his voice as gruff as if he’d just tumbled from bed.

He had to feel the attraction between them, to scent her heightened excitement, the thudding pulse of her heart, the throb of her blood whenever he approached. But there seemed to be something different from the day he’d first encountered her selecting stones at Hidden Maiden Creek and called her “angel.” Something less bold, more diffident. No doubt he’d come to the conclusion he should tread lightly around her. Damn small-town gossip, anyway. By this time, he would have learned she was the Girl Imprisoned, just as he was the Damaged Baseball Player.

“Take the bananas, angel face,” he’d insisted. “I’ll ride into Hill City or another town for groceries. Need a few other things they don’t have here, anyway.”

She stared at him, all ability to make conversation fleeing her brain. Standing so close, she had to crane her head up to meet his gaze. He was so tall he’d had to duck when he came in the doorway. She barely came to his shoulder. His wintry eyes dazzled her, pinning her where she stood. Behind the bleached-granite gray of his hot gaze, she glimpsed the quick amber flare of his wolf.

She sucked in a breath. His delicious scent whirled around her, overwhelming her, making her light-headed. Lost. Never had she thought about a male the way she thought about him. Never had she felt such hunger.

He hesitated but then took a tentative step closer, curling an arm around her as she swayed on her feet. His strength poured into her. Her warning alarms failed to chime. Instead, warmth and well-being cocooned her. She found herself not wanting to flinch away but to grab a handful of his plaid flannel shirt and bury her head against his broad chest, inhaling his rich, tantalizing summertime scent, reveling in it until she reached her limit of abundance. Like that would ever happen.

Mate
, her wolf reminded her mockingly. She needed no reminder when her innards were all aflutter.
We’ll
never
have our fill of him or his scent. Mate. Claim. Wallow.
Take.

“Want to come with me for the ride into the city, Amber?” His low words startled her out of her reverie.
He knows my name. Did he ask around about me?
Girl Imprisoned. No escaping the label. No question he’d heard the stories about her and Garnet and their long years of captivity. What else explained his sudden standoffishness, his reluctance to touch her?

“It’s a long, lonely drive without company,” he cajoled. “Come along. Pick up whatever you need in the stores. We can…talk. Get to know one another. We should, really.”

Should we?
“Why?” She drew back, certain he’d been about to say something other than “talk.”

“Because….” His wintry eyes held hers. Something like desperation flitted through them as he picked his way through a minefield of bad choices and incorrect words. “Stay.”

“N-no.”

“You’re like a bird, ready to fly,” he muttered. He looked at his injured left hand. “I’m damaged. Can’t even tame a baseball, anymore.” He dragged his gnarled fingers through his thick dark hair. “All I can do is stand on the ground and watch you.”

His words perplexed her. What more did he want?

“I only came for the bananas. They’re for Miss Fern and Miss Claire. For their banana nut bread.”

A slow grin, disappointed but still as sweet as maple syrup, spread across his handsome face. Goddess, he was good-looking. Damaged? Not by a long shot. She’d never seen so gorgeous an expression on anyone, male or female. That drowsy, sexy smile had sold a lot of beer and aftershave and automobiles, she reminded herself.

“Love those ladies,” he said. “Love their breads and muffins. Can’t deprive the town of that.” He picked up the bunch of bananas and deposited the fruit in her shopping basket then shrugged. “Only needed one, anyway, maybe two for my breakfast smoothie. I come in every day around this time to check if the store’s got any in. Met Miss Claire in here just the other day. Told her about my smoothies.”

“Smoothies?” Amber echoed.

“Yeah. Freeze ’em and throw ’em in the blender with yogurt, protein powder, spinach, and some other stuff. Good way to get my vegetable intake. A man can’t live on Gee’s greasy burgers and fried pickles alone.”

He treated her to an even-wider, more boyish grin. He didn’t move away from her, though, and his speech got faster. She wondered if he were consciously trying to make conversation to keep her there. His scent grew more intense. She had to get away from him before she swooned and made a total ass of herself in public.

Amber separated two bananas from the rest of the bunch and handed them to him. “Can’t have you going without a healthy breakfast,” she said. “When you’re still healing.”

His gaze met hers again, studying and thoughtful. “You know about that?” he murmured. He didn’t seem displeased by her awareness. “Healing. Like you.” His soft, deep voice confirmed her suspicion he’d also learned who she was since last they’d met. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

“No. We’re not a pair, Riley.” She purposely used his name, her boldness deliberate, his name both shocking and exciting on her tongue.
Riley. Riley. Riley
. Her wolf did a little internal dance.
Mate. Mate. Mate
.

“Not yet,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear as she moved away, heading toward the cash register. “But I’m a patient male.”

Her wolf preened at his deep-voiced promise.

“Enjoy your smoothie,” Amber replied, all aquiver inside though she did her best to ignore his suggestive comment.

The bell over the doorway to Celebrations tinkled as someone entered the shop, and Amber returned to the present. She looked up to catch Garnet staring at her. Her face flushed. She and Garnet shared everything. But she’d never mentioned a word about the former pitcher to her sister. She didn’t know if she could.

Instead, she fiddled with the small stone she wanted to string on a pendant wire, her heart still beating faster at the memory of her general-store encounter with Riley. Her ticker went into overdrive whenever she thought of her hunky ballplayer, and she thought of him a lot. She’d spent a day or two after their last meeting, not to mention nights, recalling the encounter and dissecting his words.

The fact he’d known her name meant nothing, nothing at all. Not in a small town the size of Los Lobos. He didn’t even have to ask about her. Everyone knew pretty much everything about everyone. She and Garnet had been minor celebrities after their big rescue from Magnum’s prison compound…that is, until the famous Riley Morgan had come back to town.

The more Amber thought about her encounter with Riley, though, the less it seemed coincidental. But why in the world would Miss Fern and Miss Claire engineer such a thing, sending her to the general store on purpose and at just the right time? Even if the ladies already knew Riley’s schedule and banana-buying habits—like Gee, the mysterious were-bear pack historian and barkeeper, the elder ladies seemed to know pretty much everything that went on in Los Lobos—why would they want to throw her at him?

True enough, Miss Claire had mentioned on more than one occasion her belief that amber aided love…. But why would the matrons care about the state of her heart? Or Riley’s? Even if they
had
caught the fraught glances that so often passed between them.

So high school
. On the other hand, she’d never gone through that, thanks to the evil son of a bitch, Magnum. Riley Morgan was her first crush. If her wolf had anything to say about it, he’d also be the last stop on the Boyfriend Train.

So far, he hadn’t ventured inside Julie’s shop, though. If he’d wanted to see her, he could have. The whole world knew she and Garnet sat in the window, creating their jewelry.

Although…Riley likely had nothing to celebrate. She recalled the horrific day she’d watched him writhe around in pain on the pitcher’s mound. His Day of Disaster, when he’d gone from being a renowned major league baseball pitcher, the darling of Manhattan, adored by models and starlets, to rusticating with a gnarled hand in Nowheresville, South Dakota. Her heart broke whenever she considered what he’d gone through.