What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (10 page)

Was there anything in the world more right than this feeling fluttering inside her?

“There are parts of me you don’t know, and I don’t think you ever should,” he whispered. “You’d live a happier life not knowing about my world.”

What was he talking about? Didn’t they live in the same world—the one where it felt
so damn good
when they were together?

“Ryder, if you’re hesitating because you’re worried about me, you should stop.” The nervous energy swirling through her stomach gathered into a hard knot. “Am I looking for a relationship that ends in a marriage with a family? Yes. Absolutely. I won’t lie and say I’m not. But I’m not looking for those things to happen tomorrow.”

Tension-filled silence stretched between them, and when she thought maybe he wasn’t going to answer at all, he said, “Come here.”

This time, when he reached out for her, she shuffled toward him. A low hum—almost like a satisfied growl—came from his chest as his hands found the curve of her waist. As he gazed into her eyes, she could’ve sworn he peered into her soul.

“If we start something, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop, and I don’t know how it’ll turn out in the end,” he said as his hands ghosted up her sides. “I can’t bear the thought of hurting you. And the way you look at me—damn, Josie, I never want anything to change that.”

“Is that really what you’re torn up about?”

He nodded, his greedy hands gripping her hips. “I want you so much it hurts, but I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try.”

“Ryder?” She cupped his face in her hands as her stomach tumbled. “Stop trying.”

He crushed his mouth to hers in answer, slipping his tongue past her lips. She was helpless to stop the heat as it rippled through her. Between the spicy taste of the rum on his tongue, the warm, wet feel of his mouth, and the hungry slide of his hands as they gripped her waist and held her in place, she went dizzy. Desperate to steady herself, she flattened against the wall and grasped at his shoulders for purchase.

“You can take me right here or take me home to bed,” she mouthed against his lips as they slid against hers. “Either way, we’re taking this one day at a time. And tonight, I’m all yours.”

At the final word, he groaned and lifted her off the ground. Roping her legs around his waist, he gripped her backside and held her in place. A surge of something primal passed between them—a spark of want that superseded anything she’d ever felt before.

She
was
his.

And she’d never feel this way about another. There was no way to know it, but she did. Truly. With every hard drum of her heart.

He claimed her. Plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. Grasped her rear. Pressed her against his rock-hard shaft. Stole her breath and made her crazed with want. Over the sound of her thumping heartbeat came the sound of someone crying hysterically.

“Carrie?”

Slowly, Ryder set her back on the ground. Only then could she hear the breath punching out of him. He was hot, his forehead slick with sweat. The temptress in her relished the thought that she had the same effect on him…

Sliding from beneath his hold, Josie put her ear to the door. On the other side, Carrie gasped and then started uncontrollably sobbing again.

“What’s wrong?” Josie panicked. “Are you okay in there?”

“No, I’m not okay.”
More pained cries that tugged at Josie’s heartstrings.
“Did you know all along, Josie? You had to know. How could you not tell me?”

Josie frowned in Ryder’s general direction, though she didn’t focus on him in particular. “What the hell is she talking about?”

“Carrie hasn’t talked to Mitch tonight, has she?” Ryder’s attention shifted to the bar and then back to her. “I thought you guys just got here.”

“We did.” Josie pounded on the door, the piercing sting of fear rising in her stomach. “She hasn’t had time to see anyone. Maybe she talked to someone on the phone while she was in there, while we were—Carrie, let me in.”

Ryder went pale. “Mitch is gone.”

As he strode around a barrel and out of sight, Josie knocked incessantly.

“Carrie, if you let me in, we can figure this out.”

The door clicked and then was yanked open. Carrie’s face filled the gap. Rings darkened the skin beneath her eyes. Her lips were dry, cracked. “There’s nothing to work out. There’s nothing you can do now.”

Sliding through the slight opening and into the bathroom, Josie gripped her sister around the shoulders and checked her eyes. Dilated. Red. Tearstained.

“What happened?”

“I got a text from one of the vendors I’m supposed to meet with tomorrow before the rehearsal.” She hiccuped, choking on her tears. “She congratulated me.”

Josie waited for the story to continue and lightning to strike down.

It didn’t happen. Carrie dropped her head in her hands and shook.

“Sweetie,” Josie said, half laughing. “Whoever this vendor is, I’m sure it’s her job to congratulate you. And that’s a good thing.”

“Nooo, you don’t”—hiccup—“get it. You’re going to have to cancel your—your thing. Your show on my wedding. I’m sorry, I can’t marry Mitch.”

And just like that, the world came crumbling down.

Chapter Eleven

This wasn’t happening. Not now. Not when they were both about to have everything they’d ever wanted. Carrie wanted Mitch. Josie wanted her business to succeed. And she wanted Ryder. More than anything else.

So far everything had been smooth sailing. Well, not with Ryder, but the wedding was two days away, and the television crews were prepped and ready to roll on her special.

What the hell had happened to change that?

“Calm down,” Josie soothed, brushing her hand down Carrie’s back. “You need to get up off the floor and tell me what’s going on.”

Knees drawn to her chest, Carrie hugged them tight and rocked back and forth. “You knew—you knew all along, and you didn’t say anything.”

Josie knelt in front of her and lifted her chin with two fingers. “What did I know?”

“My name,” Carrie screeched. “You knew what was going to happen when we got married.”

“When you marry someone, you take their last name.” Confusion pricked her hard. Carrie was either drunker than she thought, or having a major meltdown. It was a good thing the cameras weren’t here right now. This was not the image either of them wanted Martha Silverstone to amplify. “Care Bear, I have no idea what the hell you’re—”

“I’m marrying Mitch Oakey.” Carrie looked right through her. “My name’s going to be Carrie…Oakey.”

What was she missing? What was the big deal with taking Mitch’s last name? “I’m sorry, but I don’t—”

“Say my name fast,” Carrie blurted, throwing up her hands. “Carrie Oakey…Carrie OakeyCarrie OakeyCarrieOakey.” Her future name morphed from words to syllables and sounds. “Karaoke. My name is going to be freaking karaoke!”

A laugh erupted out of Josie’s belly. As Carrie glared, nostrils flaring, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”

“No, you shouldn’t. It’s not funny, especially because you knew the whole time.” Carrie pointed into her face. “You saw the applications first. You had to know. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I swear I had no idea.”

But it was pretty damn funny.

Defeated, Carrie slumped against the whitewashed tile wall. “What am I going to do? I can’t be karaoke. Every time someone says my name, I’ll die.”

“Or break out in song.”

“Not. Funny.”

She couldn’t help it. The jokes were too easy.

Shrugging, Josie cracked a smile. “It might not be so bad.”

“Seriously?” Carrie’s eyes went wild. “Paging Carrie Oakey to the front. The doctor will see you now, Carrie Oakey. Oh my gosh, Carrie Oakey, I haven’t seen you in ages. I’ll hear karaoke for the rest of my life, and hate every person who tries to hide their laughter.”

Well, she couldn’t blame them.

Carrie needed a hefty dose of reality before she lost the best thing that ever happened to her…and Josie’s chance to be in the spotlight.

“Are you really going to cancel the wedding to the man of your dreams simply because of his name?” she asked, wiping her sister’s tears. “That’s something he can’t even control. His name was given to him, and he probably wants to pass it on to his children—no, scratch that.
Your
children. As his bride, you should be proud to take the Oakey name.”

Carrie made a psshing sound, blubbering her lips together. “Would you take it and be a laughingstock for the rest of your life?”

No. Probably not. But she didn’t love Mitch the way Carrie did.

“Honestly, Carrie, it didn’t even occur to me until you said it five times fast.”

“Yeah, but you were always pretty gullible.”

“Hey now.”

“You know I don’t mean it.” Carrie sniffed and then swiped her hand beneath her nose. “So you think I should go through with it?”

“Absolutely.”

Tired, glossy eyes stared back at her. “And you’re not just saying that because you don’t want to miss out on your special with Martha Silverstone?”

No. Yes…maybe?

It had been the first thing that came to her mind, hadn’t it?

God, she must be the worst sister on the planet.

“No, that’s not the reason.” It was a major one, but not the only one. “I want you to be happy.”
Absolute truth
. “And I’d hate to see you ruin something because of the way his name sounds matched with yours. That’s petty, don’t you think?”

Slowly, and after a long pause, Carrie nodded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“Come on, then,” Josie said, helping her tone-deaf sister off the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back out to your fiancé.”

…

Ryder couldn’t find Mitch anywhere.

He wasn’t in the men’s room, or at the tables in back, or out front. He’d checked, just in case.

Frustration setting in, Ryder pushed out the back door. It was an emergency exit, but the doors didn’t sound. The smell of cigarettes, sewer, and street grime hit him like a sledgehammer. Squelching the urge to spew, Ryder pinched his nose and searched through the alley. Senses tingling, he glanced one direction. Down the street. And then he scanned the other way.

A low growl reverberated through the air.

His heart drummed as rage lurched through his veins, burning him up. Keeping his movement slow and deliberate, Ryder turned on his heel. A wolf lurked in the shadows behind a Dumpster, its green eyes piercing the dark.

“Mitch?”

As the growl intensified, the wolf pawed at the ground. Closer. Out of the shadows. Smooth, dark fur flattened over his back and burst around his face. A familiar gleam in the wolf’s eyes had Ryder blowing out a relieved breath.

“Thank God it’s you,” Ryder said, getting a rein on the fury whipping through him. “You scared the shit out of me, Mitch. For a second I thought I was going to have to shift in the damn alley to protect myself from a rogue attack.”

From the day Hayden Dean took the position of Alpha of their wolf pack, rogue attacks had been on the decline. A few years ago, a late-night walk through an alley would’ve been like a welcome for a lawless wolf to attack. Now, though, the rogues were down in number. Nearly gone. Hayden had taken the pack from reckless to civilized. Some people were born to be leaders. Others were…well, others did what they could to survive.

“What the hell are you doing, anyway?” Ryder double-checked to make sure the emergency exit was closed completely. “You’re lucky Josie or Carrie didn’t come out here and catch you like that.”

I’m drunk enough that I might not care if she sees me,
Mitch said through their pack’s process of mind-speak.
What do you think?

Projected thoughts could carry through the pack, even if one was in human form and one was in wolf form. Ryder could block the thoughts if he chose, but he’d never cut Mitch out. Especially not now when his behavior was so damn weird.

“You know I’m all for revealing this side of yourself,” Ryder said, striding toward his friend. “But this might not be the right time. You’re both drunk.”

Exactly. I could finally get this off my chest without freaking out about it.
He plopped onto his back haunches and nearly fell sideways into the Dumpster.
And there’s a very real chance she could forget about it in the morning.

“That’s kind of defeating the purpose.” Did he not understand how important this part of him was? “You
want
her to remember. You want her to accept you completely, and have no doubts about the ceremony or who you really are.”

Was he the only one seeing the situation clearly?

“You could scare her this way,” Ryder said, appealing to his logical side. “But if you sit her down and explain the dynamic of shifting, and how you were turned during an attack, she might understand. She’d still be afraid, but it’d be different than running into a werewolf in a dark alley.”

She won’t be scared.
He sneezed, his muzzle touching the ground.
It’s me.

“You know that, and I know that, but she doesn’t. You’re more formidable than you think.” Ryder patted his friend on the head. “She’s not prepared for this.”

But neither of them was prepared for the back door to swing open with a deafening
creak
. Ryder pushed Mitch into the shadows, hiding him with his legs as Carrie and Josie burst into the alley.

“There you are,” Carrie slurred, stumbling over her two feet. Josie held her upright, arms beneath her sister’s armpits. “Have you seen my fiancé? You might know him. His name is Mr. Oakey. O-A-K-E-Y. And I loooooove his name, just so you know. You can tell him that, too.” She made a flying motion with her hand, and then zipped her lips closed. “And I’m A-O-Kay with taking it.”

Mitch had been right earlier: she probably wouldn’t remember a damn thing in the morning. She was toasted.

“That’s great, Carrie. I like his name, too.” Nerves shot through him as Mitch pawed at his feet. “Hey, you know what? I saw Mitch come out of the bathroom a few minutes ago. Why don’t you go check on him?”

Josie frowned, her gaze shooting to the shadows near the ground.

“That’s strange.” Carrie blinked slowly. “Because the smarty-pants bartender said you two
left out the back
a few minutes ago.”

“He was wrong.”

Planting a hand on Mitch’s forehead, Ryder pushed him back. Still, his drunk friend edged forward, pressing against his legs. He was about to seriously step over the edge.

Telling Carrie the truth was one thing. Outing himself in an alley to Carrie
and
her sister—non-shifters—was breaking wolf pack law.

Tell her I have something to show her,
Mitch projected from behind him.

“You’re being a drunken fool and not thinking straight,” Ryder bit out. “It’s not a good idea, and you know it.”

“Excuse me?” Hand over her heart, Josie stepped closer. “What’s not?”

Damn it, in his panic he’d forgotten she couldn’t hear werewolf mind-speak.

Filled with fear and frustration, he shook his head. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Tell her,
Mitch said.
Better give her a warning or something. This alley is about to get a whole lot hairier.

“Don’t do this.” Panic welled up inside him. “I’m warning you.”

Stopping, Josie put up her hands. “Warning me? About what?”

I’m coming out.

“Don’t.” He was wound so tight, he could burst. “Not like this. It’s not going to end well and you know it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met, you know that?”

And she didn’t know the half of it. In a few seconds, though, she was about to get the real picture from Mitch.

One…two…

“Will you take Carrie back inside?” Ryder rattled, anxiety shaking him to the core. “Please? I’ll meet you—”

But before he could finish, Mitch counted to three and darted around Ryder’s legs. He rounded the Dumpster. Slipped as his front legs tangled together. Screams exploded through the alley as Mitch tore through it and slid to a stop in front of Carrie. Dragging her sister into her arms, Josie shrieked. Backed against the grimy wall.

And then she eyed Ryder with a mixture of alarm, sheer terror, and bewilderment. That look—right there—was the one he’d been desperate to avoid. He could almost read her thoughts as her attention turned from the wolf to where he stood, facing them, hands in his pockets.

For facing a large black wolf in a dark alley, he was too calm.