What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (4 page)

Wasn’t happening.

“Why not?” She paused, searching his face. “Or I could come with you to save time. We could ride together to the couples painting after whatever it is you’re doing here.”

He was barely refraining from dragging her into his arms. Stuck in a car with her on stakeout might not be such a good idea. Her intoxicating scent would surround him and become a horribly welcome distraction. He had to focus to catch Mr. Boone in the act. Any time spent with Josie was counterproductive.

“That’s not going to work,” he said, nodding despite his rejection. “I’d planned on being late to your paint night, and wouldn’t want you to miss out on something. But I can look the applications over while—”

“I don’t need to be there on time,” she interjected. “It’s not like I’m running the event. I simply booked it and made sure the camera crews would be allowed in the winery.”

Always back to the show that would cement Mitch and Carrie’s relationship.

“The truth is,” he said, “when I’m on stakeout, I prefer to be alone.”

“You’re going on a stakeout?” Her soft brown eyes went on high alert. “As in, a legit, hunt-down-the-perp type stakeout?”

“There are no perps,” he said, forcing his tone flat. “I think you’ve watched too many
CSI
s or something. I’ll be in my car with a pair of binoculars and an iPad to make notes on. That’s it. Nothing exciting.”

“Here’s the thing, Ryder.” She folded her arms over her chest and kinked her neck to the side. “The clock’s ticking down to my sister’s wedding, and I spent the entire night turning over every aspect of his application. I’d ask Mitch myself, but I doubt he’d tell me if you won’t. But you told me you’d look it over, and I’m going to follow you wherever I have to in order to get the answers I need. It might only take a few minutes, and then I can take a cab to the winery if need be.”

She really didn’t take no for an answer, did she?

“Who knows?” she added, smirking. “I might turn out to be an asset to your stakeout. My sister says I have excellent eyesight.”

He couldn’t say no to her if he wanted to.

And he had the feeling he never would.

Chapter Five

As Ryder parked across the street from a two-story Victorian-styled home near Golden Gate Park, Josie unfastened her seat belt and twisted so that she faced him.

Did he know that he was total
Magic Mike
material? With his black slacks and impossibly broad shoulders hidden beneath a white business shirt, Josie had to wipe the drool from her mouth from the moment she burst into his office. From the way the shirt fell to his narrow waist, he was probably packing a set of washboard abs, too.

Good Lord, she could barely keep her libido in check around him.

And that kiss.
Holy. Hot. Damn.
She couldn’t think of anything else. Every time he spoke, she couldn’t help but study his mouth. Every word was somehow sensual, drawing her in, calling her closer.

What had come over her? He was the one who could ruin her sister’s wedding and destroy the one chance she had to grow her business.

They were
not
on the same team.

Rather than ogle him any more, she scoped out the neighborhood. Nice homes. Clean streets with brick accents. Luxury cars in narrow driveways. The area was supreme. Southwest of the Golden Gate, tucked into a corner of the city called Outer Richmond. If she opened the car window and breathed in deeply, she could probably smell the sea breeze flowing in from a few blocks to the west.

“So who are we scoping out?” she asked.

Better to butter him up with mundane questions now. That way, when he was relaxed with their conversation, he’d reveal what Mitch was hiding.

Fishing binoculars out of his bag, Ryder focused on a car at the end of the street and jotted down the license plate. “It’s private. I can’t exactly give details about this guy’s marriage problems.”

“So it’s a guy we’re looking for? And his wife thinks he’s cheating?” She shot him a questioning glare, and received a frown in return. “Is this the mistress’s house? It’s pretty. Look at those columns in front.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I’m not here to study the architecture of his home.”

“
His
home? He’s cheating on his wife with a guy?”

“No,” he said, and went back to his binocular search. This time, he focused on the high-arching windows of the house across the street. “From what I know, he’s not homosexual.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Josie blurted, feeling her cheeks heat. “If that’s what makes him happy. It’s too bad he couldn’t have realized his sexual orientation before getting married, though. I feel bad for his wife.”

Setting the binoculars on his lap, Ryder turned his attention to her. “He’s at his monthly poker night. One of his friends is hosting. That’s his house.”

“Oh, got it.”

As Ryder nodded and went back to his binoculars, she peered out the window into the night. The lights were on in the house, giving them an unobstructed view of a group of men playing poker near the windows.

“One of the living room windows is open,” he mumbled to himself. “Mind if I crack your window?”

She pressed the button to roll it down herself and strained to listen.

Laughter bubbled out the window and into the night, but the voices were muffled.

“Well, we can’t hear much from here,” she said as he continued to spy. As a guy near the window raised his hands over his head in victory, she squinted, trying to peer at his cards. “Looks like he just won.”

“Three kings beats two pair every time.”

“Those must be really great binoculars.” She craned her neck around to glance at him. In the shadows, his heavenly blue eyes turned the color of midnight. They were even more stunning than in the day. “How can you see anything from where you are? Aren’t you at the wrong angle?”

“I could see his kings plain as day, and assumed he won against two pair,” he rambled quickly, his voice a dark rasp. “That’d be a great win. Must’ve been why he was so excited.”

Was that a bead of sweat trickling down his temple? What reason would he have to be nervous?

“Do you play poker?” he asked.

“I used to play the old-school quarter games like acey-deucy and 3-5-7. But that was before Texas Hold’em took over the poker world. I used to have an uncanny sense for knowing when to go all-in and when to fold and run.”

He eyed her skeptically, his gaze hovering on her lips. “You claim to have a strange sense for a lot of things, don’t you?”

“I do. It’s how I’ve managed to set up as many couples as I have.” Pride streaked through her. “But what I don’t understand is why does this guy’s wife wants us to spy on him playing poker?”

“
Us?
” As his voice went tight, Ryder dropped the binoculars into his bag. “Why don’t you hand over Mitch’s papers. I’ll look at them now.”

Why’d he suddenly want to end their night so quickly?

The part of her that fought for victory rejoiced at his concession. But the part that wanted Ryder felt snubbed.

If he’d asked her to stay the night after this, she probably would’ve been on board. There was no way she’d be able to say no at this point. She hadn’t had sex in—oh God—had it really been two years? No wonder she was ready to jump Ryder’s bones in his office.

But he clearly didn’t long to be around her the way that she did him. She hadn’t meant to be annoying or intrusive. It was just that she’d never been on a stakeout before. Countless television shows and movies had made them look like so much fun. From the moment he said the word “stakeout,” she’d been bursting with excitement.

Pulling Mitch’s applications out of her purse, she handed them over. He scanned slowly. Flipped over the first page. Studied the second. Flipped that one over, and did the same. After reaching the bottom, he handed them back.

“Well?” she asked.

“The part about his family life is skewed.”

“You have to give me more than that.”

“He checked the box saying he wanted five kids and two dogs, when what he really wants is two kids and five dogs.”

She shot him her best disbelieving glare. “And he told you this?”

“Sure.”

“When?” she fired. “In your last heart-to-heart? Why would Mitch tell you how many kids and dogs he wants? Never mind, it’s not important. What matters is that people change. Tastes change. What if he met Carrie who wanted something different, and that was okay as long as he had her?”

Ryder fished his iPad out of his bag and started tapping something. “If you say tastes change and stick to that argument, it works both ways. What if the guy playing poker thought he wanted someone like his wife, a woman who had all the qualities he valued, until he met another woman who showed him something new? Could he throw up his hands and say his tastes changed? Those qualities weren’t important to him anymore?”

“That’s—it’s not the same at all.” She felt tight. Wound up into knots. “The difference is that this guy is already married.”

“It’s a piece of paper, Josie. It doesn’t mean
anything
.”

“It’s a union built on trust, honesty, loyalty, and a commitment to be together forever.”

He shrugged as if she’d asked him what he wanted for breakfast. “Not for everyone.”

“Like you, I’m assuming?” She turned completely so that she faced him. “You really can’t see yourself ever settling down?”

“No, I can’t,” he said, shifting his focus from the house to her. “Never thought that’d be an option for me, but since you’ve—”

As his gaze trailed over her shoulder, his words died off.

“What?” Her heart leaped into her throat. Had he been about to say since she came around and changed things? “What were you going to say?”

“The bastard is cutting out early.”

Nope, that wasn’t it.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

“Look. There he goes. Toward Golden Gate Park.” Ryder’s hand shot to the keys that lingered in the ignition. “We need to tail him.”

The “we” word didn’t escape her, and she tingled all over.

As he stared, she followed his line of sight. A short squatty fellow with dark hair and a bald spot walked beneath a glowing lamppost and continued his trek down the sidewalk.

“Is that him?” she said, her voice low. “He could be a Danny DeVito look-alike.”

“Hadn’t thought about it, but I guess so.” Ryder chuckled, pausing with his hand on the keys. “Wait—what is he doing?”

“Hate to state the obvious, but it looks like he’s going for a walk.”

“No, I meant it’s strange that he’s leaving his car behind.” Ducking below the windshield’s frame, he peered at the sky. He seemed to sniff the air, but that couldn’t be right. Must’ve been checking out something in the rearview mirror. “It’s going to rain. She must not live far from here.”

“Maybe he needed fresh air.”

Grabbing a coat from the backseat, Ryder shoved his arms inside. Zipped up to the collar. Yanked the hood over his head. “Do you always think everything is sunshine and rainbows?”

“Better than doom and gloom.”

“From my experience,” he said, his voice going dark, “doom and gloom is closer to reality than the former.”

Sadness washed over her as his words resonated. If what he said was true, it was no wonder he didn’t want Mitch and Carrie to walk down the aisle. He must’ve been jealous of the happiness they shared. Their upcoming nuptials must’ve shone a spotlight on what was lacking in his own life.

As thunder vibrated the air around them, his gaze raked her over. She heated through, her heart racing.

“Didn’t you bring a coat?” he asked.

“No. Didn’t think I’d need one.”

“Not even a heavier sweater? This one doesn’t even—” He started to reach out for her, but took back his hand with a jolt. As if she were fire, and he was about to get burned. “There’s not enough fabric to cover up anything.”

She glanced down. Her cream-colored sweater was patterned knit and see-through all over with a white tank built in underneath. She’d paired it with deep blue sailor pants with two adorable rows of buttons in front. It wasn’t the warmest thing in her closet, but definitely the cutest for the event at Bluxome tonight.

“I would’ve worn my secret agent spy gear,” she teased, holding her hands palm up, “but it’s at the cleaners from my stakeout
last
night. Sorry about that.”

He rolled his eyes as if he was irritated as all hell, but the hint of a smile curled his sexy lips.

“Here. Hurry.” He took off his coat, threw it around her shoulders as she leaned forward, and then darted out of the car.

As he charged around the hood, she nestled deeper into his jacket and was slammed with his masculine scent. It comforted her somehow, so she breathed it in again. And nearly missed sight of him jogging across the street.

She exited as the
bleep
of the car door locks slammed into place behind her. Sprinting to catch up, she reached Ryder’s side and struggled to keep pace with his strides. He was eating up the pavement, but the suspect was still so far away.

“How far back do you stay?” she called.

“Shh.” He put up his hand. “Never know who can hear you, especially when the wind is blowing like this.”

“You really think he can hear me?” She covered her laugh with her hand. “He must have the ears of a wolf.”

He nearly stopped walking and turned to her. “What would make you say something like that?”

“Don’t wolves have supersonic hearing? I thought I read that somewhere.”

“I guess.” His attention returned to the suspect, who was now a dark speck on the sidewalk up ahead. “But I wouldn’t know.”

“What do we do when we catch him?” she asked, tightening his coat around her.

“We’re not going to catch him at all. We’re going to follow him until we know where he’s headed, make a note of the important details, and then head back to the car.” Lightning lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled quickly after, reverberating off the buildings flanking the narrow street. “And hopefully before the clouds open up. Can you pick it up in those things? Or did you manage to bring your secret agent spy shoes with you?”

She glanced down at her glossy black heels as she hopped over a curb. They weren’t stiletto, but they were tall.

“Are you kidding? These
are
my secret agent spy shoes.”

As he muttered something that sounded like a disbelieving remark, she said, “Bet I could beat you to the next street.”

He shook his head. “No way.”

“I’ll make you a deal. If I win, you have to tell me what big bad secret Mitch is hiding once and for all.”

He scoffed, making a loud coughing sound. “You can offer whatever deal you want, but it’s not happening.”

There was something beyond the snoring, opera-hating, and kids-and-dogs switch-up. And Ryder knew what it was. But what kind of offer would tempt him enough to finally reveal what Mitch had been hiding?

Offer to pick up his bill at the winery later?
Not strong enough.

Give him a discount on a setup from her company?
Nuh-uh.
The thought of Ryder being matched with someone didn’t sit right.

But maybe…

“I’ll take off my tank top,” she teased, hands on her hips. He may’ve been stubborn and closed-minded, but he
was
a thirty-something male. All he’d be able to see without her tank top would be the form of her breasts, anyway. Maybe her nipples if she was really cold. Other than that, it’d be nothing more than a tease. “For the next hour.”

“As much as I’d like to see that, it’s not bold enough. You’d still be covered by your sweater.” Even though he poked fun at her offer, his light eyes sparkled with desire. “Even if you take off your tank top you’re not showing much.” A mischievous smile stretched over his face. “Unless…”

The blood drained from her face. Taking off the tank top beneath her sweater was one thing, but if he wanted her completely nude, he’d have to come up with something else. She was flirty, and a little daring, but drew the line at slutbag.

“…you take off your tank top for the paint night tonight.” His grin was so broad, the glow from the streetlights twinkled off his teeth. “Call it artistic expression. I’m sure the cameras will get a close-up.”

Damn it, for the first time since she’d made the deal with Liza, she’d forgotten about the cameras.