What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (5 page)

Pursing her lips together, Josie contemplated the offer. She would be covered by her sweater, even though it was thin. Better than being bare. And she still had his coat. She hadn’t said she’d give that back. May’ve been cheating, but whatever. He should’ve specified.

“Done,” she said, shaking his hand. Her heartbeat sped as his hand enveloped hers. His touch was warm and gentle, yet firm as his fingers curled around her hand. “But prepare to lose.” If she weren’t careful, she’d lose her heart to him, too. “Ready? One…”

Bumping him into the gutter, she took off. Her size eights struck the ground hard. She pumped her arms as the air punched out of her lungs. Picked up her pace. Light posts whizzed by. The corner was right there. Another few strides and she’d have him.

“You call this fast?” Ryder said from beside her.

She jumped, startled. He appeared out of nowhere. She hadn’t even heard him coming. His body moved, but didn’t seem to exert any effort. Was he walking?

How was that possible?

“That’s not fair,” she panted. “You’re cheating.”

“You cheated first.”

“But you’re—you’re not even…trying.”

He wasn’t walking, but moved his arms as if he was. Maybe he was jogging. Sprinting? He was moving so fast, without a sweat, without a single hair out of place. And she was a mess. Disappointment soured her stomach as the street to end their race passed. Realization set in.

She
lost.

He wouldn’t be revealing Mitch’s secret. Not tonight. No matter how much he teased about it, or started to let on that he would.

Josie slowed to a stop, clinging to the coat that’d be her savior. Lungs tight, she bent over, wheezing.

“That wasn’t fair. We didn’t start on time. We should probably do that again.” She circled her finger in the air. “Don’t you agree?”

“No way. That was a clean win,” Ryder said, hand on her back as she panted. “You better get ready for your close-up. Hope it’s not as chilly in the winery as it is out here. The place must have heaters. I’m sure you thoroughly checked it out.”

She moaned, though it sounded more like a growl. He removed his hand, leaving her chilled, and then laughed for the next three blocks. When the air finally agreed to return to her lungs, and the blood pumped to her tingly extremities, she said, “Danny DeVito got away.”

“No, he didn’t.” He pointed into the park across the street. “Look over there.”

Where?

Nobody could see through that park. It was nothing but shrubbery and shadow.

“He’s sitting on the bench smoking a cigar. Cuban, from the scent of it.” Ryder put his hand out to stop her from walking ahead of him. The notion was gentle and protective, making her go all swoony inside. “Wait, he’s taking a phone call.”

“How can you—”

“Shh.” He slowed to a stop in the shadow of a giant elm tree. “Reservations for tomorrow night,” he mumbled to himself. “Bourbon & Branch. Eight o’clock.” He squinted as if he could see through the dark. “Come on, give me a name I can follow up on.”

As he listened closely, she took a deep breath, struggling to pick up the scent of the cigar.
Nothing.
She strained, listening for the sounds of a distant voice. Again, nothing but her heartbeat.

“Ryder,” she said, huddling into his coat as rain began to fall. “I don’t hear anything.”

Slowly, he crept forward. “He ended the call, but he’s dialing again.” Seconds seeped by. “He’s meeting someone else tomorrow night, too. Can’t believe he’s lining them up. How many mistresses does this guy have?”

No wonder he thought Mitch and Carrie’s marriage was doomed to fail. How many times had he hid in the shadows this way, watching a guy set up a date when his wife waited for him at home? How many times had his stepfather done the same thing to his mother? God, she felt sick. It was a terrible thing to witness, but would be soul-shattering to experience firsthand with a loved one.

“He’s moving, and I need more information,” Ryder barked, picking up his stride as the clouds opened up. “I can’t follow him this way. The rain’s going to wash away his sc—it’s getting too difficult. I can do this faster without you at my side.”

What did the rain washing away the city grime have to do with anything?

His gaze shot to hers as he handed her the keys to his Charger. “I’m going to wait here until you walk back and get in my car. It’s a safe neighborhood, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, but I’ll be here just in case. I want you to go to the paint night, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Why wouldn’t I wait for you?” She felt her face crinkle in confusion. “I already told you I don’t mind being late.”

“Stakeout’s over anyway, so you won’t miss much. I’m just going to check something out, and you can’t see me this way—doing this part of my job.” He averted his attention to the sky and then back to her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Then why shouldn’t I wait?”

He folded his arms over his chest as rain cascaded down the hard lines of his face. “Trust me when I say it’s better this way. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Then don’t expect me to listen.”

His lips pressed together until they went white. “You sure don’t like making things easy on me.”

“Why would I do that?” She softened as her heart fluttered, damn it. “I don’t feel comfortable about this. How will you get there?”

“I’ll take a cab.” He patted his back pocket as he nudged his chin at the Charger. “You know how to drive, right?”

“Like an Earnhardt.” She made a
pssh
ing sound and pocketed his keys. “Can’t guarantee I’ll keep it under ninety.”

Even though she fought to keep her tone light, worry ate at her insides. Something wasn’t right about the situation. Was the gloomy weather making her think something bad was going to happen? Or the way his face was dark and shadowed? Danny DeVito didn’t look like a mass murderer, but who knew really? If this were a movie, he’d be a vampire or a werewolf, luring them into the dark where he’d drink their blood and tear them to pieces.

Okay, okay, she’d watched too many episodes of
True Blood
. But it was her favorite show. She’d downloaded every episode of every season, and she couldn’t stop watching.

“Don’t worry,” Ryder said, as if he read her mind. “Everything will be fine.”

Somehow, when she gazed into his eyes, she believed him. It was her heart, and the way it warmed when he was near, making her think everything really would turn out all right.

“What are you going to do?” Warmth bloomed over her, even though the rain soaked through his coat. “Jump him or something?”

“No—God, nothing like that. I’m a PI, not a thug.” He glanced up at the clouds again, and once his gaze settled on the moon, he looked down at her. “I don’t have time to explain any more, but trust me when I say you’ll be safe, all right? Now will you go?”

“I guess.” But she didn’t want to leave him. Or walk back to the car in the dark. “If you insist.”

“I really do.” He took her hand and stroked his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “I won’t be long.”

His touch was magic, lighting a fire under her skin. It was electric, making her insides go all jittery. Every beat of her heart called to him. Her lips parted.

Kiss me.

They were so close, the rain falling between them. The kiss would be wet and so freaking hot.

“Now
go
,” he said. As if he hadn’t felt a thing.

“Fine.” Drenched between the legs, she turned and walked a few steps toward the direction of his Charger. “I’ll wait five minutes in the car in case you change your mind.”

When she spun back, both Ryder and Danny DeVito were gone.

“Ryder?”

How’d he disappear so quickly? He’d been
right there
a second ago.

As a jagged bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, a dash of something black darted from one shrub to another. Right near the bench where Danny DeVito had been sitting a few minutes before.

It was either the biggest dog she’d ever seen, or a wolf. No, couldn’t have been. What would a wolf be doing in the park? She hadn’t heard of any animals escaping from the city zoo. Damn if it didn’t look like one, though. Raised back. Huge legs. Hunched over, sniffing the ground.

Shielding her eyes from the rain, Josie peered through the park.

There it was again.

Leaping into the bushes. Definitely a wolf.

What the hell?

She backpedaled, stumbling over her own feet as her heart hiccuped in her chest.

“I hope you see that thing, Ryder,” she whispered, backing down the sidewalk. “Whatever it is, it’s huge.”

As his name slipped past her lips, the giant wolf dog peeked its head out of the shrubs. It must’ve thought it was still cloaked by the shadows of the bush. Still as stone, it stared at her with blazing blue eyes.

Eyes that were as icy blue as Ryder’s.

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not the stupid damsel in distress that goes running into the park to warn you. Nope. That chick gets eaten like a wolf biscuit.” She took off running toward the car. “You’re on your own.”

Chapter Six

The second Josie turned around, Ryder bolted around the corner and into the first row of bushes near the entrance to the park. Stripping down, he flung his clothes behind him and dropped to all fours. Balling all the energy into a knot in the pit of his stomach, he pushed outward. Skin gave way to fur that blanketed his body in a shiny dark coat. His muscles elongated, pulsing with strength and the promise of speed. Fangs dropped from his mouth.

With one last solid shake, the shift was complete.

As lightning struck nearby, quickly followed by the roll of thunder, he howled. Let his cry match the vibration in the air. And then he stopped, rejuvenated.

It’d been too long since he’d shifted. For the last six months, he’d denied himself the urge. If he wanted to catch Mr. Boone, though, the drought ended tonight.

Giving his legs a good, long stretch, he elongated his neck and shook. Damn, it felt good. He stomped through the grass, feeling the wet blades slide between the pads of his paws. The moon radiated shifting energy through him, rocketed through his veins, and gave him more strength than he could dream of.

He sniffed, easily detecting Mr. Boone’s scent. It was pungent and spicy, tickling his nose. He sneezed and then scrubbed his nose through the dirt.

How’d a man who smelled so bad manage to land so many mistresses?

After checking to make sure the coast was clear, he bounded out of the bush and into the next one. This shrub was longer and flanked the sidewalk where Mr. Boone had just walked. Ducking beneath branches slick with rain, he weaved his way along the path, keeping an eye on the cheater.

It was so much easier to follow him in this form. Josie didn’t help the situation, either. Her scent consumed him, distracting him from Mr. Boone’s. And although he loved to hear the crazy things that came out of her mouth, every conversation was a sidetrack from his assignment.

Dragged back to the task at hand, Ryder watched as Mr. Boone turned sharply, veering toward the outer corner of the park. If he left and walked back into the city, Ryder would have to track back to get his clothes. Couldn’t exactly shift back and strut into the city in his birthday suit.

He glanced behind him.

The clothes weren’t that far away, but it’d mean he would have to take his eyes off the subject for a few minutes. With the rain washing away his scent, Ryder might not be able to pick it up again.

Mr. Boone exited the park, his pace slowing as he crossed the street.

Where the devil was he going?

As the cheater window-shopped in a bargain store on the corner, Ryder decided that he’d watch him as far as he could, then double back and wait for him to pass through the park again. He had to come back for his car sooner or later.

One block down, Mr. Boone stopped in front of Charlie Ann’s Jewelers. Using his hand to swipe over the glass, he peered inside. And then he waved.

Bingo.

The shopkeeper—an eighty-something male from the smell of his denture glue—pushed open the door and welcomed Mr. Boone inside.

The cheating Mr. Boone was buying jewelry. For his wife, or one of his many mistresses?

Making a mental note of Charlie Ann’s and the time, Ryder turned back and headed for his clothes. He’d make a visit to the store tomorrow, do a little inquiry, and ask Mrs
.
Boone to let him know if and when she received any expensive tokens of appreciation. Seriously doubted it, though. He hated to ask her, but there was no way around it.

As he circled back for his clothes, he pawed over the top of his pants.

Completely soaked.

He hadn’t really expected them to be dry, but from the feel of his pocket, even his phone and wallet had gotten drenched. Focusing on the energy swirling inside him once again, Ryder shifted back to human form. Watched skin cover his arms and legs, and his proportions return to “normal.” Dressing quickly, he hopped into his pants and shoved his feet into his shoes. Thrusting his arms into his shirt as he ran, Ryder took off toward his car. Only it wasn’t there.

Josie hadn’t waited.

Damn it.

Even though he’d told her not to, some small part of him hoped she would.

A few blocks over he caught a cab and slipped inside. Without thinking, he barked the address to his apartment, and the driver took off. Sliding back against the seat, his gaze skipped over the clock on the dash.

Nine thirty.

“No—wait. Hold up.”

Braking in the middle of the street, the driver glared through the rearview mirror and waited for Ryder to give the next order.

“Is that really the time?”

The driver nodded, cocking an eyebrow.

If he went home now, he could shower and change into dry clothes. But by the time he got back to the winery, the paint night would probably be over. Regret stung his side. Not because he’d skip out on painting his masterpiece, but because he’d miss Josie taking off her shirt.

As his thoughts raced, he went numb, head to toe. It wasn’t from the cold, but from the mental image of Josie stripping out of her tank top. No, it was more than that. He wanted to be in the room when she laughed, to watch everyone warm around her. To be there when she smiled to watch the whole room light up. He craved being near her, having his nerves soothed away from one soft inhale of her natural fragrance.

“Bluxome Street Winery,” he ordered. “No way I’m missing this.”