Authors: Lyn Brittan
Something was off.
One more block and he’d have her. There were two ways to approach this. Talking. Or kissing.
He sped up, whipped her around and went for it.
He didn’t expect the mind-numbing knee to the balls.
Or the swear-inducing heel to the toes.
Nor the fucking lethal right hook to the jaw that had him actually seeing stars. “Baby, what the hell?”
“I am not your baby.”
He ducked and sidestepped to avoid an uppercut. “I see that.”
“The sole reason I’m not screaming for the cops, is because of what you are. That doesn’t mean I won’t kill you in private.”
He massaged his jaw, gave a tentative twist to his foot and prayed for the survival of his testicles. “You must be Kate.”
The name stopped the blitzkrieg.
“I’m Baron.”
Nothing.
“Johanna’s...uh...friend?”
Still no response.
How he’d confused this wench with glaciers in her veins for Johanna, he didn’t know. He’d been so excited to grab her that he hadn’t relied on his eyes...or his nose. Now he took a deep whiff of something pissed off and bitter. And a little confused. “She hasn’t told you about me?”
“That would imply that you’re something worth mentioning.” She hissed like a damned pit viper. He took a step back. Or three.
“So you’re not the warm and fuzzy sister? Am I right? Lady, I’m sorry. When she said sisters, I didn’t think she meant a wicked one from the West.”
“Is your nose broken?”
“I think you missed it.”
“I meant your sense of smell, stupid.”
“Okay. We started off on the wrong foot. Maybe I could offer you lunch?”
Before the Ice Queen could say something assholey, and he sure saw it coming, one of Johanna’s coworkers, a tiny redhead, jumped into the conversation.
“Hi there! It’s me, from the clerk’s office. Jo’s friend.”
“She hates being called that.”
“Hello, Kate. Pleasant as ever. Anyway, Baron, just wanted to congratulate you on the wedding. Tony spilled the beans.”
“The what?”
He didn’t know who said it in a higher pitched voice, himself or Kate, but he didn’t have time to ponder it. The crack of the Snow Bitch’s palm across his face took precedence. While he recovered, The Evil One reeled around and disappeared down the street. “Is she for real?”
“Yep. That’s Kate.”
“I hate her.”
“Who? Johanna?” The coworker asked it with a little too much eagerness in her voice.
“Kate.”
“Sure, that’s what I meant. Because you’re marrying Johanna, right?”
“I...” He wasn’t sure where to go with this or what led to such a crazy statement coming out of this person’s mouth. “We’re very happy,” he said, with every intention of straightening it out with the woman in question.
This sent the bespectacled busybody into a tizzy. She hadn’t even finished her goodbyes before getting out her phone and typing away.
He called the bride, but Johanna’s phone went to voicemail. He had a pretty good idea why. Kate. After spending time consuming, but necessary seconds swearing, he made his way back to the car and headed straight for Johanna’s apartment building.
J
ohanna snuggled deeper into the sofa, enjoying the decadence of lazing around on a workday. Her phone vibrated, but she didn’t answer it. Baron had meetings and Kate never called during business hours. That left Belinda and she wasn’t in the mood.
She dozed off to the sound of rapid gunfire on the television. An equally rapid, and no less thundering, knocking at her door woke her up. Johanna flipped over to ignore it but at a wildebeest-esque screeching, her eyes snapped open.
Kate.
Angry.
She took a lot of deep breaths and a long assed time to get to that door. “Whatever you’re mad about, I didn’t do it.”
“Open up right now!”
The closer she got, the more she wished for backup. The last time Kate bordered on homicidal, it took both she and Michelle to bring her down. “I’m not opening this door until you calm down.”
“DOWN? How, when I find out from plebeians on the streets that you’re getting married?”
Funny how some things flip locks and bust doors wide open. A red-faced Kate met her with hands on her hips and murder in her eyes.
“Kate—”
“How dare you keep this from me?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
The tornado that was her sister blew right by her and straight to the wine cabinet. “I heard it from your little friend,
after
getting molested by the groom—”
“What? Wait, I’m not getting married. Which friend? I need you to use names. I need fact based things of what you’re talking about, because I’m wading in the dark here.”
“Of course
he’d
come.” Kate barked.
“He who? Oh...” Baron’s scent wafted up the staircase, seconds before his feet
thwomped
on the wood. She opened the door before the first knock.
“Johanna, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss your sister.”
“You did what?”
“It was an accident. I didn’t notice how much of a broomstick she had under the business suit.”
“You!” Kate slammed her wine glass against the counter. “Who do you think you are? Aside from my future brother-in-law,” she added under her breath. Or what would have been, if they weren’t in a room filled with wolves.
“Yeah, Johanna, what’s that all about?” Baron shifted and cracked his back. “So we’re clear, that was a proposal for work.”
“I know that! Back up to the part about kissing my sister.”
The man went red to the tips of his ears. “My nerves outpace my nose sometimes. I got excited when I saw you walking. In the haze, I clearly misjudged class and hotness for ice and bitchiness.”
Instant forgiveness. She turned her attention to the scowling Kate. “What he means to say is that he’s sorry.”
“He sure is.”
Baron earned a lot of points for letting that pass and she turned to the next cluster bomb. “Now what’s this about me getting married?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “Caught me off guard too. I was recovering from my encounter with Kate when your coworker congratulated me.”
The level of ridiculousness just kept doubling down on itself. “I need wine for this. Pour me a glass, Kate. Please?”
“Are you sure,” Baron asked with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not so good with alcohol.”
Kate, now completely unhinged, howled at his interjection. “How would you know? You’ve known her for two minutes. Here. Drink the wine.”
Johanna took the glass, already wishing for another, and let her mind go back to what could have caused the confusion. It didn’t take long. “Tony. I told him I was taking a week off. When he asked, I said we needed time to work out future plans. It was only to shut him up. I didn’t mean
that.
”
Baron let out a whoosh of air. “I believe you. It’s not altogether untrue.”
Kate shoved her way between them. Actually, less of a shove and more of a full on body check. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Tell your sister to stay out of our marriage.”
Kate whipped around, eyes wide and glowing. “I’ll kill him. You tell that boy—”
“I’m standing right here. And for the record, I’m older than you.”
Kate’s flat palm slammed the table. “Then act like it. The both of you are running around like damned kids.”
“Before I shift in the living room, let me say this. Kate, I’m sorry for the awkward introduction. I apologize for everything I’ve said and I hope you feel the same.”
“I don’t.”
Baron snatched the whole damned bottle and started gulping. “Is she always like this?”
“I can hear you.”
“Then leave.”
“OH! You don’t have any right to kick me out of my sister’s apartment.”
Johanna opened the door and pointed outside. “But I do. I love you and I’ll call you tonight.”
“What?”
“Go.” And yep, kicking Kate out this time felt just as good as the time before.
Her sister snatched up her purse and stepped outside. “You call me the second he leaves. As for you, if you hurt Johanna in any little way, I’ll drive day and night to bury your corpse in the desert.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“See that you do.”
Johanna rested her head against the closed door and enjoyed the cool metal against her heated cheek.
Silence.
Beautiful silence.
Her skin itched, her stomach ached and a pile driver went to work on her temple. “So, that’s Kate.”
“I need a nap. I can’t deal with that. The marriage is off.” He winked over the bottle and took another swig.
“Kate bought me that.”
Drops of wine dribbled out the corners of his mouth as he spit it out. “I can’t...I can’t. She’s insane.” Baron filled a glass with tap water and somehow, impossibly, loosened a few more chains around her heart.
“I’m sorry you two met like that.”
“Everyone you know is crazy.”
“I know.”
“Batshit crazy.”
“I know.”
“That’s why you need me, Johanna. That shit spreads.” The fool shivered and eyed the Kate tainted bottle under the light over the sink. “Are we sure there’s no crushed glass in here?”
“I’m sure.”
“She must have been a joy growing up.”
“She’s not
that
bad. Perhaps a little overconfident and controlling, but she means well.”
Baron rolled his eyes and gave a very puppyish whimper. “But she’s ruining our wedding.”
Their laughter sent running the last tendrils of tension. Bless him. He was more magician than wolf. This could have gone so horribly wrong, but he’d gone beyond what was required to smooth things down between them. Maybe he was a keeper.
Might was well stop lying to herself. She’d known that for a while now. It was more a concern of whether he wanted to keep her. But to go through the crucible he’d just survived, said a lot. She’d always thought wolf love was weird. It happened too fast for her liking. Every wolf fairy tale started with a sniff. She’d counted it all as a mix of luck and lust. Now, though...
“You’re thinking about her. Stop it.”
“I was thinking about you.”
“Oh, keep going. My legendary good looks? Unstoppable charm? My...” His voice trailed off as he flicked his tongue.
“Loyalty, dummy. Your loyalty. You’ve shown it over and over again when you had no reason to.”
“I like you. I like having you around. But, as I recall, you only want me to discuss business,” he said, shoulders dropping. A shaking finger wiped away nonexistent tears. The acting industry missed out on Baron Wyatt.
She poured another glass and winked over the top of it. “Actually, that was your idea.”
Something changed. A lot of somethings and all at once.
His scent deepened to a heavy musk. She sniffed her own changing with his. Dangerous territory. Baron’s eyebrows thickened, his nose lengthened and his eyes took on the glow of the sun at daybreak.
Raw power ran unfettered through her veins. It’d been years since she
needed
to change. Her wolf longed to be free with his.
Her mate.
Her den.
Aww, hell. Mate. Den. Screw it. She jumped on him, ripping his shirt with one hand and tugging at his belt with the other. She ached to be against him again, skin to skin. Baron kicked off his boots and dropped to his knees to worship her as he had so brilliantly done in the woods before. The shaved legs she’d wrapped around his back darkened with fur.
He whispered filthy things against her womb and she wanted each one of them to happen. “My bedroom.”
Baron tossed her over his shoulder and stomped down the hall, loudly sniffing his way to their destination.
“The no sex agreement’s off,” he said.
And really, that suited her just fine.
H
e could get used to this. Her.
They spent the next two days doing nothing but each other. There wasn’t a crack or crevice on her body that he hadn’t dipped his finger, tongue or prick into. He tried to take his time making love to her, apologizing when he couldn’t. There were times she took the helm and while being on the bottom wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, it for damned sure wasn’t the worst. He’d give her whatever power over him she needed.
It wasn’t until Day Three that they stayed mostly upright. It’d made neither of them happy, but he had to get to work. Not being successful here wasn’t an option. Especially now.
He would make a good life here with her in it. He considered himself a generous man, but when it came to Johanna, he wouldn’t share her and he wouldn’t give her back. Not willingly. It would take time, but his best option was to wait it out until her wolf realized what his already accepted – that they belonged together.
He’d left her at the apartment unpacking boxes, while he’d put in time at the restaurant. He emailed financials for her to analyze around noon. Still, it hadn’t been entirely productive. He spent as much time thinking about her as his menu. Twice he’d been tempted to go and bring her back or just go and crawl into bed with her.
By Day Four they had a system worked out. He got up first to make coffee, followed by Johanna biting her pillow while he worked her from behind as the brew went cold. Then, as painful as it was to untangle himself from her, he’d go put their mugs in the microwave, fetch the paper and slink back into bed. Not a bad life. He didn’t know what this was – none of the labels quite fit. But he liked it.
The one thing he couldn’t handle was her pantry. It was a downright sin what she’d done. The woman had rows of ramen, stacks of frozen pizza and every box of macaroni & cheese in the county. Her response to his jaw on the floor had only been, ‘I like them.’
Now she lay wrapped up in blankets, the perfect vision of lazy happiness. Getting her away from that job had been the best decision they’d made together. She cuddled into the sheets, though one foot dangled over the edge. He fought the urge to wiggle her big toe.
And lost.
Johanna hooked her finger and he followed like the whipped dog that he was.
“What are you smirking about,” she asked, propping up on her elbows.