Werewolves in Love 3: Ready to Run
Dedication
To the Diva, who will never be allowed to read Mommy’s books, even after she’s an adult, and who was more jealous of the time I spent on this one than the previous ones.
I hope she’ll understand it was the werewolf lovin’ that paid for a very good school.
Chapter One
Sara’s hands shook as she applied her mascara. With the wand halfway to her eye, she stopped and stared at herself in the mirror, watching a flush bloom across her face. Thinking about the night ahead made her neck burn. A hard, tight knot lay coiled in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she might be sick.
She grinned at her reflection. There was no way this could last, but she planned to enjoy every minute for as long as it did.
Sex. They were going to have sex tonight, she’d decided. She’d never done it on the third date, but her life was getting ready to take a big turn and the time felt right for doing stuff she’d never done before. She knew once she left Luxor, she’d never see him again, and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering what it would have been like.
Nash Keeton knocked on the door at six-thirty sharp. She loved that he didn’t try to play it cool by keeping her waiting. When he’d asked for her number a couple of weeks ago—after two months of sitting in her section for breakfast, lunch and sometimes dinner—he’d called her the very next day. When he’d said, two days ago,
“Maybe we can do something Friday night,”
he’d called her later that evening to see if they could do something Friday night.
He didn’t pretend he didn’t think she was hot. Which was kind of amazing, considering how incredibly hot
he
was.
“I knew it,” he’d said when he’d picked her up for their first date two weeks ago.
“Knew what?”
“That you had a smoking hot body under that godawful uniform they make you wear.”
And then he’d flashed the cocky grin that made her stomach flip over.
Sometimes she was actually glad she could remember every detail of every moment she experienced. Some memories, like Nash Keeton, she’d be revisiting forever.
Now she opened the door to see him standing on her front step, rocked back on his heels with his arms folded across his chest. Nash’s biceps looked chiseled from smooth, tan stone. His black T-shirt was just snug enough to signal the firm pecs and six-pack underneath.
She’d never seen him with his shirt off, and that was a damn shame.
The flush returned as he looked her up and down with that grin.
“You look kind of delicious.” He had a lovely, slow Central Texas drawl, not the East Texas twang she had and hated.
“Thank you.” She wanted to say,
“So do you,”
but was afraid it would sound stupid, so she just smiled.
He slipped an arm around her as they walked to his motorcycle. Handing her the extra helmet, he asked, “So what’s it gonna be tonight? Italian? Thai? Sushi?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “What, so we’re going to Marshall for dinner? I have to work a double tomorrow, you know.” Marshall was an hour away.
“Okay. Guess it’s Café Caddo, then.”
It was always, only, and ever Café Caddo.
She wondered what he’d say if she told him she’d never tasted sushi or Thai food in her life, not even when she went to Marshall. Or that the closest she’d ever been to an Italian restaurant was Olive Garden—in Marshall, of course. She’d never been to Dallas or Fort Worth. She’d never even been to Longview.
What would Mr. Big City think if he knew that
, she wondered as they roared off into the night.
The Café was the finest dining establishment in Luxor, which was only one of many reasons Sara couldn’t wait to leave her hometown of seven hundred and thirty-six.
She knew every person in the place. She’d waited on all of them in the four years she’d been working here. Having dinner at the Café was as interesting as eating in her own living room, except that she couldn’t do it in her pajamas.
“What is it?”
“Huh?”
“You’re making a face like something smells bad. Is it me?”
“Oh. Sorry.” She smiled guiltily. “I was just thinking that I wouldn’t miss this place. When I get to Marshall, I won’t be working anywhere that serves chicken fried steak.”
“Chicken fried steak’s one of my favorites.”
“I smell it
everywhere
, no matter where I am. I swear I smell it on myself when I’m getting out of the shower. I probably smell like it right now.”
“Wait. Hang on.” He got up and came around to her side of the booth, sliding in and pressing her all the way up against the partition.
“Hey!”
He buried his face in her neck and took a deep, loud sniff. It tickled and she giggled, both embarrassed at the attention they were attracting and, at the same time, proud of it. The hottest guy to come through Luxor in probably forever wanted
her
. And he was from Houston, home to shifters and people of fae ancestry, so everyone in Luxor viewed him a little suspiciously despite his fancy motorcycle and topnotch hunting skills. Dating him made her feel like she was saying
“screw you”
to Luxor—something she’d dreamed about for years but would never have the nerve to do.
He sniffed again. “I don’t smell any chicken fried steak in there. Just some girly perfume. I like it.” He kissed her neck.
“Stop!” she squealed softly, not really meaning it. “Everyone’s staring!”
“All right, all right,” he said with mock sadness. He sat up straight but didn’t return to the other side of the table.
“You two need a room?” Susan asked with a smile. Neither of them had heard her approach the table.
“Nah. We’ll get a room later.” He twisted away as Sara jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “Meantime, Susan, we’d love a pitcher of Shiner. That all right with you?”
Sara nodded.
When Susan left, Nash turned to face her with his arm across the back of the booth. “So. Marshall. You still on track for that?”
She nodded. “Yep. Sent in my apartment deposit this week. Classes start the first week of January.”
Texas State Technical College, where she’d been taking online courses for three semesters, had approved her for financial aid. She’d be moving right after Christmas.
“It’s gonna be here before you know it.”
“I know. I can’t wait.”
Susan dropped off the pitcher and two glasses and promised to come right back to take their order.
Sara took a sip of her beer, suddenly self-conscious and very aware of his face so close to hers.
He ran a finger through the hair at the back of her neck. “You’ll kick ass in Marshall. Matter of fact, I bet after a year it’ll be too small to hold you. You’ll be moving on to Dallas.”
She basked in his praise. No one but her best friend and cousin, Wendy, ever praised anything she did. He really seemed interested in
her
, not just her body. “Well, I don’t know. It might take longer than that to get used to a city that size.” Marshall had a population of twenty-eight thousand. “I do want to transfer to a four-year college. But not in Dallas—that’s too close. I’m going to Houston.” Belatedly fearing it might sound like she was dropping hints about a future with him, she hastily added, “Or, you know, San Antonio, or Austin. Someplace with freeways and buildings taller than four stories.” She looked around the Café. “A place with restaurants you have to dress for.”
Those deep dimples reappeared, but this time his smile was serious. “Wherever you wind up, you’ll do great.”
His words made her feel all warm inside, like she was glowing.
“Okay, what are y’all having tonight?” Susan asked.
“Oh yeah, right, food,” Nash said. “We haven’t even looked at the menu.”
She elbowed him again. “Oh, shut up.” Anyone who’d eaten at the Café more than three times had the menu memorized.
“Okay. Guess I’ll have the chicken fried steak.”
“Fine, but I won’t be kissing you.”
“Oh, I think you will.” He waggled his eyebrows and leered at her.
Susan giggled like—well, like Sara had been giggling just a minute ago. Nash had that effect on women.
“I’ll have the mushroom burger, Sue.”
“Onion rings, right?”
“Right.”
“And another pitcher, please,” added Nash.
“All righty.”
They talked about the last couple of charters Nash had taken out on the lake. The guys at JP’s Outdoor Expeditions said he had some sort of mystical rapport with nature. And since he’d arrived in Luxor two months ago, Dallas and Fort Worth businesswomen were showing up, suddenly interested in hunting and fishing.
Their order came up quickly, but Susan didn’t leave after she dropped off the plates. Instead, she looked around to see if anyone was listening, then leaned in a little bit, propping her tray against one hip. “Hey. Did y’all hear about those folks out by Wake Village?”
“Huh? No. What folks?” Sara asked. Nash was already digging into his dinner.
“Five of ’em, three men and two women. Young—or at least they think they were young. It’ll probably take dental records to ID them.”
“Oh my God.” Leave it to Susan to start a story like this while people were eating. But Sara was curious in spite of herself. “What happened?”
“Well, they’ve managed to keep it out of the papers, but you know Bobbi’s boyfriend is a Bowie County deputy.” Susan, a semi-pro gossip, repeated everything her daughter told her.
“Okay, but what happened?” asked Sara.
Nash looked up from his plate.
“They were cut
to ribbons.
” Susan paused for effect before dropping the real bomb. “Sheriff says it was werewolves.”
“Wait a minute,” Nash said. “I heard the vics had knife wounds.”
“Listen to you,” Susan scoffed. “What are you, a cop? How did
you
hear about it?”
“Some guys on one of my charters know the cops who worked it. But if they were stabbed, it wasn’t werewolves.”
“Yeah, wolves don’t use weapons,” Sara blurted. “It’s not honorable.”
It was out of her mouth before she knew she’d said it. Now both Susan and Nash were staring at her. Susan looked shocked, and maybe a little disgusted.
Nash looked intrigued. “How do you know about werewolves?”
She shrugged. “Something I read on the Internet once, I guess.” Her hands had started shaking, so she picked up her burger. “I mean, everybody knows that about werewolves.”
“
I
sure didn’t know that.” Susan was looking at her like she’d just announced her conversion to Satanism. “Why would you be reading about such things? That’s not how you were raised, Sara Mae.”
Nash grinned. “Sara Mae?”
“Don’t start,” she muttered, still staring at her burger and willing Susan to shut up and go away.
Shutting up was not something Susan knew much about. She set her tray down on their table and crossed her arms, apparently in no hurry to tend to her other customers. A few people at nearby tables were watching the scene unfold.
“Well, all I know is Lanny Coe says werewolves did it. He passed out silver bullets to all his men.”
“Who the fuck is Lanny Coe, and what makes him think werewolves are running around northeast Texas?” Nash asked in the mocking tone of voice Sara often wished she had the nerve to use.
Susan’s mouth had stretched into a prim, tight line at Nash’s profanity. Now her eyes narrowed to angry slits as she snapped, “Lanny Coe’s the Sheriff of Bowie County. And he knows the fairies and skin-walkers won’t stop ’til they’re living in every city in every state. They want to take over this country. Europe was smart enough to stop ’em, but over here they just get themselves elected!”
“But, Susan, there’s not enough
fairies
and
skin-walkers
to live in every city in every state.” Nash’s tone was mild, still a bit amused, but Sara heard the contempt in his voice as he repeated the offensive epithets. It was the contempt of a cosmopolitan big city dweller for an ignorant, small-town bigot.
Yes, some big city folks could be assholes. But most people in Luxor—well, as far as Sara knew,
everyone
in Luxor but her—thought exactly the same way Susan did.
What made it even worse was that she didn’t have the courage to confront Susan about her hateful views. She just sat there, her face burning, while the tables around them turned to stare. Nash probably assumed Sara felt the same way, even though she didn’t. And that made her want to slink under the booth and crawl out of the Café.
“Well, but…” Susan was only temporarily flustered by facts. “The politicians are still helping them live wherever they want to. The federal government cares more about beasts than it does about human beings!”
Beside her, Nash had gone very still. “Beasts?”