Leave Me (Oh Yes She Did #3)

Chapter One

Moira Jennings had made a grave mistake.

She scrunched up her face at the couple in front of her on the shuttle who were sucking face.

“Hey, we are on an UnValentine’s Day retreat,” she griped. “Get a room. Preferably in another state.”

Birdie and her brand-new boyfriend Lance turned in their seats to stare at her. She glared.

“Sorry,” Birdie murmured.

“I’m not,” Lance said. “If you don’t like seeing affection, blink real hard for real long.”

Moira narrowed her eyes to slits and hissed at him. She hated love. Moira turned her face away from the disgusting couple and stared out the window at the snowy woods that were blurring by.

When she’d signed up for this retreat, it had been for a specific purpose and these face-suckers were ruining it!

There had been three other excursions happening today, on the day of doom-and-gloom, February 14th, the hands-down worst day of the entire year, and which one had Lance and Birdie chosen? The one she was on.

They’d probably done this on purpose just to ruin another adventure, just like they did with horseback riding the other day.

She’d had to ride behind them and watch them try and hold hands while on their horse and donkey.

Her horse on the other hand, kept turning its head and trying to bite her shin.

No one on earth was more single than Moira, and these two dorks were making this Valentine’s Day somehow even worse than usual.

She could hear them laughing and canoodling.

“You know, you could’ve signed up for the spa excursion,” she griped. “Or done anything on earth other than this particular adventure.”

“Snow rides on four-wheelers sounds fun,” Birdie said.

“Yeah, but this is supposed to be UnValentine’s Day!

” she pointed out again. “I’m minding the rules.

No romance whatsoever and you are ruining everything!

” She stood and stormed past them and sat in the very front of the shuttle, then pulled her headphones on and listened to death metal for the rest of the trip up to the base of the mountain.

Crested Butte, Colorado was beautiful at this time of year. At least to her it was. She wasn’t so much a sunshine girl. She was a moody and cloudy days kind of girl, and this time of year, every other day was a snowstorm.

She’d booked this trip an entire year in advance just to escape the corporate holiday, money scarfing, hearts puked onto every advertisement culture that consumed her hometown every February.

A cluster of cabins deep in snowy Crested Butte called the Woodpecker Inn had advertised for an anti-Valentine’s Day, and she had traveled here from Arizona just for that reason, to spend a week among other Valentine’s Day haters.

And now look. She was surrounded by a lovefest.

Barf.

The shuttle slowed and Moira sat up straighter to look out the window.

She used the sleeve of her black sweater to wipe off the condensation.

There was a man out in front of the check-in building with the hood of an ATV up, poking around in it.

He wore thick canvas pants, snow boots, and a light gray sweater under an unzipped winter jacket. Definitely human.

Moira didn’t even need a jacket. Just some snow pants to ward off any moisture from the snow her four-wheeler would kick up, a black beanie, and a pair of charcoal gray mittens.

Black was her favorite color, but they’d only had dark gray mittens at the general store in town. Pity.

The guy working on the ATV looked up as she filed off the shuttle and waved. Party foul.

Moira grimaced. She hoped he wasn’t one of those friendly types. If she set the tone early though, he wouldn’t try to talk to her, or worse, get to know her.

If she was lucky, he wouldn’t be their tour guide, and some grumpy old man who said things like “Get off my lawn,” and, “They don’t make things like they used to,” would take over the tour and lead them around the mountain in blissful silence.

She turned to find Birdie and Lance holding hands and snuggling by the shuttle.

The ATV guy smiled at her as she approached.

“Are you the tour guide?” she demanded.

The smile fell from his face. “Unless you don’t want me to be.”

She sighed. What was this. Was he fishing for acceptance? Needy. “I’ll give you fifty bucks to leave those two behind,” she told him, gesturing at the kissy faces.

“W-what?”

“A hundred dollars to tell them the tour is full and all the ATVs are broken down but mine.”

The guy removed his sunglasses and cocked his head, wearing a deep frown.

Oh criminy. He was hot.

“You’re married, right?”

“Ummm.” He pulled his left glove off and showed her his naked hand. “Nope.”

“Girlfriend? Please for the love of God, say yes.”

He scrunched up his face, and his dark eyes looked even hotter somehow. “No?”

“Situationship?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

She shook her head. “Seriously?” She kicked a snow drift and walked toward the check-in office.

“What did I do?” the guy called behind her.

“Oh, happy UnValentine’s Day, let me orchestrate an unromantic adventure for you, Moira, only I’ll make it a couple’s retreat with Smooch and Handsy over there,” she griped, gesturing once again to Birdie and Lance, who were staring at her with troubled looks now. “Don’t look at me! Look at each other!”

Lance and Birdie dropped their gazes and gave each other looks, but whatever.

“Where are you going?” the tour guide asked.

“To check-in, or who knows, maybe I’ll just go jump off that rock ledge over there.” She stomped on a miniature snow man someone had built, but the stick arm snapped upward and whacked her in the leg.

“Don’t you need a jacket?” the hot single ridiculous man called.

“I don’t need a jacket. I’m not weak like you little fragile humans.”

“Whoa!” Birdie called and now the little cretin was jogging her way.

“No. Close enough,” Moira said, holding her hand up. “Keep your airborne STDs over there.”

“I don’t have any STDs. You’re a shifter?”

Moira pulled on the office door, but it seemed to be locked. “What’s it to you?” She rattled it again, but it didn’t give an inch.

“You check in with me,” Hot Tour Guide called. “I’ve already locked up.”

Moira stared at the sky and closed her eyes for a three-count. She should just go back to the cabin, but when she turned for the shuttle, the thing was already creeping up the icy winding road and away from them.

“What if I have to pee?”

“You’re a shifter,” the guy said.

She turned to glare at him. “So?”

“So, piss in the woods.” He frowned and turned to shake Lance’s hand.

Oh. So, he could be rude back. Acceptable.

She lifted her chin higher into the air and did a little, “Hmp,” to Birdie Kissalot and stomped toward the trees.

“I’m a shifter too!” Birdie called.

“I know. I can smell you.”

“Oh. Well, why can’t I tell that you’re a shifter?”

Moira closed her eyes and then called on her animal and then turned around and flashed them at Birdie with a hiss. “Happy?”

Birdie jumped back and grabbed her chest. “O M G.”

“Don’t say the letters out loud like that. It’s lame. Say ‘oh my gosh.’ That’s like me saying L O L.”

“What’s your animal?”

“A C.”

“A C?” Birdie asked.

“A C your way away from me. You are dismissed, you miniature weirdo.”

“You’re really mean sometimes.”

“And yet here you are, still talking to me. I’m trying to find a pee spot. Leave me alone.”

“You shouldn’t be in the woods alone. Girls go in packs. You should have someone watching your back.”

“You want to watch me pee?”

“What? No!”

“I’m fine in the woods,” she said, stomping through the snow drifts.

She didn’t really have to go to the bathroom.

She just needed a break from peopling. If she had to ride around with these dopes for the next couple of hours, she needed to take a meditative breather so she wouldn’t Change into her animal and bite every last one of them.

No, that wasn’t right. Her animal was harmless.

She would just run away, and Moira would Change back in a few hours lost in the middle of the woods.

No Changing today. This wasn’t the time nor the place.

Birdie grew half a brain and stopped following her, and Moira marched right into the trees and hid behind a big trunk.

She inhaled deeply, rolled her eyes closed, and imagined her cabin back at the Woodpecker Inn.

It was full of snacks, and silence. Her paradise.

What had convinced her she needed to do this tour, she didn’t know.

The adventurous spirit that had taken her over since she’d arrived in beautiful snowy Colorado, perhaps?

Or maybe it was the boredom that had consumed her yesterday when she’d only ventured out one time to eat in the main lodge.

She took a few minutes, then smoothed her black sweater out, and slowly made her way back to the ATVs. Hot Tour Guide had Birdie and Lance all loaded up on theirs, and they were giggling and flirting. Yack.

“Hey, would you mind taking a picture of us?” Birdie asked her.

Without missing a beat, Moira said, “I would rather eat oatmeal.”

“Oh. Oatmeal isn’t so bad if you put honey and raisins in it,” Lance said.

“I’m allergic to oatmeal and will go into anaphylactic shock and die.”

“Oh,” Lance said in a disappointed tone.

“You’re just a delight, aren’t you?” Hot Tour Guide said. His smile was annoyingly handsome.

She swung her leg over the seat of the ATV he stood beside, and gripped the handles. “I’m ready.”

“Cool. Why don’t you go be ready on your own ATV,” he said, pointing to a black one he’d pulled from a line of them. “I picked a black one for you. Seemed to match your aesthetic.”

“I know your using sarcasm and trying to insult me, but black happens to be my favorite color.”

“Shocker. Scurry scurry little shifter. You’re getting your shifter germs on my ride.”

Ha. She lifted her chin higher into the air and narrowed her eyes at him. “You aren’t going to kick me out of the tour?”

“Maybe if you pay me a hundred dollars, like when you offered that to kick those nice people out.”