Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
“Down the hill I went, and then,
I forgot the ways of men,
For night-scents, heady and damp and cool
Wakened ecstasy.”
— SARA TEASDALE, FLAME AND SHADOW
S anye did not need my white knight services.
No sirree. Turned out, I was the one in need of a rescue.
“HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY!” chorused at me from every direction, people popping out from behind the bookcases and the counter in The Pink Parts. What felt like every werewolf in town bounded toward me, making my hackles rise.
Also hollered, mostly by my brothers: “A star is born, asshole!”
Given the amber sheen I could feel sheeting over my eyes, the pictures of my surprise entrance would be hilarious. Ranger was an oversharer, so I’d likely find my shocked mug projected onto the side of our house in our annual Christmas light display come November (Ranger believed in starting the holiday season early). Not to be outdone, my youngest brother, Rebel, would make the photos into cushions for us to sit on at the local ball games. There might be fridge magnets.
After Wyatt’s last book launch, I’d sworn that the only way he’d get me to attend another literary event was if he tied me up and dragged me into the bookstore bodily; clearly, he’d taken my threat to heart.
Given the mountain of embargoed stock he’d signed in the back room these last two weeks, I should have predicted the sneak party. In my defense, meeting Suzette had knocked the stuffing clear out of my brain. If I’d remembered that today was release day for Wyatt’s latest book, I would have made him a bourbon cake, dropped it off on his doorstep, and stayed far, far away.
Now I was good and trapped, so I decided to have a laugh and figure out why my brothers were snort-laughing so hard. Their glee did not bode well for my dignity.
Ranger and Sanye wandered out of the crowd of Moonlight Valleyers surrounding Wyatt. He’d whipped out a gold fountain pen and was scrawling his name on a stack of glossy paperback books. Sanye looked happy to see me. Ranger, on the other hand, looked smug. His selfie stick was pointed plumb at me.
Sanye threw her arms around me, squeezing me tight. “You’ve been holding out on me! Congratulations!”
“I have?” I knew Wyatt struggled with the whole notion of a silent partnership, but I had trusted him not to spill the beans about our business dealings.
“Wyatt said you’re the inspiration for his new book,” she replied ominously. “He dedicated it to you.”
Seeing as how Wyatt wrote erotic werewolf romance, I had questions. Before I could ask her to explain herself, Ranger poked me in the side with his finger. “You are an inspiration.”
Wyatt smirked at me from behind his wall of books as he signed a frontispiece with a flourish.
He cheated , my wolf said sulkily. This is not a fair fight.
I shrugged. “Seeing as how I have not yet read Wyatt’s book, I don’t have an opinion on that. This comes as a big surprise.”
Based on the smirks aimed my way by my friends and neighbors, I needed to skim the book. Fast.
Ranger waited until the nice lady at the post office, my first-grade teacher, and the preacher’s wife walked by us, Wyatt’s new book clutched in their hands as they gave me assessing up-and-down glances, before he addressed my surprise. “You know I do not like to spoil the ending of a book.”
“It would have been prudent of Maverick to get his hands on an advanced reader copy. He does like a happy ending.” Sanye patted my arm. She sounded like she was trying not to laugh.
Ranger shot her a confused glare. “He did not attend the book club meeting this month, and thus he missed my hot takes on werewolf romance. To barb or not to barb! That is a very important question.”
I was not going to think about that.
No barbs , my wolf said grumpily. Have you considered a penis piercing?
Knox, the second oldest of my brothers, stomped up to the edge of our threesome, slapping a copy of Wyatt’s book against his palm. Knox always looked sour in my vicinity, but his imitation of a storm cloud did not put off other people. Women frequently cited him as the best looking of the Boone bunch. Objectively, he had won the genetic lottery.
He’d been eavesdropping all right because he rolled the icy, bright blue eyes that he’d got from our daddy and growled something under his breath. Amber flickered in his gaze.
“Do you have an opinion on the sexual imagery in Wyatt’s book, Knox, that you’d like to share with the class?” Ranger turned his selfie stick on Knox, who scowled back.
Knox wore a fancy two-piece suit, which was casual wear for him. Needless to say, his presence was a surprise. Firstly, he believed that eighty-hour workweeks were both healthy and an excellent training regimen for climbing the corporate ladder.
And secondly, he hated me.
No joke.
I experienced the usual suite of regrets: regret that I had done a poor job as his older brother, regret that I had not protected my momma from our daddy’s abuse, and even more regret that Knox had done what I didn’t and had stepped up to take the beatings for all of us.
Younger me was best described as an asshole and the worst kind of animal.
Since regrets were just painful wishes and entirely unactionable, however, I mostly regretted that the bookshop did not stock whiskey. I would not have minded backsliding an inch or two —in delicious, brown bourbon—on my new, sober, and upright life.
Knox shot an irritated glance Ranger’s way, giving the selfie stick with Ranger’s phone a one-finger salute.
“I do not have an opinion.” Dislike and anger sharpened Knox’s voice. Then, realizing that Sanye was standing with us, he gave her a tight smile, as if he had some unpleasant regrets of his own. His voice softened as he asked, “Can I get you a coffee, Sanye?”
Sanye lowered her eyes, not quite ready to challenge an alpha wolf. “I’m good, thanks.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment, his eyes lingering briefly on her face. Then his gaze met mine, and he frowned as I refused to drop my eyes. I would not show him my throat. Scowling, he spun on his heel and strode away.
“That brother of ours is so rude,” Ranger said, watching him disappear into the crowd of book-buying, laughing werewolves. “What if I wanted a coffee?”
“He’s okay.” Sanye frowned down at her hands, inspecting her manicure. She had a white Pomeranian painted on the pink polish of her thumb. “He just thinks that he hates Maverick, but he’s wrong. Sooner or later, he’ll figure that out.”
Sanye’s words pierced me through and through. Sure, I’d had the same thought myself, and not even two minutes ago, but hearing the words said out loud hurt .
There was truth to those words, no matter how much I wanted to deny it.
“Maverick is not the problem here,” Ranger contradicted her. They engaged in some kind of silent eyeball-to-eyeball communication while I was forced to sign Jennie Dean’s momma’s book. She hugged me after I reluctantly complied, squeezing my bicep with her book-free hand.
“Your momma loved you, Maverick.” Mrs. Dean waved her book for emphasis. “She really, truly did. Don’t you forget that.”
I nodded down at her, realizing that I had one more regret to add to my growing collection. I had not been a good son, what with joining the Iron Wolves and stealing cars, and I had stubbornly stuck to that bad path until the last three years of her life.
“I won’t, ma’am. Thank you for coming out for Wyatt’s book party.”
“That Wyatt Reynolds made you out to be a hero.” She squeezed my arm again, beaming widely.
I broke out my aw-shucks grin. “Well now, Mrs. Dean, I don’t rightly know what’s in that book of his.”
“He based it on your life.” She looked around and then leaned up to whisper in my ear. “On your love life. It was all quite impressive.”
Then her gaze dropped south and her cheeks pinkened.
Jesus, take the wheel.
Fortunately, Jesus listened because Mrs. Dean rapidly dropped my arm and scurried off. I was starting to have a good idea of what my business partner had done: he’d made me the hero in those ridiculous sex scenes he wrote, and now half the town—or more—was convinced that it was either straight up biography or a sexual menu they could order from.
A low rumble followed by a smattering of enthusiastic applause had me turning toward the small stage. It was more of a low platform, to be honest, furnished with an ostentatious reading light and a leather armchair. Wyatt had settled himself there with a glass of water and his damned book.
“Time to bring your fantasies to life.” Ranger tipped his chin in the direction of the stage. “I am taking audience questions for Wyatt, and then Sanye is reciting some dirty limericks. You are on your own.”
“I’ll manage.”
“If you get lonely...” Ranger dimpled mischievously. “I would suggest you look for the Relyae twins.”
I froze in dismay. “Excuse me?”
“I invited them,” Ranger said.
“Along with Daisy March. And Liesel Sturm,” Sanye added. She was grinning broadly.
“Did you invite all of my former girlfriends?” I gritted out.
Sanye giggled uncontrollably while Ranger answered, “I was not aware that you had girlfriends. Did you date one of these lovely women exclusively?”
Dating is for losers , my wolf snarled. Fun was had. Orgasms were shared. Our sexual reputation is impeccable .
As impeccable came from the Latin word impeccabilis , or to sin not, my wolf had it wrong. I was sinner central.
“You know I did not,” I gritted out. “Explain yourself.”
“Ohmigod, I’m going to laugh-pee.” Sanye clutched Ranger’s arm. Laughter shook her frame.
Get the lady a bucket , my wolf growled. He was still snappish at the implication that we’d failed to satisfy any of my former ladies.
Ranger nodded his head as though I’d asked a question and not made a demand. “Maverick, I merely revisited certain aspects of your sexual past.”
“God help me,” I groaned.
“You are a literary man. Think of this as A Christmas Carol reenactment but with sexual specters rather than crotchety old Englishmen. This is your chance to consider your failings in bed.”
“Kill me. There will be payback. It will be a bitch.” I stabbed a finger at them.
Onstage, Wyatt began to read. He had a rich, posh voice like an audiobook narrator. Unfortunately, his perfect diction made it very easy to understand his words. His werewolf hero was rogering the heroine. At great length and in questionably public circumstances. It was unclear to me whether fur was involved or not.
Around me, people whispered and jostled. They slid sidelong glances at me.
Let’s make a run for it .
My instincts agreed with my wolf. Forget about supporting Wyatt—I needed to sprint for the door. The bookstore was packed. Childhood friends, neighbors, my momma’s book club, my brothers, people I’d worked with...
And apparently a decade’s worth of former girlfriends.
Five years ago, before I’d turned over my new leaf, I would have run for the door. I’d have straddled my bike, put pedal to the metal, and gone away.
But I was no longer that person who left without a destination in mind and who never stopped to think about how his absence affected the people who stayed behind. I’d had sex and then I’d gone about my life, and I had not bothered calling or so much as sending a card or a text.
I’d just run.
And then I’d run some more.
Even tonight, I realized most folks did not expect me to stay. They were waiting for me to bolt.
So I stayed, pasting a grim smile on my face as Wyatt read and read—and read some more. He was giving so much milk away that no one would buy the cow. Book. Whatever.
After the first ten minutes, I zoned out, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Wyatt’s hero had a legendary dick, and I could feel the town’s assessing gaze on me. Or, more precisely, on a region south of my belt.
When Mackenzie, my only sister, bounded up to me, I threw my arms around her. She was number four and the smallest wolf in our pack of seven, but there was no overlooking her vibrant presence. She was as pretty on the outside as she was on the inside, not to mention smart as a whip. She’d gone to nursing school. Deelie Sue had pressed her into entering our state beauty pageants for the scholarship money, and all of us Boone boys had bought tickets and attended the final show to holler and applaud whenever our girl came out. And sure, I might have been biased as Mack’s brother, but there was no better woman in the world. She deserved all the tiaras life had to offer.
Plus, if I stood close enough to her, no mistakes from my checkered past could sneak up on me. I squeezed her tighter.
“Mav?”
“What?”
“I can’t breathe,” she complained.
“You’re talking,” I pointed out. “That means air is making it in. You’re my wingman tonight.”
“Scaredy wolf.” She stuck her tongue out at me.
In the grand scheme of things, having my sister on my arm wouldn’t keep people away, but I still clung to the idea. Unless I could convince Suzette to take a chance on me, I was a retired charmer.
Eventually, the reading ended—thank you, sweet baby Jesus—and people milled around the store, fanning their faces and paging through books. More than one interested face turned my way, but I skipped my gaze over the female faces like a stone skimming the surface of a Tennessee lake.
“Who?”
I quirked a brow. “Was that a complete sentence?”
“Who. Are. You. Looking. For?” Mack enunciated each word with unwarranted glee. She knew me too well.
Truth be told, I planned on having a word with Wyatt. Now that I had Mack to run interference with any former (or future) flames who might be lurking in the crowd, I wanted intel. Wyatt had to know more about Suzette.
I had only reformed so much.
Which would be not at all.
I ignored my wolf’s unwelcome truth. I might have vowed never to date or hurt the people in my life again, nor steal their cars, but my Suzette wasn’t just another date.
It was far too soon to be certain, yet somehow, instinctively, I knew. Suzette was unique and special.
Sure, she was beautiful, with that naughty dimple and the smile that lit her up from within. She was all glorious curves and wild curls, dark-eyed and playful, and she fit in my arms as if she were the missing piece of my life.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about her. A mystery waiting to be solved or maybe the best kind of puzzle. When I thought about her, I wanted to spout stupid pickup lines about how heaven was missing an angel .
Don’t , my wolf groaned. For fuck’s sake, you need help. There’s got to be a dating book in here somewhere. Buy it. Steal it. Annotate it, please. Reenact Wyatt’s stuff if you must.
I did need help. Suzette was refreshingly blunt, but I got the sense that I might not really know where I stood with her. Was it her open love of bad puns? Her easy charm and playful flirting?
I wasn’t interested in falling back into bad habits, moving from one bedroom (or truck cab) to the next, never giving myself the chance to care or know more. My relationships to date had been truck stops, quick pull-ins and even quicker pullouts. There was a whole lot of mileage on me, and I’d earned it going nowhere important. That wasn’t the man—or wolf—that I was anymore. It wasn’t who I chose to be.
I’d barely met Suzette, but I wanted to know more about her.
I wanted everything with her.
Love at first sight? Not a chance , my wolf scoffed. Blue balls and a pretty woman, that’s what I’m thinking. She’s not our mate.
He didn’t sound sure, though.
He sounded as scared and off-balance as I felt.
“Tell me,” Mack demanded. “Why are you making that face?”
“Because I’m apparently Wyatt’s muse?”
Mack pursed her lips. “A valid point.”
I grimaced, and she giggled. Spotting Wyatt standing by the cash register and chatting with the town sheriff, I laid a course for my business partner and nemesis. Mack let me draw her along, acknowledging the greetings and questions from the crowd with a brief head tip and no more. I was not getting waylaid.
“Where are we going? Are we drawing some personal boundaries with Wyatt?” Mack waited to ask her question until we’d gotten past the worst of the crowd. Who knew that so many people in Moonlight Valley enjoyed reading?
I shook my head. That wolf was out of the bag.
“I’ve got questions for Wyatt. I dropped someone off at his place in Phantom Falls, and I want to know more about her.”
Mack wouldn’t share my secret. She did not believe in blackmail or holding past misdeeds over my head, like my brothers did.
Sure enough, she was all in on helping me out. “We can grill him like a steak, but first I need caffeine. Let’s coffee up and then go after him.”
“I’ll buy you the world’s best espresso machine if you stick to me tonight.”
“Make it a Velvetiser and you’ve got a deal.”
She had herself a deal. I pulled up in front of Wyatt and the sheriff, mentally prepping my list of questions. Alphabetical order, by theme, in order of importance? I was not sure what my best approach would be, but then I heard what the sheriff was saying.
“...and most of the television crew has arrived. They’ll start filming next week, so the nondisclosure isn’t necessary anymore. You can let folks know. The producers are all up at those cabins by Phantom Falls, and the production crew is coming in. They’ll be at the motel.”
Wyatt nodded along, clearly not surprised by any of this information. His gaze snagged on Mack standing by my side. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Mackenzie. I had no idea you’d come out tonight.”
He stepped around the sheriff, arms coming up for a hug as he reached for Mack.
I stepped into his arms and winked at him. “You give the best hugs. It’s been so long since we saw each other.”
I might trust Wyatt Reynolds with my money, but I did not believe for one hot second that he deserved my little sister.
He shoved me away, scowling. Too damned bad. He could come and ask the Boones how we all felt about him stepping out with Mack. I was just one of six overprotective men and their wolves who would have an opinion, and even then, she’d already made her choice. She’d picked Rue Ansel. And Rue was six foot five of muscled, grim scientist.
“Wyatt. It’s been an age.” Mack held out her right hand like a queen. She also did not trust him one bit.
She’s got good instincts.
Wyatt frowned—as Mack out-mannered him—and she turned to the sheriff. “What are y’all chatting about?”
Sheriff Jacob scratched at the stubble on his jaw. Being hairy and rough around the edges was one of the disadvantages of being a werewolf. “We have us some out-of-towners. They’re shooting some episodes for a television show out at Phantom Falls and hereabouts. There will be an open call going out for extras next week.”
Mack clapped her hands. “Who’s in it? Anyone famous?”
“No idea.” Sheriff Jacob shrugged. “But then I don’t subscribe to all those services you all have today. I’m not paying to watch television.”
“Luke Hensley was the male lead last season and it looks like he’s reprising his role in some form.” Wyatt counted off names on his fingers. “Then you’ve got Zach Quick, Nick Swift, Marlene Kerrigan, and Sonnet Ruiz. Those are definitely headliners.”
“Wow.” Mack’s mouth fell open, and she looked vaguely stunned. “Sonnet Ruiz? And Luke Hensley? Sweet sassy molassey.”
Wyatt grinned. “Sweet sassy molassey?”
“Whisper to the stars and make them sigh,” Mack continued her made-up rhyme, babbling nonsense in her glee at the possibility of all these visitors descending on our corner of Tennessee.
“Should I know who these people are?” Their names were not familiar.
“Sonnet Ruiz writes really funny books and one of them is the basis for my favorite TV show. She plays the lead in it and it’s had multiple seasons already. I think she’s also super into Gremlincore on her social media, although she mostly keeps that stuff private. She’s not the usual Hollywood type, but the show is really good and having her and Luke on the same set will be explosive.”
That was a whole lot of information. “Why is this Luke a problem?”
“He was briefly Sonnet’s boyfriend, and he’s had a hard time getting new parts since they broke up and he became the ex -boyfriend.”
“And you know this how?”
“ Everyone knows.” She waved her hands. “It’s all over social media and the internet. Even those tabloid magazines by the checkout in the supermarket know.”
Those same magazines assured me weekly that Bigfoot had been sighted and that aliens had crash-landed on the lawn of the White House. I did not trust Mack’s sources.
“I’m going to agree with Mackenzie.” Wyatt nodded. “None of this is news to me.”
“Well, it is to me.” The sheriff shot me a look. He was under the mistaken impression that our shared ignorance was one of many things we had in common. “I’m gonna go and update the rest of our fine town.”
I watched him go and inadvertently met the gaze of one of Wyatt’s female readers. Hastily, I turned to Mack, giving the lady my back.
“You are too funny, Mav.” Mackenzie looked downright gleeful. “You don’t actually think Ranger invited your lady friends, do you? He was pulling your leg with that crack.”
“For real?” Not having considered the possibility, I stared at her stupidly for a moment too long. Click. My slack-jawed gape would be immortalized for all posterity on Ranger’s phone.
Wyatt bellowed with laughter. “You believe anything, Maverick. Ranger has been planning tonight’s little joke for ages. He did not invite the Relyae twins. They ain’t here.”
Mack nudged my shoulder with hers. “You’re a big chicken when it comes to the ladies.”
“Not all ladies,” I clarified. “Just the ones I’ve dated and never called back.”
“Have you not-called any ladies in the last five years?” This was Wyatt asking, and that wolf had done more writing about sex than having it.
“I have called no one and dated no one. My life has been a dating desert. I have made zero overtures.”
“As far as you recall.” Mack laughed harder.
This did not make me seem like a reformed man or even a semi-decent person. “Y’all make me seem like a heartless charmer. I am reformed.”
“You got around.” Wyatt shrugged. “But not anymore. You charm no one and nothing, not deliberately at any rate.”
Before I could protest, Mack cut in, “You can’t help being a himbo.”
Wyatt nodded vigorously. “People think you can’t possibly be smart, looking the way you do. Cute is not a dating plus.”
A . . . himbo ?
I looked the definition up on my phone and had questions. I was not an attractive, stupid man. Or at least, I was not both of those qualities at the same time.
“I am not cute,” I growled. “Or a himbo . I am a wolf. That’s the antithesis of cute and stupid.”
“Furry. Fluffy. Super friendly. You’re a total teddy bear.” Mack ticked these points off on her fingers.
Canis lupus . Not Ursidae .
“And flirtatious,” Wyatt said dryly, reaching over to tap Mack’s fourth finger. “Don’t forget that. You and Atticus get that trait from your daddy. When either of you walk into a room, the rest of us might as well be wearing an invisibility cloak.”
Once upon a time, I would have loved hearing how I took after my sire. Now I knew better.
Any comparison to Darrell Boone was a negative, and I’d spent the last five years proving I was better than that.
Given the note of bitterness in Wyatt’s voice, however, I suspected that he’d had a recent personal run-in with Atticus, because Atticus was the very definition of not celibate . My brother enjoyed having sex, and he enjoyed having it often.
This was my cue to change the subject rather than raise Wyatt’s hackles. I still needed information about my Suzette.
“I met your newest tenant earlier today,” I said.
Wyatt frowned then bristled. “My tenant?”
“Suzette,” I prompted. “Short, curvy, dresses like a witch on Halloween?”
“Suzette.” He gave nothing away.
“She said she was renting at your cabin on Phantom Falls and that she knew you from your college days.”
Amber sheeted over his eyes. He knew who I meant alright. “You met her?”
“Hiking around in the mountains. She’d fallen down a hill and got turned around, so I drove her up to the falls and your cabin.”
“Right.” He fiddled with the fancy fountain pen he used to sign his blasted books. I did not point out that he’d drawn a streak of gold ink across his thumb pad.
From the way he was prevaricating, the less interested I sounded, the better. Apparently, he either thought Suzette was too good for me (true) or he was interested in her himself ( the better wolf is gonna win ).
“Anyhow, I’m just letting you know that I took her over to Phantom Falls. Ford is picking up her vehicle and delivering it.”
He nodded. “Great.”
I waited, but he did not elaborate further. He also did not acknowledge that personal vehicle delivery was not a service All-Purpose Animal Services provided and that I was not an Uber driver.
He sucks , my wolf opined. That’s our girl. Let’s bite him.
It was tempting, but I’d spent too long trying to be a better person ( WOLF ) to lose it now.
I flashed my teeth at Wyatt and said, “Great.” Turning to my sister, I held out my arm at a perfect ninety degrees. If I was going to be dismissed as a gentleman, I’d be the best gentleman ever. “Milady? Coffee?”
Mack tucked her hand into the crook of my arm. “You betcha.”
I guided her away from the ever-annoying Wyatt and toward the coffee bar in the back of the bookstore, greeting the other wolves we met with polite thanks and my very best aw-shucks manners.
My temporary literary fame was no big deal. I was the same wolf I’d always been: in control, affable, laidback.
Suzette had seemed interested in me, or so I’d believed. But I was also a rusty dater. My flirting skills had grown moss from disuse. Maybe I had been mistaken. Maybe she was just a charmer or someone nice. Maybe she had merely been polite.
Clearly, I needed to practice my social skills.
Suzette’s being Wyatt’s lady love was good, right? There was no room in my life for a mate, and I had sworn off casual fun.
CHASE THE GIRL. DO IT.
No chasing , I vowed. We keep our hands and paws to ourselves .