Werewolves In Love: Ready To Run Part 8

Her heart skipped a beat when he flashed that sly, smarta.s.s grin at her, the one that gave her b.u.t.terflies in her stomach and regions lower. d.a.m.n, he was beautiful. With the hair, and the eyes, and the dimples and the grin and the body, she knew he must have women swarming all over him in Houston. She swallowed hard, dismayed at the sudden stab of pain somewhere near her heart.

"I'm not jogging-I'm running. On four feet. I didn't get to do much of it in Luxor."

"Oh!" She blushed, feeling incredibly stupid, but he just stood there rubbing a strand of her hair between his fingers and smiling at her. "Um...what did you do in Luxor? About, uh-"

"s.h.i.+fting. Getting furry, going four-footed."

"Okay, yeah. Don't you have to do it regularly?"

He came to stand in front of her barstool, and she had to tilt her head back to look at him. Acutely conscious of his bare chest inches away, she kept her hands wrapped around her coffee mug so he wouldn't see them shaking. G.o.d, he smelled good.

He skimmed his thumb across her cheek. Her heart skipped another five or six beats.

"No. Every wolf's different. I'm an alpha, so I don't have to s.h.i.+ft as often as betas do. In Luxor I s.h.i.+fted about a dozen times, but only for a few hours."

"Weren't you worried about being seen?"

"Not really. Sneaking around places I didn't belong was my job in the Corps. I'm pretty good at it."

"Oh."

Right as another one of those uncomfortable silences started forming, he said, "Okay, I'm gonna go. The guys are expecting me and it's a long drive. Don't be nervous about meeting TJ."

"I'm not nervous."

"Yes you are. I can smell your fear." His hand tightened on her neck, keeping her head tilted up to him as his thumb stroked her cheek. He sure didn't seem in a hurry to go. "I can smell everything on you," he added huskily.

Her heels were resting on the rung of the barstool. He pushed her knee away so he could stand between her legs, cupping her head in both hands now.

She flashed back to two nights ago, when she was ready to jump his bones right there on her couch.

Oh, dear Lord. Could he really smell everything on her? Because right now she was so turned on...

He leaned down and ran his tongue feather-light across her bottom lip. She couldn't repress a s.h.i.+ver, and she knew by the way he smiled that he'd felt it. Ever so gently, he nipped at her bottom lip and licked it again. She parted her mouth wider and his tongue dipped in to meet hers.

She didn't even know she was touching him until he growled softly, low in his throat, and then her hand registered the hard muscles of his back, the heat of his skin beneath her palms. The kiss deepened, his tongue warm and insistent in her mouth. "d.a.m.n." He nibbled at her lips as he spoke, as if he couldn't stop, and the thought made her giddy. "Every time I start kissing you, I just want to keep kissing you. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do when I see you again." He brushed a last, swift kiss across her forehead and grabbed his keys.

"Have fun with TJ. I'll call you later."

By the time she got her voice back, he was out the door.

The doorbell rang as while she was reading the Chronicle online. She walked down the two flights of stairs, her stomach in knots, and opened the door.

"Hi. I'm TJ. Ever seen one of these?" The short, buxom redhead held up a black credit card.

Sara blinked in surprise. Then she gasped.

TJ grinned. "This is Nick Wargman's black Amex. Ever heard of a place called the Galleria?"

She nodded, dumbstruck.

"Good. Saleswomen will treat you like dirt because you're in jeans and tennis shoes and a scratchy T-s.h.i.+rt and pretty as a fairy princess. I'll wave this card like a magic wand and watch them start kissing your a.s.s. This is gonna be fun. I'm warning you, though, some of them will a.s.sume you're f.u.c.king Nick. Get your purse. Oh, do you drink?"

"Um, yes."

"Thank G.o.d. I need a margarita."

Chapter Six.

The Pack had several acres on the other side of Katy, about an hour and a half from Houston. Nick Wargman's late and unlamented father, the previous Alpha, had purchased it back in the sixties. It had a big house where the Pack held formal meetings and family gatherings throughout the year, and several smaller bunkhouses with beds and bathrooms.

After an exhausting, exhilarating four-hour run, Bryan felt better than he had in two months. He even felt a little less stressed about Sara. She wasn't the clingy type-she didn't seem to be measuring for drapes or anything. He still wanted to see her-and touch her, and taste her-and after the kiss this morning, he thought she felt the same way. Maybe they could reset the relations.h.i.+p to something more than casual but less than committed and see what happened from there.

Once he'd showered and changed, he called her. Her phone went straight to voicemail. He left a message, feeling slightly silly-there was no reason for him to keep tabs on her.

He called her again when he hit Houston, and then a third time as he was running around town. The fourth time he failed to reach her, he hit end before voicemail kicked in.

Where the h.e.l.l was she? TJ Turner could easily shop for six hours, but Sara didn't seem the type.

He got home to find that a shopping mall had thrown up in his living room. Judging by the names on the bags and boxes spilling off the sofa, he guessed it was the Galleria. Still no sign of Sara, though.

"Holy s.h.i.+t, angel," he muttered. "Did you leave anything in the Tupperware?"

On cue, his cell rang.

"TJ?"

"No, it's me!" Sara sounded very happy. So did a lot of people in the background.

"Are you at Cowgirls?"

"Yes! How'd you know?"

"Because I hang out there a lot. I guess TJ's with you?"

"Yeah! We dropped off the loot at your place and then came here. This place is unbelievable! One of the managers said they're hiring, and he thinks I'd fit in great!"

All the bartenders at Cowgirls and Werewolves were hot young werewolves, and all the waitresses were hot young females. They brought in the guys, both wolves and men, while the werewolves brought in the females. Bryan was oddly unenthusiastic about the idea of Sara getting hit on all the time.

"I've been trying to call you all day. Don't you have your phone with you?"

"Yeah, but it's out of juice. Piece of c.r.a.p can't hold a charge." She was quiet for a minute. "So...you wanna join us?"

"Sure. I have to stop somewhere first. See you in a few."

"He says he has to make one stop and then he'll be up here."

"Of course he will," said TJ. "He's not gonna leave you alone in a bar crawling with men and werewolves. What? What's the matter?"

Sara shrugged, embarra.s.sed to be so transparent. "I don't think Bryan's gonna be jealous of guys hanging around me."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's not like we're really dating."

"You're not?"

"No. I mean-you know why he asked me out in the first place, don't you?"

TJ nodded, completely serious now. "Yeah. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have real feelings for you. He brought you back here and you're staying at his house."

Sara waved a hand. "Yeah, but-that's because he's a good guy."

TJ nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's a very good guy." She leaned forward to stare intently at Sara. "You know, those a.s.sholes almost got my best friend. They did get a friend of hers. What B did was important. I know it shocked you to find out who he really is, but if they end up busting this gang, he'll deserve a lot of the credit. And he didn't have to bring you home with him. He could've just turned you over to the cops up in Dallas."

She had no answer for that. Feeling vaguely ashamed, but not sure why, she covered her discomfort by taking a big slurp of margarita and looking around Cowgirls.

It looked like a honky-tonk on steroids, with a huge wooden porch on the first floor and a covered wrap-around wooden deck on the second. She and TJ were on the second floor deck. Two sides of the first floor had rolling metal doors instead of walls. There were two bars downstairs, one up. A staircase in the middle of the first floor ran up to the middle of the second floor. Overhead TVs blared from every corner, and on the second floor were pool tables, pinball machines and a tiny dance floor. Sparkling Christmas lights were strung throughout the place, twinkling in the dusky glow of the early October sun.

"So how'd you like your first time at church?" TJ asked.

"Church?" Sara responded, startled.

"Yeah. Nordstrom's my spiritual home. See, Burberry and Juicy Couture and Betsey Johnson-those are like the Vatican, or Westminster Abbey. Overwhelming, and way too expensive to visit very often. But Nordstrom is like regular church. You can attend weekly if you want."

"Seriously? You think those prices are normal?"

TJ c.o.c.ked her head. "Yeah."

"I paid a hundred and fifty-eight dollars for a dress! I've never paid anywhere near that for clothes in my life!"

"This is Houston, girlfriend. You've got opportunities you didn't have in Luxor. And besides, Nick paid for it all. And I can't tell you how much I enjoyed shoving that Amex in those peoples' faces after they got a look at you. G.o.d, that was fun." She stretched and yawned. "I'll take you back there soon and we can hit Ann Taylor and the Gap. They're not expensive. We just didn't spend enough time there today."

"We shopped for four solid hours! My feet feel like I pulled a double!"

TJ waved a hand. "You're an amateur. I'm a pro-four hours in that place is nothing. Trust me. We'll turn you into a real Houstonian, and real Houstonians like to shop." She paused. "And drive. And drink margaritas and eat Mexican food and b.i.t.c.h about the weather. I love this city."

"So you're a native?"

TJ grinned and rolled her eyes. "h.e.l.l no. Didn't come here 'til college-I went to the U of H. I'm from Silsbee. Ever heard of it?"

Sara nodded. "It's a lot bigger than Luxor."

"You could still fit the population inside Reliant Stadium eight or nine times." She looked up from slurping her margarita, a question on her face. "You been out of Luxor before?"

Sara shrugged, feeling very country mouse. "Well, yeah, but only to other small towns. I never even got to Dallas. I mean, I wanted to, but it wasn't something people did."

TJ chewed on her straw thoughtfully. "Huh. Weird. See, I grew up Silsbee, and when I was a teenager, all any of us ever wanted was out. First thing you did, soon as you had your license, was drive to Houston."

"Yeah, but is Silsbee full of Apocalyptics?"

"Ah. No, thank G.o.d. That's the difference. I guess it's like living in a bubble, isn't it?"

"I always thought of it as a snowglobe. When we ran into the gla.s.s wall we had to turn around and go back."

TJ c.o.c.ked her head with a little smile. "I like that. Very poetic." She broke into a smile at something over Sara's shoulders. "Hey, guys!" she called. "What's up? Y'all play a game today?"

A big knot of big guys had emerged from the staircase. They headed for the table as soon as they saw TJ. One hulking guy carrying three pitchers of beer in each hand banged them down on the table while the other guys grabbed chairs. Within seconds they were surrounded by more men her age than lived within a hundred miles of Luxor.

Cowgirls was hopping, which was normal for a pretty Sunday afternoon. The bar attracted werewolves, of course, and human males as well. Not many cowgirls, since it was in the middle of a huge city, but women of every other description. The vehicles in the parking lot ranged from custom motorcycles to pickup trucks to luxury sports cars and everything in between. Bryan's only complaint about the place was the way it plugged up his nose-between the scents of Memorial Park, two blocks to the west, and the exhaust fumes wafting from I-10, to the north, and the alcohol and cigarettes and sweat, he couldn't smell a d.a.m.ned thing. It didn't do much for his hearing, either.

When he got to the downstairs bar, he saw Taran Lloyd, a detective with HPD's s.h.i.+fter Investigations Unit.

"Hey, good to see you, wolf," Taran said with a slap on Bryan's back. "And great job in Luxor. What are you drinking?"

"s.h.i.+ner would be nice. Thanks a lot."

Taran placed the order and propped an elbow on the bar. "So you caught two bad guys and rescued the maiden."

"Yep."

"Congratulations on bringing them down alive." Taran had killed two of Kuba's a.s.sholes last winter when they tried to attack his mate. He was also on an interagency task force investigating the gang.

"Thanks. Listen. Have the Feds said anything about Sara? Is she even on their radar?" He a.s.sumed Nick had filled Taran in on everything.

Taran shrugged. "Of course she is. They want to talk to you, and they wonder why you left before they showed up."

"s.h.i.+t."

"It would've been better if you'd ditched her car before y'all left, but I guess there wasn't time."

"No, there wasn't."

The bartender slid their beers over.

"You know," Taran said after he took a swig, "they'd be real interested in her memory. I'm sure they'd be willing to ignore any involvement she had in the family business if she had information to offer."

"I don't know if she does, but I'll ask her. I'm meeting her here."

Taran nodded. "I know. TJ called Lark to come up." He took another swig of beer and gave Bryan a long, shrewd look. "I hear she's hot."

"Who's hot?" said a female voice. Bryan turned to see Taran's mate-and fiancee-Lark Manning.