His Bacon Sundae Werewolf

Evernight
Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014 Angelique
Voisen

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-093-9

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
JS
Cook

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or
distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names,
characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To
Evernight
Publishing, for giving my Wolves of New Haven
series a home.
To the readers who’ve followed the series from book one, I hope you
enjoy Pat and Jules’s story as much I enjoyed writing it.

HIS BACON SUNDAE
WEREWOLF

Wolves of New Haven, 4

Angelique
Voisen

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

The trail ended
here, at the sleepy little town of New Haven. With his car parked by the side
of the road, Jules Gutierrez lowered his windows to let out the smell of
cigarettes and take-out. He inhaled a lungful of fresh air and sighed. The
refreshing
smell of pine caressed his nostrils and he let
his eyes devour the picturesque view. Two towering straight rows of pine trees
and oaks lined the wide-swept road that led to New Haven, and beyond them
rose
the breathtaking Blue Mountains the town was famous
for.

For a moment,
Jules imagined what it was like running through those uncharted woods on four
legs with his mate by his side and the wind caressing their fur. After the run,
he imagined lying down on an untouched bed of freshly fallen autumn leaves with
Cole’s rough unshaven cheek pressed against his neck while his fingers drew
lazy circles on his mate’s bare chest.

Then grief would
rip out his still-beating heart and he’d remember that Cole was dead.
Murdered with no ounce of finesse, like an animal in a
slaughterhouse.
Cole was the reason why Jules had been unable to sleep
and why he’d always been on the move. Why he was in New Haven in the first
place.

“Sorry quaint
little New Haven, you’re just about to get dirty and smudged with the outside
world’s ugliness.”

Jules tore his
eyes from the view and turned his attention to his lunch. He finished his
take-out burger in three bites. Like always, most food tasted like paper in his
mouth no matter how much he ate. Jules was a sensory deprived man these days,
only able to comprehend a limited scope of a world once filled with sensations.

After Cole died,
he felt like he was a dead man walking, a man deprived of purpose. As a wolf,
it was only right to follow his mate into death once Cole died. Once he found a
couple of murder scenes too similar to Cole’s around the area where he lived
however, he found a new purpose. Even if chasing after that purpose would lead
to his death, Jules really wasn’t complaining. There was nothing else to live
for after his work was done.
 

He took a fistful
of fries from his take-out bag, licked the grease off his fingers and worked on
the burger chain’s new ingenious invention—a bacon sundae. Most food tasted
little better than cardboard to him, but not this bacon sundae. The combination
of grease and vanilla sweetness hit and ensnared his senses immediately, leaving
nothing to the imagination. Jules finished it off in mere seconds.

With his stomach
settled, Jules drove into town. New Haven wasn’t particularly big or small, but
somewhere in between. There was the main town center, a couple of residential
blocks and a park near the rail system that connected New Haven to the rest of
the Quad-city areas.
 

A contact had
already set him up with a cheap one-bedroom space to rent out and he’d already
gotten a temporary gig working security at the local hospital. Jules didn’t
think he’d be staying long, but he couldn’t afford to be sloppy either. He’d
chased Cole’s killer relentlessly across the West Cities, but due to careless
mishaps, they’d almost always—but never truly—crossed paths.

He better be ready, because I’m going to tear him apart.

It was no longer a
rage-filled thought, but a tired one.
 
Even his metaphysical wolf sat worn-out inside him, burned from restless
days and
and
sleepless
 
nights
. A sign caught his eye as he
drove through the main town center. A simple single-floor brick building with a
Weight Losers banner hung above the front door. Jules parked by the curb and
got out.

Gone were the days
where he kept himself in top shape for Cole. If he wanted a shot at his dead
mate’s killer, he had to be on some level of fitness at least. Sharpen both his
mind and body. Being in the program would also keep his mind off things he’d
rather not relieve again.

The handsome young
thing behind the reception table, probably a college student working part-time,
flashed a disarming smile at Jules.
Nice-looking boy.
The
old me would’ve poked and waited around to see if he was gay. The old me…it’s
been a while since the old me came out.
Jules was just making his way to
the table when he bumped into a soft wall.

“Oh
sorry.”
The man who spoke was huge, hairy, and
had a few inches of height over Jules.

He would’ve looked
threatening given his girth and height, but the flush that crept over his
bearded face made Jules pause to study him closer. Thoughts of the slender
college boy fled from his mind as he took in the other man. He had a biker’s
sexy and dishevelled look about him. He wore a beat-up denim jacket and faded
jeans. Intelligent chocolate brown eyes peered from his bearded face and his
untidy wild hair was tied up in a small ponytail.

“No problem, man.
I’m Jules.” Jules held out a hand, which only made the large man blush even
harder.

“Pat,” he
muttered. His large hand accepted Jules’s handshake.

It was rough, but
warm. They felt like hands capable of both violence and gentleness. How Jules
knew that, he wasn’t certain. There was just something about his shyness that
Jules found appealing, but instinct told him that this man wasn’t just a rabbit
in a bear suit.

“Nice
to meet you, Pat.
I’m new in town.” Jules
flashed him his most charming smile. That usually set the hearts of most men
and women a-flutter.

He was a flirt and
liked being a flirt, although he never went so far as to cheat on his mate.
Jules may be a natural born flirt, but he was a loyal mate. Cole’s death
might’ve made him a little grim and dark, but he couldn’t change what he was.
Pat only blinked at him slowly, as if wondering why he was still there.

Not wanting to
appear discomforted by his reaction, Jules continued, “are you on your way in
or out?”

“Out.”
The large man waved a few pamphlets in his free hand, as if that
explained everything. Much to Jules’s astonishment, he simply took that as the
end of their conversation and began to walk away.

Jules was no
longer just perplexed by his strange reaction. He was beyond annoyed. Maybe the
guy was just straight or had a bad day? Jules could feel an itch at the back of
his neck. People in general universally found themselves drawn to his
personality. He was incorrigible and likable, even to straight men. Not knowing
why, Jules abruptly gripped one hairy arm, and the pamphlets with words like
“Point Plus” and “Create Your Own Recipe” scattered everywhere.

“Shit. Sorry,
man.” Jules bent down, but was rudely shoved away by the hairy giant.

“
It’s
fine,” Pat said tightly, not meeting his eyes as he
bent down to pick up the papers.

The guy actually
shoved him! Jules ignored the anger rising out of him and helped the man. “No
it’s not fine. Here.”

“Thanks,” Pat
muttered.

He stood there
with his crumpled papers pressed against his chest, looking a little lost, his
cheeks pink and his eyes narrowing with anger.

Another thought
occurred to Jules.
Maybe what I’ve
mistaken for indifference is just really shyness? Hell, I’m just making the big
guy uncomfortable.

Jules summoned the
unwanted image of those large hands sliding down his body to the waistband of
his jeans. Then those hands would jerk the zipper of his pants down in one
violent motion and take out his cock. That bearded face would frown and ask why
he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Jules would respond with a witty remark and
gasp when Pat would cup his strong fingers around his hardening cock.

Oh damn it. I shouldn’t be fantasizing about other men.

“Look, that wasn’t
intentional, man. I’m just new in town and wanted to make new friends,” Jules
said, feeling like an immense jerk.
Wanted
to make new friends? Who says words like that anymore? What am I, twelve? I
must sound like a retard.