Moore, Gigi - Desiree's Lone Wolves [The Double R, Book 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (4 page)

Sam had said “our girl,” and Carson didn’t know why it had sounded so right to his ears, but he couldn’t deny that as much as he wanted and tried to keep his distance, he felt a certain amount of possessiveness where Ms. Jensen was concerned. He guessed he suffered a bit of the dog—or in this case, wolf—in the manger syndrome. He didn’t want her,
shouldn’t
want her, but he didn’t want anyone else to want or have her, either.

Just as he thought this, the subject of his and Sam’s conversation traversed the dining hall, past the buffet line on her way to the kitchen where, he knew, she would be warmly welcomed by his mama and the ranch’s other cookhouse staff. Since she’d made it known how much she loved to cook and loved learning new things about exotic and regional cuisine, Mama and the rest of the staff had taken her under their collective wings, much as it was rumored that the main house’s housekeeper had formed a motherly relationship with Desiree.

Some of the menu choices at the communal dining hall already showed the Yankee’s influence, specifically in the dessert offerings. Desiree’s authentic New York cheesecake was particularly popular, especially among the visitors
from
New York. Not to mention the woman’s flan proved a dieter and diabetic’s worst nightmare.

Coming from the Big Easy, Carson appreciated a creamy, rich dessert as well as any other self-respecting Cajun and had tried the latter with almost too much relish. In fact, he’d thought he would come on the spot after his first bite. Next to the idea of tasting the creator of the flan herself, it had been the most sensual highlight of that week for Carson.

He closed his eyes now and licked his lips at the idea of dipping his tongue into Desiree’s hot, sweet
cocotte
, licking her cream, and making her shudder and come around him.

Carson choked off a groan at the image, shifting his weight from one leg to the other trying to accommodate his suddenly stiff cock.
Couillon.
Idiot!

“You all right?”

He shook himself at his brother’s urgent whisper and opened his eyes to see the chow line moving again. “Right as rain.”

Sam gave him a knowing grin that made Carson want to cuff the runt upside the head.

That smart-aleck grin said it all—that Sam knew very well Carson was as hard as a spike because of Desiree’s arrival, and nothing and no one else.

“You didn’t sound all right a minute ago. You sounded like someone who needed an exorcism, or maybe you were doing a Lurch impersonation.”

Carson just barely stifled a laugh as he gave his brother the evil eye.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Mind your own business.”

“I’m thinking anything that almost brings the mighty Carson Quarry to his knees
is
my business. Or should I be thinking any
one
?”

“You can think whatever you want, just keep those thoughts to yourself,
Samson.
” He felt his brother bristle at hearing his Christian name and knew he had hit his target, at least for the moment. There was nothing Sam hated more than hearing his given name in that reprimanding tone. The only thing worse would be to hear their mama call him by his first and middle names in public—Samson Galen.

Carson often wondered what their parents had been thinking when they’d named his brother. At least they had offset the feminine-sounding middle name with the powerful Samson, though Sam barely appreciated it more than Galen.

Mama often said Sam reminded her of his biblical namesake, coming out of her womb with a head full of dark-brown hair. Until that moment, she’d said, she’d put down her constant indigestion to all the rich Cajun cooking she’d doubled up on and not the abundant curly hair on her newborn’s head.

Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Your secret’s safe with me, Carson
Beauregard
.”

Carson gritted his teeth at the mention of
his
middle name. “
Touché.
”

He really didn’t need his brother’s reminder of what a big lie their lives had become with his allusion to keeping secrets, either.

Ever since they’d been on the run their lives had been a series of lies, secrets, and staying under the radar. Constantly moving and trying to stay a step ahead of their former pack’s alpha. They’d just, since arriving at The Double R almost a year ago, taken to using their real, given names again, though they’d stayed with the completely alien Quarry for their last name, one that was unrelated to any parent or grandparent as far as Mama knew.

True, they had put years, miles, and numerous career changes between themselves and their old lives, but Carson often wondered at the wisdom of taking back their own first names, despite his appreciation at being able to tell one less lie, especially to his employers. He appreciated the stab at normalcy more for Sam and their mama than he did for himself.

Carson knew how much Sam resented having to live his life on the run and on the fringes like a criminal, suppressing his natural friendly and outgoing nature, especially when it came to interacting with women he found attractive.

None of them could allow emotional attachments, however, because emotional attachments eventually begot intimate questions. Intimate questions that none of them could afford to answer without eventually becoming discovered for what they were and what they had done—or, more accurately, what Carson had done.

The truth could get them nothing but incredulity and fear. The truth could get them caught and confined if not outright executed, depending on who was doing the catching and confining.

The truth could prove dangerous to them as well as those they cared about, so it remained better to not care about anyone but each other. This way, when it came to leaving, they wouldn’t hurt too many people, except for themselves.

Carson understood how much his brother and mother had sacrificed over the years to keep him safe, and he regretted that they felt the need to forego a normal existence for him.

Once, a few years back, he had decided to move forward on his own. He’d known Sam and his mother would try to stop him if he said something to them beforehand, so he’d just left one night without a word to anyone. He’d been sure he was making the right decision for Sam and his mother because they deserved a normal life, at least as normal an existence as a pair of hybrid shifters without their pack could live. Freedom—for any of them—hadn’t lasted for long.

Carson remembered now how relieved he’d been once Sam and Mama had tracked him down a few days after his departure from one of their last residences. Going it alone with his family, cut off from their pack, was about as much of a lone wolf as he wanted to be. Surviving without his blood, however, was more than he wanted to endure.

Even though he wasn’t sociable by any stretch of the imagination, nowhere near as flirty, friendly, and open as his brother, Carson
needed
to be around at least his family. He needed to protect them the same way they tried to protect him. He’d been filling in as alpha and protector to his small family since the circumstances that had taken his father’s life.

He hadn’t considered this duty and his protective nature such curses until several years ago, but now they seemed the bane of his existence—the bane of his family’s existence. If he hadn’t felt the need to stick his dutiful and protective nose where it didn’t belong, minding human business, he and his family wouldn’t be in the predicament they were in now.

He wouldn’t have met Desiree Jensen, either.

Not that meeting her did him much good when he couldn’t follow his natural instincts and act on his attraction.

Carson hadn’t regretted much in his life, but the evening he’d gone against his alpha’s son and stood up for a human female against his pack was something he often had second thoughts about. Sure Duane was an asshole who had been jealous of and riding Carson for as long as anyone could remember, but he remained the alpha’s
son
, and Carson had killed him.

Would he do the same if he had it to do over again? Would he protect that girl and kill a fellow shifter, a
pack member
, for the sake of defending a full human?

Was some higher power throwing Desiree in his path to test his resolve and see if he would make the same mistake twice? Had he learned his lesson about fraternizing outside of his species, or would he let another luscious pair of tits and a firm, round ass be his downfall again?

He had to admit that Desiree remained a temptation he found harder and harder to resist.

Resist her he would, however, because something told Carson that his brother wouldn’t resist the beautiful full-human female’s charms if given half the chance—at least not for much longer—and one of them had to have a level head.

He supposed that one had to be him.

Carson had failed his brother and mother once before, letting his hormones and a rare moment of impulse get the best of him.

He didn’t intend to fail them again.

Chapter 3

“So what’s taking you so long?”

Sam just missed slamming his finger with the hammer instead of the horseshoe he was shaping on the anvil. And even though he’d avoided contact, his finger still felt a ghost of pain, as if remembering the hurt from a previous incident. Sam had had plenty of hammer-slamming-his-finger incidents in the past to last him a lifetime. Despite being a Sagittarius, a zodiac sign notorious for clumsiness, he wasn’t usually so klutzy. A pretty woman could do it to him every time, though, and turn him into a gangly teen tripping over himself. Especially when he had been caught unawares.

Sam slowly turned to see Maia Jensen standing behind him and playfully put his free hand over his heart. “You really ought not to sneak up on a body like that.”

“I wasn’t sneaking. You were just buried so deep in your passion you didn’t hear me coming.”

Sam grinned at the lady’s double-entendre. She was about as fresh and flirty as him, and that was saying something. His mama said he had come out of her womb winking at the nurses in the delivery room and collecting phone numbers.

Maia walked around him to see what he was working on and paused. “Damn, you boys do a little bit of everything around here, huh? You make shoes, too?”

“Not all cowboys do. I just like keeping myself busy.” That wasn’t the half of it. If he didn’t keep himself busy, stay “buried so deep,” and wear himself out during the days, he inevitably spent his nights tossing and turning when he wasn’t mired in wet dreams about Maia’s sister that wouldn’t quit.

“I hear you, which brings me back to my first question. What’s taking you so long?”

“What’s taking me so long to what?”

“Not just you, per se, but you and that strong, silent brother of yours. When do you think you boys will start making a move on my sister?”

Sam gawked. “Both of us?”

Maia reached her hand out to caress the shoe on the anvil, shrugging as she circled Sam. “I know it sounds kind of perverted, but looking at Tamara I’d say she’s definitely set a precedent. Not to mention this sort of thing probably runs in the family.”

“Your family?”

“Something like that.”

Was the woman saying all the Jensen-Carpenter women went in for threesomes? And what made her think that he and his brother would be down for the same with her sister? Not that he was totally adverse to the idea, especially now that she had him thinking on it. He didn’t think Carson would entertain the idea for more than a minute, not when the man spent all his time trying to avoid any dalliances, much less one that might involve him
and
his younger brother. “Does Desiree know you’re pimping for her?”

Maia laughed, no sign of embarrassment on her face, just genuine mischievousness lighting her eyes. “You Cajun boys have such a way of putting things.”

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised by her allusion to his background and tamped down his initial reaction, instead just lifting up one corner of his mouth in what he knew was his killer, nonchalant grin. Maia responded with a killer-wattage smile of her own. “Am I accurate?”