Wolf on Board (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 14) (4 page)

It was the perfect place, the kind she’d seen in the movies. Big, thick armchairs were stuffed into corners and books filled every nook and cranny of the shelves. Her mother taught younglings at home and loved to read. Maybe she could broach some semblance of peace by sending her the right book. Intrigued by the idea, she resisted the urge to tap her foot as each person ahead of her ordered some fancy drink with minimum foam or super dry or flat white—what was a flat white and why didn’t they just drink coffee?

The thought sparked another, and she recalled the frothy decadence of the mocchacino she’d indulged in on the beach. Fine, she was as guilty as the rest for liking something specific, but she still wished they’d hurry up. When it was finally her turn, she ordered a cup of fresh brew, no special milks, syrups or flavors. The barista gave her an odd look, then simply grinned and slid the cup over in exchange for a couple of dollars. Mimi added a bill to the tip jar then carried her cup with her as she began to explore the shop.

The classics, from Dickens to Tolstoy, occupied the shelves closest to the coffee shop. From there, she migrated toward the travel section. Old books and new mingled together. She paused to skim the blurb on the back of one that had a publishing date of 1960.
Fun.

From there, she continued to wander around the store and studied the different texts. With every minute she spent in the store, she documented the scents tracking through the shop. Three mothers, their children—and at least one grandparent. Sorting through the different people, she identified the family groups, the lovers, the friends…human or wolf, they were all the same. Families carried similar markers. Friends who spent a lot of time with each other might carry a similar nuance to their companion. The old books added another layer to the shop. The leather, for example, held the essence of those who’d handled it over the years. She picked up a slim, copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Hints of salt and a brief essence of copper stained the spine. Someone had held this while bleeding or crying or both.

Every item in the shop possessed a history, as did the people entering and exiting. Each time the door opened, a breeze drifted inside carrying hints from the ocean and the surrounding town. Underscoring the breeze, she caught the taste of coconut and brine mingling with the green scent of dewy sea grass atop the sand dunes with slivers of mint.

It wasn’t the first time she’d picked it up. Circling slowly through the store, she angled her position to glance through the windows of the shop to the little diner across the street. Sure enough, Jake Danes leaned against the wall. Her own personal stalker.

He’d been on campus the day before when she’d left her art class. Not that she’d seen him directly. No, she’d picked up his scent and seen his van. The note he left on her car had been cute.

Found you. Tag, you’re it.

Crumpling it up, she’d laughed but hadn’t taken the bait. Awareness of his attention kept her cautious, but he hadn’t made another approach. Sipping her coffee, she studied his posture. His right foot tapped. The wind tugged at his sandy blond hair, blowing it across his eyes, and he kept having to shove it out of his face by finger combing it away. A hint of scruff decorated his cheeks and what looked like spots of blue paint flecked his stubble.

Despite his attempt at casual, he seemed…uneasy, restless. While she slid the book back on the shelf, Jake straightened then ducked into the diner.
Awww, did he notice me noticing?

It shouldn’t amuse her, yet it did. Not hurrying, she continued to peruse the bookstore and finally made a couple of selections. A first edition
Charlotte’s Web
, only slightly worn around the spine with the faintest of yellowing along the pages—her mother would be thrilled. At the counter, the clerk showed her a first edition printing of a Nancy Drew novel from the ‘30s.

Grinning, Mimi pulled out her credit card. The price made her teeth clench briefly… then again, gifts didn’t need price tags. “Can I have them shipped from here?” Chances were the bookstore would know far better than she how to package them for safety and transport.

“Of course.” The older woman behind the counter gave her a toothy grin. “Just fill out the address information here, and I’ll get them ready for you. It’s only an additional ten dollars.”

Good deal.
Sliding over to the side, she filled out the address card, then added a note to a stiff piece of white paper that could be slid into the box with the books. Her mother wanted her mated and settled. Instead, she’d get first edition books.

Fair trade.

Finished with her purchase, she retreated to the café as though to get a coffee refill and checked the windows. Jake hadn’t resumed his watch post outside the diner. She could leave him to keep following her, or she could go indulge the beast. A part of her didn’t want to reward him, but another part was curious.

Though her view remained limited, she could make out Jake sitting at a table in the diner. He squinted through the glass as though he searched for her. Had he lost track of her because he’d had to duck inside?
Poor baby.
The door to the shop opened and a woman strode inside on a cloud of Chanel and bad judgment. Though the second thought had little to do with the first, she focused on the new arrival. Something in her scent, buried as it was by the perfume, triggered recognition.

Scent memory followed Mimi wherever she went. One of the reasons she loved cooking and chose a premier chef school as part of her California experiment was her ability to sort through scents. She could track blindfolded through a storm. She could identify a wolf a week after it had passed through. Reading scent markers gave her a unique perspective, the ability to sort through them even when dozens of others were present made her rare.

The woman in question paused near a display of classic postcards. Then, as if aware of Mimi’s scrutiny, the woman jerked her gaze upward and they locked eyes on each other. Gold flared around the female’s pupils.

Wolf.

Even with the perfume clogging her nostrils and irritating her sinuses, Mimi couldn’t miss the change in the underlying scent marker. The wolf didn’t carry any scents from Willow Bend or California. She didn’t belong here.

Anger tightened the stranger’s expression, but Mimi didn’t look away or back down. She’d walked into the bookshop first. She had her coffee. This was her town, at least for as long as she attended school in the area. Abandoning the postcards, the wolf strode out of the shop without a backwards glance. After tossing her cup into the trash receptacle, Mimi followed her outside to the street.

The breeze cleared the cloying notes away, but the woman vanished from sight. Torn between following her and returning to her day, Mimi almost growled at Jake’s scent overlapping her.

Pivoting, she glanced upward to scowl at her friendly neighborhood surfing stalker. He raised his hands, palms forward in a gesture of surrender. “Easy, tiger,” he said, his grin loose and friendly, though caution edged his words. “We’re in public and you’re pissed.” His facial expression and tone didn’t match his words, but the warning notes reined in her temper.

Blinking, she sucked in a deep lungful of his clean, ocean-flavored scent. Local sounds penetrated the haze flooding her with the chatter of passersby—a daughter arguing with her mother, a pair of teens murmuring about a video game, lovers on the cusp of breaking up as they argued, and more. A car backfired two streets over. The bell over the bookshop entrance jangled.

She’d been ready to pursue and take down that other wolf. What the hell was wrong with her?

“Thank you.” Mustering her self-composure, she regulated her breathing, slowed her heart rate, and calmed. “I don’t like to be taken by surprise.” Though her reaction to the she-wolf did not remotely match her reaction to Jake, she didn’t want to explore either idea at the moment.

“No problem.” He gestured toward the diner. “Hungry?”

“Not really.” Her grumbling stomach made a liar out of her, but she ignored the response. “Why are you following me?”

“Not following you, exactly.”

Folding her arms, she stiffened her posture and firmed her position there on the sidewalk. It had taken her years to perfect her father’s stare, though her mother’s could be more intimidating, depending on the circumstances. Focusing on Jake, she simply waited.

He’d crumble.

They all did.

J
ake had two choices
—come clean or bail. If he bailed, he could walk away from the Willow Bend wolf and simply pretend none of this happened. She’d wanted him to take off previously, informed him they shouldn’t share any kind of involvement. Lone Wolves were forbidden ties to avoid situations like Three Rivers. Mimi wasn’t a Lone Wolf, though. She was a wolf who roamed from her pack seeking freedom, education, and understanding.

After his earlier conversation, it was clear to Jake he wasn’t a Lone Wolf, either. He’d been roaming and sooner or later, he would go home. Bailing would be the coward’s way out. Not to mention, the boring way. If there were two things he prided himself on, he wasn’t a coward.

He sure as hell didn’t care to be boring.

“I wanted you to call me and you hadn’t.” Honesty. “So I checked a couple of the cooking schools.” Eight of them. Who knew the area boasted so many? “Picked up your scent at the Sassy Cupcake.” A grin pulled at the corners of his lips even if her expression didn’t budge one iota. Man, did she have resting bitch face perfected. The coolness in her eyes, the unrelenting stare, the firm compression of her lips…damn, she was hot. “Please tell me you make excellent cupcakes. I’ll happily offer myself up as a taste tester for you.”

She didn’t tap her foot. Nor did she shift her posture. Hell, she didn’t even blink. Yet the rising sense of aggression couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. The hairs on his body stood on end and his wolf quieted, effectively pinching his lips shut rather than letting him pop off with another smart remark. Yeah, sometimes his wolf knew better than he did when in the presence of a dangerous predator.

Still…Mimi wasn’t just any dangerous predator. “Look, gorgeous, I know I fucked up. I’m trailing you, trying to catch your eye. Some people might call it stalking and maybe it is…but I want to impress you so you’ll come play with me. Not piss you off so you want to kick my ass.”

Could
she kick his ass? Even as his wolf couched—whether at the stupidity of his pursuing such a particular line of inquiry or in preparation for discovery of where that thought process would take them—he couldn’t help but measure her size against his. She was smaller in stature, nearly a full head shorter than him. She had supple muscle, but sweet curves. Her eyes were huge, almost like a doll’s, and the gorgeous spill of her hair highlighted the gentle oval of her face.

Delicate. Stunning.

Blowing out a breath, he lowered his hands but kept his palms facing her. “Babe, I would be a fool to assume you’re anything but capable. I promise, I don’t plan on being a fool. Let me buy you a meal—or share one with you. Spend some time with me. I promise, I’m loads of fun and I’ll make your laughter my priority.”

“My priorities are none of your business.” Firm reprimand, but it wasn’t a rejection.

“We’re blocking traffic.” The gentle reminder lifted her gaze from him to the increased population, which included groups having to break up to go around them on the sidewalk. “So, how about we relocate to the diner for food, and you can chastise me properly.”

“You really think you’re cute, don’t you?” Wow, not even a glimmer of a smile. Her expression could be carved into stone for all the emotion seeping through.

“No,” he said, deciding to stick to his strengths with honesty and charm. “I
know
I’m cute. I also know I’m wonderful company, relatively attractive, and wildly interested in you.” Then, taking a risk with his balls, he narrowed the distance between them. “I also know you’re interested, whether you want to be or not. It’s okay to not want me, it’s okay to tell me no. I promise,” he added, putting a hand over his heart. “If you really want me to piss off and go away, tell me and I’ll stop. I really hope you don’t. You’re the best damn woman I’ve met, and your badass attitude is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He gave her a beat and, for a split second, a time so brief he could have imagined it, her gaze softened.

“Mimi,” he loved the shape of her name on his lips. “Will you put me out of my misery?”

The she-wolf shook her head slowly, and his stomach plummeted.
Damn
. “What is it with you? I’m no one special.”

Wait. That wasn’t rejection.

“Pfft. We’re all special, sweetheart.”

“Then, by that logic, none of us are.” God, who beat her with a practical stick? He’d like to knock them out with it.

“If you want to argue logic, I will have to yield.” He took a step back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Maybe she didn’t like his baggy clothes or the way he wore his hair. Who knew?

Surprise filtered through her gentling gaze, and confusion chipped through her expressionless façade. “You’re giving up?”

“On a war with logic? A competition? Sure…I won’t fight you to see you.” Anyone else was fair game. “Desire is an emotion. Interest…attraction…lust? These are all emotions. I’m not going to quantify or defend them.”

“You are a strange man, Jake Danes.” Well, point in his favor, she didn’t make it sound like a bad thing.

“Strange. Cute. Fun. Sounds like a winning combination, doesn’t it?”

“You know…it does.” She couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d leaned over to kiss him. “That said, I’m not eating in that diner. I’ve got a cottage down off Moyer and a very nice rack of lamb I can put in the crockpot or we could throw some steaks on the grill. So, let’s move our conversation there and you can continue to convince me.”

Seriously?
It took him a full minute to register the invitation.

A smile began to curve her generous mouth and all the oxygen seemed to squeeze out of his lungs. With a light hand, she patted his cheek.

“What do you know? I found a way to shut you up.”

Yes. Yes she had. Catching her hand in his, he turned her palm so he could press a kiss to the soft skin and took a deep breath of the vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon mingling with the deeper rich brew of coffee. “Thank you,” he murmured against her flesh as she met his gaze.

“I’m inviting you over for food only.” The stern manner rebuffed the intimacy of the offer.

“But you still invited me.” He could work with that.

Tugging her hand from his, she pivoted. “Let’s go, surfer boy. I can’t wait to hear what you come up with next.”

Following her eagerly, he fought the urge to whistle because he had no idea what he would manage next, but at the moment? The sheer fact she was taking him to her place for food was a lot like winning a gold medal. He’d ride on that high and let the surf carry him the rest of the way. Damn, she could move. The gentle gait of her stroll had her hips swaying.

“Stop staring at my ass,” she warned.

“Not gonna happen,” he said with a laugh then grinned wider when she glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s a nice ass.”

Yep. He really couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

W
hy did
she invite him back to her place? The question plagued her as she navigated through traffic toward the coast highway. Her rental cottage was her favorite part of living in California. It was located on a small bluff overlooking the water, and it came with its own private stretch of beach. She hadn’t taken advantage of it much, though she did like the path along the rock down to the sand. The sharp inclines were good for exercising. The sliver of beach, however, didn’t beckon to her the way the more public beaches did—likely due to the lack of proximity to food and coffee.

Just a guess.

Still, her tummy fluttered madly each time she caught sight of Jake’s van behind her in the rearview mirror. Should she have simply told him off or not invited him at all? Shaking her head, Mimi fought the urge to growl. First the strange wolf in the book shop then…wait…
Goddamit.
She slapped her hand against the steering wheel. Even more annoyed with herself than earlier, she hit the wireless control for her phone.

“Call Mitch Jackson.” The sound of ringing replaced the pop music she preferred to listen to while driving.

“Mitch,” the wolf answered on the third ring. “Hey, baby girl, how you doing?” His Jersey accent was atrocious, but it made her laugh. His intent most likely.

“I’m letting a stray follow me home,” she admitted. While most other wolves didn’t care for the Enforcers, Mimi had a different experience. Maybe it was all the time she spent with her father or Owen, but the Hunters engaged with the Enforcers regularly, exchanging information, education, and occasionally online poker. The last, however, wasn’t advertised widely.

“What kind of stray, hmm?” The playfulness in his voice seemed mildly deceptive, but Mitch didn’t fool her. She talked to Mitch enough since arriving in California, almost daily at first, then every two to three days once she settled in, that she got his laid back attitude masked severe predatory instincts.

“Jake Danes, but he’s not why I called.” No sense in pretending he didn’t know Jake. Mitch was the Enforcer for the region. He knew them all.

“No? Damn, and I was looking for a reason to kick his beach bum ass.”

“Pretty please with sugar on top?” Yep, she grinned and it helped neuter the pervasive sense of frustration welling in her gut.

“Only if you really want me to.” Mitch kept it light. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I ran into a wolf I didn’t know today in the bookstore
.” It was more than that, though. More than a stranger
. “She was…not from around here. I didn’t recognize her scent at all.” Switching lanes carefully, she kept one eye on Jake to make sure he’d tracked her motion. As soon as he slid in behind her little coop, she hit her indicator to take the next exit off the highway. Weird how she had to exit it, follow it down, then around and across to get to the road that would wind back to her place. Fortunately, they’d hit enough of a lull in the traffic that she didn’t have to fight to access the off ramp.

“Hmm…describe her to me?”

Mimi summoned an image of the woman to mind, scent markers and all. “She carried a hint of brine on her, not like the sea but like something closed up too close to the sea with a touch of tar and wood oils. For some reason, I kept thinking about a fishing boat.” She hated fishing vessels. They reeked. “Mid-thirties…which doesn’t mean much, but she didn’t seem too much older than Owen.” Sorting through the sensory detail, she tried to draw a verbal picture. “Dark eyes. Brown, I think, but she started to let her wolf show, so they were edged in gold. Dark hair, also a dirty brown, a little lanky. I think it was oily, but she had it pulled back into a severe ponytail. Full jaw, a little squared, and blunted nose. Her lips were pale, not pink but not really red, either. She had an olive skin tone, not tanned, and her eyebrows were bushy.”

“Bushy?” Mitch seemed sketchy on that detail.

“Trust me, she could have used a pluck or three…a wax would probably have left her weeping. She wasn’t unattractive, but she did not like being noticed. At all.” Everything about her had gotten Mimi’s hackles up.

“Have you seen her anywhere else?”

“No.” She would have remembered her scent, if not her face. “I started to go after her, but she vanished in the crowd.”

“Go after her?”

Warning signs flashed through her at his gentle question. “Yes, I just—I didn’t like her. She was in my space, and she shouldn’t have been.” Before he could ask her to explain, she added, “We stared at each other. She knew I was there when she waltzed in with her cloud of perfume. No wolf wears that much product unless they are trying to douse their bad decisions.”

“You picked up her other scent markers despite the perfume?” Instead of doubt, all she heard in his tone was an air of being impressed.

“Yes. The fresh air outside helped, too.” Now, for her shame. “She aggravated me. She didn’t like that I recognized her, nor did she like that I followed her. The speed at which she vanished tells me she’s an expert in making herself scarce. By itself, not a bad skill to have, but when you couple it with the perfume, the other scent markers and the fact that she showed up in an antique book shop in Coral Cove when I was there at the same time? It pissed me off and I was all but snarling in the street when I ran into Jake again.” So, the last she gave with moderate edits.

“You have good instincts, Mimi. I’m heading to Coral Cove to check it out now. Keep Jake with you for now. Don’t engage any wolves you don’t know. It could be a new Lone Wolf or a random stray from Three Rivers…”
Or one of the Russians they’d all been warned about.
She didn’t need Mitch to remind her to be cautious. “Good call, baby girl. Good call.”

“Thanks, Mitch. I’ll text Mason when I get home.”

“Okay, I’ll be in the area, and I’ll call you with anything I think you need to know.” It was the closest he would come to promising her some kind of outcome to her worries.

“I appreciate it…should I make sure Jake stays the night at the cottage?” The idea didn’t upset her as much as it should.

“He sleeps in his van, so not a bad idea at all. Let him have the hammock on your deck.” Laughter crept into his tone. “Trust me, he’ll love it, and you don’t have to listen to him snore.”

“Noted.” The call disconnected as she pulled into the shady little driveway and under the carport. It wasn’t a garage as she knew them from home, but then Monterrey didn’t get epic fucktons of snow, either.

The van rumbled to a stop behind her, neatly boxing her coop in for a moment. Jake backed it up a few feet and moved over enough to park, leaving her plenty of room to slide her tiny vehicle out. Lips curved in appreciation, she grabbed her cooking duffel and shopping bags from the backseat while he climbed out of his van.

For a moment, he stood in silence, simply surveying the cottage all tucked into the natural foliage. The people who’d owned the house before the pack arranged to purchase it for her had apparently had a love affair with landscaping. Between all the plants, with their thick, wide green leaves and the tall palm trees, it was the perfect oasis.

“You can barely see there’s a house here.” Jake commented, his gaze sweeping over all of it. From his board shorts to his t-shirt and long blond, hair, Jake was the image of a beach bum. Hell, he even had on flip flops. Disheveled appearance aside, however, he served the role of attractive wolf damn well.