Allister, J. Rose - Disowned Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (15 page)

“What about the reason I came here in the first place?” Kyle asked.

“Right. You said you thought your
partner
might be here.” She folded her arms tight across the low-cut front of her dress, then thought better of it when both men’s eyes dropped to the cleavage her action had unwittingly pushed up. “‘Partner’ is an interesting choice of words, considering that last I heard, you were busy running off with your other friends.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “That couldn’t be helped. And now he’s not where he outta be tonight.” He paused with a glance upward, as though he could see the high full moon rising through the pebbled texture of her ceiling. “I’m worried somethin’ might have happened.”

“Maybe he’s tired of being treated like an outcast lone wolf.” Her eyes shifted to David, who was staring at her with a curious scowl.

“Or he’s wanderin’ the mountain,” Kyle said. “Where hunters are waggin’ pistols at wild animals every which way.”

A pang of fear shot through her at the image, but she pressed her lips together tight. There was nothing she could say, let alone do, with David standing over her like a looming tower of testosterone.

“Pistols?” David said with a sarcastic air. “Hunters use shotguns. And there isn’t any hunting in Shay Falls.”

“Oh, yes there is,” Aimee said. “I saw a woman with a gun in her hand, chasing down the wolf that almost attacked me.”

“They issue hunting permits now to deal with the wolf issue?”

Her brows shot up. “What do you know about a wolf issue?”

He shrugged. “Everyone who hangs around Shay Falls enough knows there’s a higher wolf population than normal the past several years.”

“Huntin’s still not permitted legally,” Kyle said, turning to Aimee. “But property owners shoot wolves caught tryin’ to poach on their property. The huntress chases wolves from the wild pack we mentioned to you, though others occasionally get caught in the crossfire.”

They exchanged a weighted glance. The redhead was hunting Dillon’s old pack. Could werewolves even be killed with a bullet?

“And all cowboys chase are pretty skirts,” David said. “Too bad this one’s taken.”

She rolled her eyes. “
This
one has had enough male posturing today to last me a lifetime,” she fired back. “I won’t tell you two again to get out of here.”

The air thickened with awkward tension as David jerked on his jacket. Kyle snatched up his hat and used both hands to tug it onto his head. She followed the men to the door and watched them file out, David lingering behind.

Kyle’s boot steps clicked along the main walkway to the visitor parking area. Her eyes flicked to the full moon hanging low and bright in the sky, and she called out to him before she could stop herself. “Kyle?”

Both men turned, and somehow David’s expression managed to be more perilous. She paused at Kyle’s furtive glance, then said, “I hope you find him.”

He gave a curt nod.

“We
will
talk about this tomorrow,” David said, jabbing a finger her way. “You may not be ready to give me an answer, but I want it clear that the question will no longer be on the table if you see either of these hicks again.”

Her stomach knotted into a ball. “Is that a threat involving your proposal, or my job?”

His expression tightened. “Be fair, Aimee. Your job will never be in question for as long as you need it. But ask yourself just how much
extra
help I should be expected to continue if this is the way you choose to treat me.”

He spun on his heel and stalked off, all but pushing Kyle aside. Kyle stood there, wearing an expression that read more
I told you so
than she would have liked. She was already shutting the door when he, too, turned and disappeared into the moonlit night that somewhere held Dillon tight in a solitary, primal grip.

Chapter Six

Sleep would not come for Aimee that night, even though exhaustion from the weekend’s events seeped into her very marrow. Unrelenting rays of the full moon shone through her bedroom curtains, transforming their muted green color into a pale jade. She flipped over, turning away from the light, but still felt the moon’s energy on her back as keenly as though she were lying under the tanning rays of summer.

How did the cowboys experience the power of that moon? Did the odd vibration she felt tingle beneath their skin, stimulating the change? Did it burn inside of them like mystical fire? Had Kyle given into that power in order use his wolf senses to track down Dillon?

A stab of guilt accompanied the thought of Dillon, and an image of his maddeningly sexy smile and reach-into-her-soul eyes flashed in front of her. That seductive grin had been replaced by a look of hard finality when she’d rejected him in the bar parking lot. He said he wasn’t good enough for her, that he had nothing to offer but himself. Is that why he never returned to the cave? Had he not wanted to be someplace where she might find him again? With Aimee refusing him and Kyle forced to spend the bulk of his existence with another pack, maybe Dillon decided it wasn’t worth bothering to chain up his nature. Maybe he’d decided to embrace it again instead.

Her eyes found the bedside clock, which read almost 1:00 a.m. Aimee pushed herself upright and rubbed her bleary eyes while she slid out of bed, pushing into a pair of blue slippers on the way. The silken fabric of her sleep chemise brushed against her thighs while she wandered over to the window. She parted the curtains with her upper body and peered at the huge ball of glowing white moon that was framed perfectly in the sky. The moon held such beauty and brilliance, overwhelming the planet with its power. What other secrets did the moon hold in its grip?

Movement caught her eye near the ground. Her window looked out over the street, and standing on the far side was a sight that caught her breath.

“Dillon,” she whispered.

The wolf stood between a pair of compact bushes, watching her. Even in the dark and mostly hidden by the hedge, she could tell that it wasn’t Kyle’s pure-black wolf. There was something in that wild, pensive stare that told her otherwise. How had he found her? Surely even a clever wolf didn’t have the manual dexterity necessary to look her up in a phone book.

His majestic head turned this way and that, as if scanning the road for anyone who would be even more alarmed than Aimee at the appearance of a wolf in the small city. Then he started forward, moving with slow caution and his tongue hanging out. She froze, wondering what he expected from her. He had no control over his wolf nature under this moon, and she couldn’t converse with him like this. Nor did she have any intention of letting him inside her apartment, and not only because of the
no pets
rule. He might appear to be calm and resolute right now, but who knew how wild his nature might become?

The wolf paused, seeming to pick up on her hesitation. He sat down on his haunches right in the middle of the deserted street, curling his tail around him while he looked straight at her. She swallowed and gazed back, unsure what to do. Dillon raised his head, exposing the creamy fur along his throat, and let out a piercing howl that prickled the hair on Aimee’s bare arms.

“Like that will keep you low profile in the city,” she muttered under her breath, but the howl was forgotten moments later when she saw a startling sight.

A truck was coming.

“Dillon, look out!” Aimee called through the window, pointing.

His head turned slowly toward the oncoming vehicle, then back around to her again.

“Jesus, what is he doing?” Her fingernails dug into the flesh of her upper arms as he just sat there.

The truck bore down on him, but Dillon just sat there. She banged on the window and shouted to him. “Hurry up, Dillon.
Move!
”

A flash of motion followed as another furry canine body leapt out of nowhere and tackled Dillon. The push shoved Dillon out of the way in time to avoid the truck, but the same could not be said for his animal rescuer. The other wolf got clipped by the front fender just as the truck whizzed by. The driver kept right on going, either unaware or uncaring. The body hit the ground rolling as a black wolf, then stopped at the far curb as a naked blond man.

“Kyle!” Aimee shouted.

She was running out the front door even before she’d fully realized she’d turned away from the horrifying scene at the window. Her heart beat frantically while her slippers scuffed along the ground at a full run. Once she raced around to the front walk, she saw that Dillon had phased back and knelt over an unconscious Kyle, who was sprawled on his back in the gutter.

“Oh, my God,” she said when she saw the bloody scrapes all over his body. A cut over his eyebrow flowed more blood into his fine, blond hair.

Dillon’s head snapped up to her. “Let’s get him inside before anyone sees.”

“Shouldn’t he go to a hospital?”

“Weres don’t go to hospitals.”

With that he rose and scooped the man into his arms. She blinked at Dillon’s raw power but simply nodded and followed him as he strode off the way she’d come.

“What were you thinkin’, Kyle?” he said as they rounded the bend to her apartment.

“What was he thinking?” she spat back. “What were
you
thinking? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

He flicked a glance at her. “I’m an immortal, darlin’. We’re a tough bunch to kill.”

Her eyes fell pointedly to the man in his arms. “But not tough to injure, apparently.” She opened the door and let him pass. “You can take him straight back to the bedroom and lay him on my bed. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. It’s not going to be enough, though. That cut on his head needs stitches. And what if there are internal injuries?”

“Cowboys are tough, and werewolves are tougher. He’ll heal fast.” His breath came in forceful puffs while he made his way up the hall to her room. “There are only three things he’ll need to fix him up right.”

Once inside the bedroom, Dillon laid Kyle on the bed and sat down beside him. While her eyes made another tour of Kyle’s injuries, she couldn’t avoid noticing the cocks hanging between their thighs. The last thing she should be thinking about was having two naked men on her bed, let alone a far different scenario that involved stripping off her nightgown and climbing in between them. What a time for her libido to chip in two inappropriate cents.

Dillon slapped at his alpha’s cheek. “Come on, partner. Wake up. I don’t want to have to hold your entire weight up in the shower.”

“Shower?” She came up behind him, wringing her clammy hands together. “Isn’t hygiene the last thing he should be worried about?”

Dillon shot a look over his shoulder. “Darlin’, if you’re gonna be around wolves, then you’ll find that we have three pressin’ needs that help us when we’re sick, hurt, or under the sway of the full moon.”

“And those are?”

“A hot shower, a raw feed, and good, rough sex. Not always in that order, and sometimes combined.”

The third option rung loudly through her head, and she shook it off. “He’s hardly in any kind of shape for even one of those things to help.”

“You’d be surprised.”

A groan left Kyle’s throat, and Dillon turned to sit on the bed beside him. “That’s it, Kyle. Come on back.”

The man’s eyes fluttered open, though they appeared a bit unfocused. “You’re human,” he muttered weakly.

Dillon snorted. “Human? You must have hit your head harder than I thought.”

“Kyle?” Aimee rushed to the opposite side of the bed and leaned over him. “How do you feel?”

His head rolled slowly toward her. “Like I tried to shove some idiot out of the way of a truck.”

“Why the hell did you do it?” Dillon asked. “I wasn’t in danger.”