Goal: A Mate (Bachelor Auction #2) (2 page)

“We have five thousand! Any other takers? Blanca?” Pause. “Going once. Twice. Sold to the lady in red!”

Energy shuddered up and down Brandon’s legs and arms, filling his chest as his heart hammered against his rib cage. Kelly had won it. She’d kept her promise. He wanted to do a fist pump or rush down the steps at the end of the walkway to wrap Kelly up in an embrace. Instead, he allowed the announcer to usher him back behind the curtain. Heart pounding, elation filling his veins, he brushed past the throng of athletes, male models, and other bachelors to the refreshments table. People patted him on the back as he went.

It had been relatively painless after all. Moisture coated his face and chest. He wiped it away and unbuttoned his shirt a few notches. The material stuck to him at the armpits and pectoral area. He plucked at his shirtfront, letting puffs of air cool him off. His wolf sat sedate and quiet. Now for that date. He’d been planning the ideal outing with Kelly since he’d been a teenager, alone in his room, wanking off to scenarios he thought could never happen in his lifetime. She was pack royalty, and he was a skinny slip of nothing, obsessed with hockey, comic books, and video games, things he was sure would bore the crap out of her and send her running for the hills. He’d been wrong about most of it. They’d had more in common than he could have hoped for.

A pat on his recovering shoulder jerked out him out of his reverie and landed him straight in the land of discomfort. Anger surged hot and bitter to the forefront of his mind, bathing his vision in red. What kind of motherfucker would dare touch him on so tender a spot?

Alberto, pack prince of the Ivory Claw pack. His former hockey rival who’d left the sport to take up tennis. The asshole patted him on the shoulder again, setting off a shockwave of pain jittering up and down his arm.

“Good job, Scott! And a sexy woman to boot. You never know with these things. Was that Kelly Maxwell, pack princess of the Scythe Moon wolves? Nice and curvy, too.” The man’s brown eyes sparkled with mirth and his bright white teeth glimmered in the overhead lights.

Brandon’s wolf growled. He struggled to ignore the animal and his instinct to beat the shit of the guy. “Yeah. Lucky, I guess,” he gritted out, eyes watering as the ache subsided to a dull throb.

“Like that chip shot you took in that shootout before you hurt your shoulder?” Something passed through Alberto’s eyes, something that Brandon couldn’t name. He would have almost called it admiration, but that wasn’t like Alberto. The asshole wanted something, he was sure of that.

Brandon opened his mouth to tell his fellow werewolf where to go.

Pierce McKinney joined them. “Hey, Brandon, can I talk to you about the meeting later this month? I’ve got a few ideas for the new hockey league.” Pierce nodded his head toward an empty corner of the room and then grabbed Brandon’s wrist.

Brandon allowed the tiger shifter to pull him away.

Once they were far enough away, Pierce released him. “Don’t let him get to you. He knows you’re close to Kelly and he’s been sniffing after her since I’ve been in town.”

Pierce’s pale blue eyes bored into him. Brandon sighed. “You know, don’t you?”

“Your pheromones are a bit pungent. And besides, your face when she won you…?” Pierce’s eyes sparkled with amusement and a hint of sadness. “Got my own woman issues. Just keep calm, OK? Last thing Kelly wants is to bail your stupid arse out. We’ll talk later about the hockey league, yeah?”

Brandon had known that Alberto had been hovering in Kelly’s presence, but the man didn’t seem to be making any romantic overtures as far as he’d heard. He wasn’t sure what Alberto’s plan was, nor did he buy his interest in Kelly, but as long as the other wolf stayed out of his way all would be well. He had no desire to be arrested by Lt. Alistair Marshall-Weiss for beating the shit out of Alberto. Instead he headed for the exit.

No one stopped him, so Brandon kept going until he hit the hallway that led to the entrance of the building. He found Kelly standing with his sister Eireen near a refreshment table. Both held champagne flutes in one hand, their cell phones pressed to their ears.

Just the sight of Kelly caused Brandon’s tension to ebb away until he was on a warm cloud. Alberto didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He smiled and exhaled as his gaze ate up all five feet four inches of her in her killer red heels. A sexy, intelligent woman with a generous heart. He couldn’t picture his life without her. She was his mate, his soul, his universe. His heart clenched. His wolf rose with a whimper. The shift tried to find traction. His lupine counterpart wanted out to brush up against her, mark her with his scent, fuck her senseless, and most of all, keep her safe.

Brandon’s gaze brushed over her form, admiring her choice of clothing for the night. The tight red dress highlighted every curve of her voluptuous body. The small dip in the neckline gave him a glimpse of cleavage. Her platform pumps with slim heels showed off her toned legs while the hemline kissed the tops of her knees. He wanted to lift the skirt and see what was or wasn’t underneath.

This auction could have ended with him having to go on a date with Blanca or one of her drones. Talking to those women was like trying to converse with a bag of burned hair.

Kelly glanced up in his direction, worry on her face. Brandon frowned and glanced over at his sister. Reenie had been excited about bidding on some “prime pack meat” as she put it, but all her exuberance seemed to have bled out of her. Her bright blue eyes, so like his, were stormy, dark, and angry.

Kelly’s features were scrunched, confused, and worried. She bit her bottom lip and her hand clenched and relaxed as she held her phone.

What could be wrong? Was it her father, Martin, their alpha? Was it his parents? Did something happen to Jazz or her business? Did some shithead ruin the building? Fearing the worst, Brandon moved closer to hear what was going on.

“Well, get them there! We needed those uniforms yesterday,” Eireen barked into her cell. She tugged a lock of hair and pressed her lips together. “What do you mean the truck is stuck in Albuquerque? It was supposed to be here by now. We open in a week.” She clenched her teeth and a muscle ticked in her jaw.

“What—?” Brandon stepped forward. Bile swished around in his stomach and worry fisted his heart.

“Not now, Brandon,” Eireen snapped. Her blue eyes turned golden for a second, as her wolf peeked out in her anger.

“The uniforms for our employees are stuck in New Mexico,” Kelly explained, “and management isn’t in the office. We can’t have our people go into all those mansions and estates in their street clothes. Plus, the alarm is going off at the office, but the police report that there is no prowler and no one is inside. I’ve been put on hold,
again
. I have to go into the office and see if the elvish tailors are open. Maybe I can convince them to give us a discount on a rush job. A free year of cleaning might do it.”

“I’m coming with,” announced Eireen. “This is a bust anyway. Maybe I can pull some strings from my end with a few stores in some nearby towns. Later little bro.” Eireen followed her boss and best friend toward the front doors.

Brandon went after them, wanting to help. He felt a need to do something to aid his mate and soothe her stress.

Eireen turned on her heel just as Brandon reached them. He crashed straight into her and only her hold on his arms kept him from falling down. Despite their difference in size, she kept him on his feet. “Stay here. We don’t need you puttering around like a lovesick wolf,” she hissed. “Unless you can pull ten uniforms out of her your ass? No? Then stay, Booboo.”

“Booboo? What the fuck?” He shook his head and ignored the insult. “Look, I won’t get in the way. Just let me help you. Maybe I can make a few calls to people I know?” Brandon hated how high and whiney he sounded. He was brought back to my teenage years, begging Reenie to take him along so he could spend more time with Kelly. He ignored those thoughts and turned to the task at hand—finding people who could help. His mind rolled through all the professionals he’d encountered who could do wonders with damaged uniforms.

“I know everyone you know, ’member? You introduced me to them? I have their numbers. Go plan your date, play video games, watch porn or whatever. Just don’t tell me. She’ll be fine.” Eireen ushered him back toward the party. He glanced over his shoulder. The sight of happy couples in evening dress only dampened his enthusiasm for mixing with his fellow athletes.

“Goddess, do you have to be so damn crass? I know Kelly will be fine. I just wanted to help. I’ll head home, but you have to promise”—he paused and pointed at her—“to call if you need anything. Even late-night pizza and coffee runs.”

Eireen let out a huff of air. The scent of strawberries and champagne drifted off her, mingling with the cologne, perfume, and hormones swirling about the room. The stench turned his stomach. He would’ve preferred to have been curled up in a booth somewhere with Kelly, eating a late dinner of burgers and fries, basking in her presence. Call it infatuation or puppy love, it didn’t matter. Kelly was his mate, and if he couldn’t be where she was, he didn’t want to be anywhere at all. Home it was.

“Stop waiting for her,” Eireen said, her tone hard. Her cobalt-blue eyes flashed with an emotion that Brandon couldn’t name.

“Not waiting, biding my time. Don’t you have to help salvage the uniform mess?” He hoped this would spur his sister on.

“Yeah, yeah, I do…I just… I’ll call later.” Eireen swung back around, pushed open the door, and followed Kelly out into the night.

He wondered what in the world was going on with Eireen. Lately she’d been secretive, disappearing when he needed her, always busy. But it had nothing to do with her business, Pack Princess Maid Service, or as she liked to call it, PPMS. Once things with Kelly were settled he’d find out what was going on with his sister.

Through the glass doors, he could see Kelly standing at the curb, waiting for the valet to pull up with her car. Her back was to him. Under the bright, white lights her red dress glittered, and her curves weren’t hidden by the business jackets and sweaters she usually wore. Heat flared low in Brandon’s groin as arousal welled up inside of him. His blood thickened and his cock pressed against the front of his pants. What was one more night without his mate? She’d be his soon enough.

He waited a few minutes before he left the soiree. As he’d told Reenie, there was nothing back there for him. Besides, he needed to do some stretches for his shoulder; otherwise, his physical therapist would give him hell for neglecting his recovery regimen.

Chapter Two

Kelly climbed into bed and snuggled under the covers. Her eyelids were heavy. After several hours of pleading, promises, and negotiations, they had found a tailor who could deal with an emergency order and get it to them ASAP. After that it was a question of calling their other suppliers to make sure things were on track. By the time she got home, it was close to three-thirty in the morning. She’d only had enough energy to drop her bag, kick off her heels, and unzip her dress before heading off to sleepland. She yawned and shut her eyes.

Brandon. His named drifted into her head as the darkness took her.

He’d come to her after midnight, long after the auction had ended, and she’d gotten home exhausted and in need of some wine. She’d changed into a cozy sweater and yoga pants, ready to check out what was on the DVR when the doorbell rang. There he was, top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, black jacket off and black slacks a bit wrinkled. He had the devil in his cobalt-blue eyes. His wavy, chestnut-brown hair was a mess, falling over his brow giving him a bad-boy look. A sexy smile curled his sensual lips.

He held up a bottle of Fireball Whiskey. “I think we both need this.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, he brushed past her, body leaving no space between them. The warmth of him sparked off of her. Her nipples tightened, heat poured into her sex, and her clit hardened. All thoughts stalled as she inhaled the spicy, woodsy scent that held a hint of the wolf. That cologne haunted her day and night. She wanted to press herself against him, feel of his heat and strength inside of her, surrounding her. A whimper clawed up her throat trying to slip out past her lips.

But Brandon was off limits. She’d been telling herself that all her life. They were just friends. He was her best friend’s little brother, for gods’ sake!

But she was in the presence of her mate. Her wolf wanted to claim and be claimed by him. In the wolf’s opinion, this farce had gone on for far too long. They were both in their thirties. He was retired, and even though he’d still be on the road, he’d given every indication that he was settling down in Pines Ville. The wolf didn’t want to waste anymore time. Why wait?

When she turned around, he was already on the couch, two shot glasses at the ready filled with amber liquid, his arm draped on the back of the chair with ease, as if he’d been there a thousand times and belonged there. The wolf whimpered. Why indeed?

None of her excuses mattered. He looked so good settled there. More importantly, he made her feel comfortable. There were no nerves, no protests, just a yearning to be near him always.

“Join me?” The two words were spoken in that rough bass tone that sent tingles racing up and down her arms and legs and caused her belly to flip while her pussy clenched and moisture dampened her panties. He raised a thick brow in question. “Problem?”

She shivered and her nipples tightened further. Feeble protests manifested again. This was Reenie’s baby brother. He was younger than she was. They were childhood friends.

Each argument fell apart at the bright smile he gave her. “Feeling shy? Let me help you.”

He rose with the silken grace. Kelly’s breath stalled once more as he strode toward her, each step echoing around the quiet room. Every move reflected her heartbeat. When he’d been playing pro hockey, his away games had always left a hole in her that nothing could fill. Only his phone calls, emails, and Skype sessions made his absence bearable. Now he was here, in front of her. Who knew what could happen?