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“Excuse me?” Now Kurt was pissed. “Just because you’re a lovesick pup doesn’t mean I’m a lesser man. Plus, for the record, I don’t and never have bought into all that wolfen legend shit.”
“Who was it who said ‘wolf proverbs don’t lie?’”
“Haven’t a clue.”
“Want me to jog your memory?”
“On a hangover? No thank you.” As much as he hated to admit it, Kurt was slightly concerned. Putting his birthday behind him wasn’t what troubled him. It was the extortionist’s timing. The last few times those damn things had reared their invisible heads, they’d hit the small towns where pack members later found their mates. Randon had stumbled upon Pageant within a few hours of arriving in Pleasant when they’d tracked the last extortionist.
“All I’m saying is stay alive and look prepared. Remember what happened to me.”
“It’s called coincidence. Pageant was working the case for crying out loud. That’s all it was—a coincidence.”
“Then for your sake—seeing as you’re hell bent on remaining single forever—I hope there isn’t a blue-eyed, blonde-haired cop with a banging body waiting for you in South Carolina.”
Chapter Three
She didn’t have blonde hair or blue eyes. As for the banging body, Kurt couldn’t tell one way or another thanks to the baggy clothes she wore, but one specific thought gnawed at his gut as he walked toward the group standing near the local police station.
“It’s her,” he muttered, realizing no one was nearby to hear him. He stopped about fifteen paces or so before he reached them. He turned his face to the distant sea and scented the saltwater air. He loved running on the beach and if he were certain of time being on their side, he might have leapt into midair and taken his wolfen form.
A distance run would’ve cleared his head. Instead, he stood there observing her, watching as she placed some distance between herself and Bart. Apparently wise to his approach, she turned and watched him.
At that moment, he realized. He was cooked. Toasted.
Their gazes met and held and he quickly recalled the faded fantasies from the weeks past. He took in her high, gently sloping cheeks and her cute pug nose. Her protruding collarbone made him remember how he’d yearned to see her in his fantasies, how he’d dipped his gaze in his dreams only to have her vanish from his thoughts. She’d taunted him, haunted him in a way he simply couldn’t explain.
Now, here she was in the flesh.
She was different than he remembered. He’d been introduced to her a year or so ago and back then, she carried around a little extra weight. Her hair was much lighter, too. She’d also worn a lot of makeup, as if she were hiding from the world.
She was far more attractive without it.
Unless he’d become psychic within the last few days, there really wasn’t any sound explanation as to why he’d dreamt about her or why he immediately recognized her as Bart’s ex. He hadn’t known her name when he’d fantasized about her.
His inner wolf became agitated and there were few questions then. There had been a logical reason for his inability to put a name with her face. He now understood who she was and what she would soon mean to him.
“We’re over here!” Blaine McKinney waved as if Kurt couldn’t see the cluster fuck of individuals congregating outside the local police station.
Every step he took from that point forward was like a strategically planned stride. Still, as he walked closer to the crowd, he made up his mind. He wouldn’t stop and acknowledge her for fear if he did, he wouldn’t bother greeting the others.
“It’s about time you showed up.” Pageant’s weak smile told damning tales. They’d likely arrived in Satisfying and received the first strain of terrible news.
Kurt breezed right by Bart’s ex, but he couldn’t help but feel the flex of his nostrils. He couldn’t ignore the overwhelming aroma filling the air with a mix of lilacs and vanilla, passion and poison, a fragrance he could only dub as mate lust.
Shaking off the thought, he immediately greeted and slapped backs with Randon, Blaez, and Marcus. After he gave the fellows hell for leaving Atlanta without him, he turned to Pageant. Kissing her cheek, he asked, “Are you keeping him straight?”
Conversations riddled with questions and answers or sidebar comments didn’t faze him. He was lightheaded and not really aware of his surroundings.
She was at the forefront of his thoughts, existing in his memory as much as his current reality. Dazed and confused, he tried to remember if he’d said anything to Pageant.
“I’m trying,” Pageant replied, giving him a strange look before winking at Randon, Kurt’s best friend for most of his life. “He’s not easy to keep in line.”
Randon said, “For a fella who drank the club out of alcohol, you’re holding up pretty well.”
Blaez would’ve typically thrown in a few jabs, too. Instead, he now watched Bart and his ex. He was acting weird and he wasn’t the only one. Marcus hadn’t said much more than “hello” unless Kurt had missed something, which wasn’t farfetched given his current predicament.
“For a man who is about to find his better—”
