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Truman Contracting LLC? It couldn’t be! Could it? The Truman boys had been in school about the same time as me and my sisters. I’d had a crush on Timothy when I was ten, but this wasn’t him. This man was too big, too dark to be the delicate blond boy I’d once known.
Didn’t Tim have a brother?
I gulped. Oh crap. Yep. He had a brother named Mitchell. And I remembered him.
Mitch Truman had been every teenage girl's dream in high school. If I remembered correctly, he’d played varsity basketball as a starter freshman year. The guys had talent. But he was one of those beautiful, popular boys. The kind who never paid attention to me.
Now, Nova, she’d had her pick of the boys at Maccon City High, but my sister was ridiculously beautiful. She never dated the Werewolves, though. None of us did. But I wasn’t a teenager, we were not in high school anymore. That meant I had options.
Wait. What?
CHAPTER TWO MITCHELL
My breath huffed out in streaming clouds, but I was far from cold in the cabin of my truck. With the beast I had inside of me, it was a wonder I didn’t fog up the windows all on my own.
“Where are you?” I mumbled to myself, checking the sides of the road as I drove carefully, looking for a broken down vehicle.
Of course, I didn’t know what I was in for when Davian Harbor called me and invited me to his little sisters’ birthday party. I vaguely remembered the girls from back in school. They’d been pretty, smart, and a few years younger than me.
It was odd to be invited to their party since we weren’t friends, but I owed the man a favor. Davian Harbor was one of those super smart computer guys, and he’d been recommended to me by a member of the Pack after our brand-new top dollar computer system ate all our files. My brother and I own and operate a construction firm, mostly renovations.
Tim studied architecture in college, as for me, I just liked to work with my hands. Anyway, our system crashed, I called Davian, and he came through for us. So, when he sent the invitation via text, I figured what the hell? I liked parties as much as the next Werewolf.
Of course, it never occurred to me when he called a second time that I’d be picking up one of the guests of honor on my way to Harbor House. Davian shared her location with me, and I frowned. The woman had gotten stuck with her car just a few miles away from the house. She could have shifted and ran home—I knew they were all Shifters, the sisters, having gone to the same school as them even if I was older.
Maybe she’d been anxious about her luggage. Or the car itself. Females always carried a ton of crap with them. But I had to admit the hoity-toity, super geek ride was not something I had expected from Martina Harbor.
Sure, I knew electric cars were the future, but what could I say, I was a throwback. I loved the classics. I’d restored my 1972 Chevy C/K and made tons of modifications towards making it more environmentally responsible, as well as comfortable for me and any guests, of whichshewas the first.
Talk about a classic. The woman was petite and curvy, with skin that looked as smooth as silk, and a creamy tan complexion I was dying to touch. There was something unusual about this she-Wolf. Oh, I knew what she was, alright, but she didn’t feel like Pack. I’d have to call one of the Wolf Guard, maybe the Pack Beta, Seff, to ask him what he knew about little Martina Harbor.
I grabbed her bags out of the trunk of that toy car she was driving, shaking my head at her choice of vehicle. Oh well. I didn’t expect her to be perfect. What was I thinking? I didn’t expect anything from her. She was a stranger. I didn’t know her from Eve—my Wolf snarled, and I froze, listening to the beast’s long, drawn out rumble.
Mine.
Fuck.
Elation warred with caution. Mine? Could this tiny, curvy, little female really be mine? It was definitely a possibility, and I was more than open to it. In fact, I had to adjust my dick in my jeans because of how open I was to the possibility that Martina Harbor and I might mean something to each other.
Grrrr.
She smelled good. Like cinnamon apples with hot honey drizzled across the top. My favorite dessert. I knew better than to tell her that. Women today didn’t like to be compared to food, but what better compliment was there than that? The fact I was already imagining licking her from head to toe was a testament to the fact I found her absolutely fucking mouthwatering. It was a wonder I didn’t need a bib.
“Cold?” I asked, noticing her shiver.
That was odd. She was a Wolf Shifter like me. She shouldn’t be cold enough to shiver unless temps went below zero. I frowned and turned the heat on, not waiting for an answer.
“Thank you,” she replied stiffly, and I grinned.
Oh, but she was a feisty one. I recalled Davian saying something about his sisters taking over the world. One was a scientist. The smart one, Nova, I recalled her name from school. One was a social worker. And another was a lawyer.
One look at little Marti Harbor and I knew which one she was. Everything about her from her expensive clothes and the top dollar luggage she carried with her said big city rich. She was no social worker. She’d been known for her razor sharp tongue back in high school, and it seemed she put it to good use.
Good for her.
Pride filled me and I couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin from spreading across my face if I tried. Seriously, for some fucking reason, I wanted to fist pump the air and give a victory shout. This little badass was doing strange things to me, and inside me my chestnut brown Wolf was simply taking it all in.
“I live on the edge of town, down Devilwood Lane,” she said and told me the directions.
