CRUZ

Three days. Gianna disappeared into the bayou three days ago with Luc, and it’s driving me crazy. I stare at the bayou, but the calm waters have no answers. Deliberately going into another Alpha’s territory without an explicit invitation is all kinds of fucked up. I should forget about Gianna. Luc may be hard, but he’s also a decent man. He won’t hurt Gianna, and he won’t do anything she doesn’t ask for.

Which is part of the problem.

My imagination suggests a hundred different things she can ask my rival for, all of them sexual. Sensual. Things I want to be doing to and for her. And it’s not just the bedroom stuff that has me itching to shift and find her. She’s all kinds of special, and I have no problem imagining us living happily ever after at my place in Port Leon. My house isn’t much of a home yet, but Gianna can fix that.

I could find her. I might not have visited the Breaux compound before—the whole Alpha thing again—but I can find them. My brothers are excellent trackers, and I’m better than all of them. Wherever Gianna is in the bayou, I’ll find her. A quick nighttime B&E on the inn, and I have her pillowcase.  Asking might be better behavior for the town’s sheriff and Alpha, but explaining is the last thing I want to do. I run a thumb over the pillowcase tucked inside my jacket pocket. It’s nothing kinky, although honestly I’d trade a kidney for a pair of her panties. I caught teasing glimpses of a lacy bra beneath her pink dress at the wedding, the pale shadow of a strap over her shoulder and the delicate hollow of her collarbone. That became my fantasy fodder, and that’s pathetic.

But what the hell can I do? As far as werewolf rules go, Luc is well within his rights to carry her off. His damned blue moon lit her up as his mate, and moon or no moon, he clearly feels the pull. I don’t put much stock in lunar phenomena myself, but Gianna agreed to go. Whatever chemistry she feels, whatever happened between them before, she wants to explore it further.

She said yes.

To Luc.

Which leaves me staring at the bayou like a hound dog, if I’m being honest with myself. Giving up isn’t in my vocabulary. Of course, neither is patience. Gianna offered me a week of my own. Yeah. I hug that thought to myself, knowing I’m grinning like I just won a cool twenty million in the state lottery. Luc may be first, but I plan on being last.

I could check up on her. I have updates on the Breed, and I managed to get a man into the pack. I bet she’d want that information sooner rather than later. Never mind that I could pick up a phone or mail a fucking postcard. Bringing her the news myself works too. A quick hello that will remind her I exist.

Boots crunch toward me. Eli. Eli may be my youngest brother, but he’s no pushover. Although Jace is my second, Eli is every bit as tough although he comes in a pretty package. He likes the females, my brother does, and they like him right back. Even our sister Riley has a soft spot for Eli and a disgusting inability to say no to him. Maybe it’s the honey-colored hair tangled around his shoulders or the brown eyes that like to laugh. Eli’s a fucking gorgeous male, but with an inner steel people often overlook. He likes his playtime, but he’s as much a fighter as I am. He can turn the fun off in a heartbeat.

Which probably means this isn’t a social call. Eli stares at the bayou for a moment, following my gaze.  “I’m not seein’ it. Whatever’s got you goin’, color me clueless.”

Yeah, because the object of my fixation is a good twenty, thirty miles away doing things I have no desire to see. In no scenario can I imagine Luc keeping his hands off Gianna’s sweet body. Hell. I’ve only been hands-off myself because we’ve barely met and I wanted to respect her professional boundaries. Gianna’s job matters to her and she’s damned good at it. Kissing her in front of our colleagues would disrespect all that.

Out here in the bayou, though, away from Baton Rouge and her law firm… yeah. I should have made my move.

“Earth to Cruz,” my brother says wryly. “Who is she?”

I love my family. I’d take a bullet, trade my life for theirs any day of the week. What I don’t like, however, is the uncanny way they can read my fucking moods.

My brother digs an elbow into my side. “Give it up. The last female I spotted you with was that expensive lawyer from Baton Rouge. Riley really likes the candlesticks she gave for the wedding. Says they’re French. You have any idea what that means?”

Nope. I’m a clueless bastard, and not just about candlesticks.

I clear my throat. “Probably female for expensive or really, really fucking fragile.”

“Should have thought of that yourself,” my brother suggests, laughing. I know Eli picked out a gift himself. I heard Riley exclaiming over the dinner dishes made by a local potter. Eli put plenty of thought into the gift, even if he pretends otherwise.

“So who did you meet at the wedding that has you in knots? I didn’t think there were any unattached females there.”

And… there’s the problem. I wait patiently while my brother barrels toward the correct conclusion and shuts the fuck up. Briefly.

“Tell me you’re not wantin’ Gianna.”

“Too late.”

“You are aware, right, that Luc Breaux has claimed her as his mate? He says she’s his blue moon bride.”

“I know,” I say tightly.

“And you didn’t back the hell off? Does she know how you feel? Does Luc? Jesus. That’s the kind of thing that causes pack wars.”

“Only if I act on it,” I point out.

Eli shoots me a look. “You’re starin’ out into that bayou like it swallowed up something pretty damn special. You just admirin’ the scenery?”

“She promised Luc a week.”

My brother groans. “I’m hearin’ a but. Tell me you said okay and walked away.”

“Not a but. An and. And she promised me a week.”

“You’re spending a week with another Alpha’s mate?” Eli shakes his head. “You’ve got a death wish. Worse, Luc Breaux might come gunnin’ for us. Riley may have married into his pack, but I don’ think he’s goin’ to cut you any slack for that.”

Those words make me want to get up into my brother’s face, the urge for a fistfight paramount. Or I could go for wrestling. The kind of shit we used to do when we were pups, but that I stopped when I became the family’s leader. Since it’s not okay for my brothers to whale back on me, I won’t put them in the position. Now I’m rethinking.

“I don’ wan’ any favors from him, and Gianna isn’t a pass-around.”

“She’s his mate.”

“So he says.”

And that’s it, isn’t it? The million-dollar question. Luc may claim Gianna—but does she claim him? If she does, it’s game over. I won’t stand between mates. I’ll bow out, wish them well, and somehow figure out a way to fix my heart. If she’s still unsure, however… if I have a shot… I’ll take it.

Eli gets right to the heart of the matter. “You think she’s yours?”

“Dad always said that when you see the one, you know.”

“There are books about love at first sight. They have racks and racks of the stuff at Walmart. Just because someone says it, doesn’t mean it’s true. None of us have bitten in the heart department, let alone after five minutes of looking. It’ll take more for me.”

Tension fills the air between us. My little brother isn’t one for settling down—or putting the pack at risk.

“This is between Luc, Gianna, and me,” I say. “It’s not pack business.”

“You are the pack. You’re our Alpha.”

It’s true—and the only reason I didn’t fight Luc for Gianna at the wedding. Okay, that and the fact that Gianna would have kicked both our asses. She stands on her own two feet, and I won’t disrespect her strength.

“Think it over,” Eli says quietly. “And be really sure, okay? If she’s the one for you, I got your back. You know that. But if you’ve got any doubts, shelve it for a while. Wait and see how things work out for her and Luc before you go rocking the marital boat. She’s a pretty woman. Smart. Maybe it’s nothing more than that and you don’ have to go gettin’ tangled up with her.”

“I’ve got some time off,” I say. “I’ve got gas in my boat and the truck.”

“Shit. You’re really goin’ after her.”

“I have to.”

And that’s the truth. I’ll likely get out there and discover her and Luc going at it like bunnies, and not the fluffy kind either. And I also mean what I thought before.

Her life. Her heart. Her choice.

I just need to be in the running.

GIANNA

I pad out onto the porch. The past three days and nights have passed in a sensual blur. I work the kinks out of my body, feeling the delicious sore spots deep inside and the whisker burn on my skin. Luc marked me inside and out. Part of me can’t wait to turn around and head back inside for round whatever we’re on. Ten? Forty? The man is insatiable.

I really should keep right on walking, borrow his boat, and gun the motor for Port Leon. Unfortunately I apparently tossed prudence out the window along with my panties and my restraint. Luc’s brand of loving is intense, the kind that makes my knees wobbly and standing difficult. Now that we’ve come up for air, a small part of me worries that he’ll consume me.

He calls me his mate.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m not averse to settling down, although I certainly didn’t plan on doing it with a werewolf.

Right on cue, since we’ve been parted approximately five minutes now, Luc follows me out onto the porch and hands me a cup of coffee. I tell myself the coffee is the only reason I don’t head for the dock. That and my promise. Technically I owe the man four more nights. I lean back against him, wrapping my hands around the mug. Simple things count too.

He stiffens suddenly, pulling away from me. “Go back inside.”

Um. No. It’s daylight, so I’m definitely not in the taking orders business. I take another a long sip from my mug. Funny how he makes better coffee than I do. The rich notes of chicory explode on my taste buds.

“Sun’s up,” I remind him, more to needle than anything. “Sorry, but you’re out of the order-giving business for at least another eight hours.”

A wolf streaks past us from one of the houseboats, moving in a deadly blur. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around the reality of shape-shifters. It’s easier to accept out here in the bayou, however, where everything is already so different from my life in Baton Rouge. Still, how do I come to terms with the fact that my lover’s brothers turn furry and four legged whenever they feel like it? Plus, the Breauxs apparently live at DEFCON two.

The reason for the hostility emerges from the low-hanging brush. An enormous brindle wolf steps into the clear space and stops. The animal is even larger than the ones that attacked me earlier in the week. It has to be pushing two hundred pounds.

Luc curses. “I’m goin’ to kill him.”

“You know him?” You sure about that? How does he tell one wolf from another?

“That’s Cruz,” Luc growls. The Breaux wolf places itself between the intruder and the camp, growling. “He knows better than to come on out here without an invitation. I don’ piss all over his territory, and he returns the favor.”

God, I do not want to know if Luc means that literally or not.

“You can’t kill him,” I say instead, although I’m pretty certain Luc can. Aggression radiates off him.

“Maybe, if you don’ wan’ me killin’ him, you should trade me that week of his. I’ll take it. He can live.” Savage satisfaction fills his voice.

“No can do.”

“Then I’ll keep your request in mind and see what I can do.” Luc vaults over the porch, bare feet slamming into the bank at a run.

And… that’s a conversation killer. I’m not dressed for giving chase. When I finally rolled out of bed—and Luc let me go, laughing—I pulled on the first things I found in my suitcase. That leaves me standing on Luc’s porch sporting a fringed kimono, a tank top and cotton shorts. I’d planned on a weekend at a B&B—not a backwater bayou retreat.

“No killing,” I holler just in case Luc reconsiders his stance on killing Cruz.

The wolf hasn’t moved from the edge of the clearing. Is he expecting an engraved invitation? Is there an Emily Post book for werewolf etiquette? Naturally Luc ignores my demand and stalks toward the intruder.

“You better have a damned good reason for being here, Jones.”

Luc gets right up in the wolf’s face, close enough that his thighs practically slam into the wolf’s sides. The wolf bares its teeth, growling. Fuck, what is it with men and their testosterone? Out of options, I hurl my coffee mug at the pair. Stupid. I’m not done, and Luc doesn’t like being challenged. The mug falls short by yards, but the crash is satisfying.

“You got a point to make, shug?” Luc drawls, not turning around.

“Bring him here, you moron.” Clearly there’s no point in repeating my no killing manifesto.

Luc glares at the wolf. “You heard the lady. Shift,” he snaps.

And… Cruz shifts. If you asked me, I couldn’t describe how it happens. Just that the wolf’s fur melts and flows away, revealing bare skin. Lots and lots of very male, very naked skin. Sweet baby Jesus, but Cruz is a spectacular man. I’ve tried hard not to imagine what he looks like when he shucks his uniform, but now I know. Six-plus feet of cut Cajun. It’s a good day in the bayou.

Luc sighs, like somehow all that yummy nakedness is my fault. “Stop staring and get the man some pants.”

I debate reminding him that orders are off limits until sunset, but Luc looks like he’s been pushed far enough for the morning. I go inside, grab a pair of jeans from Luc’s wardrobe, and stalk back out. I throw the pants at Cruz, who catches them one-handed. Don’t look below the neck.

Nope. So much for my good intentions. The gleam in the man’s eyes says he knows I cheated too. But, good Lord, the man is hung. How am I not to notice?

“Pants are my limit. I’m not bringing you coffee,” I announce, dropping back into my seat.

“You wan’ explain why you’re out here?” Luc sits down next to me, his thigh crowding mine, his arm curved possessively around my shoulders. If I were a tree, a pissing contest would be next.

Cruz ignores Luc entirely as he pulls on the borrowed jeans. “How are you, boo?”

“I’m fine.” Really? He’s come out and started World War III just to ask me how I feel? What does he think I’ve been doing?

“You wan’ to kiss her hello too?”

“Don’ mind if I do.” Cruz strolls over and drops a kiss on my cheek. Then he leans against my chair and proceeds to give us both an update on the Breed. Unfortunately there aren’t too many new details. My law firm has received a new death threat on my behalf. Cruz has gotten a man inside the Baton Rouge pack, who is working on identifying the wolf who called the hit on me. But other than that… he has a whole lot of nothing.

Which begs the question of why he’s come out here.

Luc apparently comes to the same conclusion. “I’ve got a phone.”

“And I felt like seein’ how Gianna was doin’,” Cruz counters.

Well, shit. That’s blunt. Worse, an unexpected happiness beats through my veins. I like being sandwiched between the two of them, having them both here on the porch with me. The only thing better would be if the three of us had just come from the bedroom together.

“Fuck.” Luc looks between me and Cruz. “If you want him, take him.”

Has he developed mind-reader abilities? Are my thoughts that obvious?

“You mean it?” I hope my face isn’t lighting up like a kid in a candy shop at the possibility of having both of them with me in bed.

“Your body. Your bed.” I can’t tell what Luc’s thinking or how he really feels about possibly sharing my body with Cruz. It’s just a fantasy, I tell myself. Not necessarily anything more. If Luc is okay with it…

I look up at Cruz. “Are you in?”