“Rhett’s going to kill me,” Jack muttered as he approached the corral. And that couldn’t possibly have been a whine he’d just heard.
He was being a fool, and he knew it, yet he couldn’t turn away. His heart pounded and fear made his spine itch, his breath short, but even so, he had to see the wolf or coyote—he wasn’t sure which—that had been sneaking across the corral.
“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna be eaten by the big bad wolf,” Jack continued, his voice shaking slightly. He glanced at the baseball bat in his left hand and winced. He really was an idiot, and one that would likely regret his refusal to grab a rifle before stepping outside.
He should have stayed in the house, munching on the chocolate candies he’d picked up when he and Rhett had gone to get groceries the day after the run-in with Ben.
Ben. Jack couldn’t get the man off his mind. He’d been thinking about Ben while fixing a Crock-Pot roast for dinner later when all the commotion started outside.
Jack paused, some semblance of common sense gripping him. “What the hell am I doing? Chaos. Today is made of chaos and crazy!”
The day had started out normal enough. Then there’d been panicked cattle and shouting about a rabid wolf or coyote or coywolf—Jack hadn’t caught all of that part.
And Rhett had ordered Jack to stay inside, which was annoying as fuck. Like Jack was a delicate flower in need of protecting. Irked as he’d been, he hadn’t argued with his brother.
Rhett had been working harder than ever since he’d fired the two bigoted hands, Aldan and Vince. He’d found one new hire, Javon Eddings, but still needed another hand besides Javon, Ernesto, Phil, and Jerry.
That, or he needed to make at least two of those guys full-time employees. Jack was planning on going over the account books to see if that was possible.
Jack shook his head. “What is wrong with me, seriously?” He eyed the bat again. “Like this is going to help against a rabid animal?”
Despite his attempt at being logical, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, and he was headed to the corral again. “Please don’t bite me. Please don’t kill me, either. Just, please don’t hurt me.” He kept repeating that refrain. He heard another whine, louder, and his heart skipped a few beats. “Good puppy? Uh. Don’t eat me.”
There was a third whine, and Jack felt the need to hurry up and find the critter. He brought the bat up and held it close to his chest. “I mean it. If you bite me, I’m gonna be so pissed off!” Is it hurt? Did they shoot it? Shit! What if it is rabid? But don’t rabid animals act all crazy and frothy? They don’t hide behind a water trough and whine. I hope. God, I really hope they don’t.
“If this is some kind of trap, if you’re smart enough to lure me to you so you can have a meal, I guess you deserve it, then.” Jack snorted. “And I get a Darwin Award for being a complete fuckwit.”
He was six feet away from the corral and took a deep breath. “I’ve got a bat. Don’t make me use it.”
What sounded like a snort-snuffle from the creature was followed by the tips of two ears appearing over the edge of the trough. Those ears turned and twitched.
“It’s just me,” Jack assured the critter. “Just me, without a gun, all stupid and ready to scream like a sissy if you attack me. I might be able to kill you with the high-pitch screech, so be warned. You don’t want your brains running out those pretty ears.”
And they were pretty—a dusty red with bits of gray, tan, and black in them.
Slowly, the closer Jack came to the corral, the more of the coywolf’s head appeared. He was betting it was a coywolf. It didn’t look like the coyotes or wolves he’d seen while growing up in the area.
“You’re fucking huge,” he marveled when the coywolf sat up fully, fat pink tongue dangling from its mouth. Jack couldn’t be sure, but he thought the coywolf was actually grinning at him. There was a definite uptilt to its mouth back by the jaws—and the animal had scarily big teeth. “Um. I won’t taste good, in case you’re wondering.”
Oddly enough, the itchy, restless feeling he’d had for the past several days ebbed to an almost unnoticeable level. So did the sense of loss he’d been trying to puzzle out the cause of.
Jack put both things down to him being in a life or death situation. Then the coywolf yipped and wagged its tail while raising one paw up to rest on the trough.
“What the fuck, buddy?” Jack asked, taken aback by the show of playfulness. “Buddy. Well, okay.” Jack closed his eyes for a second and chastised himself for giving the animal a name. “Now I’ve done it.”
He opened his eyes when he heard a scuffling sound, sure he was about to be attacked. Instead, Buddy had scooted back away from the trough and was on his belly, that tongue lolling as he wagged his tail faster.
“Maybe you’re a dog?” Jack hazarded a guess. “A dog with yellow eyes and really sharp teeth.”
Buddy groaned and shook his head.
Jack was so shocked that he almost dropped the bat. “No. You did not just understand what I said.”
Buddy rose up on his front paws just a few inches and yipped, head bobbing. “I did.”
Jack felt the blood drain from his head as ice-cold fear coalesced in his gut. “No. I didn’t hear you say that.” And he didn’t. It’d been very clear and loud in his mind, though, and the voice… it’d sounded just like a certain sexy man he’s spoke with a few nights ago in the alley.
“Jack? Jack!” that familiar voice shouted, bouncing around Jack’s skull and terrifying him to no end.
“No. What’s happening?” His heart was beating too fast, and his mind was spinning, and darkness etched around the edges of his vision. This is it. I’m losing my mind, having a breakdown, panic attack… hell. Jack tried to breathe, then the world went black.
****
Despite his best attempt, Ben wasn’t fast enough to catch Jack and save him from crashing to the ground.
Ben leapt over the trough and fence, landing beside Jack a second later. He reached for him and groaned. Paws weren’t what he needed.
Despite his worry for Jack, Ben had enough sense to make sure no one else was around before he shifted into his human form. It only took a moment, then he felt for Jack’s pulse, found it strong and steady.
“Good. God, don’t scare me like that ever again.” He spotted the baseball bat and almost laughed at the idea of that as a defense against a shifter.
He was giddy with relief, certain that Jack was okay. There was no scent of sickness about him. Ben’s shifter was very close to the surface for several minutes after he transformed, and he retained more of his heightened senses until he’d been human for a while. Even then, he had better vision, hearing, and scent than the average person did.
He sniffed Jack again, and the aroma went straight to Ben’s dick.
“Aw, come on, you gotta be kidding me,” he groused. “Now? Really?” Ignoring his erection, he scooped Jack up in his arms. The bat caught his eye again, and Ben grunted as he bent to grab it as well.
If someone came into the yard by the corral and saw the bat, they might assume something bad had happened to Jack.
Even if something kind of bad had actually happened.
Something weird had definitely gone down between them. Ben didn’t understand it, but he’d have sworn Jack had heard his thoughts right before Jack passed out.
And there’d been a blast of chaotic gibberish that had slammed into Ben’s mind right at that instant. He wasn’t going to dwell on it, because if he did, he’d freak himself out.
Ben loped across the yard, nude and very aware of that fact, praying that no one would see him as he toted Jack to the house.
Once he made it up the porch steps, the rest was a breeze. He toed the screen door open, turned sideways, and shimmied into the house. “Nice,” he murmured, catching a glimpse of pretty yellow walls and framed family photos. He wanted to look those over sometime, but not when he was in a rush.
The house smelled good too. He scented raw meat, which made his mouth water. He gave the kitchen a wistful look as he passed by.
Ben sniffed until he found the bedroom that smelled the most like Jack. He nudged the door open all the way, then entered, and grinned upon seeing the messy state of the room. Jack wasn’t a neat-nick. If things progressed between them and they lived together somewhere, there’d be no bickering over one of them leaving their clothes on the floor.
Not that the room was a disaster. There was just Jack’s pajamas puddled on the floor by the bathroom door, and a few pairs of shoes strewn about. Books, magazines, a laptop—and a sketch pad. That last one had Ben’s curiosity rising. Rather than snooping, he settled Jack on the bed, then felt his pulse again.
“Still steady and strong. I bet you’re the same, aren’t you, Jack?” Ben leaned down and nuzzled Jack’s face and neck, running his nose over warm, soft skin, taking in every aroma having to do with him.
Ben’s dick was harder than ever. He placed a chaste kiss on Jack’s neck, right where his pulse was fluttering faster then. Ben knew Jack would wake at any moment. Instead of lingering, Ben needed to get out of the house, and away to somewhere safe.
It wouldn’t be a good idea for him to be there, naked as the day he’d been born, when Jack woke up or Rhett returned.
The porch door banged open. “Jack!”
And once again, Ben hadn’t been fast enough.
“Whazzit n whyz bats heads,” Jack mumbled, eyelids flickering.
Ben scrambled for cover, diving under the bed as Rhett came thundering down the hallway.
“Shit,” Jack rasped just as Ben managed to tuck himself as far under the bed as was possible. “What happened?”
“What happened?” Rhett demanded.
Ben wrinkled his nose. Rhett reminded him a lot of Casey. They were both big and bossy. Assertive. Whatever.
The bed squeaked and dipped, then Jack’s legs appeared as he set his booted feet on the floor. “What do you mean, what happened? I was taking a nap.”
Rhett’s boots came closer. The barrel of a rifle appeared as Rhett held the weapon down at his side.
“Are you sick?” Rhett asked. “You left food out all over the kitchen. I thought…”
Jack huffed. “Yeah, I kind of feel like shit, actually. Think I might be coming down with a bug. You thought what?”
“I thought maybe that fucking ex of yours might have showed up or something.” Rhett’s voice held the sharp edge of anger. “I know. Stupid of me to worry about that. Just… things are going on here and I don’t understand ’em. It’s got me itchy between the shoulder blades, and I just feel off. Like I’m missing a very important point. Think it’s making me paranoid.”
“Alex doesn’t know where the ranch is,” Jack said. “Maybe that feeling you’ve got is the same bug that has me feeling like crap.”
“Could be, I guess, but it doesn’t feel like a physical thing, exactly.” Rhett came closer still, then the bed dipped farther.
Ben was really glad he was under the other side of the bed. Otherwise, he’d have been in an even more uncomfortable situation.
“I just don’t know what’s going on, but as long as it’s you and me, little bro, we’ll muddle through it all.”
Ben suspected there was some kind of brotherly show of affection going on by the sounds of thumping and the obnoxious screech of the bedsprings.
“Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll get it going in the Crock-Pot, then I’m calling the Wyoming Game and Fish Department to see about getting some traps for those goddamned predatory animals.” Rhett got up, then he left the room.
Traps. Fuck! No, no, no. I have to warn Casey! Ben wondered how long he was going to have to wait to escape. At least until it was dark outside, because he’d almost certainly have to go out the bedroom window, and the ranch hands might be out there until then. It was a long time until sunset. If he had any luck at all, he’d be able to slip out from under the bed when Jack left, and stretch his already-cramping muscles.
Jack bent over and began tugging off his left boot.
Ben looked at those long, lean fingers and his dick remembered just how much he wanted Jack.
That wasn’t going to help him out of his current situation any sooner. Ben clenched all over, trying to ignore the rampant need coursing through him. He really wanted to feel those fingers in him, though. He’d never bottomed for anyone, had never been asked to. The idea of having Jack open him up slowly, pushing one, two, then three fingers into him lit Ben up with so much lust, he could have come just from stroking himself a few times.
The idea almost made him snicker. He could just imagine Jack peeking under the bed and finding a puddle of dried spunk. It was ludicrous and not something Ben would ever let happen, but he was able to perfectly see it happening.
“What the fuck?” Jack rasped, then the springs squeaked again, and Jack was looking at him upside down. “What—”
“Ssh.” Ben didn’t say anything else as Jack stared at him, hair askew, eyes wide, shock clear on his handsome features.
That chaotic racket kicked up in Ben’s head again, like someone was turning a radio dial that was linked directly to his brain, and all it was picking up was static and bits of words and phrases.
Jack slapped both hands down on the floor. “Ben?” He gulped.
Ben had no reasonable explanation at hand for him being there, and definitely not one for him being nude. There was no doubt about it—he was completely fucked.