BlueMoonMating Read online

  “We’ll need to visit him later, I think. Explain what’s going on with his DNA,” Devon said, drawing Ben’s concentration back to his betas.

  “Let me guess,” Adam teased after swallowing his bite of food. “I’m the one who’ll have to get naked for the man?”

  Ben laughed. “As if we care about that,” he teased back. Then he sobered, staring at his own food. “There’s something I need to tell you guys.” His serious tone made both men pause, their gazes jerking up to focus on him. Ben glanced between them. “I’ve had a vision of our mate,” he blurted.

  Devon and Adam stared at him for several long, silent seconds. Finally, both men grinned. “That’s great!” Devon cried out. “What pack do we need to petition?”

  “What does she look like?” Adam added.

  Ben shook his head. “We don’t need to petition a pack,” he said softly. His gaze lifted to the confused gaze of his friends. “Her name is Sandy, and she’s human.”

  Chapter Two

  “Come in!”

  Sandy Shreve heard the shout from through the door and shook her head. Juggling the bags, she pushed the door open and entered the spacious two-bedroom apartment. Closing the door with her foot, Sandy crossed to the kitchen and set down the bags. She turned and found Lonnie lying on the couch, grinning at her.

  She glared at her friend. “What if it hadn’t been me? Someone could have walked in and killed you before you could even move.” Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration, but those bags were damn awkward.

  Lonnie laughed, which quickly turned into a grunt as he tried to lever himself into a sitting position. Hurrying over, Sandy wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder and helped him ease into a sitting position. She got a good look at his eyes and saw how dilated they were. “Got some good pain meds from the doctor?” she teased.

  “Hell yeah,” Lonnie said. “Loratabs, baby!”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I got you dinner. You shouldn’t take those things on an empty stomach,” Sandy said, starting to rise.

  Lonnie grabbed her wrist and inhaled deeply. “Mmm, you smell good. Is that new perfume?”

  Sandy laughed and pulled her hand away. “That’s the food. I brought Olive Garden. I know how you love their grilled chicken Caesar salad.” When she glanced over her shoulder, Sandy saw Lonnie staring intently at her with an unreadable look on his face. “What?”

  He blinked, and the look was gone. “Huh? Oh, nothing. That sounds delicious. You’re a sweetie.” He grinned and winked.

  Chuckling, Sandy shook her head. “Okay.” She pulled a container and a small sack out of the paper bag and set them on the coffee table. “So what happened anyway? I didn’t get the whole story from your mom.”

  Sandy had gotten a call at a little after noon from a stressed out Mrs. Bowler. The woman had said she couldn’t get away from work and her baby, Lonnie, was home injured, and wanted to know if Sandy could check on him. Sandy had told the woman not to worry, even though that was like telling a chicken not to lay eggs, and that she’d take care of Lonnie. Sandy had signed off her laptop and rushed out the door to take her childhood friend a late lunch and find out what the hell happened.

  Sandy pulled silverware from the drawer and walked back to Lonnie, who was drooling over his salad and bread sticks. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat and held up the fork and knife. When Lonnie reached for them, she pulled them out of his reach. “Well?” she asked, tapping her foot.

  “Oh, well, you know how me and a few others were headed to the Catskills to hike over the weekend? Well, I got attacked by a wolf.”

  Sandy’s mouth dropped open, and he used her surprise to grab the silverware and start eating. “What?” she squeaked. “A wolf? There aren’t any wolves around here!” She’d done research on the area for books, and the eastern timber wolf that used to inhabit the area was killed off in the early nineteen hundreds. “Are you sure it wasn’t a coyote? They look pretty similar.”

  Glaring, Lonnie’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “I know the difference between a wolf and a coyote, Sandy. I’m not stupid. It was a wolf!”

  The vehemence in his voice surprised Sandy, and her brows shot up. Lonnie didn’t really have a temper, so his reaction worried her. “Okay,” she said, lifting her hands in placation. “A wolf then. But why would it attack you?”

  Lonnie grinned around a mouth of chicken.

  Sandy growled in frustration. The man’s mood swings were beginning to irritate her. Damn pain killers.

  Lonnie quickly swallowed before saying, “I don’t know why it attacked. The ranger that helped me until the paramedics came thought it was feral and said he’d hunt it down. We were just hiking along, and it leaped out of the bushes, straight at Christina.” He waved his fork in emphasis. “She screamed, and I jumped in front of her. The wolf latched onto my leg. It bit down, released slightly, then bit again. When I took a swing at it to try to get it off, it let go and attacked my arm.”

  She noticed for the first time the bulky look of the sweatpants Lonnie wore. One leg was definitely larger than the other. And the bandages on his arm covered him from shoulder to wrist. “Holy shit,” she hissed, her eyes going wide. “How did you get it off? What happened?”

  Seeming to enjoy his enrapt audience, Lonnie chewed another big bite before answering. “Two more wolves rushed out of the bushes and grabbed him. They dragged him back into the woods.” He grinned. “They must have had a problem with him, too!”

  Sandy sat down in the chair across from the couch and huffed out a sigh. That sounded like the most, well, farfetched behavior for wolves that she’d ever heard of. “That’s…that’s…well, I don’t know what that is except unbelievable. I’d think you made it up, except you have no imagination.”

  Lonnie frowned. “You don’t believe me?”

  She watched the bearded man pout, which was so funny she had to bite back a laugh.

  “Want to see the stitches? I got eighty-seven of them! And the doctor said that he found six bite marks in all.”

  Her friend’s growing irritation dried up Sandy’s mirth. She smiled and patted his uninjured hand gently. “I’m sorry, Lonnie. I didn’t mean I didn’t believe you. Of course, I believe you.” She leaned forward and rested a hand on his bandaged one. “It’s just a pretty wild story, that’s all. Two wolves pulling a third one off you? I’ve never heard of wolves behaving like that,” she declared.

  “Well, that’s what happened,” Lonnie groused.

  “I believe you,” Sandy said again, smiling. “Did the doctor say how long it will take for you to heal? Will you need help with anything?”

  “Well,” Lonnie said slowly, and Sandy didn’t like the sly look on her friend’s face. “My left hand is the one I use to…” he glanced down meaningfully at his crotch before waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

  Sandy glared. “Oh, hell no. TMI, Lonnie.” She rose and strode away from him three steps before pivoting. “If you need help with that, get Christina to do it. I’m sure she’d be more than happy.” She jabbed her finger at him to emphasize her point.

  Lonnie laughed. “Sorry. Told you that you smell good.”

  “It’s the damn food,” Sandy said, rolling her eyes. “And eat your supper, so I can give you another pill. What do you want to drink?” she asked, crossing back to the kitchen, happy to get away from Lonnie’s suggestive remarks. Damn, the man must be loopy to talk to her like that. Sure, they’d messed around once or twice while growing up, but that had been years ago! They were friends now and the idea of doing something like that with him just… She shook her head. It gave her the willies!

  “I got a bottle of wine in the fridge. Wanna open it?” Lonnie called.

  Sandy turned around and glared. “No alcohol while on Loratabs.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of juice. “How about orange juice?”

  Lonnie let out an aggrieved sigh. “Fine.”

  Pouring a glass, she took it to him. “You’re such a
baby when you’re injured,” she teased.

  Lonnie stuck his tongue out at her.

  Sandy laughed. “What are you? Twelve?” He just shrugged, and Sandy decided, yeah, the pain meds have returned him to pubescence.

  Sandy stared at her laptop, trying to figure out what was wrong with the scene in front of her. She just couldn’t get the feel she wanted. Where it should have been sensual and steamy, it came off as contrived and stiff. Getting up from the table, Sandy crossed the room to her kitchen. She filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. Opening her cupboard, she stared at her tea selection, trying to decide what she was in the mood for. After a moment of careful consideration, Sandy pulled out a tea bag of Moroccan Mint.

  While waiting for her water to heat, Sandy leaned against the counter and stared out her sliding doors to the woods beyond her deck. It was late October, a few days before Halloween, so the days were cool and often-times windy, but some days still found her on the deck with her laptop. Sadly, today was not one of those days.

  She watched the trees bend and sway in the wind, thinking, not for the first time, how lucky she was to have found the little bungalow. It was small and on the outskirts of the little mountain town of Margaretville, but she loved it. The hardwood floors and wood burning fireplace gave it a rustic feel, so she’d decorated it in a cabin theme, with dark throw rugs and log wood furniture.

  The downstairs consisted of the living room, kitchen with breakfast nook, half bath and laundry room, and small dining room, which she used as her office. The dining room and kitchen had a great view of the forest that her cabin was backed up against. The second floor was an open loft bedroom that looked down over the living room. She loved her California king bed and the garden tub in the master bathroom.

  The teakettle whistled, drawing her attention away from the window. She pulled the kettle off the stove and poured steaming water into her prepared mug. Maybe she should carve her pumpkin. She’d been meaning to do that for days. Sandy glanced at the picture on the front of a magazine showing a smiling jack-o-lantern, wondering if she could duplicate the pumpkin’s grin. Smirking, Sandy decided probably not, but it would still be fun to try.

  A flash of movement out of the corner of her eye drew her gaze back outside. Picking up her mug, she crossed to the sliding door to get a better look. Sandy stared outside, wondering if she’d seen a deer. It wouldn’t surprise her. She loved getting up early and watching them graze in her backyard. Her home was so close to Catskill State Park that she saw all kinds of animals.

  When the movement didn’t repeat and she couldn’t see anything amiss, Sandy gave up the wait and returned to her laptop. She had just finished steeping her bag when her phone rang. Rising, she crossed to the counter, leaned her hip against the wood top, and picked up her cell phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sands. What’s up?”

  She smiled at Lonnie’s nickname for her, reminiscent of when he made fun of her dirty blonde hair in middle school. “Doing good. Just trying to collect my thoughts so I can fix this scene.” Lonnie didn’t understand her need to write, but he was always supportive and happy to listen to her ramblings about characters and plot lines. She couldn’t count the number of times when just talking to him had helped her solve a plot hole she had.

  “Well, maybe I can offer a little inspiration.”

  That had her brows ratcheting up. The memory of his odd comments last week when she’d visited him came to mind. “What do you mean?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as wary as she felt.

  Lonnie chuckled, suddenly sounding nervous. “I have a pair of tickets to High Flyers, and Christina just cancelled on me. Are you interested? They probably won’t be as good as Cirque du Soleil, but they should still be entertaining.”

  “Oh,” she let out, surprised by the invitation. “When is that?” She’d always wanted to see something like that, and she couldn’t foresee getting to Vegas any time soon.

  “Um. This evening at seven. The only problem is the performance is in Oneonta.”

  “Oh,” she said again. “Let me think.” Sandy took a sip of her tea and looked at her watch. It was already ten minutes after five, and Lonnie lived over thirty minutes away in Delhi, while she lived over an hour away. That meant she’d have to drive separately. Staring at her laptop, she shrugged. “I can do it. It sounds like fun. Tell me where it is in Oneonta, and I’ll meet you there at quarter to seven.” If she hurried through a shower and ate in the car, she could just make it by then.

  Almost thirty minutes later, her wet hair pulled into a bun at the nap of her neck, Sandy hurried to her Jeep. Four-wheel drive was a must in the winter, and she didn’t like how bulky trucks were on the winding mountain roads, so when Sandy had moved away from Delhi almost a year ago, she had bought a Jeep Wrangler.

  Driving through Delhi, close to Lonnie’s house, she realized she could have asked if he needed her to pick him up. Oops, too late now. She carefully finished off the turkey sandwich and Doritos she’d brought, not wanting to drop anything on the dark blue dress she’d donned.

  Pulling in the parking lot of the building, Sandy spotted Lonnie standing near the entrance. She parked quickly and slid from her Jeep. The heels of her black stilettos clicked on the sidewalk, the breeze against her legs making her think perhaps she should have worn slacks instead of the barely knee-length cocktail dress. She hurried to the door Lonnie held open for her. As she moved past, he smiled and inhaled. “Nice,” she thought he muttered.

  Lifting a brow, she cocked her head. “What?”

  Lonnie grinned. “You look nice. I appreciate you coming at the last minute. I’d really have hated to eat the tickets.”

  Sandy nodded. “Let me know how much it is, and I’ll pay you back.”

  Chuckling, Lonnie shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I owed you for the Olive Garden anyway. So this works out well.”

  “Okay,” Sandy replied, willing to take the trade. She felt Lonnie’s hand on her back as he guided her through the building. A prick of tension filled her. She wasn’t certain how she felt about Lonnie’s hold. It felt almost possessive.

  “Relax,” he murmured into her ear. Lonnie stood five-foot-nine-inches, so he barely had to do more than tip his head to have his lips next to her ear, since her four-inch heels extended her height to five-foot-seven instead of her standard five-foot-three.

  She forced a smile, uncertain where her discomfort stemmed from. Lonnie had been as close to a best friend as she had since elementary school. They’d grown up as neighbors, played in the sandbox and creek together. She’d even gotten him to play Barbies with her! He’d never do anything to hurt her. Letting go of her tension, her smile was real this time when they walked into the auditorium and Lonnie handed the tickets to the usher.

  Following the usher and Lonnie, Sandy took in the apparatuses erected on stage, trying to figure out how they’d be used. Once they were seated, she leaned over and murmured, “How’s your arm and leg. I didn’t notice you limping, so it’s gotta be better, right?”

  “Feeling really good, actually. The marks are healing really fast,” Lonnie told her. “I’ll be good as new in no time.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  They looked through the program, chatting about the different pictures and performers. When the lights dimmed, excitement coursed through Sandy. Men and women descended from the ceiling on ropes and ribbons, twirling and twisting in time to the music. It surprised her how much it turned her on to watch their lithe bodies, painted in vibrant colors and wearing very few clothes, spinning and dancing to the music. She felt her pulse pick up as her panties dampened. She rubbed her hands on her skirt, ignoring it as best she could.

  When intermission arrived, Lonnie pinned his blue eyes on her and grinned. “I need a drink. You interested?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you at the concession stand. I need to make a quick side trip first,” Sandy told him, desperate for a few minutes alone to regroup.

 
; She glanced to her left as she climbed the aisle and spotted a handsome man watching her from a seat near the back. The blond’s piercing blue eyes seemed to take in every move she made. He gave her a sexy smile before leaning over to his friend and gripping the man’s thigh to get his attention.

  The second man, whose thick brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, making Sandy wonder how long it was, glanced at the blond and lifted a brow. Blondie tipped his chin in Sandy’s direction and Muscle Man, so named because of his broad shoulders and thick arms, followed his friend’s line of sight. A slow, sensual smirk curved the handsome man’s lips as his gaze roved over Sandy’s body, making her feel far more exposed in the short cocktail dress than she was.

  She flushed, looking away. Seeing Lonnie several steps ahead of her, she hurried to catch up, but Sandy could still feel the heat of the two men’s gazes. Damn, those guys are fine. She could just imagine what Muscle Man’s arms would feel like wrapped around her. Or how Blondie’s full lips would feel on her neck. A shiver worked its way through her, and she tried to control her lusty thoughts. They certainly weren’t doing anything to ease her already racing pulse. Her thong was already soaked, and she could feel moisture between her thighs. What is wrong with me?

  “I’ll be right there,” she called to Lonnie before turning toward the ladies restroom. He smiled and lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

  Sandy hurried through the door, took care of business in the first available stall, and headed back to the sink. She was relieved to find the place used paper towels instead of those annoying wall mounted blow dryers. Sandy wet a paper towel and used it to dab her face and neck. She didn’t want to ruin what little makeup she’d bothered to put on, but she definitely needed the coolness the cloth provided.

  She shook her head and grinned at her reflection. Her green eyes stared back at her, as well as a few freckles across the bridge of her nose from her time in the sun. At least she’d managed to avoid a sunburn to her fair skin this season. Sure, she was cute in the girl-next-door kind of way, but nothing those two hunks would be interested in. She was too short and too plain. Sandy cocked her head. At least I have nice breasts.