Alphas of Red Moon Ranch(45)

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Holly said and was about to turn around when—

“Holly?” Holly lifted her gaze and—to her surprise—saw Miranda step out of the car. The mature bombshell wore a thigh-length dress Holly could never get away with and a surprised smile as she removed her Ray-Bans from her face.

“Miranda.” Holly was tongue-tied, a deer in headlights in front of the Red Moon Ranch’s horse trainer. She fumbled for words as Cayden left her wing and lumbered lankily over to Miranda. “Is this your—?”

“My son, yes.” Miranda smiled sharply. Now Holly recognized that smile, the same toothy grin Cayden wore. Teeth…oh. So she hadn’t been seeing things in the library after all. Cayden was different. He was one of them. A were-cougar, like his mother. The sudden revelation made Holly dizzy. No matter what, she couldn’t get away from animals nipping at her heels.

“So you’re the new professor,” Miranda said, slipping her hand to the back of her son’s neck and squeezing. They were perfect carbon copies of each other—plastic smiles hiding a layer of viciousness underneath. “Cayden doesn’t tell me much about what’s going on at school anymore, I’m afraid.”

Cayden—like every other normal, angsty young adult—shrugged out from under his mother’s hawk-like grip and glared at her.

“I hope he’s not giving you too much trouble, are you, Cayden?” his mother said, turning to the boy.

He glowered, but then shot Holly a pleading look. A don’t rat on me look. What was Holly going to say, anyway? Your son has been going all “mating season” on my lecture class? Miranda made Holly uncomfortable, ever since that night in the Weeping Willow Tavern when she’d caught Holly and Jacob tangled together on the back porch. That look in her eyes…it was the look of a woman who had lost the battle but not the war. And Holly was afraid what lengths she might go to in order to get what she wanted.

Determined to not be any more on the other woman’s shit list than she already was, Holly pressed her lips in a smile and said, “No. No trouble at all.”

“Good,” Miranda said, practiced grin intact. “Let’s make sure it stays that way.”

Was she talking to Holly or Cayden? Holly couldn’t tell.

“How are my babies?” Miranda asked, casual small talk.

Holly shrugged. “Casanova is getting used to me,” she said, referring to the black stallion Miranda trained. She figured that, at the very least, they could talk about horses amicably.

“As long as he doesn’t forget whom he belongs to,” Miranda said with a wink in a way that made Holly’s blood boil. He’s a strong horse. He doesn’t belong to you. He doesn’t belong to anyone but himself.

Of course, Jacob was in the forefront of her mind.

“I’ll see you around, Miranda,” Holly said coolly. She wasn’t about to be dragged into the other woman’s drama, especially not on campus. Holly had made this place hers, her own piece of quiet, and she would be damned if she was going to let a couple cougars disturb that.

(Maybe she had spent too much time with bears. She was getting positively territorial.)

“I’m sure,” Miranda said and then slipped back into the car. “Cayden, move your feet,” she hissed and Cayden—like one of her well-trained horses—jumped to attention and got in the car. Was there nothing Miranda couldn’t control with a strong fist?

Yes. Holly. She wasn’t going to fall prey to the spell the other woman seemed to cast on everyone around her. Holly tugged her cardigan tighter around her shoulders and felt the printout crinkle in her pocket. She had far more important things than (literally) catty mama-drama to worry about.





Chapter 35


Miranda pushed the car into drive and sped off. She gritted her teeth and tried not to let it show just how shaken she was. Cayden was her own worst-kept secret—everyone knew about him, but everyone also knew not to get involved with her son’s business, least they face the wrath of a cougar mother. He was the bastard son of a wayward father, and she didn’t like the idea of Holly being within arm’s reach of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me your teacher was a Westmore?” she snapped.

Cayden shrugged. Looked out the window. “Didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Didn’t it?” she asked, voice more bitter than sweet. “We’re trying to knock the Westmore clan off the map and it didn’t occur to you to mention that you’ve got one in your classroom?”

“Whatever,” he said. Pouting. Spoiled brat.