All the more reason why I need to stay away from Denim.
He pushed his foot down on the gas, driving his Harley over the speed limit. At twenty-one, he'd a reputation for being reckless and somewhat of a bad-ass. Hopefully, Denim would hear the rumors and stay clear of him. He sure hoped so because there was nothing good that could ever come of them. She was a human female, and as a Were, Jax had no intentions of mating with her. Doing so would be dangerous for both of them. Not that she would be the first. He'd been involved with humans before, but none of those females had ever looked or smelled quite like Denim. And then there were her intense eyes … he'd never felt that drawn to a Were female and that was the problem. His father, the alpha, and the Wilde pack leader, expected his three sons to marry a Were and join alliances with one of the other great werewolf families. Uniting with another pack would make them powerful and stronger in so many ways. Jax knew that. Hell, his father had been drilling it in his head since he was old enough to understand, and yet he refused to settle for less than he believed he deserved. He didn't have a problem with an alliance, but it had to be with the right Were female. There needed to be more than mere physical attraction, and as much as he wanted to please the pack, in the end he was too stubborn to honor the tradition.
Jax concentrated on hugging the pavement and detoured onto a side road, climbing up the hill into one of the most secluded areas of Justice. As he rode his bike, he tried not to think about the drama he had caused the pack by calling off his engagement to the heir of the wealthy Chadwick pack. But with all the tension between the two families, how could he possibly think about anything else?
Chadwick Distribution was the largest exporter in the region and financially would have made a perfect match for their pack. The Wildes had been breeding prize horses for generations and the Chadwicks were responsible for transporting those beauties in America and overseas.
On Jax's thirteenth birthday, it was decided he would marry the alpha leader's only daughter Troy. After going through puberty and finding his manhood, he'd bedded dozens of women, both human and Were, and yet none of them had ever made him feel the way he had felt with Denim. None of them ever made him forget his childhood crush. He dreamed about her. Had been obsessed with her. Therefore, a month before his wedding, he called off the engagement. Troy had reacted like a raging lunatic, scratching, clawing, biting, all the more reason why she wasn't the one for him. Troy's father was so insulted, Chadwick threatened to cease exporting the horses. Now it was time to negotiate a new contract, but because the tension between the two packs was thick, Jackson Wilde, Sr. thought it was best to take a little time to allow things to calm down before negotiations resumed.
To Jax's relief, he and his father had a long talk and despite the alpha's disappointment of a failed merger, he'd given a smidgen of a smile and said, "Son, you'll know when you've met your mate. She'll smell like no other has ever smelled and your body will react in ways it has never reacted before."
His father had been right, and yet nothing had prepared him for what he'd felt walking into Pappy's Diner. It was like he'd been slammed over the head with a two-by-four.
Jax's fingers tightened around the handles until his knuckles turned white as he attempted to push the encounter aside. Denim wasn't his kind and the sooner he remembered that the better. He was destined to marry a Were. Just not Troy.
As soon as Jax reached a fork in the road, he turned right and climbed up the long winding, dirt road. A few hundred feet further ahead, he spotted a high wrought-iron gate to Wilde Ranch.
Seven years ago, his father had expanded and purchased land on both sides, surrounding the property, allowing more privacy. It was a great place for shape-shifting and allowed plenty of room for their horses and Weres to roam.
The gate swung inward and Jax drove up the driveway toward the house. The road was paved and on either side the land was lush with trees and brush. He slowed as he neared the house, pulled around to the side and then down through one of the underground tunnels that led inside the main house, and parked his bike. After climbing off, Jax grabbed the sack with his food inside. He walked over and pushed past a rubber flap-which was nothing more than a giant doggy door-and stepped up into a great room. He wasn't surprised to find his brothers sitting at the table.
"Hey bro," Chayton greeted, his powerful forearms crossed over his chest. "Where you been?"
Jax shrugged, then lowered onto one of the chairs at the round wooden table. "I went for a drive, then decided to stop by the diner."
Aidan held up a five-by-seven card and quirked up a small smile. "Kyle sent us a postcard from Paris."
His cousin Kyle Wilde had horrified the families when he married a human female. Unlike him, Jax wasn't interested in mixing breeds, which was why he had to stay the hell away from Denim.
"He and Dania are hoping to start a family," Aidan added as he flipped his long blond hair out of his eyes.
"Are they planning to come back and live with the pack?" Jax asked as he pulled the burger out of the bag.
Chayton shrugged, reached over and grabbed a fry before he could stop him. "I don't think they have much of a choice. Until the pack feels comfortable they can trust her, I think her freedom is limited. Graham and Morgan are in Paris right now keeping an eye on the two."
Jax shook his head. That was way too much drama.
"I wonder how they are getting their freak on with those two standing guard on the other side of the door?" Aidan teased and then starting making loud panting noises.
"TMI," Jax mumbled, as he took a bite of his burger. Medium rare ground steak. No one made them like Pappy. Jax caught Chayton staring at his food. "What?"
He was leaned back on the chair, golden eyes fixated on his burger. "How come you didn't pick up two more?"
Jax immediately slid the burger out of reach. "Because I wasn't planning on dropping by the diner. I just did." He had gone into town to pick up batteries at the convenience store when he'd smelled Denim all over that parking lot, taunting him to go inside the diner. So, he'd whipped out his cell phone and ordered takeout, because he had to see her. And the second he did, he was swamped with desire. As soon as he'd watched her pouty lips move, images had filled his mind of her mouth stroking him, urging his body to a shuddering crescendo. While he chewed his burger, Jax tried to tamp down the fantasy the best he could, but the animal within wanted to make those thoughts a reality. But Weres mated for life. And a human mate was not an option.
Growing increasingly frustrated, Jax wasn't sure what the hell he intended to do about the physical attraction. Maybe there was nothing he could do but ride out the storm raging through his loins. He couldn't get her off his mind. His body was aroused, his cock throbbed.
Enough dammit!
As he took another bite, Jax released a long slow breath, attempting to calm his wolf. It was already becoming crystal clear, staying away from Denim wasn't going to be easy.
3
Denim was used to loud music playing and people laughing, not crickets chirping. She hadn't heard the sounds of country living in years and hoped to have kept it that way. Unable to sleep, she slipped into shorts and a tee, then slid her feet into a pair of sneakers she intended to wear while working at the diner, and headed for the staircase. The large farmhouse was so quiet Denim was afraid to breath as she tiptoed down, skipping over a warped board on the third step, not to disturb Pappy.
Quietly she walked across the wooden floor into a large country-style kitchen. Everything was just the way her grandmother had left it. Red and white curtains hung from the window and everything was decorated with apples, from the clock hanging over the stove to the canisters lining the long butcher-block countertop. Denim grabbed the flashlight from under the farmhouse-style sink, then slipped out the back door out onto a screened-in porch and strolled across the lawn. A crescent moon was overhead, and there was just enough of a breeze to cool her damp skin.
As she traveled up the hill looking over toward the forest, she remembered the last time she'd been to Justice. Grandma Bea was still alive. She had been under the weather most of the summer, but nothing had stopped her from baking cakes and pies with Denim to sell at the diner. While the baked goods were in the oven, she'd always made a pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade, then they'd hang out on the wraparound porch, sitting in rocking chairs while they sang songs or Grandma Bea would tell stories about growing up in Justice just up the road, a few miles from Pappy's house. When Denim wasn't spending time with Grandma Bea, she had worked at the diner, cleaning tables and filling water glasses. Sometimes she would even help in the kitchen.