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Wild Need




  Werewolves of Forever, Texas 4

  Wild Need

  Kate Wingate takes a job as a personal assistant even though she has to move to the small town of Forever, Texas. Still, the benefits are better than she’d imagine when she finds herself getting up close and personal to three hot cowboys. It’s a dirty job, but, hey, someone’s got to do it, right?

  Travis Williams, Cort Cartland, and Tucker Lawson, the men of Moonlight Ranch, searched and found their mate in the beautiful Kate. But when a werebear bearing a grudge decides to put his paws on her, the men risk showing her their secret before she’s ready. After Kate sees her men’s fangs and claws, will she accept their werewolf alter egos along with their eternal love? Or will she run for the hills?

  Genre: Menage a Trois/Quatre, Shape-shifter, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 45,744 words

  WILD NEED

  Werewolves of Forever, Texas 4

  Jane Jamison

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  WILD NEED

  Copyright © 2012 by Jane Jamison

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-002-6

  First E-book Publication: August 2012

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  WILD NEED

  Werewolves of Forever, Texas 4

  JANE JAMISON

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  Twenty-six-year-old Kate Wingate stepped off the bus in Shatland, Texas, thanked the driver for retrieving her suitcase, and took a deep breath. She tugged at her jacket against the chill in the air. Fall had come late this year, but she hoped it wouldn’t mean a harsh winter would follow. She preferred the warmth of summer to cold weather, but so far, the weather had been mild except for the wind. But then the wind always seemed to blow in Texas and Oklahoma.

  The town wasn’t much to look at, with streets heading off in perpendicular directions. The shops that lined Main Street were the typical mom-and-pop shops of small-town America. A few pumpkins sat near the doors of some of the shops. Were they planning ahead for Halloween, or were the pumpkins just a sign that it was a farming community? She’d have expected stalks of corn or wheat, but who knew? She’d never paid much attention to agriculture to know when each crop was grown. In fact, other than attending some of the larger rodeos in Oklahoma, she’d stayed a city girl, running between Oklahoma City and Norman for shopping and fun.

  “Okay. We have a barbershop, a bakery, a feed store, and a consignment used-clothing store, among others. But no Starbucks, and no Walmart. Great. Just great. How does anyone live without a Walmart?”

  After juggling a variety of part-time jobs to help pay her tuition as well as handling as many classes as she could, it had taken her longer to graduate. She’d only recently graduated Oklahoma University with a business degree, but she’d hoped for a job in a new hometown that had the basic amenities. Was Forever larger than Shatland? Who knew, since she hadn’t found either town listed on any map? Even a Google search had come up empty.

  But beggars, especially ones up to their knees in school loan debt, couldn’t be choosy. She’d spent the summer trying to find work that would offer her enough money to live decently without having to live with her father or in a hovel of a place with four roommates. Halfway through the summer months, she’d given up on the idea of getting a job that would actually use her degree.

  She walked over to the bus bench and sat down, resting her suitcase against her leg. If the job worked out, she’d send for the rest of her belongings. Several people watched her, their dark eyes suspicious, and she squirmed.

  Why were they looking at her with such intensity? Did she have a stain on the front of her shirt? Was her zipper open? Deciding to meet them eye to eye, she lifted her gaze and gave them a closed-mouth smile.

  Yeah, like showing her my teeth will make my smile more menacing. Now where did that idea come from?

  Most of the citizens of Shatland turned away from her and went back to doing what whatever they’d been doing before she’d noticed them. An older couple, however, kept staring at her in an angry manner. Had she done something wrong?

  Her fingers itched for a cigarette to calm her nerves, but she was determined to break the habit she’d begun while in her first year of college. Smoking had helped ease the stress, but she was through with having to go outside a building every time she wanted to light one up. Besides, anything that hindered her chance at a decent job was a liability. As one of her professors had told her often enough, “Employers would prefer not to have a smoker due to possible health insurance claims. Plus they just don’t like being around a chimney all day.”

  She grabbed a piece of gum out of her slacks pocket, popped it into her mouth, and gave Shatland another look. She didn’t see any place that looked like it carried cigarettes anyway. Worse yet, she couldn’t see anywhere she might get a decent cup of coffee. Forget her caffe lattes. She feared they were a thing of the past, too.

  Pushing thoughts of creature comforts away, she dug in her purse for the paper that held the details of her new job. She skimmed the letter for the thousandth time since getting it two weeks
earlier.

  Ms. Wingate,

  I’m pleased that you’re willing to meet with me and interview one final time for the position as my personal assistant. As discussed in the previous interview conducted on my behalf by my friend Joseph Barnes, I trust his judgment implicitly and have no doubt of your fitness for the position. However, I must be certain. Therefore, the final interview will be held in Shatland and will serve to confirm that we are compatible as employer and employee.

  As Joe mentioned, I’m an attorney in Forever, Texas, and would welcome a person of your qualifications. Although the position is that of a personal assistant, I feel that you would gain valuable business experience working with my unique clientele.

  To reiterate what Joe told you, your compensation package, should we decide to go forward, includes the base salary of $35,000 per annum, paid in increments every other week, with a yearly bonus. In addition, you will be provided free room and board as well as the use of the company vehicle. Per our written agreement, should I rescind my offer of employment, I will reimburse all your traveling expenses as well as provide a month’s salary for your time and trouble. If we decide to go forward with this agreement, we will proceed to Forever immediately.

  I look forward to meeting you. Should you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.

  Sincerely,

  Tucker Lawson

  Moonlight Ranch

  He was an attorney that worked on a ranch? Or was Moonlight Ranch his home and not his place of business? She shrugged. He was an attorney in Texas, after all, and when it came to Texas, she could see almost anything happening.

  She smiled to herself and let her imagination run. What would a horseback lawyer look like? Did he wear a suit while riding his horse to see his clients? Would he wear a bolo tie instead of the average power tie? Would he wear a cowboy hat and boots? Would he be tanned from hours in the sun or pale from spending hours in his office?

  She sighed and hoped he’d turn out to be someone she could work with well. If not, her time in Forever might not last long. Either way, at least she’d get her questions answered soon.

  Kate slipped the letter into her purse and wondered if her friends and her father had been right. Moving from Norman, Oklahoma, to an even smaller town wouldn’t have been her first choice. But the huge debt hanging over her head with no way to repay it had made the decision easier. God knows her dad couldn’t help. He was stuck in a dead-end job with the threat of being laid off a constant reminder of his precarious employment. The amount of money Mr. Lawson would pay her, not to mention taking care of living expenses, had been too much to turn down, especially during a recession. She was lucky to have found a job at all.

  Still, the way the job had come about had her a little nervous. Her economics professor, a strange man with unusually long teeth, had told her about the position with one of his friends. She’d been grateful that he’d offered the chance to her and not one of the many other job-seeking graduates, but she’d almost turned down the position after interviewing with Mr. Lawson’s friend Joe Barnes. The man was pleasant enough in a rough kind of way and had asked the usual interview questions. But then he’d segued into personal questions she didn’t think a prospective employer should ask. Nonetheless, she’d answered the questions so she wouldn’t blow the job opportunity.

  She could still feel the way Mr. Barnes had stared at her as though he was sizing her up. Not just as a possible candidate for the position but as a person. His intent dark eyes had unnerved her, but she’d chalked it up to a ploy used by interviewers to try and rattle the employee-to-be and see how well they handled an uncomfortable situation. Even after he’d told her she’d done well and that Mr. Lawson would get in touch with her soon, she’d wondered about the odd experience.

  Who interviewed with someone other than the person offering the job? Wouldn’t a person hiring someone to work closely with them, especially as a personal assistant, want to meet her in person? She cringed at the word “personal” and wished the job had a different title.

  Mr. Barnes had told her that Mr. Lawson couldn’t get away to interview her himself, and she’d accepted it as a legitimate reason. Now, however, her initial doubts came rushing back. Not that it mattered. What other offers had she gotten? None. She’d had no choice but to take a chance.

  A black-and-white dog of mixed breed trotted over to her and touched his nose to her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears. The chain-link collar he wore jingled with his bone-shaped dog tag. “Hey, pup. How are you doing?”

  “Buster might actually answer you if you scratched his stomach. Otherwise, he likes to play the strong, silent type.”

  She jolted, shifting her body toward the sound of the deep voice. “Shit. You startled me.”

  Holding her hand over her eyes to shield them from the glare of the bright sunlight, she took in the man easing around the back of the bench to stand in front of her. Buster yipped and jumped up on the man, who playfully ruffled the dog’s fur.

  His long, lean body stretched over her, and she leaned back. Doing so gave her a good long look at him. Faded denim couldn’t hide the strength in his legs. Even though in the shade, his wide belt buckle glistened, an accent to his flat stomach. His thumbs were hooked into his pockets and led the way to his muscled arms that even in a relaxed position spoke of power. She followed one arm up to his wide shoulders then on to his broad chest. Then, at long last, she lifted her gaze a little higher and found his face.

  A smile quirked the edges of his mouth over a chin and jawline that were covered in a day’s stubble. Dark eyes, eyes that glittered with unspoken truths, met hers. Black hair, a little long, curled around his ears and hugged his neck. She suddenly found it harder to breathe.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He offered his hand.

  She gave him her hand tentatively, almost afraid he’d squeeze hers too hard. As soon as she touched his skin, she felt the calluses that spoke of hard work and long hours. A sizzle rushed up her hand and into her arm. Surprised, she jerked her hand from his and rubbed her palm. Did he have the gadget that shocked people when they shook his hand? She glanced at his hand but saw nothing.

  “Uh, no. It’s okay. I guess I’m a little jumpy today.” Buster stuck his muzzle against her hand, and she laughed. “I’m supposed to meet someone here.”

  “I know. I’m that someone.”

  Hell’s bells. Did I say “shit”? To my employer? “Oh.” She stood, skimming her hand down her lightweight jacket. Maybe she should’ve worn a dress, but she’d wanted to stay comfortable while riding the bus and had opted for slacks. If she hadn’t sold her car, she would’ve dressed more appropriately for the meeting, but she’d had to help her dad out with the household expenses.

  “You’re Kate Wingate. I’m Tucker Lawson.”

  Whether it was a question or a statement didn’t matter. She blushed, embarrassed that she hadn’t introduced herself first. “You’re not what I imagined.”

  Will someone please tape my mouth shut?

  His smile grew bigger, perhaps because of the heat rushing into her cheeks. Could she have gotten off to a worse beginning? He had to think she didn’t have enough sense to know how to greet people. “I’m sorry. That was rude. What I meant to say was—”

  “What you meant to say was exactly what you said.” He picked up her suitcase, pivoted on his heel, and started walking away.

  Was that it? Had she blown the interview and he was taking her to the bus station to buy her a ticket home? What would she do now? No job, a month’s salary for a job she’d managed to lose in a couple of minutes, and no place to stay except with her father. She hurried to catch him as his long legs ate up the ground.

  “Um, Mister Lawson, where are we going?”

  He pointed at a large pickup that had both a front and back seat. He tossed her heavy suitcase onto the bed of the pickup as though it weighed nothing then turned back to her. “We’re going to your new home.”
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  “My new home?”

  His eyebrows dipped between his gorgeous, I-want-you-now eyes. “You are Kate Wingate, right?”

  “Yes.” Could his voice sound any sexier? Like dark chocolate melting over her skin.

  “And like I said, I’m Tucker Lawson.”

  “Uh-huh.” Please let my brain start working.

  “Then let’s go.”

  “But what about the interview? Didn’t you want to ask more questions? Maybe get to know me first?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, and she had to drop her gaze to his worn boots to keep from staring at his flexing muscles. “I know what I need to know. But did you have questions for me?”

  She searched her nonfunctioning mind. She had questions. She knew she had, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember them. “No. I guess not.”

  “And you’re fine with the compensation package?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s get going.” He opened the door for her then waved a hand at the dog. “Let’s go home, Buster.”

  Buster barked once then ran to the end of the pickup and jumped into the bed. Tucker strode around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and slid onto the seat. “Miss Wingate?”

  She mentally shook herself. “Yes?”

  “Are you coming or not?”

  Putting her purse on the seat, she grabbed the door handle and pulled herself into the cab.

  “Good. We can use the drive back to Forever to get to know each other.” He switched on the ignition, threw the truck into gear, and slammed on the accelerator. The pickup raced down the street as people stopped and watched them.