Lion Love Page 2

  “No. No wolves for me.” A small smile formed on Bree’s lips. “Nope. I want lions.”

  Lion shape-shifters. As in men who can change into lions. Damn, why does that sound sexy? Have we both gone crazy?

  “Hi there. This is for you.”

  Winnie startled, surprised by the sudden appearance of the waitress. The beautiful dark-haired girl set a pitcher of beer on the table.

  “It is?” asked Bree, who shot Winnie a “beats me” look.

  “It sure is. I’m Carol Dayton. Welcome to Lonesome.” The waitress stuck out her hand to Winnie.

  At first, Winnie didn’t think to put out her hand. “Oh.”

  “And you’re…”

  “Oh.” Do I sound like a mindless twit? “I’m Winnie, and this is Bree.”

  “Winnie, huh? Cute name. As in Winnie the Poo?”

  It wasn’t the first time someone had asked that. Yet it still embarrassed Winnie. Who wanted to be named after a cartoon bear, anyway? But that was exactly what her parents had done. “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay then.” Carol shifted back and forth on her feet.

  Is she waiting for a tip? Do you tip when you get a free drink?

  “So who sent us the pitcher?” asked Bree.

  “I did.”

  “Really? Why?”

  It seemed Bree was as surprised as Winnie was. Why in the world would a waitress bring them a free pitcher of beer?

  Carol shrugged. “To welcome you to the festival, of course.”

  “Oh.”

  Although Carol’s explanation made sense, Winnie heard the disappointment in Bree’s voice and knew the reason. Bree had hoped that some good-looking man—or men—had sent the pitcher to them.

  “Sorry. I know you’d rather have had some great-looking men send it to you.”

  “No, no. It’s fine. And thanks.”

  Winnie squirmed in her chair, feeling awkward. Her attention slid to the people around her. She’d come to Lonesome because her best friend believed she’d seen a lion turn into a woman, but there was no reason why they couldn’t have a little fun, too. Having some fun would ease some of the tension between them over whether or not Winnie truly believed shifters were real. She was sure Bree would be up for some fun if only she could get her best friend’s mind off finding shifters.

  I’d sure as hell like to forget about shifters for a while! And what better way to do that than to think about men?

  She frowned, letting Bree and Carol continue their conversation without her. Bree would do what Bree wanted to do. Once again, her focus shifted back at the bar. Yet instead of centering on the two men she’d seen earlier, her gaze slid along the length of the bar.

  She inhaled a quick, “holy cow” breath as she took in three amazing-looking men. Men who were even better looking than the previous two men.

  Wow! And just when I thought I’d seen the hottest men around, here are three more that are even hotter.

  Sexual lust burned between her legs. She crossed her legs and squeezed them tightly together.

  What would I do with men who look like that? Hell, what wouldn’t I do to men who look like that!

  Vic had been handsome, but he looked like an ugly troll hiding under a bridge compared to these men. The three hotties were almost beyond description. At least any she could ever put into words. Trying to tell her friends back home about them would definitely end up in them not believing her. Bree could back her up, but they still wouldn’t believe her. After all, how many people would believe in gods walking among mere mortals?

  Damn, but they’re tall.

  At five feet and four inches—usually only when she really stretched as tall as she could—she was used to men being taller than she was. But these men would make her feel very small. Small and perhaps even—did she dare think it—diminutive. She longed to slip up beside them and feel their large bodies cocoon her. Then she’d lift her gaze to theirs, craning her neck to do so, and stare into their eyes, hoping to see that they were as interested in her as she was in them.

  But forget their height. Even from a distance, she could see the outline of their muscles under their cotton shirts. All three wore faded jeans, their shirt sleeves rolled up to expose muscled arms, and boots that had obviously seen a lot of hard work. Hopefully, some of the scuffmarks on their boots had come from line dancing.

  Each of them had brown hair with the darkness of their locks differing. One of them had a white streak slashing from his temple and over his left ear and, although she couldn’t imagine how it had happened naturally, she had a feeling that it had. He didn’t appear to be the kind of man who would step into a hair salon much less sit still long enough to get a white streak added to his hair.

  She thought of them, giving them names to remember them by.

  Mr. Handsome, his hair such a dark brown as to be almost black, was built as strong as any bull. Dark stubble caressed his jawline and enticed her eyes to wander to the hair tickling his shirt collar. He held a drink of something golden, and as he lifted it to his lips, she found herself peeking her tongue out from between her lips as though she could taste the liquid along with him. Or, better yet, be the liquid he was putting to his mouth.

  When his gaze met hers, she sucked in a surprised breath. Although it was difficult to do, she forced her gaze from his and onto the second man.

  Judging from the same strong facial structure as Mr. Handsome’s, Mr. Stud was obviously a relative His hair was lighter, and for some reason, she thought he had to be younger than Mr. Handsome, but not by much. His full lips, sensual looking yet still masculine, curved in a slight smile as though he could read her mind and found her interest if not surprising, then amusing. He hooked his thumbs in his jeans then cocked his head to the side and let his smile grow.

  Fortunately—maybe unfortunately—the crowd suddenly blocked her view of the third man. She squirmed in her chair then scooted it a foot to crane her neck and get another look.

  The third man she called Mr. Dream ran a hand through his hair, stirring the white streak. He was as solidly built as the other two men. He stood close to them, a drink in his hand, but seemed somehow detached from them. Was he related to them? She studied him harder. There were definite similarities between him and the other two men, but his face was more angular, his chin slightly less square, yet just as strong.

  What would she say to them if she got the chance? Would she be able to find the right words? Or would they look at her and render her speechless?

  As far as she was concerned, that would be a shame. Suddenly, she could think of so many questions she’d like to ask them. So many things she’d like to tell them.

  Questions first.

  Are you brothers?

  Are you single?

  Do you like short, skinny girls with curly blonde hair?

  What would you like to do to me? For me?

  And then she’d move on to what she’d tell them.

  Talk to me. It doesn’t matter what you say. I just want to hear your voices. No doubt, they’ll be full of testosterone and sexy as hell.

  Touch me. I’ll bet your hands are callused and rough. I like rough hands.

  Lick me. And I’ll lick you back. I can already imagine what you taste like.

  Suck on me. My fingers. My toes. My tits. My clit. Suck on me everywhere.

  Fuck me. Fuck me here. Fuck me there. Fuck me anywhere you want to fuck me.

  Fuck me any way you want to. I will let you do things I’ve never let anyone else do. Things I’ve never wanted to do with anyone else.

  All at once, as though she’d sent them a silent signal to “look at me,” they did exactly that. This time, she held her breath, certain that she could feel a physical connection to them. Certain that they were calling to her, telling her to come to them. Certain that they had a future together. She began to rise…

  And then the crowd shifted again, blocking her view.

  No!

  Losing sight of the three incredible men hu
rt. Strangely, she’d become invested in them without ever meeting them. Tears burned her eyes as a hollow feeling swept over her.

  Where did they go?

  She leaned to one side of the chair, straining to see, then back to the other side. Yet the people around her kept moving tighter together.

  Move, damn you!

  She stood up then sat down hard, her body trembling, her legs too weak to keep her upright. Her breathing quickened, her heart raced. Still, she searched for them, but couldn’t find them. Slowly, as hope died inside her, her breathing grew regular, and her heart beat a normal rhythm again.

  What the crap?

  Had she almost gone over to three strangers? Yet, although they were no longer in sight, she couldn’t help but think of them as men she’d known, men she wanted to know better, men who were meant to be hers.

  Good grief. I’m getting as bad as Bree.

  She heard someone saying her name. Was it them?

  Disappointment flooded her as she realized it was a female voice. Bree’s voice.

  Then she was aware that Carol had walked off in a rush. Had she noticed Winnie’s odd behavior? What the hell had happened? She centered herself then looked to her friend for answers. Yet, sadly, they weren’t the answers she really wanted. “Bree, what’d you say to her? She took off like a bat out of hell.”

  “Oh, so you were listening.”

  “I heard part of what you two were saying.” Obviously, she hadn’t heard enough. She’d been too lost in studying the three men who had taken her soul, shaken it, and then disappeared.

  Get a damn grip, girl.

  “So what’d I miss?”

  “I asked her what kind of shifters her brothers and cousin were.”

  Oh my God. She didn’t. Wait. Is she talking about my men?

  Immediately, she corrected herself. Not my men. Why the hell did I think that?

  Winnie was certain she hadn’t heard Bree correctly. “You did what? Are you serious?”

  “I sure am.”

  I can’t believe it.

  Yet it wasn’t a surprise when Bree pointed toward the front of the bar. “See those men? The three hot guys at that table? That’s them.”

  Winnie followed her direction, first relief flooding her as she realized exactly who Bree was talking about, and then her incredulousness increased by the second. Her friend had asked straight out if the men were shifters. Obviously, Bree was going all out to find shifters.

  “Plus I asked her if she was a shifter, too. I figured I might as well cut to the chase.”

  Oh. My. God. She didn’t.

  “And what’d she say?” The question came out as a whisper, a croak against the growing dread. Bree had always been more adventurous, more outgoing, but even she hadn’t expected her friend to just up and ask people if they were shifters.

  “She denied it, of course. She also acted like she didn’t know what The Allure was, too.”

  Oh my God. What did Bree just do? Or, worse, what would she do next? Damn it. I should’ve been paying attention. Instead, I was mind-drooling over three men I don’t even know. Three men I don’t have a chance in hell of getting to know.

  She slipped farther down in her chair, wishing she could slide straight through the floor. “Keep your voice down. Besides, that allure thing is something you read on the Internet.” Bree knew better than to believe half of what she read online, but she’d taken every word of what little information there was about The Allure to heart. “It’s not the same thing as seeing one of them.”

  She was still trying to be supportive, but maybe she’d encouraged Bree too much. Her friend had sworn she’d seen a real shifter, and Winnie believed her—sort of—but should she have? Should she be getting Bree to come to her senses? Or, at the very least, to keep her thoughts to herself instead of asking people straight out if they were shifters?

  “But it’s true. I don’t know why or how I know, but I do. She’s one of them. And I’ll bet her brothers and cousin are, too.”

  She knew Bree well enough to realize that she had a snowball’s chance in hell of changing her mind. Once Bree got something stuck in her head, it was nearly impossible to get it unstuck.

  All at once, Bree was out of her chair. “I’m going to talk to them.”

  “Wait. What?” Wasn’t what Bree had already done enough? “You’re not actually going to come right out and ask, are you? Please tell me you’re not.” And yet she’d already asked indirectly. Now she wanted to go straight to the source.

  Bree turned back to her friend. “I thought we’d have a look around and, hopefully, I’d get lucky like last year. But maybe that’s not the best tactic. Like they say, a good offense is a good defense.” Bree frowned. “Or maybe it’s the other way around. I don’t know, but who cares? I’m going for it.”

  Winnie waved her hand, trying to get Bree back to the table. “No. Let’s talk about this first. Sit down already.”

  “Nope. The time for talk is over. I think my running into a shifter last year was just dumb luck. And that we’re not going to be so lucky this year. It’s time to take action.”

  “I’m not sure everyone would think running into a werelion in the restroom would be considered lucky, but—”

  “But nothing, Winnie. My gut tells me to just go for it, so that’s what I’m going to do. You can either come with me or sit here and wait until I get back.”

  Those were her only choices? Yet there was no way in hell she was going to walk up to complete strangers and ask them if they were shifters. “Bree, please. Don’t.”

  But it did no good. Bree was off and moving swiftly toward the three men.

  Oh my God. What have you gotten us into?

  Chapter Two

  Shane Landerson took hold of Carol’s arm and tugged her into the hallway leading to the restrooms. His brothers, Jason and Danny, followed them.

  Carol jerked her arm out of his grasp. “Hey! You’re hurting me, asshole.”

  Shane held up his hands, although he was pretty sure Carol knew him well enough to know he would never dream of hurting her. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I got carried away.”

  Jason and Danny moved closer, putting Carol against the wall. Luckily, being a werelioness, Carol didn’t take it as a threat. She could sense their eagerness.

  “So tell us. Who is she?” asked Danny. He rocked back and forth on his feet even as he kept twisting around to peer back into the crowd.

  Shane followed the direction of Danny’s look even though he knew his brother couldn’t see the sexy little blonde. The bar was getting even more crowded than before. “Yeah. Who is she?”

  Carol batted her eyelashes. “Who’s who?”

  Shane gritted his teeth and shoved his lion back into submission. Carol was teasing, and usually he played along, but now wasn’t the time. “Damn it, Carol. Stop fucking around.”

  She feigned a dramatic sigh. “Oh, trust me, boys. This poor girl hasn’t been fucking around in a very long time.” She skimmed the tip of her finger down Shane’s shirt from the vee all the way to his belt. “How about helping a girl out?”

  She didn’t mean it. Her tease was all show and no substance. Besides, if he or his brothers ever thought about taking advantage of Carol, Matt and Ridge Dayton and their cousin, Burton Bridgeport, would skin them alive. Plus, Carol was like a sister to him. Right now, however, she was a sister who was pushing him to the edge. “Carol,” he said with a warning tone.

  “Okay, okay. Keep your cats in check.” Carol tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, studying them. “You’re talking about the cute little blonde, right?” Her smile lifted, reminding him of the Cheshire Cat. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you? Damn. Talk about moving fast. Hell, you haven’t even met her yet.”

  “Just tell us what we need to know,” urged an impatient Jason.

  Shane couldn’t agree with Jason more. They didn’t simply want to know. They needed to know.

  But Carol wasn’t through with her teasing.
“Wow. Could this be love at first sight? Even without The Allure?”

  A man, especially one with a lion inside him, could take only so much. He let his cat rise a little, enough to bring amber to his eyes and the tips of his fangs stabbing at his lips. Not that it would scare Carol. But it would serve as a warning. Thankfully, she understood the warning.

  “Fine. Her name is Winnie.” Carol grinned bigger. “You know. Like Winnie the Pooh.”

  The name wasn’t remotely sexy enough for her. Yet what did he care? She could be called Herbert and he’d still want her. “And?” he asked with a growl in his voice.

  “And her friend’s name is Bree. Sorry, boys, but that’s about all I know.”

  He drew back, shocked. It wasn’t like Carol not to dig for more information. Unless… “Your brothers and cousin aren’t after her, are they?”

  She frowned as though she hadn’t given the possibility any thought. “I don’t think so.” She whipped up a finger. “I’ll go check it out. Hang tight, guys.”

  Shane eased his brothers back, giving Carol a chance to get out from between them. She hurried from the hallway, yet instead of going in the direction of Winnie, she darted straight for where her brothers and her cousin had been sitting.

  “Shit. I feel like I’m back in high school and passing notes to the girl I’m crushing on.” Danny ran a hand through this hair. “Why don’t we just go and find out who she is for ourselves?”

  “No shit,” added Jason. “He’s right. We’re acting like kids.”

  Yet before they could move, Shane held his arm in front of them. “Like Carol said. Hang tight.”

  “No, man. We snooze, we lose.” Jason shoved Shane’s arm away. “Hell, those guys could be putting The Allure on her right now. We need to make our move fast.”

  “They won’t do it here.” At least, he didn’t think they would. Still, when it came to werelions, anything was possible.

  “Then where?” Danny’s light brown eyes gave way to flecks of amber. If he didn’t watch out, his lion would get the best of him.

  “I don’t know.” Where could they take her except to their ranch? But would she go? His stomach churned. She just might, especially if they gave her a taste of their allure to get her to their home. Once she was at the ranch, they could give her the full force of it, blocking the way for any other werelion to make a move. Not that they, too, couldn’t give her a taste of their allure, but they’d be going against the code all werelions lived by. Once a woman was allured, all other werelions except possible co-mates would back off.