Right Wolf, Right Time

Chapter One

Cougar Falls, Montana

Monty GrayClaw’s heart raced and his palms sweated. Years spent in captivity paled next to the dread spreading like a toxin through his system.

A wolf in human clothing, Monty should have felt far more confident than he did. He was Ac-taw, a born Shifter who could take the form of the noblest creature on the planet—a gray wolf of estimable grace, power and control. Yet he trembled. Hell. He couldn’t screw this up, not if he wanted to remain sane. One false step would be the end of him.

He glanced over his shoulder, expecting a trap. It was too quiet, too easy. All the months of lying in wait, the subtle stalking, being patient while his prey turned ripe for the plucking…it boiled down to how he maneuvered tonight.

The moon shone brightly overhead, the sweet smells of pine and rosemary making the cool, late-August air crisp with flavor, but not sharp enough to hide the creature moving within the antiquated Victorian still in sad need of repair.

Monty tightened his grip and swore when he cut himself. The scent of blood would carry. Damn it. He’d been waiting so long. He needed to act now. But what if he’d read the signs wrong? He’d already tried twice and had been rebuffed. What if he screwed up and set himself back even further? He couldn’t go through this again. Not after all his preparation, the sleepless nights, the new interference from the Gray Wolf Order…

A sound—footsteps—froze him in place as the scent of his prey approached. Creaks and groans of aging wood grew louder until only a solid plank of oak separated them. He tightened his grip, bore down on his nerves and readied to spring as the door slowly creaked open.

He moved before he could think about what the hell he was doing and stuck out his arm.

“Hello? Monty?” Sophie Tanner, the prettiest she-wolf Monty had ever seen and the star of his nightly fantasies, brightened like a sunbeam as she blinked at him. “Flowers. For me?” She gushed over the crumpled bouquet still extended in her direction. “Oh, you’re bleeding.”

The stupid roses had thorns. Trust Rachel, his pride leader’s female, to grow flowers with teeth. Friggin’ cats.

“Come in here and let me have a look.” She took the bouquet from him and led him into her kitchen.

He followed like a docile lamb, willing to do whatever it took to get her hands on him again.

Oh man, he wanted this woman bad. His stomach did somersaults whenever he was around her and his tongue ignored his brain. He’d been unable to ask her out on a date for fear of being rejected again. Him, Monty friggin’ GrayClaw, denied—the thought boggled the mind. It would have been funny if he hadn’t already sensed she was and would be the most important thing in his life. Knowing she had a history almost as rough as his own had slowed his pursuit way down. But Christ on a crutch, Monty was no saint, and waiting two years for her to get settled into town and over her fear of male Ac-taw had worn thin.

The woman needed to overcome her past and deal with him. Tonight. Right now. Before he lost his nerve and bolted for the door. Fuck. Maybe it wasn’t the right time after all…

“Shit.” He swore as cold water stung his scarred palm. Hell, he was marked up like a chew toy. He hoped she didn’t mind a few abrasions…scars…whip marks.

“Big baby,” she teased, a blush on her cheeks. Her gray eyes gleamed like diamonds against skin that saw the sun often. She’d braided her long brown hair down her back, and that thick stuff teased him with images of what it would look like soft around her shoulders and curled around those tantalizing breasts. Not too big, not too small, just perfect to put his hands around…

She gave a polite cough and he brought his head up with a snap, flushing with guilt when she gave him a look.

“I, er, thanks for the water.”

Sophie pried the thorn out of his hand. In a soft voice, she said, “I’m glad you came over. You said you might stop by, but you always…” She cleared her throat and patted his palm with a towel. “The flowers are beautiful.”

Crumpled and smashed, but if she liked them, who was he to say differently? He grinned. “Sure thing. Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

His pridemates would have laughed their asses off at the lame compliment. Grady and Dean, cat pranksters and ladies’ men during their bachelor days, would have tried to work the she-wolf out of her panties on the first date. But Monty wanted more from the gentle wolf than a quick tumble. He wanted kisses and hugs, tenderness, pups…

“Are you okay?” She pressed her small hand to his forehead and he fought not to groan. “You feel hot to me.”

As usual around this particular female, he was hard as a rock and caught between wanting to bend her over for a thorough fuck and defending her from the world—including himself.

The protector, as usual, won out. Monty leaned back, away from her touch, and forced another smile, glad for the jeans that kept him in check. He’d have zipper marks on his dick when he got home, but being around his girl was worth it. Slow and gentle would win the race, or so he kept telling himself.

“I always run hot.” Around you. “I’m good. We going out to dinner, then?” Their first official date. He’d been hanging around her for months. Lending support, just being there, waiting for her to need him. He’d gone so far as to attack a few bears when they’d roughhoused in her grocery store and broken her arm back in March. Accident or not, they’d hurt Sophie and put his animal spirit into a frenzy. His wolf reacting so violently only reaffirmed what he’d already known—Sophie was his.

“I was kind of thinking we could eat here, if that’s okay.” So shy, she ducked her head away after asking.

Monty loved everything about her. That shyness, her soft hands, the way she skirted trouble if she could avoid it. Unlike the sly cats and foxes he lived with in the pride, Sophie didn’t ask for problems. The cats lived to antagonize. The Bermin sisters were as bad about mouthing off when they felt the need. And the foxes had a way of causing innocent mischief that somehow landed trouble at his door. He couldn’t shake the feeling one of the female foxes had sabotaged his last card game. And though Monty sincerely loved his pride leader’s woman, Rachel was pushy, no two ways about it.

So unlike his Sophie. She took his lead when they talked, and if he wished at times she would be a bit more assertive, he also liked the fact she wanted to please. The woman knew her own mind—she just needed patience, kindness and an understanding mate. Monty prayed he could be that wolf, because he didn’t plan on letting anyone else lay claim to her. Sophie Tanner belonged to him, and in time, he’d show her the way.

Sophie smiled at Monty, loving the way he looked at her as if he couldn’t wait to eat her right up. Then, as always, he masked his hunger with a tepid smile and pretended to be sweetness and light. As if she couldn’t see the wild wolf within the quiet man.

Of all the wolves she’d met in her lifetime, she’d never been so taken, so immediately intrigued, as she was with Montgomery GrayClaw. There was an injured fierceness in him that spoke to her on another level. Her animal spirit, the wolf within her, recognized his pain because Sophie had suffered its like. For years she’d thought herself half crazy, able to sense things normal people couldn’t. And her uncle and cousins, her guardians after the death of her parents, had been nothing better than lowdown killers. They took sheer joy in slaughtering innocent life.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to ignore the gruesome pictures that would no doubt haunt her tonight. Lately, she’d had a feeling trouble was coming. Not just to town, but for her specifically.

“Sophie?” Monty stared at her as if he could see inside her.

Not wanting anyone to ever get that far into her mind, she shook her head and gave him a warm smile. “I found a terrific slab of meat at the store. I had Benji cut something special for you.”

Their butcher had a crush on her, but the older bear also had an on-again, off-again relationship with a raptor nearing seventy-five, a few years his junior. Sophie didn’t consider him a threat on any level, for which she was grateful. Lately, the wolves circling her gave her the shivers. Talk about feeling like a piece of meat…

“Benji’s a good guy. For a bear.” Monty nodded. “He likes to pretend to save the good cuts for the cats, but whenever I do the shopping, I bring back better meats than Dean or Grady.” Dean and Grady Chastell, Monty’s pridemates, were younger brothers to the pride leader, Monty’s best friend, Burke. Monty, a wolf, lived with a pride of cats, foxes and a bear. How odd, and how very fitting for the wolf she constantly thought about. He was different, like her. Just another way they fit.

“You probably get the better stuff because you’re one of the few men who never flirted with Benji’s niece. He’s pretty protective of Juneau.”

Monty blinked but said nothing. Why did his silence make her feel like she had her information wrong?

“What can I help you with?” he asked and hustled her into the kitchen. To take her mind off the fact he might have slept with the pretty Kodiak or because he didn’t want her asking questions?

Like he really had to worry about that. As much as Sophie wished she could be more self-confident, like her friends Julia and Gabby, she couldn’t quite work the words past her stiff lips. A lifetime of keeping her thoughts to herself and staying out of sight didn’t go away just because she’d found her place in Cougar Falls. Her last two and a half years had been ideal, but they didn’t make the previous twenty-four fade away.

Now if only a sexy wolf with a hard stare and a mouth to kill for would make a move and distract her. He still gripped her shoulders with a firmness she’d dreamed about. Monty had a bad habit of being too hands-off.

“What can I help you with, Sophie?” he asked again.

“Um, you can make the salad.”

To his credit, he didn’t make a face at the thought of eating rabbit food—what the other wolves usually called the veggie aisle in the store.

While he rinsed the lettuce and cut up some vegetables, they made small talk about the latest tour group he’d taken through Big Mountain, and what they anticipated for the coming months. He worked for Chastell Tours, the pride’s touring company located in Whitefish. She envied him his ability to labor alongside humans without fear, but she preferred Cougar Falls, where only other Ac-taw could visit the town. The magical totem that protected the Ac-taw would keep her uncle from ever finding her. She prayed.

Annoyed to find herself thinking about him again, she focused instead on Monty. What must it be like to live with cats, foxes and bears? She stayed on the outskirts of wolf society, content to associate with other wolves from a distance. But Monty openly preferred non-wolves to the order. She envied his confident dismissal, especially the way he dealt with disapproval from Rafe, the Gray Wolf alpha.

She wished she could be as firm in her decision to remain apart. More like Monty, except not so careful all the time. Frankly, she grew tired of waiting for him to take control of what she hoped might be a burgeoning relationship. She wished she had the guts to plaster herself against his incredible body. He had scars—a lot of them—and from what she’d gathered, Ac-taw rarely scarred unless they’d been through serious damage. His marks were a testament to his strength and made her want him all the more.

Heck, she’d love to kiss him until she forgot her own name.

With a subtlety she’d mastered long ago, she watched him work, absorbing the grace of his long-fingered hands, the flex and play of his broad back and thickly muscled arms. The man had a tapered waist she was dying to measure, and an impressive ass she’d giggled about over mojitos with her friends a time or two.

“Where should I put all this?” He showed her the colander full of wet lettuce alongside a cutting board full of carrots, cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes—enough to feed an army.

She bit her lip and hoped he hadn’t seen her ogling his butt. “The, ah, that bowl up there.” She pointed to a shelf above him, wondering how he thought they’d eat all that salad.

Forget the lettuce, Monty. Kiss me. Touch me with the passion you’re hiding all the time.

He turned with the ceramic bowl in hand and froze. “Sophie?” He didn’t blink as he watched her.

Good Lord, he’d probably smelled her arousal. She felt like an idiot. She watched enough X-rated movies to know how the professionals handled this sort of thing. The telling music, the nudity, weird scenarios and all the female howling while partners pleasured one another all over the place—Sophie knew the score. But she didn’t have the experience, let alone double D-size breasts or thighs that could spread like a wishbone, to take on Monty. And as much as he looked like sex on a stick, this particular wolf spooked if she walked too near.

She sighed. “Thanks, Monty. I’ll get the steaks.” She stuck her head in the refrigerator and tried to pull herself together while she searched for the meat. She knew she only had herself to blame for Monty’s distance.

When she’d first arrived in Cougar Falls, she’d been in shock and terrified of herself and everyone around her. Living without knowing what she really was, and whom she’d been living with for so long, had devastated her. Theo Sheridan had saved her life and her sanity. She owed him, big time. But the stubborn man refused to accept her gratitude—a lot like the wolf in her kitchen, so close and yet so far away from her.

As she withdrew the meat and stuck it on a broiler pan, Monty dumped the salad fixings in the bowl and propped his back against the counter.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Nope. I just like to watch you work.”

Stupid heat once again rushed to her cheeks, and she shoved the broiler pan into the oven while he studied her. With comments like that, he had to like her, didn’t he? He’d even serenaded her at the pride a few weeks ago, where she often went for some girl time and a movie with her friends. For some odd reason, Monty seemed fascinated by Scooby Doo. Months ago, she’d found a stuffed dog on her front porch wearing a bandana of his, his scent layered over the stuffed toy. She’d thought maybe he’d finally ask her out.

And nothing.

Still, she’d loved it, and she slept with the thing nightly. That was as much action as she wanted from any male, stuffed or real, unless Monty was prepared to give her something else. She desired him, but she worried she wanted more than he did. When she’d first arrived to town, he’d asked her to coffee a time or two, but she’d been too scared of her own shadow to accept. Months had gone by, and he’d never asked again.

She’d tried to deepen their friendship with a few hints, but he’d never acted on any of her invitations to join her. Instead he offered friendship without strings, which she’d appreciated. At first. Now she wanted a closer relationship. But how to get Monty to see that? Because if he didn’t think of her in a romantic sense, she’d feel worse than stupid. She’d be devastated.

A glance at him made her jumpy. The dang man made her feel like prey. If he’d try to kiss her or be a bit clearer about his intentions, she’d find it easier to be open about what she wanted.

Gabby had flat-out told her she’d never reel in a male as strong as Monty if she couldn’t talk about her needs, a problem the feline had recently gone through when dealing with Grady, her new mate.

Sophie was good at learning from other people’s mistakes. She herself didn’t have an exciting social life, and she had next to zero sexual experience. One kiss in her entire twenty-six years. And that by a man she’d then—

Inwardly, she cringed. She wouldn’t think about that now. Like Theo had repeatedly told her, she had to stop blaming herself for the past and look to the future. One she very much wanted to share with Monty.

She took a deep breath and resolved to let him know how she felt. She could do it. Many of the men in town called her pretty. The gray wolves were constantly coming by the grocery store. She’d been asked out on more dates than she knew what to do with, but she’d been holding out for a particular wolf, one with an icy blue-gray stare that for some reason made her hot whenever he turned it on her.

“What’s that look?” Monty asked, his gaze narrowed.

To her excited surprise, he lingered on her mouth before pulling that mask back over his face.

She parted her lips to speak, to tell him what she wanted—for him to make her a woman. To show her what loving could be like. To finally take that step and end the naughty fantasies she’d never before experienced outside of her secret movie stash.

He took a step closer. “Sophie?” His voice sounded low, growly, as if his wolf had taken a step with him.

And then a familiar song sounded from outside her house, and the moment was lost. More references to a cartoon dog and his mystery-solving friends sung by cats sadly out of tune.

She should have been angrier about the interruption, but the cowardly woman inside her knew relief. She could once again hide from the predator waiting to pounce. That and she felt a nervous laugh coming out at the astonished, then resigned, look on his face.

“And before you ask, no, I didn’t do this. Wooing you with a cartoon character had never been my plan.” Monty pinched the bridge of his nose and headed for the front door. Over his shoulder, he muttered, “I’ll be right back,” and left, closing the door quietly in his wake.

Wooing her? Did he mean it, or was he referring to the pride’s many pranks at his expense? She heard snarls and hisses and much laughter from voices she recognized as belonging to Monty’s pridemates. A wolf among cats. It still sounded funny every time she considered his home. She shook her head and listened to the three of them growling at each other. Grady and Dean always treated her with respect and a wary distance she appreciated. Unlike Monty, she imagined they saw the killer in her eyes. They knew not to underestimate her.

But Monty only saw what he wanted to see. She hoped like hell she could keep that veil between her life now and the one she’d escaped. Because if anyone here knew what she’d once done, her safe haven in Cougar Falls would disappear. And then she’d be right back where she’d started—on the run and facing sure death at the hands of Hunters.

Monty returned shortly. His hair looked a little mussed and his shirt had come untucked. He never looked better to her than he did when rumpled.

Unable to help herself, Sophie stepped close and ran her fingers over his forehead. A bold move, but he didn’t push her away. She tucked his long black-and-gray bangs behind his ears. His shaggy, shoulder-length hair always looked in need of a cut, but she liked it that way. Oh my God, I’m touching Monty GrayClaw.

He caught her hand in his and cupped it against his cheek. Then he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he opened them, she saw his wolf staring at her for a split second before he disappeared. Her wolf inwardly whined to join him, but Sophie wouldn’t go where she hadn’t been invited. She simply wasn’t made that way.

When Monty released her hand, she dropped it to her side.

He blew out a breath. “How about that steak you promised me? I worked up an appetite.”

“Kicking cat butt can do that.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it can.”

They settled into dinner at her table, where she’d dithered for an hour before he’d arrived. Afraid he might get the right idea and know how much she desired to increase the intimacy between them, she’d stashed the candles. Instead, she used a vase as the centerpiece, where she’d put the flowers he’d brought her.

The raggedly things looked right between them. A gesture of Monty’s affection…and not just politeness, she hoped.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in months. Don’t tell Rachel this, but the woman isn’t the best cook. Maggie’s not bad.” Joel’s—the bear’s—wife. “But dessert’s her thing.”

“What about the other cats?”

“Dean and Grady act like they’re all thumbs anytime anyone mentions cooking, and their mates are just as bad. The foxes help if asked, but Rachel’s pretty territorial. She doesn’t want Burke screwing up her kitchen, so it’s pretty much just her and Maggie. The Miami cats are hopeless.” He meant the other female cats that had recently joined the pride. Their brother had apparently left, according to town gossip.

“What’s it like with so many cats there now? It used to just be the Chastells. Now you have four more women.” Females living close to Monty. She didn’t like that. Not one bit.

“Three, actually. Joy is still down in Miami.” He frowned. “But none of her sisters have heard from her in a while. I think there’s more trouble brewing than we know about.”

She paused. Trouble and Monty seemed to go hand in hand. “Will they need your help?” From what she knew about Monty, he could track anything anywhere. Even the gray wolf alpha turned to him when real trouble hit close to home.

“Maybe. I’m pride. Whatever’s needed, I’ll do. Even if the Miami cats are slow to settle in, they’re family.”

“Oh, right.” Being an outsider, she wasn’t used to belonging. The order allowed her latitude because she still had issues with other wolves. But she knew the time was coming when they’d insist she start looking for a mate. With the low number of she-wolves in town, Sophie brought more than just another Shifter to Cougar Falls. She brought the possibility of a new generation of wolves with her.

Her gaze caught Monty’s. What would it be like to belong to someone who had that sense of loyalty? Who would always have her back and make sure she never wanted for anything?

“Can I help you clear the table?” Monty was moving before she could answer.

She refused to let him do any dishes. Instead, she sliced him up a plate of his favorite dessert—New York-style cheesecake with cherries on top.

“Man, Sophie. You are the absolute best.”

Monty ate up half the pie, and she wrapped the rest for him to take home. They adjourned to the living room and shared the couch, though he took one end and she the other. They watched a few sitcoms as the evening turned into night.

She had hopes, though his gaze continued to stray toward the clock in her living room. The silence between them grew strained while her need to kiss him grew stronger. Her wolf badgered her to take what she wanted, telling her that she’d waited for him long enough.

But when she tried to breach the distance between them, Monty shot off the couch as if he’d been prodded with a branding iron.

“Damn. It’s getting late. I’d best be going.”

Of course he had to be going. Every time she gathered her courage to blurt out how she felt, he left. The mixed signals baffled her. Did he like her or not? Because right now, he definitely put out stay away vibes.

“Don’t forget your pie.”

He smiled. “Like I could forget that.”

While he moved to the kitchen to retrieve it, she acted like the perfect hostess and waited for him by the front door. “Thanks for coming over, Monty. It meant a lot to me.”

“Me too, Soph.” The gravity of his response surprised her.

“Monty?”

Then he kissed her on the forehead and left before she could blink. She said good night to his back and shut the door, left alone to dirty dishes, a rerun of Jeopardy and a lonely heart once more.