Mismatched: Shotgun Falls Shifters, #1

By Ava Benton and Libby Bernard

Charlotte Perkins loves Shotgun Falls. Always has. Loves the town. Loves the people. So when shop owner Sylvia Redferne asks her to help her test a new dating app, she doesn't think twice about spearheading the operation. What Charlotte hadn't counted on?

 

Logan Fourier.

 

Logan's a wolf shifter that's damned good on computers. He doesn't mind doing Sylvia Redferne a favor and building a dating app. Who would, considering how much Sylvia's offering to pay him for his services. What Logan hadn't counted on?

 

Charlotte's a spitfire with a tough shell. How's he supposed to crack that shell when she thinks he's an alphahole instead of an alpha.

 

Things don't go so well when he decides to create a dummy account and fools her into falling for his alter ego. Things really go to hell in a handbasket when the secret he's been harboring resurfaces.

 

Can busybody Sylvia Redferne help this couple find their way back to each other or have Logan's bullheadedness and Charlotte's defenses put up more obstacles than a witch stripped of her powers can handle?

• Language: English
• Publisher: ABP
• Release date: Mar 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393823384

Book preview

1

It was a cold January day when Logan Fourier walked into Sylvia Redferne’s antique bookstore in the heart of Shotgun Falls, Colorado.

He didn’t quite walk in. A sudden gust of wind blew him into the store, almost like it pushed him from behind.

What the hell?

He stumbled inside, amazed that anything could knock him off his feet that way. He wasn’t exactly the biggest wolf shifter he’d ever known, but he was no pushover.

Though the bell hanging over the door had chimed, there was no one around to greet him. The store was empty except for the stacks and piles and shelves of books. Old books. Some of them smelled downright ancient, carrying the odors of hundreds of years. Smoke and food and mildew, so many scents like a cloud in the shop.

But it was nice, somehow. Comforting. People had owned these books and read them again and again, leaving fingerprints and wearing down the edges of the pages. Where had the books been? Who had loved them? How had they ended up here, in this bookstore?

He knew how they’d ended up here. He sure as hell did. Sylvia had her ways. A faint smile tugged at the corners of Logan’s mouth when he thought this. She might’ve been stripped of her witch powers ages ago, but she sure as hell had her ways.

How long had it been since he last saw her? Not in years, probably. Logan had his reasons for flying under the radar. The phone call from Sylvia had come as a surprise, especially since his number wasn’t exactly listed publicly.

Again. Sylvia and her ways.

She had a job for him, or so she said. She knew he was into internet things. An understatement, so out-of-touch it was almost cute. He’d laughed aloud when she’d said that.

Not that he thought there was much to what she wanted. He hadn’t lived his many years to end up that naïve. Probably a website for the store, something like that. A lot simpler and safer than some of the internet things he’d been up to in the past, that was for damned sure.

Hello? His voice echoed in the empty store.

The door hadn’t been locked. Somebody had to be there. Sure, he picked up the scent of someone nearby. Female. Not human, but not shifter. That could only mean one thing. Sylvia was around somewhere.

She’d done a nice job decorating the place. It had a homey sort of feeling to it, with velvet couches and chairs, old-fashioned lamps with silk shades and dangling cut glass beads. She’d put in an espresso machine, too, a whole little nook where customers could order coffee and tea and pastries. The smell drew him in.

Don’t you dare touch a thing, Logan Fourier.

He turned with a smile to find Sylvia watching him from the second floor. It was open up there, looking down on the first floor, with books lining the walls.

She rested her hands on the heavy, wooden banister which ran along the length of the upstairs walkways. I see everything, you know.

I know you do. I should’ve wandered over here sooner. You might’ve shown yourself before now. He slid his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. It was more a style choice than a matter of comfort. Shifters didn’t feel things as keenly as humans did. The cold had never bothered him much, any more than it bothered his wolf.

I call the boy to tell him I have a job opportunity for him, and he has the nerve to chastise me. She shook her head, clicking her tongue. Your manners haven’t improved much with time.

He watched her descend the stairs. The years had been good to her, even without her powers. Maybe witches aged slowly with or without their abilities intact. Sylvia still seemed like she carried an energy around her, something that set her apart. There was magic somewhere in her.

She wore her long. Black hair in a braid wound around the back of her head. Her dress—also black—was loose, flowing, and it swirled around her ankles as she walked. The crystal beads of her and necklaces gleamed even in the dim light. She hadn’t raised the shades yet, so the store was full of shadows.

Now that he saw her close-up, he found faint evidence of the years that had passed. A gray streak at her temples, lines at the corners of her wide, silvery eyes. Eyes that didn’t miss a single thing. He remembered her catching him at mischief more than once when he was a kid.

What can I do for you? She stood a foot shorter than him. After decades of being the smaller one, the child, the pup, he enjoyed making her look up when she talked to him.

And when she dissected him, like she was doing at that moment. You look tired. You haven’t been sleeping enough.

Could be.

And you’re sleeping in too many different places. This she delivered with a frown.

He nodded while fighting back a grin. Possibly. It wasn’t exactly legal in their world to mate with humans, but he wasn’t trying to mate with them. He was trying to get laid. A big difference, and he was hardly the only one who did it.

That’s neither here nor there, I suppose. After sinking into a deep purple sofa, she gestured to the armchair next to her. Sit. Let’s get down to business.

He did as she asked. The sooner they got to it, the better. It was eerie, the way she looked at him. Like she knew something he didn’t, was in on a joke nobody had clued him into. Okay. You lead.

I’m looking for a website.

He refrained from gloating. I thought so. For the store?

No.

Oh. Hmm. Something for the town?

Well, eventually. But not just yet. We’ll start smaller for now.

Smaller for now. Why are you being so cryptic about this? Just come out and tell me what you want me to build. You know I got this.

Which is why you were the first one who came to mind. She leaned forward, arms folded on top of her thighs, dropping her voice to a whisper, even though they were the only two people in the store. I need you to build a dating website. You know what I mean. One of those things where people meet up.

He’d asked himself maybe a hundred times since her phone call what she could have in mind, but this? It took effort to hold back the laugh that wanted to burst out. She’d take that as an insult. Which, alright, yeah, it sort of would be. A dating website. What, you don’t break enough hearts already?

She waved him off. Not for me. That part of my life is long over. He knew she’d pretty much adopted a solitary lifestyle after her mate was killed, which was the way things went for most shifters. He didn’t figure it was that way for most stripped, banished, denounced witches. Was lost love that powerful? He wouldn’t know.

"For whom, then? People of a certain age?"

So diplomatic of you. When she smiled, the years melted away. No. For the younger generation. Your kind.

He stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankle with a sigh. Now that he knew what this was about, he could afford to relax. Since when does my generation need help dating? You’re the one who just a few minutes ago—if I remember correctly—chided me for sleeping around. He so wanted to call her a ball buster but was sure that wouldn’t go over too well.

My idea involves matching those of your kind with others of your kind. You haven’t paid close attention to the problems in Shotgun Falls, have you?

I didn’t know we had problems.

I thought so. Point blank, there just aren’t enough females to go around. Female shifters, that is. We have an almost two-to-one ratio around here.

I had no idea.

And since shifter law establishes that shifters can only mate with shifters… She lifted her shoulders. We could be facing a real population problem before long. The ancient bloodlines are in danger of dying out. Kristoff wouldn’t have liked that. After all these years, her voice caught on the sound of her mate’s name.

It was because she mentioned him that Logan didn’t bother asking why this meant so much. She wasn’t a shifter, after all. She had no children. The closest she’d ever come was the children of the shifters who’d sheltered her after Kristoff’s death. Normally, she would’ve been thrown into the wild and barred from ever being part of the Colorado enclave. A witch who’d given up her powers in the name of true love would’ve been no match for the cruel world, even with her late husband’s wealth to fall back on.

The thought of those women, the shifters who’d taken Sylvia in as part of their family, brought everything together. You want to match your friends’ sons up with other shifters, is that it?

She shrugged, unfazed. Is that so wrong? But of course, it would have to be something we shared only among ourselves. Exclusive, private. To the rest of the world, shifters are a legend. Like aliens and Bigfoot.

An exclusive dating website for shifters. He thought about this, considered the logistics. Not a bad idea. And a way of connecting shifters from Shotgun Falls with those all over the country, in their own towns and villages.

You get it. Sylvia beamed. I knew you would. Now. What would it take to tackle a project of this size?

How much money have you got?

You mean, what’s my budget?

No. I mean how much money have you got?

She clicked her tongue like a disapproving elder, but she couldn’t hide a smile. You haven’t changed.

2

One of the things Charlotte Perkins liked best about quirky, charming Shotgun Falls was the way they’d named their streets. Wolf Street was the biggest, the most popular, lined on both sides by cute shops, cafes, boutiques. Then there was Tiger Street, Bear, Fox, all named for animals.

Megan snickered from behind Charlotte as they crossed Wolf Street. You know how Char geeks out over Sylvia’s.

Hope piped up, too. We might as well sleep here, since it’s where we always end up.

Charlotte shot her a warning look. Tell me you don’t like it there, too.

Of course she does. That was Olivia, walking further back. She’s just pissy because she wants to go shopping. Like there aren’t a million places to shop in Denver. Or, you know, the entire internet. She let out a tiny yelp which meant Hope had probably taken a playful swing at her.

Listen. Charlotte came to a stop a few doors down from the bookstore and turned to her friends. We don’t have to hang out there if you don’t want to. It’s sort of our thing, though, so I figured we would.

Hope shook her head. I’m just grumpy because of the night I had on that lumpy mattress.

Audra nudged her. I told you, you could’ve shared my bed.

Hope nudged Audra back. Right. With the way you kick? It’s like a kung-fu movie. No, thank you.

She’d much rather make the rest of us miserable all day with her whining. Megan slid an arm through Hope’s.

All right, all right. Charlotte held up her hands, looking at her closest friends. If you don’t all wanna go inside, you don’t have to. But I was sort of looking forward to sitting with you, too. We do our best talking in the store.

It was the truth, too, and the way their expressions changed told her they knew it. While the five of them had been best friends all through college—closer than sisters—real life and jobs and responsibilities pulled them further apart with each passing year. Chatting via group text wasn’t the same as spending time together.

Hence their monthly Girls Only weekends, always spent in that charming little town. It had been their getaway spot for years, ever since a road trip had left them broken down on the side of the road. The nearest garage had been in Shotgun Falls, and a love story was born.

At least, it was for Charlotte. Just why the town gripped her imagination the way it did was a mystery she didn’t feel the need to solve. One day, when she worked for herself, she’d move here. It was one of those far-off dreams she went back to whenever life got too exhausting.

I was just teasing. Let’s go. Megan turned Charlotte by the shoulders and nudged her forward while the others followed.

There was a sense of coming home when she walked in. Inexplicable, just like her love for the town. A sense of calm and peace washed over her, and it looked like her friends felt the same way, laughing and teasing as they looked around for a place to settle down.

Oh, welcome. The owner approached with a smile, arms outstretched. Some of my favorites. You brighten up the place and make me feel young.

Which is saying something, coming from her. One of the middle-aged women sitting on the other side of the room winked and flashed Sylvia a devilish grin that got the rest of her group laughing.

The shop’s owner waved a hand toward her friends while they continued to laugh. Don’t listen to them. Considering that they’re all dying to be grandmothers, they have a lot of nerve, laughing at another woman’s age. She invited them to take seats and get comfortable before returning to her friends.

Olivia slid out of her coat, one eye on the group across the room. Will that be us one day?

Megan snorted at this. We should be so lucky. Charlotte knew what she meant. Every one of those women were gorgeous, poster children for aging gracefully. They were healthy and glowing, well-dressed, energetic. They’d been around during past visits, she recalled, and they seemed like a fun bunch.

Inevitably, once the girls settled in and had their coffees, the conversation turned to a familiar subject.

So, that was that. Hope threw her hands into the air. He was perfect on paper and a dud everywhere else. At least it was only a coffee date.

Megan nodded slowly, knowingly. "I only start off with