Carnal Intents

By Erin Lee

Love & lust are precarious sentiments strong enough to summon wolves to deadly hunts and break bonds of blood. They will tug at wills and seek revenge; emotions powerful enough to bring restless spirits back from death.

Meet three unlikely, shifty couples with the supernatural abilities to destroy or redeem one another and three things in common:Love, lust and carnal intents…

Will the cravings win?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crazy Ink
• Release date: Mar 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201342210

Erin Lee

Erin Lee lives in Queensland, Australia and has been working with children for over 25 years. She has worked in both long day care and primary school settings and has a passion for inclusive education and helping all children find joy in learning. Erin has three children of her own and says they have helped contribute ideas and themes towards her quirky writing style. Her experience working in the classroom has motivated her to write books that bring joy to little readers, but also resource educators to help teach fundamental skills to children, such as being safe, respectful learners.

Book preview

Part One

Chapter One

Claire Bryson lifted her head and glared at the screaming alarm clock on her nightstand. She didn’t need to look to know where the snooze button was located. This had been her morning routine for the past five years; she had it down to a science.

With a quickness that belied her sleepy state, she tapped the top of the clock to shut off the noise and buried her face back into the fluffy softness of her pillow. The five extra minutes of sleep she would get was as precious to her as gold.

Too soon, the annoying beeping shattered the silence of her room once again.

Will you shut that shit off already? It’s Sunday, for crying out loud. Her roommate’s voice drifted across the hall in a muffled growl, penetrating Claire’s sleep-fogged brain.

Groping around for the cord to the little black box of nightmares, Claire gave it a yank, silencing it in mid-beep. Sunday was the only day of the week Scruples was closed and she didn’t have to roll out of bed with the chickens.

Claire’s grandfather, Dexter Bryson, had opened the café in 1920 during the Depression. He’d later been informed after several instances of ghost sightings that the eatery was built on an ancient Indian burial ground. Dexter hadn’t been a superstitious man, but he’d seen things that couldn’t be explained, such as shadows passing through the kitchen when no one else should have been there but him, or strange, electrical charges when certain people darkened the door.

He’d somehow managed to keep Bryson’s Cafe afloat until it began to flourish and later passed it on to Charles, his only son, in 1988. Dexter lost the battle with cancer when Claire was a young teenager, and her father had died soon after from the same dreaded disease.

Sarina, Claire’s mother, struggled to maintain the café on her own until Claire was forced to drop out of college and return home to help. Sarina had opted to close the doors or sell the place, but Charles had left it to his daughter in his will, and Claire wouldn’t hear of it.

Her mother had drilled it into her since she’d been a small child to get out of Walton County and make a name for herself. Sarina had enlisted her daughter in every beauty pageant and play the town had to offer. Claire had been groomed for entertaining at an early age. It was ingrained in her.

If she could only find a balance, she thought as she rolled to her back and threw an arm over her face. She’d considered asking Victoria to run things in her absence if opportunity came knocking at her door.

As much as she loved her home in DeFuniak Springs, Florida, Claire’s dream of leaving the small town behind and settling in California to start a modeling career was still alive, but fading by the day. She was twenty-eight years old, and crow’s feet would be arriving soon for an unwelcome stay.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her lot in life, and having roots in Walton County gave her a sense of belonging. The locals were big-hearted, hard-working, and giving. That didn’t mean a few weren’t slightly nosy and clannish. On the contrary. Several of them were usually parked in her business like gnats at a barbeque. They had their faults as with any other small community, but they meant well.

Claire remodeled the café shortly after taking it over. The overall facelift of the place increased the value, and changing the name from Bryson’s to Scruples just felt right somehow. It boasted of a small, elegant bar up front with a restaurant in the back. They served everything from home-cooked meals at lunch to fine dining in the evenings. It was a favorite among the locals, and people came from all over to eat there.

A soft noise caught her attention, and she strained to listen. What the hell?

The sound came again, only louder, followed by a moan and a few other unmentionables. It became abundantly clear that her roommate had company, and they weren’t making biscuits.

With a sigh of frustration, Claire covered her head with a pillow and faced the wall opposite of the obvious copulation taking place across the hall.

Victoria Blanchard had been Claire’s closest friend since kindergarten. The two of them were inseparable. Victoria’s life hadn’t been a bed of roses, but she’d made the best of it and never stopped smiling.

Leaving Tori behind to attend college in Alabama had been hard on Claire, but they’d spent every spare moment they could texting and visiting on weekends. Troy State University being less than two hours away had made things easier on both of them.

A feminine chuckle suddenly interrupted Claire’s trip down memory lane. It came as no surprise that Victoria had found something humorous, anymore than the male cursing or doors slamming shortly after did.

Claire rolled to her back in anticipation of the details that were sure to come. She didn’t have long to wait before the door was thrown open to admit a disheveled Tori wearing a man’s T-shirt and a smirk. Her pretty blonde hair had fallen from a clip on one side, giving her a teenage appearance.

Are you sleeping? she asked from the open doorway.

Claire squinted against the light spilling from the hall bathroom. Between the alarm, the live porn, and needing to pee worse than I can ever remember, I’d say I’m awake.

Victoria grinned and marched into the room without preamble. She plopped down next to Claire on the bed. Slide, Clyde.

After making room for the flamboyant blonde, Claire closed her eyes and hid a smile. Whom do I owe the pleasure of this morning’s entertainment?

Justin. And I must say it wasn’t very entertaining for me.

I thought you guys broke up last week? She cracked her lids open and glanced at Victoria.

We did.

Then why? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. What was the fight about this time?

He wanted me on top, facing him. Victoria responded like they were discussing the weather.

Claire couldn’t fight her smile any longer. She turned onto her side, propping her head on her palm. You fought over who was on top?

He knows I don’t like that position with him.

Why not? Claire couldn’t wait to hear the explanation for that one.

His penis is bent.

Bent? Wait...what? You mean curved? Most men are curved, aren’t they?

No. I mean bent, as in straight down.

A chuckle bubbled up with the visual Tori created, and Claire fell back in a fit of side-splitting laughter. She laughed until tears ran from the corners of her eyes. It took several attempts to get her next question out. Does it resemble Gonzo’s nose?

Not funny, Victoria scolded with a grin. And before you say anything else, I’m not making fun of him; I’m only pointing out the facts.

Really, Tori? What would that be?

It’s painful at that angle.

So, then turn around and face away from him.

That is exactly what I wanted to do, and it pissed him off. I don’t get it, Claire. Most men love that position. But not Justin. He thinks I do it to stay detached. Victoria shook her head. What a girl.

Are you sure there isn’t some truth to that? Claire asked in a soft voice.

Of course not. I told you why.

Yes. Bent dick. Got it.

Both women chuckled a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. It had always been that way with Victoria. Even in bad times they’d managed to laugh or simply be still, neither of them speaking. Just being together was enough.

Can I stay in here for a while?

Of course. Claire smiled and turned on her side. But you gotta rub my hair.

How did I know that was coming?

Chapter Two

Claire cracked her eyes open on a jaw-popping yawn. The morning sun shone through the blinds in a brilliant glow of golden warmth. A rooster crowed in the distance, signaling a wakeup call older than time.

I vote we shoot him. A lot, Victoria mumbled from her position under a mound of covers.

Claire lips twitched. We’re not killing the rooster unless you want to pluck him and fire up the grill.

I just had my nails done or I’d be on him like white on rice.

Saved by a French manicure, Claire quipped. I’m going to jump in the shower; Missy’s wedding is at noon. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand only to recall she’d unplugged it earlier that morning.

Victoria’s sleepy face appeared from beneath the blankets. It’s too early to get up. Go back to sleep.

I can’t. I haven’t been to the bathroom yet, and my bladder feels like an overfilled water balloon.

Okay. Wake me up when you emerge from your shower.

No deal. It’s your turn to make breakfast, Cinderella. Claire slid out of bed and stumbled from the room with a string of curses echoing behind her.

JAXON SANDERS STRAIGHTENED his tie and ran a hand through his dark hair. He hated weddings almost as much as he hated funerals. They were emotional moments in time he’d rather not be a part of. The only reason he’d agreed to attend Kent and Missy’s nuptials had to do with a small brunette named Claire Bryson.

He stepped into his boots, grabbed his Stetson, and headed out the door to his truck. The big, black Chevy sported a layer of dust despite recently being washed.

The joys of living on a dirt road, Jaxon mused as he climbed inside and started the engine. He never bothered to remove the keys; no one would steal from him anyway. Between the amount of weapons he possessed and the two wolves that ran loose on his property, he lived a pretty crime-free life.

Jaxon rolled down the window and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Kojak. Alabama. A massive wolf came bounding out of the barn with a slightly smaller one right on his heels. The two muscular animals skidded to a stop next to the truck in a jumble of dust and legs.

On watch. Both wolves leapt onto the porch to take up their usual positions when guarding the house.

I’ll be back shortly, Jaxon muttered as he donned his Ray-Bans. He rolled up the window, put the truck in gear, and backed out of the yard.

The long, bumpy drive to the main road was littered with potholes and mud due to the all-night rain. Jaxon drove along the edge to avoid as much of the mess as possible while trying to stay out of the ditch. He had ten minutes to make it to the church before the wedding started. He’d arrive in five, he thought with a grin.

JAXON GLANCED AT HIS watch as he pulled into the parking lot of First Baptist Church and switched off the engine. He’d made it with a couple of minutes to spare but not enough time for a smoke. He looked longingly at the pack of cigarettes lying on the seat before jumping out and easing the door shut behind him.

Sounds of the wedding march spilling out into the foyer could be heard as Jaxon entered the building. He rushed through the big wooden doors that led into the tabernacle just seconds ahead of the bride, and grabbed a seat in the back row.

All eyes were on him. Maybe because he’d nearly mowed a bridesmaid down on his way in. It couldn’t possibly be because my dumb ass is still wearing this big cowboy hat and Gary Allen’s latest hit, It Ain’t the Whiskey, just belted out from my cell. No, it couldn’t be that.

Jaxon silenced his phone and removed his hat. It didn’t take him long to spot Claire sitting on the other side of the isle a few rows up. She resembled something out of a magazine with her long, dark hair flowing down her back and a red dress that clung to her like a second skin. He could only imagine what she’d look like standing. He didn’t have long to wait.

Everyone stood as the bride made her grand entrance. But Jaxon only had eyes for Claire. He’d been right in his assessment of her attire. The dress molded to her breasts, hugged her hips, and ended inches above her knees. He found her breathtaking, but she was oblivious to that fact. She thought of him as a brother. Jaxon Sanders, the most eligible bachelor in Walton County had been friendzoned.

Claire must have felt him staring. She met his gaze and sent him a wink. His heart skipped a beat, but he managed to return the gesture without drooling. He hoped.

Time seemed to drag by for Jaxon. After checking his watch for the tenth time, he decided to step outside for a smoke. Between babies crying and the minister droning on about sickness and in health in that drive-a-man-insane monotone voice he had, Jaxon was ready to pull his hair out.

You may kiss the bride, the preacher announced from the podium.

Jaxon grabbed his hat without waiting for the exchange and made a beeline for the doors. He didn’t stop until he reached his truck. He jerked the door open, snatched up his pack of cigarettes, and patted his pockets for a lighter.

You’re going to light up in the church parking lot? Victoria spoke from behind him.

He spun around in surprise. Shit. Where did you come from?

Now you’re cursing on sacred grounds. You’re going to hell, Jaxon Sanders.

I’m sorry. I—

Victoria laughed. I’m kidding. Lighten up, Goliath.

Her nickname for him had started in high school shortly after his growth spurt. He’d been six-foot-five by graduation and hadn’t stopped growing until his early twenties.

Are you coming to the house for lunch? Tori looked everywhere but at him. She seemed nervous to Jaxon, shifty eyed and tense.

I wasn’t invited.

You just were.

Well, then I guess I am. He glanced over his shoulder to see what had her so skittish, but there was no one there. Are you all right?

What? Yes, I’m fine. I hear Claire. You’d better put those things away. She nodded toward the pack of cigarettes. You know how she feels about them.

He did know. Claire’s father and grandfather had both died from cancer at a fairly young age. Ironically enough, neither of them had been smokers.

Jaxon tossed his red and white pack of addiction onto the seat of his truck, and watched the object of his affection approach. She’s even more beautiful in the sunlight. He looked away before she caught him staring.

Claire came to a stop next to Victoria. I didn’t know your mom and dad would be here.

Neither did I, Victoria responded before stepping back. We better get going. I’m starved.

Aren’t you going to say hello to them? Jaxon noticed the tension coming from the blonde.

Victoria ran a hand through her hair. I’ll call them when I get home. They’re probably over there arguing anyway.

Are you coming to the house, Jaxon? It’s Tori’s turn to cook. Claire grinned.

Well, since Victoria’s cooking, I reckon I will.

Kiss my ass, Jaxon Sanders, Claire teased.

Potty mouth, Victoria scolded. You’re both going to hell.

Jaxon laughed and climbed into his truck. I’ll see you at the house.

Chapter Three

Victoria was unusually quiet on the drive home. Claire wondered how much of it had to do with Justin. She glanced over at her close-lipped friend and frowned. Out with it.

Out with what?

Something’s wrong with you, I can feel it. You may as well tell me, or I’ll bring it up every five minutes until you’re ready to strangle me.

That brought a smile to Victoria’s face. It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about this morning.

I’m sorry about Justin, but you can do so much better than him.

Can I? Victoria’s soft voice held a wealth of insecurity.

Of course you can. You are so beautiful and smart. Not to mention funny as hell. You’re young, honey. Someone will come along with a straight penis and sweep you right off your stilettos.

I can deal with a slight curve, as long it’s east to west.

It’s settled then. A full-on curvature inspection will take place from here on out. And not by me.

You’re insane, Claire. Literally.

Yes, well, it’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.

What about Jaxon? Victoria raised an eyebrow.

I doubt he would want the job as penis inspector either, but we can certainly ask.

That’s not what I meant and you know it. Tori grinned.

I have no idea what Jaxon’s package looks like.

You are so full of shit. As many times as he’s stayed at the house—slept in your bed even—you’ve never seen him nude?

Heat spread up Claire’s neck to settle in her cheeks. "I may have peeked once or twice.

Ah-ha. I knew it.

Claire went into defense mode. It wasn’t like that. I was drinking at the time and just curious. Can we talk about something else?

No, we can’t. The man’s in love with you, Dork. You’re either leading him on or—

I’m not leading him on, okay? Jaxon’s the sweetest, most gorgeous, decent man I’ve ever met.

Then what’s the problem?

Claire hit the brakes, and pulled off the side of the road. She knew Victoria was right in her assessment of the situation with Jaxon Sanders. But no matter how much Claire cared for the man, they could never be together. His father would see to that, she thought with a pang of regret.

She turned in her seat to face Victoria. I want out of this small town. I have dreams that are bigger than anything I can find here. I’ve never known anyone like Jaxon, but his home is here. His family, friends, business, all here. I can’t ask him to give that up for me and move to a big city where he wouldn’t be happy. It would slowly destroy him, and ultimately, us.

Is that what you really want?

Anxiety tightened Claire’s gut. She hedged. It’s what I’ve always wanted, you know that.

You’re sure it’s not what your mother wants?

What’s that supposed to mean? Indignation replaced regret. Mom only wants what’s best for me, and so do I. There are more opportunities for me in California, Tori. There’s something bigger out there. I just have to find it. She hated lying to Victoria, but some things couldn’t be divulged. No matter how much she wanted to scream it to the world.

Okay, don’t get your thong in a bunch. I just want you to be happy, and I hate to see you running from something that most people would kill for. I sure wish I had a man look at me the way Jaxon looks at you.

I think you’re seeing things. Jaxon and I are friends, nothing more.

Keep telling yourself that, Victoria retorted.

This conversation is over. With a sigh of resignation, Claire pulled back onto the road and headed toward home.

Chapter Four

Jaxon fished out his cell from the console of his truck. He’d been sitting in Claire’s driveway for the past five minutes alone. The women had left ahead of him, and he’d taken his time arriving so he could smoke. They should have been here by now.

Claire’s small red sports car rounded the corner just as he was about to call her. She pulled up next to his truck and got out. Victoria followed suit with a twinkle in her eyes, grinning up at Jaxon as he perched on the edge of his seat with one leg hanging out the door.

Hungry, Sanders?

Yes, ma’am. I’m about to go down on one knee. He glanced at Claire as she bounded up the steps to the big Victorian-style house, and disappeared inside without a backward glance.

That cat over there was beginning to look like a steak. You got here just in time. He nodded toward the black furball lounging on the porch.

Victoria chuckled. Come on. I’ll hook you up.

With the cat?

If you do the dishes after dinner.

Jaxon slid from the truck and trailed after the sarcastic blonde. He preceded her through the door, taking a seat on the lumpy couch that he’d always hated with a passion. With all the nice furnishings the home possessed, the couch stuck out like a sore thumb and was just as uncomfortable as one. With a shake of his head, he snatched up the remote.

Claire’s voice echoed from the back of the house. No football, Jaxon. It’s Sunday. Have some respect.

Something in her tone piqued his curiosity. He unfolded his tall frame from Satan’s sofa and made his way to her bedroom, stopping in front of her partially open door. He lifted his hand to knock just as Claire moved into his line of site, muttering to herself about know-it-alls. What a vision she makes, he thought with a twitch from the front of his jeans. She wore nothing but a red bra and matching thong.

Jaxon stood there frozen, unable to move, drinking in her amazing body. He knew it was wrong to keep looking, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His sex filled with blood, hardening into a nearly painful erection.

Hey, Sanders, can you give me a hand with this? Victoria’s voice interrupted his voyeuristic moment, and he jerked his hand back. What am I doing standing outside her room like a modern-day Peeping Tom?

Jaxon forced himself to walk away before he gave into the urge to barge into her room and claim her. She belonged to him. He felt it in his soul.

He stopped in the hall to admire Claire’s graduation picture on his way to the kitchen. It hung in the midst of a collage of smiling faces. Random photos of family and friends were hanging askew in no particular order. A narrow table sat against the wall littered with trophies, awards, and trinkets from Claire’s many achievements. Pride filled his chest along with pain. She really was meant for great things, and damn his foolish heart for trying to stand in her way.

Yo, Jaxon. Victoria barked from the kitchen in a fake British accent full of impatience.

He turned to go just as another image caught his eye. A picture of Claire and Tori at senior prom hung on the opposite wall. Both girls were smiling and holding hands, appearing completely happy, but something was off about it. Jaxon stared at the photo for a long moment before he realized what it was. Claire’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was sadness in their depths that he’d seen a couple of times before. She appeared lost...haunted.

That was a great night.

Jaxon had been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard Claire’s approach. He gazed down at the top of her head as she lifted the frame from its home and held it up for inspection. She was so small compared to him that her head didn’t quite reach his shoulders.

She raised her face and smiled up at him. Do you know what I did that night?

He didn’t want to know. But instead he said. Held Victoria’s hair while she puked?

It was a lame thing to say, but his stomach was in knots waiting on her to tell him of some guy she’d been with.

Tried my first cigarette. She ran her thumb over the image.

The very mention of the little white sticks of doom set his teeth on edge. He wanted one in the worse kind of way.

You never told me you smoked.

It was a phase. I had a rebellious streak a mile wide. She replaced the photo.

Had? He couldn’t help but tease her.

She skirted around him. I’m no longer rebellious. I’ve evolved into stubbornness.

You got that right, he mumbled, following her into the kitchen.

Never mind now, Jaxon. I no longer need the benefit of your great height. Victoria tossed him a beer and went back to stirring something that smelled delicious.

He popped the top and took a long drink. What smells so good?

Spaghetti and cat balls, Victoria answered in a matter-of-fact tone before placing a lid on the pot.

Freak. Jaxon shook his head. I’ll be right back. I have a call to make.

Chapter Five

D oes he really think I don’t know he smokes? Claire grinned at the back of Victoria’s head.

The blonde glanced over her shoulder. I didn’t even know you knew. He tries so hard to hide it from you.

I’ve known for years, Tori. I should go out there and relieve his mind. It’s his life to do with as he wants.

True, but if you open that door, he’ll crush it before you reach him. I can only guess at how much money he’s wasted on half-smoked cigarettes when he’s near you.

A vision of her father lying in a coffin passed through Claire’s mind. I just don’t want the same thing to happen to—

He’s a big boy, Claire. Really big. Gigantic—

Okay. I get it.

Go tell Goliath the Cataroni and cheese is ready. Victoria chortled.

Claire’s lips twitched. You mean spaghetti.

Yeah. That too. But give him a minute to finish his game of hide-and-smoke.

Yes, ma’am. Claire trailed off into the living room and turned on the television before easing over to the window to crack open the blinds.

Jaxon leaned against his truck with his back to the house. A puff of smoke left his mouth to drift off in the breeze like a lazy cloud on a summer day. The picture he made was not only sexy but endearing.

Claire abandoned her post at the window to take a seat on her most cherished couch. She understood Jaxon’s need to keep his bad habit from her, but that didn’t mean she had to like that he did. One of the things she loved most about him was the fact that she could tell him anything without expecting judgment. She wanted him to feel the same about her.

With a sigh of frustration, she leaned back against the cushions to wait. Surely he wouldn’t let Victoria’s warmed-up, leftover spaghetti get cold.

After several commercials on weight loss, gum disease, and car insurance, Claire jumped to her feet. She marched to the door, jerked it open, and came face to face with Jaxon.

I was just coming to get you. Dinner’s ready.

The corner of his mouth lifted. Were you spying on me?

"Of course not. I was watching Criminal Minds," she stuttered.

He glanced toward the television. What episode is it?

It’s um—

You were stuck to the blinds like a crackhead, Claire. Looking at my ass, no doubt. He grinned and stepped around her.

Claire closed the door. Well, it is a nice ass, but I was actually waiting on you to finish your cigarette.

Jaxon came to a stop. I’m sorry. I know you don’t approve, and I try like hell not to do it anywhere near you.

A lump formed in her throat. Damn, she loved him. Well, you don’t have to hide it from me anymore.

She walked past him and gave his butt a smack. Besides, I’m sure I do things you don’t approve of also.

You’d be correct.

How unfortunate for you, she tossed over her shoulder, waiting for his predictable retort.

Kiss it, Claire.

AN ENTIRE POT OF SPAGHETTI and two bottles of wine later, the three of them moved to the living room for the new episode of Criminal Minds.

Jaxon splayed out on the lumpy couch while Claire laid in front of him in a spooning fashion. Her sweet scent surrounded him, making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation she and Victoria were having. Something about who was hotter, Hotchner or Derek.

He refrained from any sarcastic remarks and leaned forward to grab his beer from the coffee table. Claire snagged it and handed it back to him.

Thank you, he murmured, and took a long draw from the cool, brown bottle.

They’d switched to beer after killing off the wine, which was fine by Jaxon. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker anyway. And if Claire stretched one more time, pressing her luscious ass against him, he’d be forced to push her off onto the floor. She had no idea the torment he was in by being so close to her.

You better get to bed, Claire, Victoria muttered. You have to open in the morning.

Don’t remind me. Any chance of talking you into going in my place?

Hell, no. I don’t have to make an appearance until noon. But my heart will be with you. Victoria laid a hand on her chest for dramatic effect.

You suck. Claire presented her with the finger and stood. She glanced down at Jaxon before stumbling toward the hall. I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.

He knew better than to argue with her. Besides, he had enough alcohol in him to endure sleeping on that piece of shit sofa for a week. He would buy her a new one first thing in the morning, he decided with a wince.

Jaxon stretched his long legs out as far as the couch would allow. Why does she have this ugly, uncomfortable lump of springs, Tori?

It belonged to her grandfather. He used to keep it in his office at Bryson’s, and Claire couldn’t bear to part with it when she remodeled the place. She grew up napping on it as a child. Her daddy loved the old thing too. It’s like a family member to her.

Damn. Jaxon immediately felt contrite. He knew how much Claire missed Dexter and her dad.

It’s cool. Tori waved it off. She knows how awful it is. I hate the damn thing too, but it makes her feel good, so we compromise. Besides, she let me keep that. She nodded toward a hideous green lamp perched on a table next to her chair.

Jaxon laughed. He couldn’t help it. He wondered why he’d never noticed it before. Let me guess. Your daddy gave it to you also.

A shadow passed through eyes. I’m going to hit the hay. I’ll see you in the morning. She left the room, leaving Jaxon to frown at her retreating back.

That was the second time in less than twenty-four hours he’d noticed something was off with Victoria. He made a mental note to speak with her about it over breakfast.

Chapter Six

Claire rolled over and glanced at the clock she’d forgotten to plug in the night before. She jumped from the bed in a panic, immediately regretting it. Her head spun, forcing her to grab onto the headboard to keep from falling.

After several deep breaths, she let go of her anchor and made her way down the hall into the living room. The grandfather clock in the corner told her she had three hours before she had to be up for work.

Poor Jaxon, she thought with a grimace. He was going to be sore as hell from sleeping on the too-short sofa. She tiptoed farther into the room until the couch came into view. Two things became obvious at once, Jaxon wasn’t on the couch, and the front door had been left open a crack.

He must be smoking. She crept to the door, listening for sounds of movement. A howl split the night, and Claire nearly jumped out of her skin. Wolves were unheard of in DeFuniak Springs, other than the two Jaxon owned, and the closest known wildlife resort was located in the neighboring Holmes County.

With her eyes huge in her face, Claire eased the door open to peer into the night. Jaxon? she whispered. Silence.

Another howl ricocheted off the trees, sending nerves running up her back. Adrenaline coursed its way through her body, leaving tense muscles and a racing heart as evidence of its power. She wanted nothing more than to run back into her bedroom, lock the door, and crawl under the covers. But Jaxon was out there somewhere with a wild animal. She had to do something.

Jaxon Sanders, you better answer me. When he didn’t respond, she flipped on the outside light and glanced around the porch, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Something ran between her legs and into the house with enough force it nearly knocked her off balance. It took her a second to realize it was Victoria’s cat. Damn it, Psycho. You scared the shit out of me.

Claire never understood why Tori would name a cat Psycho, but she was inclined to agree with her in that moment. The damn thing just randomly appeared at the most inopportune times like something out of a Wes Craven movie.

With her senses on high alert, she stepped out onto the porch. Crickets chanted in synchrony, partially drowning out the hoot of a nearby owl. Stars peppered the sky in beautiful, twinkling brilliance, resembling diamonds scattered across a black velvet backdrop.

Wildlife seemed oblivious to a predator in their midst, Claire noted as she slowly descended the steps and crept along the front of the porch. Jaxon, she hissed. Where the hell can he be?

She came to a stop at the corner of the house. The light spilling from the porch had grown dimmer the farther she walked. One more step and she’d be immersed in darkness. She wanted to turn back so bad her muscles tightened up. Her brain fought a war with her heart, and lost.

She loved Jaxon, always had, even though he could never know. His family owned half of Walton County and boasted of politicians from Tallahassee to Washington DC. They had a string of hardware stores that included Bay and Okaloosa Counties as well. Jaxon was expected to marry well and run for office. He’d already stepped into his father’s shoes, taking on half the family business.

Alfred Sanders was a very prominent man in the community, well respected by his peers, and loved by all who knew him. He headed up most of the local charities, fundraisers, and political events. His seat as county commissioner of district five had won him the people’s trust and loyalty for years to come. He expected his children to follow suit, and Marissa, Jaxon’s sister, was no exception.

Jaxon had been groomed since elementary school to become the damn president, Claire mused. She had no doubt he would do great things, which was part of the reason she could never allow him to know her feelings for him, or that his father had forbidden her from having a relationship with his son years ago. She would never forget the night Alfred approached her just before senior prom. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Tori.

A low growl came from behind her, and she bit back a scream. She spun around in panic, her terrified gaze scanning the shadows in rapid sweeps, landing on a pair of yellow, glowing eyes. The sounds coming from the beast were horrifying, yet she couldn’t look away.

Her hand trembled as she slowly moved it toward the porch railing. If she could get her legs to work, she might have a chance of swinging over the side and making it into the house before being attacked.

It took everything she had not to cry out. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her dinner threatened to come back up. Sweat beaded on her forehead to trickle down into her eyes.

With the power of fear and sheer survival instincts, she raised her foot, preparing to leap. A massive wolf sprang from the shadows, heading toward her faster than her mind could