Damnation: Reckless Desires (Blue Moon Saloon Book 1) (2 page)

“They’re good guys,” Tina added quickly. “Hard-working. Honest.”

She sure hoped so.

“…a little rough around the edges, maybe…”

Jess pictured natty beards, worn jeans, western drawls.

“…but I’m sure they’ll be fine. And they can really use your help.”

That was another thing. Everything Tina
didn’t
say suggested the saloon wasn’t exactly off to a stellar start. Not that Jess minded hard work, but it would be nice to be part of a successful, competent team.

“Anything you need, you let me know,” Tina said.

“Thanks,” Jess said, meeting her eyes so Tina knew she meant it. The she-wolf had gone out of her way to help Jess and Janna from the very start.

She’s got a soft spot for outcasts,
Tina’s mate, Rick, had explained back on the ranch, when he’d looked at Tina like she was the sun and he was the moon, devoted to orbiting faithfully to the end of his days.

The saloon doors — a pair of real saloon doors that swung both ways — split open, and a tall figure strode out.

“Hello, Ty,” Tina said while Jessica and Janna hung back.

Tina was probably the only person west of the Missouri who could greet that man so casually. Jessica’s eyes hit the ground, and not just because it was a required sign of submission to the alpha of Twin Moon pack. The man had a pointed, laser glare, and sheer wolf power sloughed off him in waves.

“Hi,” he growled.

Once upon a time, Jess had made a habit of showing such men she wasn’t easily impressed, but she’d been on the run long enough to know to keep her place. Just in case.

“Don’t mind my brother,” Tina whispered out of the corner of her mouth, then swept right by him and into the saloon.

Ty Hawthorne held the left half of the saloon door open in a surprisingly polite gesture for an alpha that powerful, and for a moment, the
watch-your-step-on-my-turf
aura he gave off softened to a more gentle,
you’ll-be-safe-here
.

Jess took a last, deep breath and walked through the doors, feeling as if she were leaping into a deep, murky pool.

At first, she couldn’t see anything, but as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she could make out the trappings of an authentic saloon. Four poker tables stood in the middle, and booths lined the sides. A weathered sign on the right read,
Check your guns at the door
, and it was hard to tell whether the message was a gag or not. Otherwise, the walls were decorated with black-and-white scenes of the frontier town in days gone by — all covered with enough dust to suggest that the new management hadn’t changed the decor. Or the menu, judging by the faded chicken-scratch on the chalkboard by the front door. Not a soul in sight, but then, it was ten in the morning — before opening time.

Janna, of course, waltzed right in. “Great! A pool table.”

There was a dartboard, too, a standup piano, and an old jukebox to one side. But the centerpiece of the saloon, and the thing that had Jess halt dead in her tracks, was the bar itself. A huge, oak masterpiece that took up all of the back wall. Bottles of booze glittered in the light bouncing off the huge mirror in the middle section, and an antique Winchester hung over the top. But it was the woodwork that caught her eye. Intricately carved wooden supports held up each of the many shelves, and a mountain scene was etched into the upper panel. A wolf howled at the moon, a bear waded in a stream, and an eagle soared overhead.

“Gorgeous,” she murmured.

A finely crafted latticework covered the entire upper section, all the way to the molded tin ceiling of the room. The bar itself was polished to a glow in the sunlight filtering through the windows, as was the brass footrail underneath.

Two things were immediately evident. First, someone had put a hell of a lot of time into carving that bar a long, long time ago. Second, someone very recently had put a hell of a lot of time into restoring it all.

“Nice, huh?” Tina murmured.

“More than nice. It’s spectacular,” she agreed.

“My great-uncle made it, ninety years ago.”

Pool balls clicked behind them, and Jessica spun to see her sister blow at the tip of a pool stick like a gunslinger who’d just made the perfect shot. Knowing Janna, it
was
a perfect shot. But didn’t they have more important things to do, like meeting their new boss?

Jessica looked around. Spider webs filled the other corners of the place, but damn did that bar gleam. If the guy put as much work into the rest of the place as he had into the bar, it wouldn’t be half bad. But the tables were crooked, the chairs chipped. The saloon had seen more than one brawl in its time. She was sure of that.

“Hello?” Tina called. Her voice echoed down a narrow hallway that appeared to lead to the kitchen and a back room.

“Coming,” a deep voice came from out of sight.

Jessica’s wolf perked its ears. Froze. Practically pointed like a goddamn hunting dog, too. She gave it a mental swat, but the beast didn’t budge. What the hell was that about?

Her nostrils flared, but all she could pick up was the scent of the shifters around her and the stale smell of French fries.

“Be right there,” a second voice came. A low, rumbly voice, like that of a bear roused from his den.

Her wolf soul had been slumbering for most of the morning, but now, it jumped up and down, growling at the bars of its cage. Wagging its tail frantically from a crazy cocktail of mixed emotions. Excitement with a splash of hope, a touch of arousal, and a whole lot of fear, clinking around like a couple of ice cubes in a whiskey glass.

What?
She wanted to scream at her wolf.
What?

Two square-shouldered forms stepped out of the shadows of the hallway, one half a step ahead of the other. Big, burly men who moved like bulldozers, confident that any living thing would back the hell out of their way. Each slowed to brush a shoulder against the doorframe as he came through, the way some shifters did to mark their turf.

Short, sandy hair. Scruffy stubble. Dark, wary eyes. Huge, steely hands clenched into fists. Two men who couldn’t be anything but brothers.

A warm rush of adrenaline exploded inside her and bounced around her veins, and her mind whirled.
Not possible. It couldn’t be…

Part of her wanted to flee; the other part wanted to leap into an embrace. The man in front looked permanently stern, while the one behind smiled. At least, he did until he spotted her.

“Jessica Macks,” Tina started the introductions, “meet—”

“Simon,” Jess blurted, looking over the shoulder of the first man toward the second. “Voss,” she finished, going weak in the knees.

The man she’d never stopped loving, no matter how hard she tried. The bear shifter who still inhabited all of her dreams.

Mate!
Her wolf whimpered in joy.
Mate!

Blue eyes the color of the coldest, clearest alpine lake locked on hers and refused to let go.

“Jessica,” he murmured, too low for human ears.

Her wolf did a crazy tap dance.
Mate! Mine!

“Wow!” Janna exclaimed, clueless as ever. “Simon?” Then she turned to the older brother — the one who was bigger, broader, and burlier, but only by a hair. “Soren? Oh my God! It really is you.”

“Good to see you,” Soren mumbled as his eyes darted between Jess and Simon.

“This is amazing!” Janna declared.

Tina tipped her head sideways in a gesture that said,
This is unexpected.

Jessica shook her head furiously, trying to break Simon’s unwavering gaze.
This is not possible.
No way. No how. The man who’d pretended to love her, then cast her aside?

“This…” Simon uttered in his deep, edgy bass. A sound like a shovel scraping against rock, guaranteed to send tingles to every fenced-off corner of her body and mind. “This will never work.”

Jess edged toward the doorway, trying to keep the wobbling pieces of her heart together long enough to make her escape.

She shook her head and echoed him, trying to convince her wolf. “This will never work.”

For a split second, Simon stood stock-still, gaping while his inner bear reared up on its hind legs and roared.

Jessica. Jess.
His
Jess. Alive!

He wanted to drop to his knees and wrap himself around her legs. Wanted to crumple to the floor and cry in relief to see her alive. He wanted to roar to heaven that he finally, finally, had that second chance he’d been praying for, that all his hoping and wishing and dreaming hadn’t been in vain.

But fuck. All he could get out were a few emotionless words. Why, why, why?

He couldn’t think straight, that was why. Not upon seeing Jess alive but so haunted. The nervous tic in her cheek said she really, really needed the job. The full lips wobbled in fear and broken hope. The hollows around her incredible gray-blue eyes spoke of sleepless nights. Deep, dark wolf eyes that said she hadn’t forgotten. Hadn’t forgiven.

And why the hell should she?

“This will never work,” he’d blurted, even as his bear roared.
No! No! No!

Worse, Jess had immediately agreed. “This will never work.” She even recoiled as she said it, putting another crack in his heart.

No. There was no way Jessica Macks could be back in his life.

The rear door to the alley was open, and he could hear the voice of fate drifting in from the desert. Laughing at him. Again.

Christ, how could he not have sensed that she was alive? That she was so near?

The whole conversation he’d had with Tina two days ago echoed in his mind, and it all seemed so obvious now.

“Good news! I think I found the help you need,” Tina had said.

“Yeah? That would be great.” The saloon needed all the help it could get. He and Soren had done their best, but they weren’t exactly off to a good start.

“I came across two women — shifters — looking for a job and a place to stay.”

He’d just nodded along, not thinking for one second Tina meant two she-wolves from Black River — the pack that had been neighbors with his clan back in Montana. Back before
it
happened. The
it
that he and Soren couldn’t bear talking about, even if they thought about it all the time.

“Now, look, they’re a little shy,” Tina warned him.

That had caught him off guard. “What are we going to do with shy waitresses?”

“Well, only one of them is on the shy side.”

Never in a million years would he ever have called his Jess shy. No wonder he hadn’t suspected.

“And they both need a chance,” Tina had said.

That, he could relate to. He and Soren had been badly in need of a chance, and Tina had given it to them. She’d talked the ruling alpha of the local wolf pack into letting the bear brothers revive an out-of-business saloon the pack owned in town. The least he could do was give someone else a chance, right?

“Where’d you say they come from?” he’d asked.

Tina answered vaguely. “Better not ask too many questions. Will you give them a chance? Please?”

So of course he’d said yes and yelled for confirmation from Soren, who nodded right along. Their previous waitress had lasted all of two days before she quit, and they couldn’t run the place on their own.

But Jesus, he never suspected it would be
them
.

Lean and lanky like any good timber wolves, but tired, too. Jessica looked as proud and fierce as ever but much too worried and much too thin. Janna still had her trademark smile and sass. A couple of capable Montana girls, unafraid of getting their hands dirty or speaking their minds. And the second Jessica’s gray-blue eyes hardened on him, his heart clenched.

This will never work.
Had he really said that before fleeing to the back room?

Not like his brother had been any help with his flat, unimpressed greeting. “Good to see you.”

Good to see you?
His bear raged inside.
Just good?

His stomach was doing flip-flops, his blood rushing in uneven bursts. His heart pounded halfway out of his chest. Good to fucking seeing you?

It wasn’t just good to see Jess again. It was great. Overwhelming. Amazing.

He slumped to a chair in the back room and held his head in his hands. The only thing keeping him from dropping to his knees — even in the back room, even a minute after the shock — was the fact that the walls were too damn thin to cover the anguished noises he was likely to make if he let go the slightest, teensiest bit. So no knees. No noises. Just a hanging head and clenched fists and raspy breathing. The fervent wish that he’d died six months ago with the rest of his family. Better yet, that he’d died honorably, defending his mate. Because the life he’d been living the last six months wasn’t living. It was existing, nothing more. And now that he’d seen Jessica alive and angry as ever, that existence was just as bleak.

Footsteps carried through the floorboards under the threadbare carpet, and Simon glanced up. His brother entered and leaned against the small bar built into the back room — the one they used for special occasions, or would, if they ever got enough business for something like that. Soren kept his distance and his hands out of his pockets, just in case. Which was good, because Simon was all too ready to lash out at the nearest punching bag, even if that was his own flesh and blood.