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Authors: Bonnie Vanak

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Her gaze darted away. She stared at the rolling hills and jagged mountains in the distance. “She’s my mom’s sister, and I know she loves me. But I’ve always been close to Diamond. Diamond’s been my friend for a long time. Sometimes I’d sneak out to the stables at night and sleep in her stall. Since she’s been gone, I feel so alone.”

“I understand.” It broke his heart. “But now you’ve got me, too,” he said gently.

Moisture glittered in her slate eyes. “It can’t work with us, Jackson. I won’t fit into your pack. I need to be out on the rodeo circuit. It’s my life. Maybe I need to be alone.”

Running a thumb along her cheek, he breathed in her scent, winding around him in ribbons of erotic enticement, tempted to tumble her backward and fuck her until she screamed her pleasure.

Lexie bit her lip and stared into the distance.

A black Ford pickup rattled up the long, dusty drive. Jackson watched it stop a short distance from the corral and discharge two men, then continue down the road to the lodge.

The Skins approached the corral. The taller one was Bart Baker, owner of the Bar B. With his thinning hair and snaggletooth, he wasn’t much to look at, but for his extraordinary gray eyes, nearly as stunning as Lexie’s.

Jackson studied the second Skin. Short, barrel-chested, he walked with a swagger in worn Western boots. Ambrose Cutte, Bart’s ranch manager. An okay cowhand, but more skilled working the books than the horses, other cowboys jested.

Bart Baker was a widower and extremely protective of Cora, his only daughter. Once at a rodeo, Jackson caught Baker staring at Lexie barrel racing. Then he’d turned to Jackson and remarked how Cora needed to beat Lexie’s time, which should be easy enough, seeing how Lexie was a big girl and her weight probably slowed down Lexie’s mount.

The Skin was rude, but business-like. Ambrose, on the other hand…

Bart’s ranch manager looked at Lexie in a different way, as if she were dessert and he was starving. Once at a local rodeo, Jackson had overheard Ambrose joke that “big girls like Lexie like to ride, and like being ridden.”

Over my dead Lupine body, Jackson thought, anger beginning to surface as he watched Ambrose approach. The man immediately noticed Lexie and stared, licking his pudgy lips as if anticipating a tasty meal.

A low growl rumbled from Jackson’s throat. Testosterone flooded his body, preparing him to fuck or fight. He fought back the urge to send a hard fist smashing into Ambrose’s pudgy face. The hell with the fact the man’s boss had money that helped Jackson purchase Diamond, and Diamond was going to help him get Lexie, the only Lupine he desired.

Lexie hugged her ample chest. Jackson removed his jacket and draped it around Lexie’s slender shoulders, covering her breasts.

Ambrose leaned against the rails, looking at Lexie as if envisioning her naked. Bart swaggered to the fence. He grinned at Lexie, but something nasty and dark layered that smile, like worms wriggling underneath cake frosting. “Hello there, Lexie. We get to meet formally at last. The famous CC rider, queen of the rodeo circuit.”

A tremulous smile touched Lexie’s full mouth. “Hi.”

“CC Rider. Chunky Cowgirl Rider. Best barrel racer in the west. Hell of a big rider. Big rider, get it?” Bart laughed.

Red suffused Lexie’s cheeks. She tugged his jacket closer. Anger simmered in Jackson. His wolf snarled, urging him into action. He barely bit back the Lupine growl rumbling deep in his throat and clenched his fists, ready to send them sailing first into Bart’s face, then give Ambrose a black eye or two.

The hell with fists. Fangs were better, he’d shift, show them the business end of his canines… Jackson felt his wolf surge to the surface, the instinct to shift nearly too much to overcome.

A soft hand slid over his fist and squeezed gently. His wolf instantly calmed.

“Jackson, it’s okay,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “I can handle him.”

He gave a rough nod. Hell, he couldn’t afford to punch these Skins and put himself out of his pack for good, let alone shift in front of Skins, the worst mistake a Lupine could ever make. Lexie always could control his wolf, turn his thermostat down a few notches.

What if he lost her? What would happen to him? No pack wanted a bad-tempered Lupine who lacked control.

As Bart tipped his hat, Lexie gave a cool smile.

“Hi there, BB.” She gave a pointed look to the ranch owner’s stomach oozing over his hand-tooled leather belt. “Isn’t that funny? BB. Does it stand for Bart Baker -  or Big Belly? Don’t you love nicknames?”

Bart’s expression turned sullen. Lexie turned to the still-staring Ambrose. “You can put your eyeballs back in your head now and quit staring at me like a lovesick cow.”

Ambrose scowled and Bart fell silent.  Pride filled Jackson. Lexie could dish it out as good as she got it.
Atta girl.

He vaulted over the fence, watching Bart’s sullen look turn to envy. The Skin ranch owner might have more money than Montana had grass blades, but he was slow and clumsy on his feet. Bart could no more leap fences than he could turn into a werewolf.

Yeah, and a fully grown Lupine can do more than leap fences, dickwad. I could take you down and bite your ass for insulting my Lexie.

Jackson folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the gate.

Bart pointed to Diamond. “That mare yours?”

Both belong to me and you’ll never get your hands on either.
“Yup.”

“Nice lines. Can I go inside and have a look?”

Jackson shook his head. “Nope.”

The man stared. “I pay you good money to give my daughter barrel racing lessons and you won’t even let me inspect your horse?”

Tipping his hat back, Jackson locked hard gazes with the man. “I don’t want her spooked. I have big plans for her.”

A sly smile curved the ranch owner’s mouth. “You plan to breed her?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded.
Both of them.

“I’ve got just the right stud to service her.”

“So do I,” he murmured.

A white Ford pickup drove toward them. Recognizing Darius, the pack beta and ranch manager, Jackson signaled for him to hurry. Darius parked the truck and climbed out with a smile that could seduce a legion of ladies and turn a loudmouth braggart like Bart into putty.

“Hi, Mr. Baker, Ambrose. Mr. Baker, your daughter is at the lodge, getting settled. If you’ll come with me, we’ve prepared rooms for all of you. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to tackle the paperwork as quickly as possible because I have to leave. I apologize for not being around to personally escort you around the ranch, but I assure you, Aiden will make sure you will be accorded special treatment.”

As the pack beta escorted the Skins to his truck, he turned his head, mouthed the word “asshole” and winked at Lexie. But she only clutched the coat tighter, looking miserable.

Jackson’s heart ached. Lexie was so pretty and plump and fun, and he hated how Skins like Bart taunted her. But they respected her, too. Enough to flock to the arena when she rode, and cheer her on as if she were a rodeo rock star.

She was big and beautiful, but didn’t see herself that way. All her energy focused on barrel racing.

Lexie clearly remained loyal to her own pack and the life of barrel racing. How could she settle down and embrace life in his pack, let alone mating with him and breeding young?

How the hell can I hold onto her? After the week is up, how long before she runs from me?

Lexie craved the exciting life of traveling on the rodeo circuit, not the quiet, everyday world of life on the Mitchell ranch.

All he cared about was right before him, and Jackson grew tired of being on the range for long days. Every time he’d lost control and gotten into a fight with the pack males, Aiden sentenced him to herding cattle in the ranch’s furthest pastures, banning him from returning to the ranch at night. Learn discipline, learn to control your temper, the pack alpha warned.

And every night, the other cowboys rode back in their pickup trucks, horse trailers bumping along the dusty back road behind them. They were headed to the lodge, to good food, laughter and company, while he’d build a fire, heat up a chicken-fried steak and stare at the stars. Sometimes he grew so lonely he’d tip his head back and howl.

Aiden was fair. The pack leader did it in hopes that staying in Skin would calm his wolf down so Jackson could remain with the pack.

But Jackson knew his wolf would only calm down after mating, and only Lexie would suffice. Only then would his Skin self and his wolf find real peace, instead of caving into the urge to fight with other males.

His wolf needed to run wild and free, instead of growing restless while Jackson stayed in Skin, watching over the cattle.

His wolf craved Lexie, hungered to have her naked beneath him.

How could he make this work?

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Cora Baker knew how to ride.

But Lexie knew she was faster, and better.

Sitting on the railing of the corral where barrels were set in a standard cloverleaf pattern, Lexie watched her arch rival work her gelding through his paces. Jackson stood off to the side, giving advice and encouragement. With Aiden’s approval and the other cowboys pitching in, he’d set up the corral with the same barrel lengths she’d be racing.

Bart Baker had handed the Lupine a check to help his daughter win the Bordello Border Rodeo competition because “She’s a Baker and Bakers don’t lose.”

Resentment curled through Lexie. Cora didn’t need the $15,000 winning purse. The woman probably spent that much money on her riding outfits.

Lexie needed it to help Nikita save the ranch from foreclosure.

While Cora’s father and Ambrose were overseeing Big Boy’s stud duties, Lexie and Cora practiced riding in the arena. Cora’s rhinestone-covered shirt and matching white pants glittered in the sharp sunshine. She sparkled like a jewel as she leaned Mark XI into his paces. Lexie glanced down at her rumpled chambray work shirt and faded jeans. Nikita had sent over her clothing, but her best clothing for rodeo days didn’t come close to what Cora wore to practice.

Even Lupines could have fashion envy.

Winning counted more than looks, and to win she needed speed and accuracy. Lexie narrowed her eyes and gauged her competition’s moves. Cora was fast between the barrels, but had a slight hesitation when racing Mark XI around them, cutting too wide a path.

She didn’t have the kind of trust with her horse Lexie and Diamond shared. And no amount of coaching from Jackson, one of the best riders in Montana, could help her.

Cora finished and Jackson clicked a watch. “Time: Twenty-five point eight seconds.”

Confidence filled Lexie. She could beat her.

The Skin cantered over to the gate. She dismounted and handed the reins to a waiting Lupine acting as a groom, whose worshipful gaze tracked Cora’s every move. Peter, she remembered. His jaw bore a slight bruise, as if he’d run into something or someone punched him.

“Lexie!” Jackson whistled and waved a hand as Cora left. “Your turn.”

As Peter led Mark VI out, Cora climbed the fence to watch. Lexie mounted Diamond and gathered the reins in one hand.

Jackson patted the mare. “Remember, start with a gradual arc, then sit down and steer her close. Diamond’s a pro and so are you. I know you can beat her time. I have faith in you.”

“Don’t worry. I like it fast.”

He squeezed a hand around her calf and then tickled her behind the knee. “I want you to finish in less than twenty-five seconds.”

Lexie winked at him. “Something you’ll never hear me ask of you over the next few nights.”

The smart ass remark stunned her. Maybe deep down, she anticipated mating with Jackson.

He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, masculine sound that resonated down her spine.

In the saddle, she was a queen. And Diamond knew it as well.

Lexie took a deep breath and whispered to her mare, “Let’s do it, girl.”

They took off. Wind whipped at her hair and the familiar feeling of freedom rushed through Lexie. Riding her horse, taking her through the paces, this was what she was meant to do. In the saddle, she felt free as a Lupine in wolfskin, using her horse’s legs to run faster than her wolf ever could.

Adrenalin pumped through her veins, the exhilarating rush making her want to laugh with pure joy. Lexie could almost do this with her eyes closed. She guided Diamond, applying pressure with her knees, and tore through the cloverleaf pattern.

The stopwatch clicked. Jackson looked up and beamed. “Eighteen point two seconds! Knew it!”

She slid off Diamond and grinned. “Told you I liked it fast.”

“As long as you don’t mind it slow in other places,” he teased, and his warm gaze caressed her.

Still exhilarated, Lexie glanced at the fence and the pouting Cora, who stalked away, hands jammed into her pockets.

All of her daddy’s money couldn’t buy her a better time. Or the friendship Lexie shared with Diamond. They were a team.

Lexie patted Diamond. “Ready to try again, girl?”

They did several practice rounds, each one beating Cora’s best time. On the last round, she even beat her own record time, earning a loud whoop of approval from Jackson. Then she led Diamond out of the corral, tired but proud.

Jackson glanced at the sun sinking into the sharp blue sky. “Getting late. Aiden wants us all to eat with Bart and Cora tonight. Let’s stable Diamond. Brush her down and then go back to the cabin so we can wash up and then join them at the lodge.”

Back at the cabin, she stepped into the large granite-lined shower and hummed happily as the water poured over her. After drying off, she dressed in her best jeans, a soft green blouse that highlighted her eyes and brushed her long hair until it shone.

Lexie skipped down the hallway, feeling happy for the first time since Nikita told her she’d sold Diamond. She and her horse made a great team, but with Jackson’s encouragement and his confidence in her abilities, she’d beaten her own record time.

The thought made her stop halfway down the stairs. All this time she’d been thinking of herself as a solo player, but realized Jackson had played a key role in aiding her rodeo career.

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