Wolf Tracks - Bianca D'Arc Page 0,5

compact car. Jim Hanson was the kind of man women had midnight fantasies about.

Tall, ripped, handsome as sin. The golden streaks in his dark blond hair invited her to run her fingers through the short strands. She’d had to sit on her hands to stop the impulse to touch him when he’d been sitting next to her on Kiki’s patio the other night. She’d wanted to stroke his arm, hold his hand, touch him any way she could, but she mustn’t. He was a werewolf and had not invited such liberties.

She didn’t know much about shifters, but she had heard that they didn’t like to be touched by strangers without an explicit invitation. She figured that was reasonable. She didn’t like it when strangers touched her without permission, so it was only fair. It’s just that he looked so…so…pet-able.

She could only imagine what his wolf side must look like. He probably had soft, silky fur in those shades of brown and gold, like his hair. And those striking blue-green eyes that reminded her a bit of the ocean. He’d said he had been a Navy SEAL. She could see that. His eyes spoke of the turbulent depths of the Atlantic, and it was clear from his physical form that he was physically fit. Fitter than almost anyone Helen had ever seen, and she lived among farmers who labored all day, every day, on their farms.

She’d seen her share of physiques sculpted by hard work, but Jim Hanson’s body was honed like a fine-edged blade. Sharp, dangerous and devastating to the opposite sex.

He could have his pick of female companionship, and probably did. She didn’t blame him. Shifters were of the earth, and they had instinct and impulses that were probably a lot stronger than most people. Since learning about shifters living among the regular population in secret, Helen had been fascinated by the very idea of them. She’d learned all she could from the available sources, which were few and far between. Her magical tradition didn’t have much to do with shifters, in general. Which was unfortunate.

She wanted to know more, but she knew asking flat out was not the way it was done. She’d have to ask Kiki to share some things, but that would take time. She wasn’t about to bombard her little sister with questions during what was essentially her honeymoon period, even though they hadn’t had the official wedding, yet.

Part of what Helen would be doing when she got home was planning a big country wedding for Kiki and Jack. Once things settled down at the paper mill and it was safe to leave for a while, they were going to head home to the family farm. They’d hold the wedding so Kiki would be married in the eyes of their friends and neighbors, though from what little Helen had been able to learn about shifter culture this past weekend, once mates found each other, they were considered mated as soon as they let their friends, family, and any leaders of their Packs or Clans know.

Helen wasn’t completely clear on the Pack or Clan thing. The bears had a Clan, she’d heard them say, but the wolves spoke of their Pack. It made sense for the wolves. Non-shifter wolves ran in Packs, too. But non-shifter bears? She’d thought they were mostly solitary creatures. She’d have to do some more research, now that her little sister was mated to one.

She’d heard both Arch and Jim refer to an Alpha. It sounded like the Alpha was the leader of their Pack, which also made a certain amount of sense. But, having met Arch and Jim first, she would have pegged both men as Alphas, at least in the sense that she knew the word. They were both powerful, intelligent, and they had this aura of competence about them. They were leaders. Alphas. Though, it sounded like they both answered to someone they respected enough to take orders from. Helen would be afraid to meet the werewolf that could give warriors like Arch and Jim orders.

When the truck in front of her put on its turn signal, Helen followed suit. She looked into her rearview mirror and saw Jim do the same in his truck, behind her. They all got off the highway at the next exit, and Helen followed the Ebersoles’ pickup into a large parking lot adjacent to a diner with shiny silver panels on parts of the exterior and large windows. It was nearly lunch time,