The Ride a Cowboy Anthology http://www.bookstrand.com/the-ride-a-cowboy-anthology
A few more whiskeys, a pizza, and many glasses
of beer later found Conn pleasantly buzzed and heading out of the bar.
Unfortunately with his stature and shifter blood, it wouldn’t last. At least
his temper had cooled and he didn’t feel like ripping someone’s head off.
Pausing, he took a moment to let the cool air of the clear night wash away the
last of the day’s frustrations. At close to eight o’clock on a Tuesday night,
the streets were mostly deserted. The residents of the small town were likely
home watching television. Breathing in deeply, ready to head back to the ranch,
Conn froze. Some small difference was caught up in the slight breeze.
Surveying the buildings around him, Conn
searched for anything off. Turning his head slowly, he carefully observed the
few people walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Once they
were gone, everything became quiet again.
There had been times in the past when other
shifters had come through town looking for trouble. Conn nipped those
unacceptable ideas in the bud. Usually the shifters left or, if Conn was forced
to, they were buried.
Still not moving, he looked up the street and
regarded the only intersection in town with stoplights. There, passing under
the corner streetlight, coming toward him, was a young man. His head was down,
and he weaved wildly around the concrete sidewalk covering twice as much ground
as he would have walking in a straight line. If Conn’s keen eyesight hadn’t spotted
the blood staining the guy’s ripped shirt and jeans, he would have thought the
man was drunk off his ass.
Conn studied the man, using his heightened
senses. A husky voice reached Conn’s sensitive ears. Whether natural or created
from the man’s injuries, the tenor-over-gravel quality was a melody straight to
Conn’s heart.
“Keep going, Aisley. One step at a time. Soon
you’ll find a place to hide and rest.”
Conn’s eye’s widened when something in his
brain clicked and he saw a pure white aura surrounding the man. “Mate,”
screamed through Conn’s mind.
In the middle of the sidewalk, the man
stopped, lifted his curly dark head, and looked at Conn, swaying slightly. Rage
coursed through Conn’s veins at the sight of the bloody, crescent-shaped gash
on his mate’s left cheek. One corner of his swollen lips was encrusted with
dried blood, and bruises marred the skin around each eye. Conn’s blood pressure
rose several levels at the hint of bruising along the line of the man’s jaw and
around his neck.
Conn’s mate was dirty, beat-to-hell, and way
too skinny, and yet he was the most beautiful man Conn had ever seen. The man’s
nostrils flared, telling Conn his mate most likely was a shifter whose sense of
smell was dominant.
“Holy hell he’s big. I think he’s some sort of
cat. I’ve only smelled the pack before, so how am I supposed to know what he
is? It doesn’t matter. I can’t put him in danger. But it sure would be nice to
slide up close and get naked next to him.”
Conn smiled at his mate’s musings. Seeing his
smile, the man stiffened, and panic covered his battered face. His body tensed,
and Conn could see he was ready to take off.
“Running won’t help, little wolf,” Conn called
out. The man’s body jerked, and Conn knew he’d guessed his mate’s animal right.
“We exchanged essences when you smelled me and I heard you. Our bodies are
already changing, and tiny strings of the mate bond have already formed.”
“Shit. What am I going to do? I’m in no shape
to outrun him.”
“You couldn’t outrun me on any day. Now come
to me. Everything will be okay.” Conn tried to keep his tone soothing. He
hadn’t had a lot of practice in his long life with that, but he would try for
his mate.
“I was talking out loud, wasn’t I?” the man
asked, clearly not wanting the answer Conn was going to give him.
“Yeah,” Conn answered.
Conn stood there waiting. He wouldn’t go after
his mate unless he was forced to. Wolves didn’t like to be chased or trapped,
and patience was second nature to his tiger. Hell, he had waited almost one
hundred years for Tay to realize he sucked at ranching. This should be a piece
of cake.
“It would be better if you walked away and
forgot about me.” Misery covered his mate’s face.
“Not happening,” Conn responded.
“There’s a good chance I have trouble
following me. I’m considered rogue. I need to keep moving.”
“Now you are my mate, not rogue. Any trouble
we’ll handle together, and there isn’t going to be anymore running.”
Satisfaction filled Conn when the small man took a few steps forward.
“I would love to believe you.” A shaky hand
lifted and then dropped back down to his side.
“You will love me forever and a day,” Conn
responded.
“You sure are confident.”
“That’s because I know,” Conn said.
“Why is everything starting to hurt even more
than it did before? I’m so confused.”
“It’s the bond,” Conn replied. His own skin
burned, and his tiger growled in agitation. “What is your name?”
“Aisley Matthews.”
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