Right Wolf, Right Time by Marie Harte Page A

tossed down her cards. They took his truck to the pride, a few miles from town. The sky grew darker earlier as autumn approached, but she let the cool air into the truck, keeping the window down. She loved the wind through her hair, the freedom to be herself and not worry about punishments or castigation.
    “You’re beautiful.”
    She turned to stare at her wolf. “So are you.”
    He frowned. “Me? I’m all beat up. You. You’re glowing.”
    “I’m not pregnant.”
    “Not that kind of glowing.” He chuckled. “Would it bother you if I said I was disappointed?”
    She bit her lip. “No.”
    “Man, I love when you do that. Turn all shy and shit.”
    She couldn’t help laughing, especially when he seemed to realize what he’d said.
    “Hell. Look, it’s too late. I mated you. You can’t turn away because I’m not that smooth with the ladies.”
    The thought made her wolf growl low in her breast. “I don’t want you smooth with the ladies.”
    He blinked at her before looking back at the road. “Damn. I think you just growled at me. Hey, no problem, honey. Point taken. I’m a one-woman wolf.” He grabbed her jean-clad thigh and squeezed. “But the same goes for you. No alpha wolf or any other wolf in your future. No man, period.”
    She sighed. “Honestly, Monty. You don’t have to worry about that. They only ever wanted me because I’m wolf, anyway.”
    “You keep telling yourself that. Yeah. You’re stone ugly and have a body like a Mack truck. And you smell terrible, not like fresh lilies at all.” He shook his head. “So sad that I’m stuck with such an ugly mate, but what can I do? I feel so sorry for you.”
    “Oh stop it.” He could make her feel so good without even trying. She blushed, pleased he liked the look and smell of her. She never would have imagined how important scent would be, but she lived with the knowledge that scent meant everything to her wolf.
    The truck turned off onto a dirt road, and they drove half a mile before coming upon a large main house surrounded by flowers and landscaped shrubbery. Joel and Maggie kept the place in top shape. Burke ran Chastell Tours from the main house and maintained order at the pride. His brothers worked for the touring company with Monty, while Rachel worked for herself doing Internet stuff Sophie didn’t understand. The foxes and cats also living at the Catamount Ranch all did their own thing. Everyone pulled their fair share and seemed to like living together. Several individual cabins beyond the main house showed the growing pride.
    “My place is back behind the house. I’ll show you my big old bed later.” He parked the truck and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Come on. Everyone’s dying to tease me about you. Just remember, they’re family. So if I kick the shit—ah, crap out of Dean or Grady, just go with it.”
    “Okay.” She left the truck with him and accepted the hand he held out to her. “But no mention of Scooby, right?”
    “I hate that friggin’ mutt. No Mystery Machine, Scooby Doo, or other cartoon canine references. Remember, Sophie. We’re wolves, the cream of the crop. The cats just think they own the world. We actually run things.”
    “And the foxes, what about us?” came a voice from behind them.
    Sophie turned to see Sheriff Ty Roderick, Julia’s husband, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips quirked in amusement.
    “You’re the tiny predators we pity, because your brains are barely larger than your tails.”
    “Not bad, wolf. You’re managing your insults better. Not great, but better.” Ty tipped his Stetson at Sophie. “Howdy, sweet thing.” He somehow managed to get between Monty and Sophie and escorted her inside the house. She heard Monty muttering obscenities behind him.
    Ty stepped with her into the open living room and said in a booming voice, “Sophie’s here.”
    Everyone rushed into the living room at once, and Sophie gripped Ty’s arm.
    “It’s okay,” he