Chapter One.

Crashing through the brush Liam caught glimpses of the other wolves, blurs of blue and gray shining briefly in the moonlight. He stopped to explore a small cove, to mark a few trees, and trotted back out into the clearing. Several members of the pack were already there. Two males lay at either end of the clearing, bushy tails flicking with forced casualness, conspicuously eyeing each other. At Liam’s appearance they forgot one another and turned their attentions to him.

Liam made for a large animal. Massive shoulders, huge paws, his thick bulk covered in a heavy gray coat. He stood tall and straight, tail erect. The males twitched their ears back and forgot him. Putting his muzzle to the ground, Liam moved across the clearing. A couple females approached him and he caught scent of their readiness, sharp and earthy. He was tempted but moved away, following the trail. One of the females went after him but he ignored her and she eventually went trotting back.

There was something here, something he needed to find. He’d followed it for miles and now that it was so near he felt all the tension and anxiety in a sudden wave. He released a series of high, reckless barks and broke into a run, trampling the damp, leafy ground. He barked again and skidded to a stop, circling a dense brush thicket. He poked his nose into the bush and received a sharp swipe in response.

Liam reared up. He watched the brush for signs of movement, absolutely still but for the wind ruffling his fur. A moment passed and he was able to pick out a series of even, panting breaths. A second moment passed and his sharp gaze identified the glint of an eye, the curve of a rump pressed close the ground. Liam’s tail flicked side to side. He fell onto his side in a lax pose, let his tongue roll out of his mouth and began to wait.

Time stretched and the moon shifted across the sky. The creature in the thicket finally climbed to its feet. It backed out of the hiding place and Liam leapt up, instantly alert. The reluctant wolf came to a stop beside the thicket. It was long and narrow, with a youthful, gangling look. Short, ruffled brown fur and yellow eyes. The ears lay flat against its skull, tail hanging curled around the legs. Liam circled the animal. It was male. He sniffed and rubbed against the animal’s side, nipping its heels. The wolf jumped in response and then resumed its previous posture.

Liam decided to hang back, sit on his haunches, and just watch. The other male made a few shuffling steps in the other direction, and peered back. Its ears twitched. Liam trotted over, coming to stop just a few feet away. He beat his tail against the packed dirt. The rest of the pack had gathered in the clearing and he could hear their calls. The red wolf turned a wide circle around Liam and started back. Liam followed, sniffing at the male’s heels. Its scent was somehow a familiar, pleasant, and he breathed deep as if to coat his insides with it. The male smelled of pine and fresh, damp earth. It was a heady mix.

They were close to the clearing when the red wolf stopped. He turned in circles for a minute and pawed at the earth. He lay down on his side and Liam joined him. He huffed and nosed the back of the animal’s neck and put his head down. By the time he opened his eyes he was lying flat on his back, twigs and small rocks digging into his skin. A ladybug traversed his big toe. He sat up.

The position of the sun in the eastern sky told him it was still early, probably not quite six. Looking at the body curled beside him, Liam wanted to laugh. Instead he buried his face into the warm neck and breathed deep.

“Hey,” Brendon protested.

Liam bit down gently and pressed his body close. He was stiff already, and ground his hips against Brendon’s ass.

“Uh, whoa. Hey.” Brendon rolled away from him and leapt to his feet. He held his hands out in front of him. “None of that, all right? Someone might see.”

Liam jumped to his feet, horny and energized and feeling pretty goddamn good. He swung his arms up over his head in a huge stretch, breathing in the morning air. His shoulders popped and he rocked his upper body from side to side. He felt invigorated, alive. “So?” He didn’t care who saw. He wanted them to see. This was what he’d come for, what he’d dreamt of all these months.

Brendon snorted and gave him a look that Liam was now coming to recognize. It bespoke irritation and frank disbelief.

“Look, I realize you’re from Big Fucking City, California but this is Wyoming. Things are a little different around here.” He lapsed into moody silence. Liam didn’t mind, he was busy looking over his mate. Long legs, defined calves, narrow hips. A hint of a belly. Skinny, lightly muscled arms. Fantastic dick.

Brendon quickly covered himself. “Stop that,” he said.

“I’m just looking.”

“Like what you see?” he snapped, turning away.

“Yes. What are you looking for?”

“My clothes. Here they are.” Brendon pulled out a plastic wrapped bundle from behind a tree. He dressed quickly with his back to Liam, who took the opportunity to admire a tight, round ass.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” he asked, finally.

Pulling a faded black t-shirt over his head, Brendon answered. “I know it’s weird. And embarrassing.”

“Weird?” Liam echoed, cut by Brendon’s fast disregard. “It’s not so bad.

Brendon shot him a sour look and headed back to the clearing. He’d left his bike chained to a tree there.

Liam followed. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

God damn it. The initial flush of pleasure gave way to frustration. Nothing ever went easy with Brendon Cobb, did it? In two long strides he caught up and grabbed hold of Brendon’s arm.

“Goddamn it, would you stop for just a minute?”

Brendon went rigid. “Let go,” he said tightly.

“No.” Liam used his bulk to back Brendon up against a tree.

Brendon’s eyes flashed and twin spots of color appeared high on his cheeks. His mouth thinned to a tight, grim line. “Let go.”

“Not before you talk to me.”

Brendon’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I am,” he bit out, glaring.

The corner of Liam’s mouth twitched. He loosened his grip, but did not let go. “Something more than two syllable sentences.”

Brendon dropped his gaze. He seemed to calm somewhat. “You’re naked.”

“Yes.”

“Can we talk after you stop being naked?”

“Why? Don’t you like what you see?”

Brendon gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

Liam let go. He looked down at himself, and then back at Brendon. He spread his arms in a gesture that said, well?

Brendon’s gaze flitted down, lingered, and moved quickly back up again, fastening on Liam’s eyes. “Uh, yeah. I mean duh, you’re like. Totally built.”

Liam smiled, pleased. “Come by for dinner.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. Why not?”

Brendon eyed him with great hostility. He ground his teeth for a long minute and then looked suddenly away. “You cooking?”

“If that’s what you want.” Liam thought he could manage pasta well enough. “Or we could order in. Or go out.” He thought for a minute. “Or get drinks. Or go to the carnival. Whatever you want.” He shut up.

Brendon frowned at the dirt. “We could go out somewhere.”

“Fine.” Anywhere, Liam thought.

Brendon shot him a long look. “And this isn’t what you think it is.”

Liam pounced. “And what is that?”

Brendon shook his head, smiling very faintly. He wouldn’t say it. “It’s not. There’s just no way.”

“Why?”

Brendon gaped at him. “Um, hello? We’re both dudes. Two dudes cannot be… that. What you’re thinking. Even if that were real, because it’s not.”

“It is real.”

“It isn’t. Jesus.” Brendon pushed off from the tree and stomped through the brush. Liam followed. “Have you ever even seen a mated couple?” Brendon called over his shoulder. They were in the clearing now. Most of the pack had left, only two trucks remained. One was Liam’s, and the other, of course, belonged to Elijah.

“Shit,” Brendon muttered. He found his bike and quickly thumbed the combination lock. It clicked and he unwound the chain, stuffing it into the small vinyl bag attached to the down tube.

“Let me give you a ride home.” Liam had pulled on a pair of jeans by now. The top button was undone and Brendon found his gaze snagged by the dark curling hairs running up a flat, muscled stomach, past a tight navel. Liam pulled on a snug looking blue thermal.

Brendon averted his eyes, swinging one leg over the bike. “I’m all right.” He caught sight of Elijah, emerging fully dressed from around the cab of his truck. Brendon guided his bike toward the flat trail, dragging his sneakers in the dirt. His father was trying to catch his eye.

“I promise I won’t bite.” Liam said, behind him.

“That’s what they all say. Right before they trap the intrepid hero in their evil lair.” He squinted at Liam, who just stood waiting with a silly grin plastered across his face. Brendon heaved a huge sigh, and stopped on the trail. “Okay. Fine.”

He let Liam store his bike in the bed of the truck while he jumped into the cab, studiously ignoring his father’s glare. He heard Liam call something, and Elijah gave a short reply, then he climbed into his own truck, and Liam was pulling the driver’s side door open.

He climbed in and slammed the door shut. He jammed the key into the ignition and the engine sputtered a minute before roaring to life. They followed the rocky trail out and soon Liam had them pulling onto the highway. It was a long, dusty road, typical of the areas just outside town.

“You ride your bike all this way?” Liam asked him.

Brendon thought that should have been obvious, but recognized the question for what it was. He hated small talk. “Yeah,” he said, glumly.

Liam glanced at him. “Sounds dangerous. If something happened…”

Brendon shot him a dry look. “Like what? I crash my bike and it bursts into flames?”

Liam merely offered that easy smile, and Brendon quickly turned his head back to the window. Infuriating, he thought.

“Hey, are you hungry? I’m starved.”

“I knew it!” Brendon crowed, turning on him. “I knew you weren’t just driving me home.”

Liam looked hurt. “I’m just asking. I’m always hungry in the morning. Especially after nights like that. Back home my whole pack eats together the next day. Fried eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage…” He was already licking his chops. “Wish you all had something like that here.”

Brendon sank back into his seat. His belly offered a questioning burp. “I think they do,” he said, after a long moment of companionable silence. “Sometimes.”

Liam perked up.

“I don’t know where,” Brendon cut in, “So don’t ask.”

They were back in town, passing by the post office, the fire department, the dog park. Brendon could feel Liam’s eyes burning into the back of his head. There was a small diner up ahead, and Liam pulled into the parking lot.

“You’re a rude little bastard, aren’t you?”

Brendon ignored him, arms folded moodily over his chest.

Liam unclasped his seatbelt and climbed out of the truck. He leaned his head in the open window. “I’ll be in there.” He pointed. “You can join me… or you can take your little bike and go home.”

Brendon watched him enter the diner and greet Fiona, whose instant affections were felt even in the parking lot. “Fucker,” Brendon muttered to himself, and kicked the door open. He stomped into the diner and scowled at the tinkling bells over the door. He stalked over to a booth in the back and sat across from a tall, open menu.

“My treat,” the menu said. Brendon plucked one for himself from behind the collection of condiments to his left and looked it over.

He already knew what he wanted. The menu had not changed since he was six, and neither had his appetite. Fiona appeared then, bright and chipper, her red hair tucked into the ever present white cap, and held up a steaming pot of black.

“Coffee?” she asked, sugar sweet. Her gaze fell to Brendon and immediately soured.

He turned over the brown mug before him and tapped its rim. “Right here, Mrs. B.”

She poured for him in stony silence. “And you?” she asked Liam, noticeably cooler.

Liam blinked at her. “Tea, please.”

She turned away.

Liam watched her go, and Brendon watched Liam. Receiving the black bag and hot water, Liam turned his gaze on Brendon in quiet astonishment. His eyes were dark and blue. “Does this happen everywhere you go?” he asked.

Brendon stirred half and half into his coffee. He blew cool air over the liquid and sipped cautiously. “Sometimes,” he admitted, feeling pleased.

“Wow,” said Liam.

Brendon smiled into his mug.

Liam paid and Brendon resisted conversation during the ride back to his studio. Liam pushed and needled and finally Brendon snapped, “Yes, I’ll be here,” and slammed the door shut behind him. He stalked around the vehicle to retrieve his bike but Liam was already there, lifting it easily, the sleeves of his thermal stretching over hard muscle.

“Who’s your friend?” Liam asked, looking past him.

Brendon looked over his shoulder. Miles was there, already climbing to his feet. He waved. Brendon snorted and turned away. “Nobody,” he told Liam. “He’s just picking something up.”

Liam slipped his hands into his pockets. “If you say so,” he said easily. He looked at Brendon with something like fondness in his gaze. Brendon had never seen that shade of blue in someone’s eyes before. It was really very striking, he thought. Feeling a sudden warmth fill his cheeks, he looked away, fingers squeezing around the handlebars of his bike.

“So, um, thanks,” he said. “For breakfast.”

“How does eight sound?” Liam asked.

Brendon squinted at him. “Huh?”

Liam laughed. It came deep and easy, like he did that sort of thing a lot. “When I pick you up. Eight o’clock?”

“Oh.” Duh. Brendon stared down at his feet, feeling uncharacteristically flustered. What was it about this guy, he wondered, wanting to be angry. “Yeah,” he said, going for ambivalence. “Sure.”

Liam’s grin lit up his whole face. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

Brendon watched him climb into the truck and wheel it around, heading back for town. Miles came up behind him. “Hey, that’s that guy,” he said.

Brendon walked his bike toward the studio. “Yep.”

“That guy from California.”

“Yep.” He let himself in and Miles followed close behind. The studio smelled like oil and freshly cut wood. Shavings littered the floor. Brendon hadn’t swept the place in about a week and wood particles floated in the air; he imagined he had a layer a couple of inches thick sitting at the bottom of his lungs.

Miles stared at him as he leaned his bike against the radiator, sitting dead and cold against the wall. “Isn’t he trying to like, buy up your dad’s business?”

“Yes, Miles.” Something like that. They crossed the studio and climbed up the stairs. Brendon unlocked the door to his living space and they went in. Miles’ eyes were huge.

“Did he make you an offer?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Whoa.”

Brendon found his bag where he kept it under the sink and undid the strap. He lay everything on the counter and said, “So, the usual?”