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  Love at First Mate

  Badlands Territory, Book 7

  Dani Wyatt

  Copyright © 2020

  by Dani Wyatt

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,

  events and incidents are either the products

  of the author’s imagination

  or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  is purely coincidental.

  www.daniwyatt.com

  Editing Nicci Haydon

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Join Me

  Love at First Mate

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Other Titles By Dani Wyatt

  Let’s Stay Connected!

  About Dani

  Thank You

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  Love at First Mate

  Who knew my undoing would drive into the Badlands in an orange and white VW Bus?

  I’ve spent my life avoiding what most shifters wait their whole life to find.

  Their mate.

  Not me. I want none of it. It’s too risky. For her and for me.

  But, she keeps showing up. Wynter Wyatt is tempting me and my resolve is weakening.

  Just when I think I have it under control, enter one meddling grandmother, a small cabin in the woods, and my inner bear decides it’s time to take charge.

  Wynter opens my heart, making me forget the terrors of my past. Until, the very thing that tore my family apart, returns and threatens to take her from me.

  Will history repeat itself? Or will love and forgiveness give us both a new start.

  Reader’s Note: This surly shifter is about to get throat punched by a curvy brunette driving a hippy mobile. They have a bumpy start, but once the clothes start flying, these two steam up the Badlands until the snow starts melting from the mountaintops. Oh, and yep, they’re both first timers, so get ready to hear those cherries go POP! Safe, insta-love, over the top with all the furry goodness a bear shifter from the Badlands can offer.

  Chapter 1

  Ragnar

  It’s way goddamn inconvenient walking around with a hard-on half the day.

  It’s been a month ago today this shit started.

  I stepped out of Josephine’s Bar and Grill, with a double mushroom and bacon burger as take out for my grandmother, and it was then that I heard the rumbling exhaust, as a faded orange and white VW Bus came sputtering down Main Street.

  I knew immediately, whoever was driving that creamsicle wasn’t local. The Badlands aren’t so small I know everyone, but VW Buses would be something I’d remember.

  I stood there in the early September sun, the wind having that perfect fall scent, and watched as the bus puffed and lurched down to Mackie’s Garage and pulled in.

  My Ford F250 was parked on the street in that direction, and before I knew it my legs were carrying me forward.

  And that’s when it happened.

  The thing I’ve been dreading my whole life.

  The thing I hoped beyond hope wouldn’t happen to me.

  I saw my mate.

  It was just like everyone always said. You go along, nothing, nothing, nothing, thinking you’re going to be the anomaly, the one shifter that goes their whole life without finding their one. The one in a hundred generations that somehow skips that gene.

  The one shifter I’d hoped I’d be.

  Fuck. No chance. She hit me like a cannonball of lust and greed and need, and just like that a fire of possessiveness and rage lit inside of me, burning down any hope of never finding my mate.

  Since then, I’ve turned into a fucking maniac. And so has my dick.

  Running into her a few times around town, she’s always fucking smiling, even at me, surly motherfucker that I am. But all I do is grunt and turn away as my dick and my inner bear try to convince me to stop fighting what all three of us know to be true.

  She’s the one.

  The perfect shade of brunette, her hair in French braids and azure-blue eyes that make my heart convulse in my chest. The way she looks like she’s the most innocent vixen a cruel god could have created, with those pouty lips, cherub cheeks, and an ass for days. My dreams are filled with her on her knees, on her back, begging and drooling and screaming my name as I fuck her into a ragged mess, my teeth marks on her ivory flesh, growling mine, mine, mine…

  Fuck, stop.

  I can’t. I can’t give into that side of me. I have to fight it.

  And I have my reasons.

  I shake my head, gritting my teeth, trying to get the scent of her out of my mind as try to get my head back on my work. But, the vision of her ass in those painted on, too-fucking-tight jeans she wore that first day drive my hammer onto the nail head so hard it splits the oak board down the center.

  “God damn it!”

  But, it’s not just my out-of-control dick that’s making me crazed. It’s that my bear is ready to tear through my flesh every thirty-seconds, growling and possessive, ready to fight to the death to get to her.

  Growing up in the Badlands Territory as a shifter has its pros and cons. It’s great to have general acceptance in the community. Shifters of all kinds live here and the surrounding areas. But, for me, I’ve fought that part of me for so long. If it wasn’t for my grandmother, I would have left here a long fucking time ago.

  The bad part is, it’s hard to pretend you are like most of the rest of the world. Hard to pretend all the things you’ve been told your life will be like aren’t going to come true. That shifters don’t have to be the way they’ve been for as far back as the stories go.

  “Rag!” I hear Wayne call, and I turn around, watching him come through the front door of the house we’re working on.

  I’m more than just a handyman. Sure, I can do almost anything when it comes to the building trades, but my real talent—and what I was hired to do in this McMansion—is high-end finish work on intricate mantles and book cases and shit like that. Working with my hands suits me, keeps me tired from long days and hard work.

  “What?” I snap, and he smiles as he raises his hands.

  “Dude.” He comes closer and my bear roars inside me, so fucking irritable with everyone lately. “You gonna get some CBD or something? Because your mood has been for shit for a month.”

  “What do you need?” I bark back and he shakes his head, reaching down and pulling the thick leather toolbelt up on his hips, then he jerks a pointed thumb over his shoulder toward the toolshed.

  “We’re outta gas for the generator and the air compressor. You want me to run the truck to the station and fill up the tank in the bed?”

  I look around the jobsite. There are five guys standing around doing nothing and I should stay here and finish this fireplace mantle, but I need some fresh air. I’m not the foreman, he’s another friend of mine, Jerome, a panther shifter but I don’t hold that against him, but the guys treat me like I’m in charge because I’ve been doing this a long time, and the real boss puts me in the driver’s seat when he’s not on sit
e.

  “Naw. I’ll go. I’ll pick up some soda and snacks for the guys. A twelve pack for the end of the day.” I set my hammer down, tug back on the end of my tool belt and release the buckle, letting it fall and setting it on the floor next to my tools. “I could use the air.”

  Wayne chuckles. “You could use something.”

  I growl as I pull my phone out and see it’s closing in on 4 PM. I need to call Gran anyway. I call her every morning, again around 4, then one last time at 9:30 when she’s heading to bed. Although, lately, that last call of the night can get a little awkward.

  “You okay?” Wayne asks. “I’ve know you for almost twelve years, never seen you like this. Myra okay? You know we all care about your grandmother, man.”

  Everyone who knows me at all, soon gets to understand that when it comes to the priorities in my life my grandmother is at the top of the food chain. I’d do anything for her, just like she’s always done for me.

  I nod. “Yeah, she’s fine. I’m just…in a fucking mood.”

  “Your bear finally convincing you looking for your mate might be a good idea? Release some of that pressure?”

  I draw my brows tight, my fingers curling into fists, and inside my bear growls. “Just get them something to do until I get back.” I jerk my head toward the five guys standing around, jack-jawing. “They’re still getting paid, they can sweep the floor or take the trash out.”

  I grunt as I head outside, noting their uncomfortable glances my way. I know I’ve been an ass ever since I saw her that day. Well, more of an ass, I should say. Hell, fighting off these feelings is like pushing a boulder up a hill and every day it’s getting worse.

  But I have no choice.

  I have my reasons for not wanting to find my mate. Ever.

  Being celibate sucks, sure, but I’m not trolling for tail just to get my rocks off. Some shifters can do that but not me. I’m caught between a boulder and an oncoming locomotive.

  My reasons for never wanting to find my mate don’t seem to be important to my bear anymore though. We’ve always seen eye to eye on that, but from the first moment when we caught her scent on the air, from the second her blue eyes turned my way and she smiled… Nothing’s been the same.

  And I’m afraid my time is running out.

  Chapter 2

  Wynter

  “The usual?” Josephine, the owner and bartender at her namesake place, Josephine’s, smiles, wiping her hands on the white towel over her shoulder.

  “Sure.” I smile back, rubbing my hands down the tops of my thighs. “Tall.”

  “You got it. One tall Raspberry Lemonade coming up.” She spins around, grabbing a chilled glass from the cooler and starts mixing up my drink. “Any news on the space down the street?”

  I stop rubbing my legs and grip my knees, feeling the tension in my neck and fighting the urge to look over my shoulder every time someone comes in the door of the bar.

  It’s been almost a month since I got to the Badlands, nearly a thousand miles away from the reason I keep looking over my shoulder, but old habits and all.

  Josephine sets the glass on a napkin in front of me and I lean forward, taking the straw between my lips and drawing in the sweet, cool liquid. It transports me back to Bowling Green, where I grew up. My mother made the best raspberry lemonade from fresh raspberries that grew all along the dirt road where we lived.

  When I come up for a breath, I realize I didn’t answer her question.

  “Oh.” I smack my lips and twirl the glass on the napkin. “I’m meeting Robert in about twenty minutes. Wanted to settle my nerves a bit before I go see the space.”

  “That’s awesome. That shop’s been empty for going on four months I think.”

  “Yeah. I’ve just never started a business before. There’s so much I don’t know.”

  “Well, you can always call Clay, he’s one of the attorneys in town. He’s fair and will give you good advice. Robert, on the other hand…” She bobs her head back and forth. “Just, let’s say, keep your guard up. I don’t know him that well, but he’s got that creepy, used car salesman vibe.”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “I know. He sold me my house.”

  I don’t offer any other info because I don’t like to gossip, and being the new person in town you never really know who’s connected to who.

  Truth is, I almost didn’t call on the little storefront space in town because it was also listed by Robert. It’s not that he seems like a bad guy or anything. It’s just, well, like Josephine said, there’s just this creeper factor that makes you feel like he’s trying to imagine you naked.

  “It will be fine. I’m excited for you.” Josephine interrupts my thoughts. “I can’t really think of any other good photographers that are local. There are a few in other towns not far, but from what you showed me of your work?” She shrugs on another of her award-winning smiles. “You’re going to do great. There’s a wedding around here like once a month. And babies?” She laughs, as if there was something else she was going to say, but then shakes her head. “Let’s just say there’s got to be something in the water, because couples around here don’t have one or two, they have a brood. So, between weddings and baby pictures, you’ll have your hands full. Then doing studio work too? Like I said, I’m excited for you!”

  She claps her hands on a little jump that makes the messy bun of her long burgundy hair bounce, then she makes her way out from behind the bar.

  I spin a bit on my stool, taking another sip of my drink as I see her go to a table with a guy and gal I’ve seen around town. She’s sitting on his lap and he’s got a look in his eye that clearly is telling any other guys in the vicinity that coming close to his woman would be a bad idea.

  I feel invasive just looking at them. It’s like they are having sex with their eyes.

  This is definitely an unusual area. Most of the men around here are…huge. Rough and surly, but protective, and I can almost see them baring their teeth like an animal whenever they are with their women.

  The women too, don’t get me wrong. So many are beautiful, but there’s a toughness to a lot of them and they seem to have that same mama bear vibe.

  Then there’s the torn-up clothes I see all around the area.

  I first noticed a pair of ripped up jeans and a flannel shirt along the tree line behind the house I bought on the edge of town. Then, when I was in the park one day taking a walk, there was another pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, only those had blood on them and were shredded as well.

  I’ve seen others, women’s clothes too, but I never see anything in the local paper about any violent crimes so it’s a bit weird. But even with those eccentricities I’ve noticed since I arrived in the Badlands, I’ve never felt more at home.

  I remember the day I arrived, my van was sputtering along the last mile into town and I stopped at the first service station I could find. I’d been driving for days and was happy to have found a town with a mechanic. There was so much to do to settle in someplace new, and I wasn’t even sure about staying.

  Not until I saw him, anyway.

  I stepped out of the van, stretching my back, smelling the clean, pine air and feeling good for the first time in months. Then as I looked around, there he was. Staring at me from down Main Street. Jeans, gray t-shirt, boots, dark hair. Nothing special there, right?

  Wrong. So, so wrong.

  The way he walked first caught my eye. Like a caged animal pacing. You know, the way they take long, slow steps, shoulders high, eyes narrow?

  I felt like he was stalking me, but when I smiled, he stopped dead. The flutter in my stomach nearly doubled me over. He was the biggest man I’d ever seen, and a flash of fear collided with a raw lust inside me that left me breathless.

  But my smile must have woken him from some trance, because he dropped his eyes, quickened his steps, got into a giant red Ford Pickup and peeled away.

  Since then, I’ve seen him a few other times, but every time I run into him, I can’t help get
ting this stupid huge smile on my face and he looks at me like a serial killer and bolts in the other direction.

  “Love,” Josephine says crooking her neck at the couple she just waited on. “I see another wedding on the way. You better get your business up and running fast.”

  “Yeah.” I give her a half-hearted agreement just as my phone tings and I look down at the screen as I sip my drink through the straw.

  It’s Robert. He says he’s there at the shop so come on inside when I get there, he’ll be in the back.

  My stomach flips. The idea of starting my own business has me excited about my future, but nervous I’ll fall flat on my face.

  I want to honor my mother and the legacy she provided for me. She worked hard raising me, working as a legal secretary but we weren’t rich by any standards. She and my father were high-school sweethearts, that’s until she got pregnant, then, he changed his mind.

  We lived with her parents for a few years after I was born but they both passed away before I turned three and my father, he paid a pittance of child support for a few years before evaporating. Word was he moved to Thailand, but I don’t remember him and any more child support was never forthcoming.

  Despite the less than ideal circumstances, my mom was always on top of things throughout our life. And even in her death, she did what she could to set me up for success.