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  Tempering Steel: Coyote Bluff Series Book 2

  Lea Barrymire

  Published by Lea Barrymire at Smashwords

  Copyright 2014 Lea Barrymire

  Cover Photography by Kruse Images and Photography

  http://www.kruseimagesandphotography.com/

  Modeling by Frederick Wingate

  https://www.facebook.com/FrederickWingateNPC

  Cover created by Lea Barrymire

  Edited by Rebecca Hill

  Discover other titles by Lea Barrymire at

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  Tempering Steel: Coyote Bluff Series Blurb

  After months of aching to be with grumpy Sheriff Connor Manning, Margarete Barrie finally gets her chance when a coyote shifter takes refuge in her home. She burns with need every time they’re close, but even she can only take rejection so many times before giving up.

  Connor’s resolve to stay away from Margie weakens when she takes in his packmate. Fighting his inner animal and jealousy makes him question his decision to leave women and love alone.

  They’re thrown together to catch a trapper or hunter threatening the pack. But once things start to heat up even the possibility of danger doesn’t cool the tension between them.

  Dedication

  For every reader who has embraced this series and has waited to meet Connor. Hope you enjoy him as much as I have.

  Chapter One

  “Here we go again.” Margarete sighed loudly and spoke to the empty house while she scowled out her window.

  Watching Connor Manning AKA Big Bad Coyote-Shifting Sheriff pull into her parking area brought a flutter to her stomach and a flush of heat to her panties. She hated her body’s response to the jerk. Didn’t it know she despised him? That he was the bane of her existence and had been causing her enough anxiety to require medication?

  Her hormones didn’t care. They craved him, his nearness, his minimal touch and the zing of energy that sprang between them anytime they brushed against each other. She burned with a horrible need for him, leaving her weak in the knees, breathless and internally swooning every time he was around. And she hated it even more that he knew the reaction she had to him.

  Stupid shifters and their senses.

  Now that she knew shifters were real, and her suspicions about the town of Coyote Bluff had been substantiated, Margie looked at everything with different eyes. Connor’s movements were smooth and fluid, like those of a predator. He climbed out of his truck with a grace only exotic dancers should have, all loose hipped and sensual. His six-foot frame didn’t hamper him or cause him to lumber like most large men. No, he stalked, glided from the vehicle to the steps of her porch. A slight sigh of longing escaped her lips when his flexing denim-covered leg muscles caught her eye.

  Damn, the man can wear a pair of jeans. She groaned.

  And every shirt he owned looked as if it’d been tailored for him. The fabric stretched perfectly across wide shoulders and bulging pecs. If he raised his arms up she’d see the bumps and valleys of his amazing abs. She clenched her thighs together to stem the heat building in her clit.

  It wasn’t his body that so captivated her, though. Although she liked watching him walk and had chided herself a few times for obsessing about his ass. His eyes were what drew her. Her heart was like a freaking bat sensing a tinfoil ball, diving and dipping anytime their gazes met. His gorgeous dark eyes were surrounded by long eyelashes and deeply set in a manly, work-hardened face. The depth of his stare dug right into her soul, seeing things she dared not show anyone.

  And this is where you jump off the train, look around and realize he’s an asshole.

  She snorted. Maybe “asshole” was too harsh. But he wasn’t the kindly backwoods sheriff either. The man had made it his mission to make her life hell. Her body would heat with each eye popping fill of his wide, muscular shoulders, or when he’d bend just right so she had to bite her lip instead of the butt he inadvertently displayed. She felt as if she were a sex-craved man stalking a virtuous teen, the pervert on the street corner hoping for a gust of wind to lift some maiden’s skirt. And the worst part was he really had no clue what he did to her. Sure, his senses would catch her heartbeat racing, or the light change in her breathing, but to know she ached deep in her bones for a single touch? No. Or if he knew, he’d been doing a damn fine job of ignoring her.

  With the scuffle at Cammie’s house and the injury to Zeke, Margie had seen more of the sheriff than she’d ever wanted. Okay, that wasn’t true either. She’d have liked to see him naked and spread out on her bedspread, but with him not giving her the time of day she was left exasperated and frustrated. When Zeke had been relocated to her home, Connor had deemed it necessary to drive her insane.

  Every day for the last week he’d shown up, gruff and non-communicative, grunting one-word answers to her numerous questions and ignoring anything he didn’t want to respond to. He spread his grumpy aura all through her house one heavy-booted step at a time. And for what? He never really said anything. He’d come in, tip his hat at her like some gentlemanly cowboy, and stare at the coyote curled up in her kitchen.

  Glancing over at the empty corner reminded her she needed to call Zeke and check on him. Although now that he was able to get into his human form, she didn’t need to be his doctor anymore. Strange and wondrous things had been happening for days. Months, really, if she thought back on it all. Shifters, Alphas and packs were all real, living and existing in their little town. She’d been treating some of them for over a year, guessing something was different about the animals she’d been caring for. Zeke, Ian…even Connor had been under her careful vet hands a time or two.

  But the biggest revelations had all come crashing down around her shoulders seven long days before. She’d lived in relative certainty that some of the animals she’d treated hadn’t been just animals, but surmising and knowing were two completely different worlds to her. The moment Margie’s friend Cammie happened to have a wolf run into her car, the entire structure of the women’s lives had changed.

  A knock at the door ripped Margie from her thoughts. She’d been doing that often—staring off into nowhere, deep in thoughts of shifters and Connor. Wrinkling her nose at the idea of him once again wandering around being a Grumpy Gus didn’t improve her mood.

  A deep, fortifying breath helped to steady her nerves and cool the banked fire in her gut.

  Damn hormones and traitorous body.

  With a quick shake she settled her hair back from her face and steeled her nerves. The squeak of the doorknob turning sounded loud even as her heart started beating faster and blood pounded in her ears.

  Couldn’t she just hate him for a minute? Long enough to open the door and make him go away? Her body laughed at her as it merrily warmed, her skin sensitizing under the outpouring of endorphins. Good grief, she was living like a pod-person in a body not her own.

  “What’s up, Connor?”

  Good—voice is steady.

  She held on to the door frame and door, blocking his entry into her kitchen.

  “Came by to check on Zeke.”

  His voice stroked her nerves and a fresh rush of warmth pooled in her belly. If she could have smacked herself in the forehead, she would have. She didn’t want to want him. He’d made it blatantly clear he didn�
�t have any intention of dating her. But her damn body—and if she was perfectly honest, her heart—wanted Connor Manning like she wanted a hot fudge sundae. Covered in chocolate and whipped cream, maybe melting down her throat.

  Was that a moan? Margie winced as the heat of a blush worked up her neck.

  Great. You’re thinking about Connor and sticky sex, and now you’re blushing.

  It didn’t matter how upset she became with herself—every time she ran into him it was the same thing. Her body went on notice and she ended up blushing because of some internal monologue.

  Climbing back out of her head, she found piercing brown eyes watching her with an intensity she feared.

  Get it together, punkin, you’re making a fool of yourself. Like she didn’t know that. Zeke. Answer the question about Zeke.

  “He’s not here. I cleared him this morning after he shifted. So you can run along back to town and do whatever it is you do.” Margie flipped a hand out and flopped it around, watching the irritation slowly register on Connor’s face. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

  “Did you see him shift?” His words were tinged with something close to anger.

  “No. Why? Is that against the all-powerful shifter rules? Hmm?”

  Connor’s eyes narrowed minutely before he shook his head.

  Margie couldn’t help but smirk at him. For once she had the upper hand, and if he was going to stand at her door and let her release some frustration on him, who was she to question it?

  “No? So, why the clenched jaw, sheriff? He wasn’t under house arrest was he? I don’t remember being asked to keep him leashed while he recuperated here. What he’d do? Chew your favorite slippers? Piss on your truck tire? Bark too long at the moo—”

  “Damn it, Margie. Shut up. We aren’t fucking dogs.” Mr. Cool-and-Collected shoved a hand across his short, military-length hair. “Is he coming back here tonight?”

  Mysteries and sneaky behavior were two of her triggers. Puzzles, no matter how difficult, had her nose twitching and her fingers itching for a pen and paper. What had the sheriff so fired up? She’d guess he was angry, but why?

  Zeke had been shot at Cammie’s house, taking a bullet for her. The shooter, Asshole Ron, had died and had been taken care of according to the Alpha’s orders. There wasn’t anything left open. Zeke had been the hero. What could possibly be going on to have Connor standing on her porch, looking pissed off and edgy?

  “Is there another crazy ex-boyfriend in the woods? Is that what this is? Christ, Connor, if it’s some idiot wandering around with a gun or something, just say so.”

  “No.” He looked away, and that move alone had her on edge. He never broke eye-contact first. Ever.

  “All joking aside, what’s going on? You’re starting to freak me out.”

  His gaze swung back immediately, and she could see the resolve gleaming from the dark depths of his eyes. “Sorry, Margie. I don’t mean to worry you. I came by for two reasons. First I was going to check on Zeke, but as you’ve said, he’s gone. I also wanted to know if you’d accompany me to Cammie and Ian’s mating ceremony on Saturday.”

  Her mind froze. Mating ceremony. Go with him? Together? “Um.”

  “You don’t have to, but I thought seeing I’d be driving by your house and you don’t know the way to the farm, I could pick you up.”

  The small flutter of hope died a tragic, fiery death in her chest. “Right. You’re going to be driving by anyway, and I, being a woman and all, might have a tough time following directions. I see.”

  Something that sounded close to “stupid moron” fell from his lips, too quiet for Margie to hear. It didn’t matter. She’d taken as much shit from the man she’d craved for over two years as she could.

  “Connor Manning, you will leave my property right now, or you’ll be held responsible for my actions. I’ve had enough of your redneck, condescending, male-chauvinist bullshit to last me a lifetime. I have a fucking GPS in my car and know damn well where the farm is. I’ve been treating you people ever since I moved here. Hell, Skip has a tab account now because I spend so much time out there. And anyway, Zeke already asked me if I wanted to go with him. You don’t need to take care of lil’ ol’ me.”

  She took a breath and tried to close the door, but Connor’s hand snaked out faster than she could move and stopped her from slamming the heavy wooden door shut in his face.

  “God damn it. What do you mean Zeke already asked you? And you agreed? No way in hell are you going with him. Look, I’m sorry I pissed you off. I didn’t mean it that way. Christ, whenever I’m around you I sound like a country bumpkin. I really want to take you to the mating ceremony.” He pushed the door open a little, stepped close to her and lowered his head. His voice changed and softened. “Please?”

  If he’d just left it there, she would’ve been able to turn him down. But when she caught a glimpse of the puppy-dog eyes and the lower lip stuck out, she couldn’t help but laugh. Her anger evaporated under the gleam of laughter in his eyes and the hint of dimples in his cheeks.

  Scowling even as her lips trembled with a suppressed smile, she said, “I can’t believe you pulled that look on me. Fine. I told Zeke I was driving myself anyway. I’ll go with you, but I’m drinking and you’ll be making sure I don’t molest anyone.”

  The growl that vibrated deep in the man’s chest nearly had her melting into a puddle at his feet. She was sure it would’ve been terrifying to anyone else, but it was the sexiest thing she’d heard in a long time. The reminder of his animal nature, the fact that his coyote rode so close to his skin, made her pussy throb. Bad boys always had drawn her in like a moth to a flame, and the results usually ended up the same. Burned or at least singed when the guy walked away.

  “Down, puppy, I’m kidding.” The ugly glare she received after chuckling was well worth the comment. Her pussy-wetting nemesis headed to the door and she couldn’t help one more dig. “See you in a couple of days. Remember you’re my DD. I tend to get handsy when I’m drunk.”

  The door slammed behind a muttering sheriff and she shivered. An image of them plastered together, swaying next to a bonfire after a few drinks, played like a soft porn flick in her mind. She’d have to be careful on Saturday or she might find herself doing things to her reluctant date that she’d only dreamed of.

  *****

  Fuck.

  Connor needed to get a grip on his responses to Margie. He slammed his truck door and snarled at the woman as she watched him from her kitchen window.

  She knew every button and gloried in pushing them. But the image of her coming on to one of his packmates made his blood boil. The human was his.

  No. Damn it, she wasn’t his, even if he felt the fever, the spark between them, every time he was close to her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t take the leap of faith again. Not after Lisa. He growled again and swallowed the sound immediately.

  Fucking women. Nothing but problems.

  The attraction to Margie was intense and terrified him. His reaction to Lisa hadn’t been as intense but it had been close. Connor rubbed his chest when the pain started. Sighing, he pushed away the memories, the betrayal and the shattered heart. He needed to go see Zeke and he needed to get away from Margie.

  His cell phone was in his hand before he even made it onto the road. He tried to keep his strength contained and his anger under wraps while he punched in the mechanic’s home number.

  “Yeah. Zeke here.”

  “You fucker,” Connor growled.

  “Connor, buddy. Keep it down. I just made it home and my head is killing me. What’s the problem?” Zeke’s voice sounded tired and a wisp of regret wound through Connor’s mind.

  “You asked Margie to the mating?”

  A pause hung between them. Connor maneuvered his vehicle around a tight turn and headed toward town.

  “Um. Yeah. I shifted and thought I’d take her to the ceremony as thanks for taking care of me. What’s the deal, C?”

  Connor s
ighed. “Sorry, man. I’m all twisted up over that woman. She’s like…a thorn in my side. I don’t particularly like her, but I want her. And to hear her tell me you were taking her to the ceremony…” He thumped his head against the headrest. “I sort of lost my shit. How you doing? Do you need anything?”

  The sound of laughter was loud enough that Connor was forced to rip the phone away from his ear. Even from that distance he could hear Zeke’s hysteria. “Fuck, Connor, you’ve had it bad for Margie since she moved here. We all know not to touch her. Shit. You’re killing me.” The coyote continued to gasp and laugh. “I was…I was just trying to be friends with her. Dude. My ribs hurt. You’re so deep over her. Ow, fuck. Laughing hurts.”

  Connor pushed the end button and let loose a vicious snarl. He didn’t need his friends rubbing it in that he’d been so blatantly obvious about his attraction to Margie. His lip curled and he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. “Fucker.”

  Margie was like the finest wine and the worst curse. The first time he’d seen her in Coyote Bluff, dressed in nothing but a pair of worn jeans and dusty T-shirt, he’d been drawn to her. Connor had hoped that with the passing of time the attraction and potential connection would melt away and leave him free. If anything it’d grown stronger, to the point where he’d found himself driving by her home daily to assure himself she was safe.

  She was so different from other women he’d known. Vicious of tongue, she’d cut down anyone who she felt deserved it. Shit, even the Alpha had felt the sting of her words a few times when animals had been harmed. At the time she’d still believed them to be wild, and even then she’d cared for the wounded with the softest of touches while her words were laced with venom.