She wasn't going to make it. Damn.

"Well, isn't this nice?"

And, so it begins.

Jordan turned slightly as Stacey St. James sidled past her and ran a finger down Matt's arm. He looked down at the stacked blonde-haired woman and gave a slow blink then looked right past her like he didn't care, but he didn't move when she linked arms with him.

Bitch.

Great, it was high school all over again.

"Hello, Stacey."

"Oh, Jordan! It is you!" Stacey batted her eyelashes, and Jordan wanted to punch her...hard. "I almost didn't recognize you. Why, don't you look...like you've been driving?"

Yep, even after all these years, Jordan wanted to smack-a-bitch. But, apparently, law enforcement frowned upon that, especially when said bitch was the daughter of the most prominent family in town. Well, other than the Coopers, of course, although Matt and his family had always been warm to her.

And now thoughts of just how warm Matt had been with her flooded her mind. Her cheeks heated, and she coughed. Enough of that.

"Well, I drove here all the way from Denver, so, yes; I suppose it would look like that."

"How long are you staying?" Matt asked as he extricated himself from Stacey's clutches.

"As long as it takes to clean out the house and sell it." Jordan couldn't stay any longer than that; she wouldn't make it.

Could that be disappointment in his gaze? No, it had been too long. He couldn't possibly care if she came or went. It had been eleven years. Besides, she'd left without a world. He didn't owe her anything beyond this brief encounter, while she owed him everything.

She hated being in debt to anyone.

Mr. Clancy finally took her purchase, and she slid over some cash before the older man had a chance to speak. Good thing since he looked like he'd seen a ghost-ha, funny.

"Have you seen the house yet?" Matt asked, his brows furrowed.

She shook her head and took her Coke and gum back with a small smile to Mr. Clancy. "Not yet. I was on my way over there. I just wanted to stop by for a drink." She squared her shoulders and started toward the exit.

"You might find more than you bargained for if you want to get out quick."

Jordan stopped and pivoted toward him. "Why? It should only take a few days to clean it out then slap on some paint, right?"

Matt shook his head and put his thumbs in his belt loops-too sexy. "Your grandmother got real sick at the end, and none of us knew." Sadness washed over his face, and Jordan held back any similar feelings. "It may take more than you anticipated to get it ready."

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, counting to ten. "Then I'll just have to deal with it, won't I? I'm here for the duration in any case." After all, she'd quit her PR job, a job that she hated, so she could find herself. God, how pathetic did that sound?

"Well, if you need anything, I'm here. And I bet my brothers would help out in a second."

Jordan nodded, a smile forming. Damn those helpful, sexy Cooper brothers. "Thanks, if I need anything, I'll holler. But I hope to do most of it on my own."

Matt nodded, a knowing look on his face. Damn, he could always tell her emotions and he knew she was out of sorts. She hated their connection now. "Of course. Well, I need to head back to work, but it's good to see you, Jor." He reached out then looked like he'd thought better of it.

She bit her tongue to keep herself from saying anything, or worse, touching him.

"Good to see you too, Matt."

Matt turned, stopped suddenly, and turned back. "And I'm an idiot." He grabbed a pen from the counter and jotted something on a piece of scrap paper near the register. "Here's my number. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks." She took it from him and watched him walk away, his muscular legs encased is snug jeans. Yum. She stuffed the number in her back pocket and walked toward the door. "Thanks, Mr. Clancy."

He winked. "Good to see you, Miss Jordan. Stay out of trouble."

She gave a huge grin. "You know me."

"That's why I said it, hon."

Jordan laughed and walked past a fuming Stacey and through the exit. The sun beat down on her though the wind chilled the atmosphere quickly.

"Just so you know, I'm going to marry Matt. So keep your claws out of him."

Jordan stopped at her car and turned, her body aching at the thought of Matt marrying that shrew. "Good luck." What else could she say? I hope you break a nail and die, you bleach blonde bitch?

Stacey sniffed. "And you better be on your way out of town as soon as you're done. Because no one wants you here." Jordan held back a flinch, but remembered the look of compassion on Mr. Clancy's face. Maybe not everyone hated her. Maybe. "No one did before, and nothing has changed. So you can get your witchy butt back in that old clunker of yours and leave."

Jordan put her Coke on the hood of her car and forced herself not to retaliate, at least not physically. Oh sure, she could use magic or cast a spell on her, but Stacey wasn't worth stirring up trouble. "I don't know what I ever did to you, Stacey."

"Don't you?" she spat.

"I honestly don't."

"Do my eyes deceive me? Is that Jordan Cross in my town?" A too-smooth voice broke the tension between them, and Jordan wanted to vomit.

"Hello, Prescott, your sister was just welcoming me to the town." She clenched her keys in her fist, ready to escape. God, she didn't want to be here, not with him.

"Ah, Stacey is quite the helper, isn't she?" He wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders and gave a perfectly fake, megawatt smile.

"As always. Well, if that's all, I'm going to go. Thanks for the welcome." She opened her car door and slid inside. A hand caught the doorframe before she could close the door, and Jordan inwardly cursed.

"Now that you're back, just know that I'm the mayor of this town," Prescott sneered. "And we don't need any of your kind here. So watch your step, and I'll be sure to watch it as well. You aren't welcome here, Jordan Cross. And if you cross me or my town, I'll stick Sheriff Tyler Cooper on your ass so fast you won't be able to hex anyone this time."

Prescott looked up and narrowed his gaze. "Ah, there is our Sheriff now. You're lucky this time."

Jordan bit her tongue. She didn't hex people. It was a moral rule of hers. But damn Prescott and his insults anyway.

"If that's all..." She tugged on her door, and Prescott pulled away, his fake smile back on his face.

"Welcome to Holiday, Jordan."

She slammed the door closed, revved her engine, and pulled away. Jesus, what had she been thinking coming back?

Holiday wasn't her home, not anymore. She'd do her job and leave. She had to because, if she didn't, no amount of spells would protect her heart or her sanity.

A Taste of Honey Excerpt If you like shifters, try out Ranae Rose's Half Moon Shifters Book 3 of the Half Moon Shifters

Chapter 1.

Friday the thirteenth wasn't always an unlucky day, was it? As Violet dusted rose-colored blush across her cheekbones, her heart fluttered, telling her it was the luckiest day she'd had in a long time. Or at least, it had the potential to be. Superstition be damned, she'd been looking forward to this ever since Ronnie had promised to drive her into town a few days ago.

She caught her own eye in the mirror and hastily laid down her blush-brush. She'd applied too much a the pink smudges streaking across her face made her look like she had a fever. So much for a delicate hint of color on the apples of her cheeks. Why did her cosmetic efforts never turn out like the results in the beauty tutorial videos she watched on the internet? Quickly, she rubbed some of the makeup off with a tissue.

The last thing she needed was to look like she'd spent half an hour choosing what she hoped was the perfect shade of blush at a drug store the day before a which she had a and then gone crazy with it, as if the right cosmetics could stop the butterflies in her stomach from fluttering. What a joke a they burst into flight at just the thought of what the day might hold.

Hope wasn't the only reason for the aerials going on in her stomach a apprehension entwined with her more optimistic emotions, a constant reminder of her first days in the Smokies. It still made her want to cringe when she thought of how she'd made a fool of herself last time she'd thought a certain shifter might be her mate, though that had been a misunderstanding. An embarrassing one.

But this was different. Ronnie's scent had been tormenting her for weeks and had even worked its way into her dreams. Which was exactly why she wasn't going to mess this up. The considerable differences between her and Ronnie created a natural backdrop for confusion. She'd have to tread carefully in order to determine whether there really was a chance for the vivid dreams she'd been having ever since the first time she'd detected his scent to come true.

So far, she could count the number of times she and Ronnie had been alone together a outside of her fantasies a on one hand. Easily. It was enough to inspire hope that something real would unfold between them if they just got a little time to themselves, away from her pack and his tribe. If he was interested a and he had little ways of making it seem like he was, despite his natural stoicism a he'd make the first move.

With a sigh, she shoved her makeup kit back into a drawer below the bathroom sink. On one hand, she loved the bear-like things about him a his rugged size and strength, broad shoulders and fierce powers of protection. But if he were a wolf shifter, like her ... then she'd have known instantly whether they were destined for each other or not.

The special scents wolf shifters detected from their mates were impossible to ignore and matings usually occurred within days, or even hours, of the lucky couple meeting. But bear shifters didn't recognize their mates by smell, which meant that she had to suffer the maddening effects of his tempting scent, trying to play it cool while she waited for him to give some indication that he felt something serious for her too. Sometimes, it seemed damn near impossible.

Ronnie didn't bother to go home after his shift ended. Instead, he steered his pick-up truck in the direction of Half Moon Pack territory, where Violet was waiting in the cabin she shared with her sister and a few other packmates. He drove his personal vehicle but was still in his park ranger's uniform. Making a detour to his own cabin to change would've wasted valuable time and might have made Violet late for her job interview. He needed to give himself at least an extra half hour of driving time, in case of bad traffic. Tourists really had a way of clogging up Gatlinburg's busy streets. Or at least, that was what he told himself.

And if traffic was good and he ended up with an extra half hour to while away with Violet, so much the better. As long as he could control himself, that was. Doing so was getting more and more difficult each time he saw her. He'd volunteered to drive her into town after he'd overheard her mention to her sister, April, that she had a job interview and no way to get there, since all the pack's other vehicles would be in use at that time. He'd considered her predicament a stroke of lucky opportunity not to be missed, though perhaps the primal urges and accompanying thoughts that had rushed through his mind at the mere thought of spending several hours alone with her should've given him pause.

He glimpsed a gravel turn-around spot beside the road and pulled over into it on an impulse, his cock throbbing as he put one booted foot down on the brake and shifted the truck into park. Few vehicles traveled the remote road a the chances that one would even pass by were slim. The little pull-over area was an oasis of privacy high on the mountain, shrouded in fading autumn foliage. No one would ever know if he took a few moments to ease the tension thoughts of Violet had filled him with.

He lowered a hand into his lap, his palm conforming to the rigid rod that sprang up instantly every time he thought of her. It was impossible not to think that if she were in the truck with him, they'd be able to do just about anything without anyone ever knowing, impossible not to fantasize about laying her down on the seat and lowering himself on top of her, finally getting his hands on her perfect body and seeing if she tasted as sweet as she looked...

It was just a fantasy, of course. One that he couldn't get out of his head. He'd had a lot of those lately, all of them starring her and featuring the many, many ways that a wolf shifter and a bear shifter might indulge their wild sides together. That was a lot more fun to think about than the problems their differences could possibly cause ... like the fact that she might not want a bear for a mate, or even be able to feel attracted to him like she would be to the right wolf. What if they weren't truly compatible that way? It was hard to think there wasn't at least a chance a she drove him so crazy that there had to be something more than simple lust behind it.

Not that he hadn't been lusting after her anyway. His cock ached, stiff against his palm as he imagined her long brunette locks splayed across the truck seat and her blue eyes staring up into his dark ones, hazy with ecstasy. How was it so easy for him to picture exactly what she'd look like in the throes of passion when he'd never so much as held her hand? He needed to get a grip on himself. He did, in a very literal way, wrapping his fingers so tightly around his erection that it ached.

As he groaned, the dashboard clock caught his eye, announcing the time in glowing green numbers.

Slowly relinquishing his grip on his shaft, he told himself that time was of the essence, that he couldn't risk making Violet late for her interview. As he put the truck back into drive and guided it onto the road again, he couldn't help but acknowledge the truth, which was that it only would've taken him a few seconds to get off. Problem was, it wouldn't have helped a it never did. At least, not when he was thinking of her.

Good lord, he was wearing his uniform.

Violet buried a tooth in her lower lip as she peeked around the cabin's doorframe, watching Ronnie descend from his truck, an irresistible vision in his khaki and green ranger's uniform. The button-up shirt clung perfectly to his huge, muscular frame, spanning the broadest shoulders she'd ever seen and revealing hints of his bronze biceps. Had they had to order a special size to fit him? He was well over six feet tall and as sturdy as an oak tree. If they had, they'd gotten the measurements perfect.

"Hi, Violet." He met her eyes through the flimsy barrier of the screen door and nodded in her direction as he strode forward, the gravel crunching under his boots.

"Hi," she said, hating the way her voice came out so high-pitched as she pushed the door open and emerged onto the front porch.

"You look great," he said, his eyes gleaming from under the brim of his ranger's hat, darker than the shadow it cast across his face.

Heat blazed a trail across her cheeks and she clutched her own hands behind her back, her nails digging into her palms as he stood at the foot of the short flight of stairs. "Thanks. So do you."

The words were out of her mouth before she could second-guess them.

Something flickered in his eyes, a spark of some unidentifiable emotion that was gone as soon as it had appeared.

Great. So much for not being obvious. She dropped her gaze to the ground, letting it settle on the toes of his boots.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his deep voice as calm and collected as ever.

She raised her gaze and was confronted by one of his outstretched hands, twice the size of hers but in perfect proportion to the rest of his body. Praying that her fingers wouldn't tremble, she took his hand a what else could she have done without being completely rude? a and held it as she hurried down the steps, letting go when her feet touched solid earth.

His heat lingered on her fingertips as she followed him to the truck and he opened the passenger-side door for her. His gaze was so heavy on her back that she could feel it a or did she just have a serious case of wishful thinking? Either way, her entire body warmed up as she climbed into the cab and when she sat down on the seat and looked up, her eyes locked with his.

He was still for just a moment, then he closed the truck door and rounded the vehicle, climbing into the driver's seat and turning the keys in the ignition.

The engine's low rumble alleviated the silence but was the only sound as he guided the truck out of the driveway and down the mountain road. He drove wordlessly, his eyes trained on the pavement, and Violet didn't dare look at him except for the occasional quick glance. Not while his scent was whirling around her, permeating every last square inch of the cab and her consciousness alike.

Some shifters compared the feeling of breathing in one's destined mate's scent to a high a it definitely made sense. The spicy honey aroma was affecting her common sense like a potent drug, forcing her to fight to hang on to her inhibitions as her nerves hummed with heat and expectation, her heart speeding as she sat so close to him, a scant two feet of space between their bodies.

"Where are we headed?" Ronnie asked as they approached Gatlinburg, his deep voice resonating throughout the cab and crushing Violet's resolution not to look directly at him.

She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and read the name and address of the restaurant to him. When she looked up, their eyes met for a moment before he returned his gaze to the road.

"Maybe it's none of my business," he said, his voice a deep rumble that she could gladly have listened to all day, "but didn't you say you wanted to try something different instead of waiting tables like you did in Alaska?"

"Yeah, but..." She cleared her throat and fiddled with the scrap of paper, smoothing out the crease marks that had formed when she'd folded it. "I'm the only one who hasn't found work yet. Noah and Daniel are working for that cabin construction company, April is applying to college and volunteering for the national park and Clarissa just got the approval of the midwife she apprenticed to back in Alaska to practice on her own. I feel pretty useless just sitting around the cabin all day. I've been spending a lot of time looking for job openings, but to be honest, I have no idea what I want to do."

"Mmm," Ronnie said, looking thoughtful as he passed through a green light. "No idea at all?"

Violet shook her head. Unfortunately, she didn't have an obvious talent or passion like April and Clarissa did. And she had nothing in the way of a college education, unlike the pack's alpha female, Mandy, who performed her accounting job from home.

"Well, what are your interests?" Ronnie asked. "What do you like to do when you're not working?"

His questions were unexpected, and his concern for her personal affairs a pleasant surprise. Too bad her honest answer was something that couldn't possibly be very interesting or impressive to an uber-rugged, shape-shifting park ranger.

"I like to sew." In fact, she'd been doing copious amounts of it, stitching away to pass time when she wasn't searching for a job. It helped her to feel more productive than simply sitting around doing nothing and she enjoyed creating decor for the cabin she shared with April, Clarissa, Noah and Daniel. The beauty of the surrounding mountains had supplied her with plenty of design inspiration. But really, it was just for fun.

"Maybe you could find a job related to that."

"I don't know. It's really more of a hobby a I haven't come across any jobs where that would be a very useful skill."

Ronnie slowed the truck to a halt and put it into park.