The Shucker's Booktique Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for J.C. McKenzie

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Epilogue

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  The Shucker’s Booktique

  by

  J.C. McKenzie

  Lobster Cove Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  The Shucker’s Booktique

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by J.C. McKenzie

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Faery Rose Edition, 2014

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-659-0

  Lobster Cove Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for J.C. McKenzie

  “From the enticing smells of cooked lobster and melting butter, to the feel of the ocean breeze caressing your skin, the images and characters created by J.C.McKenzie wrap their arms around you and draw you into the wonderfully vivid world of THE SHUCKER’S BOOKTIQUE and Lobster Cove.”

  ~Author Charlotte Copper

  ~*~

  “Not only is the [SHIFT HAPPENS] world well developed but the characters really brought the story home.”

  ~Stacy, Urban Fantasy Investigations

  ~*~

  “Shifter stories aren’t my first choice, but SHIFT HAPPENS [Carus Series, Book 1] was so fun to read—fast-paced, action-packed, and a heroine who made me both chuckle and snort.”

  ~Author C.J. Burright

  ~*~

  “I loved [SHIFT HAPPENS]...I have never read a shifter or were book like this...I am so ready to read more of this story...I give this a 5 fang review.”

  ~Paranormal Romance and Authors that Rock

  ~*~

  “SHIFT HAPPENS is a wonderful new book from debut author J.C.McKenzie...It’s not just Andy but the wonderful cast of supporting characters that had me hooked.”

  ~Author Charlotte Copper

  ~*~

  Coming Soon—BEAST COAST (Carus Series, Book 2)

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to the ocean lovers

  who see magic in every wave.

  Acknowledgments

  To my wonderful critique partners: Jo-Ann Carson, Charlotte Copper and Shelly Chalmers...

  To my beta reader and childhood friend, Kristi Kyle...

  To my other beta reader and kindred spirit,

  Jackelyn Ford…

  To the Lobster Cove crew

  for letting me be a part of the creation process...

  To my publisher, the Wild Rose Press

  for picking up this story and others...

  To my cover artist, Debbie Taylor

  for yet again creating a beautiful cover...

  To my editor and fellow science geek, Lara Parker...

  To my supportive family, amazing friends,

  and my wonderful in-laws...

  To my loving husband and beautiful son...

  Thank you.

  Your support and feedback mean the world to me.

  ~

  May your joys be as deep as the oceans,

  and your troubles as light as its foam.

  “At the beach, life is different. A day moves not from hour to hour but leaps from mood to moment. We go with the currents, plan around the tides, follow the sun. We measure happiness by nothing we can hold...nothing we can catch. Everywhere…Life is jumping and elusive and momentously momentary. We want to [stretch] the days, distill the memories, make them last. At the same time, we know that the beauty is in the evanescence. Every wave comes in, then retreats. Every day promises, then turns its back and slips away. Every joy has a little tease in it, a give and a take, and leaves a wake of longing.”

  ~Sandy Gingras, How To Live At the Beach

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Willa bolted upright in bed. The white sheets clung to her damp tank top and shorts. Her gut clenched, and foreboding trickled down her spine like sweat. The shapes of the furnishings in her aunt’s second floor guest room slowly materialized as her eyes adjusted to the dark night. Rain pounded against the bedroom window, and the birch trees groaned in the gale force winds outside. She closed her eyes and inhaled the lingering smells of sea breeze air with evening primrose and night-blooming cereus.

  Must’ve been thunder.

  She dropped back onto the soft pillows and let sleep slide over her body again.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Willa flung back the bed sheets and set her feet on the rustic wood flooring. That didn’t sound like thunder. Sounded like someone slamming his or her fist against the storm door downstairs. Her room sat above the novelty bookstore her aunt owned and operated. Currently, the other bedrooms were empty, including her aunt’s.

  Who the heck would come to call at… Willa glanced at her bedside clock, and the ugly green lights glared back at her. Who the heck would knock on the door of the Shucker’s Booktique at three in the morning? On a weeknight?

  The banging continued, and she lurched from the bed. Maybe someone had found her aunt. She’d been missing for five weeks, vanishing without a word from this bookstore.

  Maybe it was Aunt Jenny!

  Or maybe it was the cops.

  She hustled to throw on her robe. Her heart thudded in her chest as she raced down the stairs and through the house. When she reached the front of the bookstore, she flipped the three deadbolts and flung the heavy oak door open.

  It wasn’t her aunt.

  A giant hurricane of a man stood in front of her. Easily standing above six and a half feet, his wide shoulders took up most of the doorway. Flashes of lightning illuminated porcelain, almost translucent skin, and dark, stormy eyes—thunderous clouds of gray changing to the deep blue of an angry ocean. Ink-black hair, dripping with rainwater, plastered his chiseled features and added to his severe, angular face.

  His eyes had widened when she opened the door, but now they narrowed to study her. He hesitated and then stepped forward.

  Willa squeaked and slammed the door closed.

  Or at least tried to. He stuck his foot out and the door bounced off it to rebound into her face.

  ****

  Lon jumped in surprise and stared at the nymph-like woman. She flailed, arms flapping in the air like a nubile chick, before she hit the floor. Her head smacked against the bookstore’s tiles with an audible crack.

  Oh shit!

  He slipped into the bookstore and shut the heavy door against the raging storm outside. When he knelt beside the petite brunette, he checked her pulse, nice and steady. Her skin tingled under his fingers, shooting feather light wisps of energy down his arm. He paused to close his eyes and enjoy the sweet vibrations as they radiated through his essence. Delicious and unique.

  His eyes popped open and raked her body. With her robe flung open and transparent white tank top beneath, he could see everything in the streaks of lightning. The wet clothing clung to her pale skin, showing the s
oft curve of her breasts and pink nipples.

  What was this delectable creature doing in Jenny’s booktique? At first he thought Jenny had dyed her hair; this woman a younger carbon-copy in a different colour palette. Definitely related.

  Lon reluctantly got up and walked through the bookstore to get a wet washcloth from the bathroom in the back of the building. Even with the limited light, the place looked as it had the last time he’d visited, as if stuffed in some invisible time-capsule. He flicked the lights on as he moved through the old house.

  “Jenny?” he called out at the base of the stairs. “You here?”

  He waited, but no sing-song voice answered. Maybe she finally took that much-needed vacation. He shrugged and walked into the bathroom to grab a washcloth and soak it under the tap.

  Could’ve used rain water.

  As he walked back into the store’s main room, he ran his hand against the book bindings. He loved the smell and feel of books, old and new. Jenny’s place offered both. She’d converted the living and dining area of this house into a bookstore with character.

  The smell of old paper and leather comforted him almost as much as spending time with his human friend. He didn’t have to pretend with Jenny. He didn’t have to be someone else. She already knew his deepest secret.

  He faltered when he reached the woman at the store’s entrance. Jenny’s relative. She remained prone, sprawled out like a stunned snow angel, glowing in the light from the raging storm outside. He hesitated before walking around her to flick on the last of the lights. The artificial bulbs banished the ethereal moment.

  When the woman groaned, he hustled to kneel beside her and help her sit up. Her skin zapped him again with soft flowing energy. Her aura spun streams of sparkly purple and gold. Just like Jenny’s, but somehow more alluring. Interesting.

  “Easy,” he said. “You took quite a spill.”

  She stiffened into a statue in his arms. He placed the cloth on her forehead and hoped she’d find the coolness soothing. Her right temple got bashed pretty hard by the door.

  “Shhh,” he said. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m sorry I gave you a fright.”

  “Why are you here?” she whispered.

  “Looking for Jenny. Is she around?”

  “No. No she’s not.” Her muscles tensed again. After a pause, she pushed his arms away and attempted to stand. She resembled a newborn colt getting up for the first time. Her legs shook and wobbled, but she’d probably bite him if he reached out to help. He clasped his hands and rocked on the balls of his feet as he stayed in a crouched position. He’d be ready to lunge if she toppled over.

  “Do you know anything about that?” she demanded.

  He dragged his attention away from her smooth legs, and straightened to stand beside her. “About what?”

  “About where she is?” She flung her unruly mane back and speared him with a steady gaze. She wobbled again.

  Lon reached out to steady her. When his hand touched her arm, she squeaked and jumped back. Her face flushed deep red, and she looked away.

  Dammit! He’d scared her again.

  He ran his hand through his wet hair and spoke softly. “Why would I look for her here if I knew she was elsewhere?”

  She pursed her lips and squeezed her body tight with her arms.

  He studied the young woman again. Not the tallest of women, nor the most beautiful, but something about her features and how they worked together made her striking. Her amber eyes held intelligence and her wavy chestnut hair brought out the cute freckles across her nose. The purple and gold aura danced around her and made him want to sway to its invisible tune. The sight of her full, bow lips sent a bolt straight to his cock. He cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”

  ****

  Under the store’s lights, Willa took in the stranger’s appearance. Old faded jeans with ripped knees from wear and tear, not fashion, clung to his muscled thighs; a simple long-sleeved black shirt, one size too small, spanned his broad, muscular chest; and his scuffed, soil-sodden running shoes with untied laces tracked dirt into the store. The storm had victimized his clothing, and the drenched material dripped onto the tiled flooring along with a trail of mud and leaves.

  He wanted to take her to a doctor? Well, a deep ache resonated from her right temple and thudding pained the back of her skull, but maybe he should take her to a therapist instead. Her mind delved into a new world of crazy. At first, this man’s intimidating presence had scared her. How could it not? He was huge, mysterious and banging his fist against her missing aunt’s door at a god-awful time in the morning.

  But now?

  Now she wanted to touch him, to feel that cool, sweeping energy his skin seemed to generate when it contacted hers, like he left an imprint. She’d never felt anything like it before. The lust coursing through her veins scared her more than his size or the circumstances.

  Breathe!

  Taking a deep inhale of man and sea, she noted his clothes again.

  He must be freezing.

  The wind howled its rage outside, followed by thunder and another crack of lightning. Mother Nature really gave it to Lobster Cove tonight.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said and dragged her eyes away from his chest. If this man wanted to harm her, he had his chance when she lay flat on her back doing her best floor-tile impression. “You must be cold. Do you want something warm to drink or a towel?”

  “I don’t mind the cold,” he grumbled, his tone blending with another rumble of thunder. “But I would enjoy a hot drink, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

  She nodded at his feet and then swiveled to walk to the back of the bookstore, where the office, kitchen and one of the bathrooms were situated. Thank goodness only the bedrooms and second bathroom were upstairs. Despite feeling relatively safe with this stranger, she didn’t like the idea of inviting him upstairs into her private sanctuary. She didn’t trust herself. “It’s just through here.”

  “I’m familiar with the layout. Jenny and I met often for tea.”

  Willa bit her lip. She’d had no idea her aunt had a male “friend.” Something hollowed out in her chest, leaving an empty stabbing pain. Everyone had a better love life than she did, even her reclusive, book-loving aunt.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t aware my aunt had a boyfriend. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll just put the kettle on.” She waved at the small dinette set in the back room and walked to the kitchen counter to turn on the electric kettle. She didn’t want to look at the man. She didn’t want him to see her eyes. If he did…somehow he’d see the jealous monster thrashing around in her head. Or her lust.

  What was wrong with her? Turned on by her aunt’s boyfriend—worse, her beloved, missing aunt’s boyfriend.

  Maybe he should take her to the doctor after all. The door bonked her head harder than she thought.

  When she reached for the kettle, a large smooth hand closed over her trembling one. A cool wave of energy flowed through her body from where his skin touched hers. She squeaked and jumped back half a step.

  And bumped into a wall of muscle.

  His rock hard body, though wet and cold, sent heat racing through her veins.

  “I tell you what.” The man spoke into her hair, casting shivers to dance down her body. “Why don’t I get the hot drinks started and you can…er, you can put something else on?”

  She looked down at her outfit and warmth spread across her face. Her robe had opened and her white tank top, already tight, had been made transparent by sweat and the rain. Her nipples, pink and pointy, said “hello.”

  “Oh my!” She clutched the robe around her body and skirted around the man to head for the stairwell. “I’ll be right back.”

  The man wasn’t looking at her. He stood stiffly at the counter and studied the kettle as if it contained all the secrets in the world, completely indifferent to her near naked state.

  ****

  Lon stared at the blasted kettle as if it was the
sole anchor in a storm and fought his raging hard-on. This woman’s going to be the death of me.

  If he continued to admire at the way her tank top clung to her small but full breasts, and displayed those perky nipples begging to be sucked, he’d either ravish her right there or go insane. He’d never force a woman, but he wanted to crush her body against his and slip his tongue into her mouth. Too bad her behaviour screamed “not interested.” She wouldn’t want his tongue anywhere on her body. She could barely look at him.

  Her parting comment still rang in his ears. She thought he dated her Aunt Jenny? No way. Their relationship never worked like that. He’d better set her straight.

  “Hey,” he called out and then walked around to the staircase.

  The strange, but beautiful woman froze mid-way on the steps and slowly turned to peer down at him; eyes wide and brows raised. From this angle, the lighting accentuated the curve in her hips and well-toned thighs. If he ran his hands up their length, would they tremble at his touch and feel as smooth as they looked?

  She caught his dropping gaze and wrapped her robe tightly around her body.

  He bit his tongue before continuing. “Your aunt and I are just friends, not lovers.”

  “Oh,” she said, expelling a long breath at the same time. Then, she turned and continued to slowly climb the steep, narrow stairs, as if contemplating each step.

  He wanted to run after her.

  Was it wrong to wish her robe didn’t cover her backside? He’d give anything for a glimpse of her butt. He imagined it heart-shaped and firm like the rest of her.

  He shook his head and turned away from the staircase. He didn’t want her to catch him staring at it like some maniacal stranger. Well, to her he was a stranger, and he certainly wasn’t normal.

  So this little nymph was one of Jenny’s nieces. Which one? God, the woman had too many to count, and almost all brow-beating battle-axes as Jenny’d described them. Weren’t they all married with kids? His back snapped straight and tightness settled into his shoulders.

  She’s taken.

  He hadn’t noticed a wedding ring. Maybe she’s separated. Maybe he could establish a mutually beneficial relationship without giving away his true nature.