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  Desert Roots

  The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch

  by

  Anna Lowe

  Book 6

  Desert Roots

  Copyright © 2017 by Anna Lowe

  [email protected]

  Editing by Lisa A. Hollett

  Proofreading by Donna Hokanson

  Cover art by Fiona Jayde Media

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.

  Many thanks to Beth and Liezel for their valuable feedback on this story!

  Other books in this series

  The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch

  Desert Hunt (the Prequel)

  Desert Moon (Book 1)

  Desert Wolf: Complete Collection (Four short stories)

  Desert Blood (Book 2)

  Desert Fate (Book 3)

  Desert Heart (Book 4)

  Desert Yule (a short story)

  Desert Rose (Book 5)

  Desert Roots (Book 6)

  Sasquatch Surprise (a Twin Moon spin-off story)

  visit www.annalowebooks.com

  Free books

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  Sign up for my newsletter at annalowebooks.com to get three free books!

  Desert Wolf: Friend or Foe (Book 1.1 in the Twin Moon Ranch series)

  Off the Charts (the prequel to the Serendipity Adventure series)

  Perfection (the prequel to the Blue Moon Saloon series)

  Contents

  Other books in this series

  Desert Roots

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sneak Peek: Damnation

  Sneak Peek: Lure of the Dragon

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  More from Anna Lowe

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  Desert Roots

  This bad boy won’t play by the rules.

  Daredevil Carly Hawthorne, youngest of the Hawthorne wolf shifter clan, doesn’t believe in true love. At least, that’s what she thinks until bad boy Luke Brandstetter comes along, refusing to play by the rules.

  Luke is a man with more wrongs than rights in his past, and his scarred shifter soul yearns to turn over a new leaf. Somehow, he has to prove himself worthy — not just to Carly, but to her powerful pack of wolves. Can he protect his stubborn beauty from encroaching evil and earn a fresh start in life, or is love just another cruel trick of fate?

  Chapter One

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  ***

  Luke tightened his grip on the worn steering wheel of his pickup. Damn, did he miss his Ducati. The wind in his hair. Asphalt rolling under the wheels. The 750cc motor humming with a life of its own. That feeling of utter freedom that always filled him on cool desert nights like this, when a thousand stars dotted the sky and an open landscape stretched to infinity on both sides of the road. The kind of night he would head out on just for the joy of it. No destination. No obligations. No plans.

  He gnashed his teeth, spat out the window, and caught a glance of his own reflection in the mirror. Damn. Even if he were on his bike, he wouldn’t have felt the wind in his hair because he’d had it cut short. Straight. Neat. Where the hell had he gotten the idea that a respectable haircut might help him take the first step toward becoming a respectable man?

  Who are you trying to kid? a dark voice growled from the back of his mind.

  No amount of cleaning up would scrub away the dirty color of his tan or the ink of his tattoos. And no amount of pretending would cleanse away the past.

  He took a deep breath and forced his eyes back to the road. This was about looking forward, not back. About a new beginning. And damn it, he’d see this through, no matter what.

  A speed limit sign flashed by, and it felt weird, not breaking seventy-five. Not even trying to.

  Go a little faster. Chase that high, the dark voice said.

  He stared into the darkness, determined not to let his speed inch up. That was just fate tempting him. Fate trying to win the bet that he wouldn’t — couldn’t — succeed in becoming a better man.

  “Sixty-five,” he muttered aloud. “Keep it at sixty-fucking-five.”

  Saguaro cacti saluted him with stiff, prickly arms from both sides of the highway. When the road climbed steadily north, gaining altitude, they faded away along with the lights of Phoenix.

  He was just starting up a steep incline when — Vroom! — a motorcycle roared by with a lean rider bent over the handlebars. A vintage Triumph, by the sound of it. And man, it actually hurt to watch something so beautiful move so fast.

  That ought to be you, the dark voice goaded.

  His inner wolf jumped out of a fitful snooze and howled in his mind. Catch her. Catch her!

  Her?

  He sniffed the air. The driver was a woman. Lean body, round hips. Perfect ass. Her leather boots laced up the back and ended in little tassels that whipped in the wind. A whiff of her scent teased his nose as she rushed by, and just like that, his body went from weary to full alert. Blood rushed through his veins, and every molecule in his body jumped up and down.

  Get her! Earn her! Bring her back! his wolf screamed.

  Up ahead, a truck was passing a slower camper, and the biker hung back just long enough for Luke to dream about catching up for a better look. But then the woman kicked the bike into another gear and shot into the suicidally narrow gap between the two vehicles.

  Holy shit. Was she really going to try threading through that three-foot slot at ninety miles an hour?

  The engine of her Triumph roared through the night, and his inner wolf whistled.

  Holy shit. She really is.

  His heart banged away as if he were the one pulling that crazy stunt.

  The two vehicles lurched apart and horns blared, but she was already through the gap. A fist shook and horns cursed for another full minute, but the biker was long gone.

  She was gone.

  His wolf howled. Every nerve in his body tingled, and he leaned toward the open window, sucking in the last trace of her scent.

  Red and blue lights flooded the road as a state trooper flashed past in pursuit of the biker. Luke grinned.

  “Fly, baby. Fly,” he whispered into the night.

  He knew that high. That thrill that came from being chased. From knowing he’d get away, if only by the skin of his teeth. He nearly stomped on the gas to try to catch up, even though he had about as good a chance as that cop did. But he didn’t because he was supposed to be through with all that.

  So he forced himself to drive at that painfully slow pace, licking his lips against a parched feeling that hadn’t been there before.

  Her. His wolf sniffed the air. Want her. Need her.

  “Sure, buddy.” Luke snorted. “That’s the last we’ll ever see of her.”

  The second he said it, his chest started to ache, and his wolf threw its head up in a low, mournful howl. Like he’d just passed up the chance of h
is life or a lottery ticket had just cartwheeled past in the breeze and he hadn’t even made a grab for it. Like destiny had flashed him a smile instead of a sneer for the first time ever, and he didn’t even know how to react.

  “Forget it.” He slapped the wheel and straightened his shoulders. He needed to stick to his plan, not lust after a hot ass with a death wish. There was a reason he’d traded his old life for a beat-up old pickup and a crumpled map pointing the way north. The road home, if there still was such a place.

  Well, the place was still there. Most of the people, too. That much, he’d heard through the shifter grapevine. But North Ridge, Colorado, had changed a lot since he’d left, and he had, too. Neither of them for the better.

  Forgot about that. Speed up. We can still catch her, his wolf urged.

  Luke shook his head. Too late.

  He drove on, digesting the sinking feeling in his gut. Twenty miles later, he pulled off the highway at a floodlit crossroads with a gas station, a bar with a flashing Michelob sign, and not much else.

  Ten beers on tap here at Louie’s Bar, a sign blinked.

  He licked his lips. Beer wasn’t what he’d been thirsting for, but it wouldn’t hurt.

  Live music, the sign next to it announced.

  Yeah, he could hear the country tune already, and it wasn’t half bad.

  Rooms, said another sign, though one of the two O’s was out.

  He could sleep in the back of the pickup, but a shave and a shower would help in the morning before his unannounced visit to Twin Moon pack — the one and only stop he’d planned between Phoenix and Colorado. There was still too much rogue in him to waltz right onto another wolf pack’s turf and stand half a chance of avoiding a fight. And anyway, he’d already done enough fighting to last a lifetime.

  So he pulled into the parking lot, stepped out of the truck, and entered the bar. At first sight, it was just like any other bar in any other two-horse town in Arizona. Same stale beer smell. Same sticky floor. Same dinged-up barstools, dim corners, and thrumming bass guitar. But one thing was different. One thing stood out like a rose among thorns.

  Her. The blonde with the long legs standing at the bar.

  Chapter Two

  Luke spotted the woman the second she spotted him, and he tried tearing his eyes away. He really tried. But he couldn’t. Just couldn’t.

  Her long legs tapered into leather boots with those damn tassels, teasing him. Golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. Bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief, after a split-second’s pause in which he saw fear and loneliness. At least, he thought so. But that just went to show how she messed with his brain, because there was no way a woman like her would be acquainted with either of those emotions, right?

  When their eyes locked, time stopped for a second — a full minute? an hour? — before lurching on. As if the earth had stopped spinning, and he and she were the only two who’d noticed. His heart stopped, too, and his whole body warmed.

  Mine, his wolf hummed in a low, hungry tone.

  Then, whack! The door swung shut, slamming Luke in the back.

  He shook himself back to his senses. Whoa. Had time stopped or was that just him?

  The hubbub of the bar went on without missing a beat. The singer was still crooning, a couple of out-of-step dancers still swaying, the waitresses still bustling through the Friday night crowd. But something in him felt different than before.

  Her nostrils flared just like his did, testing the air.

  Shifter, his brain said, recognizing the unmistakable scent of wolf.

  Her! It’s her! His wolf jumped up and down. The daredevil on the bike.

  She broke into a grin, and he wondered if she’d heard. But even as a shifter, there was no way she could read his mind, just like there was no way he ought to be able to read hers.

  Nope. No way he could hear her think something like, Yum, as she looked him over.

  That had to be in his mind, or an assumption from the look in her eye. The one that definitely said, Yum.

  There were about six guys fawning over her, one less worthy than the next, and Luke just about growled. Then someone stepped up, blocking his view, and he really did growl.

  “Hold it,” the bouncer said, eyeing Luke’s tattoos and the scar that ran down his right arm. A three-hundred-plus-pound bouncer who bristled and stood at full height — a little shorter than Luke’s six feet, but twice as wide.

  Luke glared, and a second later, the bouncer wavered and stepped aside.

  Yeah, that was the way it usually went. And a good thing, too, because his wolf was quick to rile up — and showing his secret side in a bar full of humans was never a good idea. Especially not with the leggy blonde looking at him like that.

  She ignored the hungry huddle around her and stared at him.

  His blood rushed. His heart rate tripled, and his inner wolf ordered him to march over and claim her as his own. Not as his own for the night, but really, truly, his own. Forever.

  Mine! his wolf clamored. Mate!

  And Jesus, what the hell was that all about?

  Luke struggled to keep his crazy beast leashed. Give it up, already.

  Will never let her go, his wolf declared.

  He took her in for a moment longer, glued to those intense, flashing eyes that were even bluer than the tank top she wore, showing off an athletic figure. Proud, straight shoulders told the world she was no pushover. All feminine on top, all cowgirl below, with her worn jeans and leather boots.

  His wolf whimpered, dreaming of touching her skin, of playing with her hair. Hair so rich and gold, he knew the color didn’t come from a bottle. This woman was all natural, in every way.

  All mine, his wolf growled so fiercely, he nearly gave in to the urge to stride over, glare the other guys off, and buy that woman a drink. They’d get to talking, then dancing, and before long, the two of them would head out the door to a more private place, like one of the rooms upstairs. Because he wanted her. Needed her like he’d never needed anything before.

  So, go get her. To hell with that turning-over-a-new-leaf shit, the dark voice said.

  He took one step forward, then pulled up short.

  A month ago, he would have walked up to her without thinking. Hell, a week ago, too. But everything had changed in the intervening time. Ever since he’d heard the news from North Ridge, Colorado, a switch had flipped in him. It was time to man up and end his bad boy ways. Time to go home and help a struggling pack he’d turned his back on years ago.

  Not time to fool around with a she-wolf, no matter how gorgeous she was.

  So he put on his best poker face and sat at a table with his back to her. Better not send a hungry she-wolf the wrong signals.

  But what if the signals are all right? his wolf protested.

  “Can I get you a drink, honey?” the waitress leaned over, showing off her boobs. A drink and anything else you want, her body language said.

  He didn’t want anything else — unless that blonde was on the menu. He’d love that, but damn. Not tonight.

  He ordered a beer and did his best to focus on the baseball game running on the TV. A minute later, he blinked and realized it was football.

  So much for focusing on anything but the blonde.

  Her scent teased him from across the room — even a room as pungent and crowded as this. He could feel her eyes on him. He could hear the vibration of her footsteps on the floor. Never mind the dozens of other feet clomping around the place — the light tap of hers stood out. And crap, she was coming his way. Didn’t she know he had sworn off living close to the edge? Didn’t she know he had a mission to fulfill?

  Apparently not, because he sensed her approaching as if he’d known her his whole life. When she placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned close to his ear, long, silky locks tickled his cheek.

  “Come and dance, stranger.”

  She had to shout above the music, but to him, it was a whisper, and her voice tangoed through his blood. Low. Sultry
. Playful. And confident. Confident that she would get exactly what she wanted.

  As in, him.

  He gritted his teeth. It was a test. It had to be. Fate was checking how far it could push him before he gave in.

  “Come and dance.” She slid her fingers along his collar, featherlight.

  Every other sound in the place faded. All he heard was her voice. All he wanted to hear was her voice.

  “No thanks.” He forced the words through his teeth.

  Are you nuts? his wolf cried.

  When she stepped in front of him and placed a hand on her hip, the background lights shot a halo through her hair.

  Angel. Devil. Temptation on two feet.

  She cocked her head, looking straight at him, and his jeans instantly grew tight. “You don’t want to dance?”

  “Believe me, I want to.” Jesus, did he want. “But I can’t.”

  She looked him up and down. Slowly. Torturously. Undressing him with eyes that flashed, telling him she liked what she found.

  “Can’t?” She tossed her hair. “You look pretty capable to me.”

  She leaned in to tease his collar again, and his eyes shut for a moment. God, how he’d like to show her how capable he was.

  The sweet scent of arousal wrapped around him, and it wasn’t just coming from her. His deeper, muskier scent was mixed in there, too, and it was all too easy to imagine getting naked with her.

  “Shouldn’t is more like it.”

  “Shouldn’t?” She lifted one perfect eyebrow. Her hips swayed like she was already on the dance floor.

  God, she made it so, so hard to remember all the reasons he had for being good.

  Just say yes, his wolf said. Yes, I want to dance.

  “Sorry,” he said, gritting the words out over the yes poised on his tongue. A tongue he could already picture sliding over her lips. Parting them. Parting other sections of her body, too, and tasting her deep. Sliding along her—