Blackstone Ranger Scrooge: Chapter One

Blackstone Ranger Scrooge: Chapter One 

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Chapter One

“Motherfucking ball sack!” J.D. McNamara cursed as a big glob of oil hit her on the cheek. Of course, oil, dirt, and grime were all part of being a mechanic and working with cars. But still, it was annoying as fuck.

Her inner animal didn’t like it either. The feline sniffed at her distastefully, whipping its short tail around.

Damn prissy little thing.

Her inner feline yowled in protest.

Oh, J.D. knew her animal was fierce. It was dubbed as the deadliest cat in the world after all. But its small stature didn’t exactly do them any favors, especially when compared to the other shifters in town.

While the population of Blackstone, Colorado, was made up of a variety of shifter animals, most were inevitably predators like bears, large cats, and wolves. However, she was none of those. In fact, she was a very rare shifter—an African black-footed cat, one of the smallest wildcats in the world. Few people knew who she was because … well, it was hard to explain exactly, and inevitably, people would think she was just a cat.

“You all right there, J.D.?” came a familiar voice from above.

Finishing up the repair, she slid out from under the Toyota she’d been working on and looked up at Gabriel Russel’s grinning face. “Yeah, yeah,” she sighed.

“You didn’t sound like you were all right,” he teased, but offered her a hand.

She took it and allowed him to pull her up. “Yeah, well next time, why don’t you get a money shot on the fucking face, Russel, and see if you like it.”

“I’d tell you to act like a lady, but you’d probably knee me in the balls,” he chuckled.

“Damn right.” She grabbed a rag and wiped the oil from her face. “Besides, people who cuss are smart as fuck. It’s scientific fact.” She threw the dirty rag at him playfully, but he blocked it with a hand.

“Whoa, watch the hair!” He shook his head, making his long, dark golden locks shimmer. It was almost comical and very apt—Gabriel was a lion shifter, after all, and was as proud of his human mane as he was of his animal’s. “Just because you don’t care about what you look like, doesn’t mean some of us don’t.”

“Some meaning you.” Taking her trucker cap off the hook from the wall, she placed it on top of her head. It was the only way she could cover her mop of unruly blonde curls. If she spent time on trying to tame it every morning to have it perfect the way Gabriel did, she’d have to wake up at five every day. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Russel?” Not that Gabriel needed an occasion to show up at her garage. They had been best friends since grade school after all.

“Oh yeah.” He held up his hand, lifting up a white box. “Temperance wanted you to have this. Ginger pumpkin streusel pie. Her first Thanksgiving creation.”

“Ooh!” Taking the box from him, she took in a sniff. The smell of ginger, pumpkin, and spices tickled her nose. “I’m honored, but what’s it for?”

“For not charging her for the tune-up and oil change.”

“Of course. You know what Pop always said. Family—”

“Don’t pay,” Gabriel finished with a fond smile on his face. “It means a lot to me. That you consider her family too.”

“Like I wouldn’t. She’s your mate and soon-to-be wife, so of course she’s family. Besides, anyone who can put up with you deserves more than free service,” she said with a chuckle.

“Oh, ha ha, funny, McNamara, you should go on tour.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Anyway, there’s another reason I came here. Damon asked me to invite you to the Blackstone Ranger Thanksgiving party tomorrow.”

“He did?” J.D. blinked. Damon was their other best friend, who was also chief of the Blackstone Rangers. Gabriel had been a ranger himself the past five years, but recently he’d quit so he could go into business with his mate to take over the local pie shop, Rosie’s Bakery and Cafe. “I’ve never been asked before. I thought it was an event for rangers and their families?”

“Yeah, well, you’re family, J.D.,” Gabriel declared with a warm smile.

She stared at him, stunned, her throat closing up at the declaration.

Gabriel and Damon had been her best friends since she was ten years old, when she and her father had moved to Blackstone from Brooklyn. She’d been the new girl in town, which already made her a target for bullies, and the fact that she was a tomboy didn’t make it easier. But the two had stuck by her and protected her from mean girls who made fun of her for being a grease monkey’s daughter. Yes, the three of them had always been tight, and they’d been with her through thick and thin, but, well … none of them were the sentimental type.

“J.D.?” Gabriel asked, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Are you crying?”

“Fuck no. It’s all the dust in here.” She turned around and sniffed. “Don’t ya have to be somewhere else? Like counting the gold bars in your trust fund or something.”

Gabriel laughed. “All right, all right. So, I’ll see you tomorrow? We’re all helping out Dutchy with the decorations, and Temperance is bringing the desserts, so we’ll be there early. Feel free to show up anytime, but we eat at five.”

“Sure.” She turned her head and flashed him a smile. “See you tomorrow. Tell Temperance I said thank you for the pie.”

“Will do.” The lion shifter waved goodbye and strolled out of the garage.

After cleaning up her tools and calling one of her mechanics to move the Toyota, she headed out to the trailer–office in the main garage lot.

“Hey, Pop,” she greeted the photo that hung up behind the desk inside the office. Jimmy McNamara smiled down at her as he always did, frozen in time. He’d been too young when he died in that accident; barely fifty. Shifters couldn’t get most illnesses, and they healed fast, but the truck that struck him down as he was crossing the street killed him on impact. His death had been a shock, and even now, a decade later, she still felt his loss keenly.

Even though she had taken over the business, this office was like a shrine to him—pictures of her as a kid and her mother, old school road signs, a black-and-white photo of the Brooklyn bridge, a classic James Dean on a motorcycle photo, and a framed and signed Billy Joel poster hung on the walls.

Sitting down behind the desk, she went to work checking her emails, inventory, and her accounting software. Finally, after what seemed like hours she was done, and she closed the laptop with a satisfying click.

“Whew!” Stretching her arms over her head, she leaned back on the worn leather office chair. This was not her favorite part of owning J.D.’s Garage, but it had to be done. “Yikes!” She winced as she saw it was already dark outside. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving, so they were busy trying to get all the repairs done before the holidays. But at least I’ll have the long weekend to look forward to. Grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair and the keys to her truck, she headed out the door.

“Hey, J.D.”

The unfortunately familiar voice made her freeze before she managed to finish locking the door to the office. With a deep breath, she turned around. “Hey, Roy,” she greeted back, pasting a smile on her face. “It’s pretty late. What are you doing here?”

Roy Jorrell grinned at her sheepishly. “Well … I’m having trouble with my car.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Again?”

He nodded. “Yeah. There’s this clunk, clunk, clunk sound whenever I start it up.”

“It’s late, and I should be getting home. Maybe you can come back after the holidays?”

“But what if there’s something wrong and I get stuck at home? Or on the side of the road?” He flashed her a boyish smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “Please, J.D.? You’re the best mechanic in town.”

Pop always said that you should never turn away business and to always treat customers well, but Roy was trying her patience. It was the third time this month he’d been in for some phantom sound or strange malfunction in his jacked-up GMC Sierra, but whenever she or one of her guys looked into it, his truck turned out to be perfectly fine. Why he kept coming back, she didn’t know.

“Oh, all right,” she said, resigned. “Let’s go take a look.”

She followed him to where he’d parked just outside the garage. “Go and start the car, and I’ll check under the hood,” she instructed him.

Minutes later, it was just as she thought—his truck was perfectly fine. “Nothing’s wrong here,” she said to him as she shut the hood.

“Oh?” He was suddenly behind her, startling even her own cat-like reflexes. “I could have sworn I heard something,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with his palm.

“Uh-huh.”

“So, you got plans for the holidays?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I’ll probably just be alone,” he said. “I didn’t want to make the trip back to my folks in Florida since I was planning to see them for Christmas.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, trying to feign interest. “Well, I should—”

“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me.”

“Excuse me?” She stared at him, hands on her hips.

Roy had been a classmate back in high school, but he moved away junior year. He was some kind of avian shifter, if she recalled; he was mostly a loner at school, an emo kid who dressed in all black. But, like most people, he grew out of that phase and was some kind of computer programmer or something who worked from home. She ran into him at the diner last month, as he had recently moved back into town. That was when he started coming into the garage. Is that why he’d been wasting her time? Irritation grew in her, and her cat hissed, not liking this male one bit.

He swallowed. “I … uh … I mean, just to thank you. For being so patient with me.”

J.D. thought about it for a moment. Roy was cute, she supposed, and he had a job and a full head of hair. What else did she want in a guy? She’d been dating actively for almost twelve years now, and he was a catch compared to all the losers she’d been with.

“J.D.?” Roy asked. “So? What do you think?”

“I think … I think it’s getting late.” She sidestepped him.

“But what about that dinner?”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” With a wave of her hand, she scampered to her truck. Shutting the door, she waited, watching Roy’s truck as it drove away, then breathed a sigh of relief.

Why didn’t I just say yes? She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. Maybe it was turning thirty or seeing her best friends with their mates, but she was starting to get picky about who she went out with. Her last date had been months ago with an accountant she met on a dating app, and it had been meh. And the last guy she had the serious hots for? Well, he didn’t even give her a second look. Besides, she was happy with her work, her life, and her social circle.

But now, all her friends had mates, including her last female friend, Dutchy Forrester, and she was starting to feel left out.

Sticking the key in the ignition, she started the car. Was she that oblivious that she missed the signs that he’d been coming to the garage to see her? That was it, right?

Maybe I should give Roy a chance.

Her cat hissed again.

“Oh, all right.” Putting the truck into gear, she left the parking lot and headed home.

* * *

By the next day, J.D. had forgotten about the Roy thing and feeling sorry for herself for being alone. There were worse things than not having a boyfriend after all.

Besides there was no reason to be glum—not these days anyways. The holidays were her favorite time of the year. She remembered how magical it had been growing up. The cool weather, the food, the infectious cheer. Who could be sad during Christmas, for crying out loud?

The days leading up to Christmas always sent her into a holiday high, and she was pretty stoked for tonight’s party. In the past, she and Pop celebrated Thanksgiving with Damon and his parents. Gabriel usually had to attend some kind of family dinner at the Russel estate, but he always managed to sneak off before dessert and join them. It was a tradition they continued, even after Pop passed and Damon was deployed and came back after being discharged. His parents had retired to Florida a couple of years back, but the three of them still got together on Thanksgiving. None of them could cook, unfortunately, so they would order Chinese takeout and watch football before her favorite tradition of all later that night.

Of course, this year was going to be a little different with the addition of the two more people—Damon’s mate Anna Victoria, and Temperance—but her best friends had assured her nothing would change.

And while she’d never been invited to the Blackstone Rangers Thanksgiving party before, she’d heard some stories about how amazing the spread was—turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, green beans, corn, dinner rolls. Mmmm. Her mouth was watering just thinking about it. This morning, she made sure to put on her best Thanksgiving sweater—the one with a roasted turkey on the front that proclaimed “I like Big Breasts and I Cannot Lie.” It was a big hit with the guys at the garage, so she was sure everyone at the party would love it.

After clocking out early for the day, she said goodbye to the crew and hopped into her truck. Since the rangers were in charge of keeping the mountains safe, their headquarters were located up in the Blackstone Mountains.

With the change in seasons, the trees and mountains presented a gorgeous view, making the drive a pleasant one, so she took her time. Eventually, she pulled up to the huge stone and log building, which stood at the entrance to the public area of the mountains, and parked her truck in the nearest empty spot. The party was probably going to be in the big cafeteria in the back, so she circled around the main building and walked into the open-air hall. Sure enough, the place was fully dressed to the nines in fall colors and decorations. She walked over to where Damon, Anna Victoria, Gabriel, Temperance, Dutchy, and Krieger sat down at one of the tables, which overflowed with wreathes, pine cones, ribbons, and other fall-themed accoutrements.

“It looks like Thanksgiving came in here and threw up all over the place!” she exclaimed, her eyes taking in all the fall harvest decorations. “I love it! Thanks for inviting me.”

Damon rolled his eyes when his saw her sweater. “J.D. loves the holidays, in case none of you noticed.”

“I do!” Seeing the empty spot next to Dutchy Forrester, she plopped down beside the fox shifter. “I mean, I love Halloween because that means it’s almost time for Thanksgiving, and I love Thanksgiving because it means soon it’ll be my favorite holiday of all time—Christmas! Woot!” She pumped her fist in the air.

“Oh God,” Gabriel slapped a hand on his forehead. “I forgot what a nightmare you are during the holidays.”

“I am not a nightmare,” she denied.

Damon raised a brow. “Remember that time you dragged us to Verona Mills so you could see Santa Claus and then got us kicked out of the mall because you fought with Santa’s elf?”

Oh yeah. How could she forget? As far as she knew, she was still banned from entering Verona Fair Mall. “That wasn’t my fault,” J.D. said. “He clearly lacked the Christmas spirit and needed to do a better job of representing the good elves of the North Pole.”

“You called him out because he wouldn’t let you sit on Santa’s lap,” Gabriel said.

“See?” She spread her arms wide, as if that proved her point. “Lack of Christmas spirit.”

“You were sixteen,” Damon pointed out.

J.D. harrumphed. “Unlike the sign they posted outside the Christmas village, the lyrics of that famous song didn’t say ‘to kids from ONLY one to twelve’ now did it?” She stuck her tongue out at Damon and Gabriel, then turned to Dutchy, grabbing one of the rolls of ribbons on the table. “Can I help?”

“Sure,” Dutchy said. “Here … let me show you.”

Her friend patiently showed her how to tie the shiny gold and orange ribbon into bows. Hmmm, simple enough, she thought. However, there was something missing with the wreaths. They didn’t look festive enough. So, she decided to unroll the entire spool so she could make bigger and better ribbons. Glancing around, she found a bunch of what looked like leftover decor stuff under the table.

Oooh! She grabbed a handful of maple leaves, some pine cones, an ear of corn, and a mini pumpkin. It took a lot of work, not to mention cuts on her fingers, but she somehow managed to get everything on an empty wreath.

“Uh, so did I do it right?” she asked Dutchy sheepishly as she held up her creation.

“J.D.!” Dutchy exclaimed. “What did you—how did you even manage to get these maple leaves wrapped up in here?”

“What?” J.D. asked innocently. “I thought it looked festive.”

“Er, it’s certainly … interesting,” Dutchy said. “But … let me give you some tips …”

As Dutchy helped her put her wreath to rights, more people joined them, including Daniel Rogers, his mate Sarah, and her adopted brother Adam. Of course, where they went, Darcey Wednesday, Sarah’s sister came, too, along with her mate, Anders Stevens.

“… but, great job, Dutchy,” Anders said. When his gaze landed on J.D.’s wreath, he grimaced. “Now that looks like your handiwork, McNamara.”

“Go fuck a French horn, Stevens,” she hissed.

“Be a nice kitty now,” he chortled. “So … how about caracal?”

J.D. crossed her arms over her chest. “Nuh-uh, you’re not going to make me say it.” The tiger shifter had been impossible ever since he found out she had shifted in front of other people and was now trying to guess what she was. Well, he would never find out, not if she could help it.

Darcey rolled her eyes. “I apologize for my mate. I swear, I can’t take him anywhere.”

“It’s all right, Darcey. Don’t apologize for him.” Getting to her feet, she turned to Anders. “However, I think you owe an apology to a tree somewhere for providing you oxygen.”

“Hey!” Anders protested.

J.D. chuckled. “All right, I’m gonna go look for some snacks.” She had forgotten to eat lunch since she was rushing to get all her work done, and now her stomach was gurgling with hunger. “I’ll see you guys around.”

Getting up from the table, she made her way into the main building. There was a vending machine somewhere on the first floor, but she couldn’t quite remember where.

Since everyone was probably outside waiting for the festivities to begin, it was empty inside and half the lights had been turned off. She walked down the main corridor, tapping her finger on her chin. Maybe it was by the locker room. Or the observation deck downstairs? Or—wait. An idea popped into her head.

Damon loved peanut butter cups, and when she had lunch with Anna Victoria the other day, she had seen her with a big bag of them. When she asked who they were for, Anna Victoria said it was for Damon to keep in his desk so he would stop being such a grumpy bear when he was busy and forgot to eat lunch.

Heading down the darkened hallway, she made her way to the very end where the door to Damon’s office was. She crept inside and dashed to the large oak desk, opening the bottom drawer on the right.

“Damon, you magnificent predictable bastard,” she exclaimed when she saw the drawer overflowing with not only peanut butter cups, but also other candy. “Don’t mind if I do,” she cackled, ripping a packet of peanut butter cups and devouring both. Before closing the drawer, she stuffed her jeans pockets with more candy and chocolate. Satisfied with her haul, she zipped toward the door. As she prepared to shove her weight against it, however, the door swung open, and J.D. found herself sailing forward.

“Shit!” Momentum kept her flying until she collided with something solid and hard. “What the—oomph!” She landed on the floor with a hard thud, the wind knocked out of her. It took her a second before realizing that it wasn’t the floor she’d landed on. No, she was right on top of someone. A living, breathing someone, based on the rise and fall of the chest she was now plastered to. “I’m so—oohhh!” A delicious male scent teased her nostrils, and she pressed her nose against the khaki fabric underneath her, taking a big whiff. Hmmm. That scent made her want to curl into a ball and wrap it around herself. Strangely, her cat felt the exact same way. Huh. Her prickly little feline never had an opinion on any male … ever.

“If you wouldn’t mind …”

The smooth voice sent tingles across her skin. “Actually, I do mind—hey!”

She found herself being pushed away, then hauled up to her feet as warm hands gripped her arms. “What do you think you’re doing, tossing me around like a sack of—” A gasp left her mouth as her gaze collided with the most unusual blue-violet eyes she’d ever seen. Even behind the gold-rimmed glasses, she could feel them examining her with cold, detached curiosity.

Mine, her cat purred from out of nowhere.

And his animal let out a triumphant roar as it answered back: Mine!

“Well, fuck me sideways,” J.D. breathed out. “You’re—”

“My mate,” he finished, that cool stare never leaving hers.

The low, edgy growl that rumbled from his chest sent heat straight to her nether regions. “Oooh,” she moaned, her knees weakening. Control yourself, woman, she chided herself as she leaned back to steady herself on the door. You too, you little hussy, she told her cat, which was now lying down on the ground, rolling on its back and showing its belly. Oh, come on now. Play it cool. That was the plan anyway, at least, until she lifted her head to meet those eyes again.

The icy, unaffected gaze slowly melted as his blue-violet eyes ignited with desire. Before she knew it, he pushed her against the door, his hands moving from her shoulders up to her neck and jaw as he lowered his head to hers.

Holy fucking moly.

His mouth attacked hers hungrily, like he’d been starving for weeks. Another growl sent her hormones through the roof. When she tried to move her hands up, he gripped her wrists and pinned them over her head.

Jesus Henry Christ, her panties practically flooded at the dominant move, and she melted against him. His lips never left hers as he continued to devour her, their kisses rough and wild as their teeth and tongues clashed. At some point he had lifted her up, and her legs wrapped around his waist. Finding her hands free, she wrapped her arms round his neck to bring him closer.

“God … need you …” he groaned.

“Yes,” she said as she reached under her, grabbing the handle and twisting it until the door swung open, his gait steady as he walked them back inside Damon’s office. The loud thud of the door closing didn’t even register in her brain as her body temperature rose, and that need to be with him, to have him inside her, eclipsed every other thought in her brain.

When he put her down, her hands fumbled at the buttons on his uniform shirt as his reached for the hem of her top. Their mouths only parted long enough for him to whip the sweater off her. She moaned when his hands found her breasts and cupped them through her bra, and she practically ripped the buttons off his shirt.

“Desk,” she growled against his mouth. He didn’t need to be told again as he lifted her up and crossed the room in half a second. She found herself planted on top of Damon’s neat desk, knees parting to bring their hips back in contact. Though she protested when he pulled his mouth away, her body jolted when his lips landed on her neck. She thrust her fingers into his scalp, loosening the long hair tied back into a ponytail.

With a guttural grunt, he planted her down on the hard desk, stepping back, his breath coming in pants. The light outside was waning, casting shadows into the room from the trees outside, and her shifter senses adjusted as she traced her gaze up from his small waist, perfectly-formed abs exposed by his parted shirt and chiseled chest before landing on his face.

Wowza.

Her mate was eye-poppingly, panty-droppingly, handsome. Long, blond hair framed a face that would have made Lucifer jealous, with its patrician nose, cheekbones that could cut glass, and firm lips that were now swollen. When he took off his glasses, the naked desire in his blue-violet eyes could have made her spontaneously combust right then and there.

Awoooooooooga.

Blackstone Ranger Scrooge Releases December 2

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