Hunter's Mate - Becca Jameson Page 0,2

Layla continued to chuckle to herself as they headed to the airport. It wasn’t as if Layla was going to inform Pam the Uber driver that she was hoping to have sex with a shifter this week.

Seriously though, what was Layla thinking? Canyon Springs was a small town. It would be rude to arrive and immediately start scouting out the men. People would expect them to be in mourning. Their aunt just died. A bit of reverence was in order.

Gah. The only reason why Layla knew what the woman looked like was because Mabel was her identical twin. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to pick her aunt out of a lineup. Grandma Mabel hadn’t even kept childhood pictures of the two of them. At least not out for anyone to see.

When Mabel passed away, Layla and Elena hadn’t been able to stay in their hometown of Hyde Park, Colorado, more than a few days. They’d given Mabel’s lawyer permission to hire someone to hold an estate sale. Layla knew there was a small storage unit in town, which held mementos and keepsakes, including old photo albums, but neither she nor Elena had gone back to pick anything up or even visit. They really should someday soon. It was only a few hours from Canyon Springs. If only life weren’t so darn complicated.

Layla closed her eyes during the drive and took several cleansing breaths. No matter what, this was going to be an adventure, and she hoped to make the most out of it.

She also hoped Elena would agree. They needed to reconnect. Have some fun. Laugh. Eat. Drink. And hey, if they also managed to meet some sexy hunks, Layla wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity.

Chapter 2

December 3, 1964

Dear Mabel,

I just got off the phone with Mom. She said you met someone! I’m so happy for you. She said his name is George. I bet he’s handsome and perfect. I hope if you marry him you’ll consider inviting me to the wedding.

How is teaching going? My students are getting restless as we get closer to the holidays. There are still several weeks left before Christmas vacation, but you’d think it already started.

It snowed six inches here last week. We were off school on Friday. I heard the storm missed Hyde Park almost entirely. That’s lucky for you, I guess. It’s pretty, but we’re in for a long winter at this rate.

Stay safe. Write me about George. I want to hear all about him.

Love, Marge

Hunter’s legs were throbbing from lactic acid build up. Perhaps a five-mile run hadn’t been the best idea this evening. Or, maybe it had something to do with the fact that he didn’t run that hard or that far often enough.

For the last few months, he’d been swamped at work. Luckily, it was looking like things would lighten up for a bit. He had even considered taking a few days off. Though he had yet to mention that to his best friend and partner, Caleb.

Still sucking in deep breaths, he stood at the edge of a ridge staring into the distance. The view from this particular lookout point was beyond spectacular. His favorite in all of Canyon Springs. Years ago, he’d mapped out this particular route for his runs, making sure he ended up standing right here in the end where he could see for miles in every direction. The lush, green trees were life-affirming in the summer, and when they were capped with snow in the winter, the vision was postcard perfect.

As Hunter lifted one arm to extend behind his head for a deep stretch, holding his elbow back with his other hand, he breathed in the clean scent of pine and nature. The ridge was only a half mile from his home, which gave him the perfect distance to cool down after his run.

The sun would set in a few minutes, and he intended to watch it before heading back. Just as he was switching arms, he inhaled an unfamiliar scent. For a moment, he stood frozen, his mind swimming with the implication. He tried to absorb what was happening, but his brain kept firing random thoughts that were impossible to fully process.

Luckily he managed to convince his feet to move, allowing him to spin around at the same moment the owner of the scent came jogging around the corner of the windy road.

Hunter blinked, unable to breathe or speak or move another muscle. Was it possibly his mind was playing tricks on