Mateo's Blood Brother (Book 2 in the Mateo Series)

 

Behind the amicable facade is a man who's tough and determined, and he's Mateo's Blood Brother.

They were friends, close as brothers. Then they weren’t.

Mateo and Jesse are cautiously working their way back to friendship when Jesse discovers the unthinkable. Delilah, the sultry shifter who’d had affairs with both men, is still alive. The tumble she took over a mountain ridge—a fall that nearly killed Mateo—should have finished her.

Now, there’s no choice but for the two men to work together to take down a she-devil straight from hell.  As the stakes escalate and the hunt becomes more intense, another wolf appears on the scene. Always where Jesse’s at. Always when he’s in trouble.  Jesse is divided between ending Delilah, a new love interest, discovering the identity of a certain brown wolf and staying alive.

 

Excerpt 

 

A shadow fell across the desk. Unexpected. Eerie in the predawn gloom.

Nerves thrumming, Sheriff Mateo Grey’s head shot up and he reached for his gun.

A lanky man in jeans and a tan uniform-shirt, with coal-black hair pulled back in a tail, leaned against the doorframe of Mateo’s office. A shield attached to his brown leather belt. The scent of fresh air and earthy musk followed him in. He moseyed over and dropped boneless into the hard, wooden chair, in front of the desk.

“What the hell, Jesse?  You sneak around like a—”

“Indian?” 

“Cat was what I was about to say. Don’t try to snag me with political incorrectness.” Mateo shook himself, leaned back in his worn office chair and drilled the Chief of Police of the Blackfeet Nation with a hard stare. 

Jesse snorted and handed him a paper cup, with Belle’s Beans printed on the side, then took a sip of his own. Not a drop had spilled when he collapsed into the chair, reminding Mateo of the man’s innate feline grace.

“Thanks.” Fragrant steam rose from the opening, the cup warm against Mateo’s hand. His tight jaws relaxed. Belle served the best coffee in the county.

He took a long swallow. The caffeinated liquid rolled down his throat, hit his belly and kickstarted him into hyperdrive.

“Okay, Jesse, hit me.”

Tight lips set in a lean face twitched. “I’ve been wanting to for months.”

“Years more like.” Mateo flashed a grin.

Growing up, the men had been close as brothers. Best friends. Blood brothers. Then they weren’t. His fault.

Cautious and slow, they were working their way back to friendship.

Jesse grinned back, nodding in acknowledgement.

“Surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?” He and Jesse had a contentious relationship and even though they were moiling their way toward a more even footing, they weren’t there yet.

“What makes you think I want anything?”

“You know the old saying, beware law enforcement officers bearing gifts.”

“At least I didn’t bring donuts.”

Mateo gave a crack of laughter and, just like that, the lingering tension of a moment before broke.

“Where is everyone?” Jesse peered through the open doorway, a long gash on the worn, stained frame, left by a previous, unhappy visitor.

“It’s not seven yet. Nobody here but me and the dispatcher. But they’ll be streaming in any minute.” He pointed at the large-faced, black-rimmed, round clock that adorned the plain white walls of his office.

“How’s Blair?”

The question sidetracked Mateo as no doubt it was meant to, as a vision of his fiancée with tousled hair and covers pulled up to her nose rose in his mind, along with another body part. Having his fiancée as his chief deputy was both a blessing and a curse.  Stubborn as a mule, she didn’t take kindly to being told what to do. But offsetting that, his chief deputy—his woman—was brave, smart and able to handle herself.  Not to mention sexy as hell.

He squirmed in his chair and got himself back on track.

“She’s fine. Now, what is it you’re not telling me? It’s not like you to beat around the bush.”

Silence built. Tension swelled.

Mateo thrummed his fingers on the desk, waiting. The drumming echoed in the quiet.

Jesse stared over Mateo’s left shoulder as if waiting for divine intervention. None was forthcoming. Finally, he straightened his shoulders and turned his gaze to Mateo. “She’s alive.”

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