Lone Star Magic (Shifters in the Heart of Texas Book 3)

  Lone Star Magic

  Shifters in the Heart of Texas, Book 3

  By Sloane Meyers

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Similarities to actual people or events are entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Sloane Meyers. All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  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

  More Books by Sloane Meyers

  Thank You For Reading!

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Molly Graham stood on her front lawn with tears streaming down her face.

  “Sorry, lady,” the driver said as he climbed into the cab of the tow truck. “I have to do my job.”

  He looked uncomfortable and awkward as he spoke the words. He quickly shut the door behind him, then backed up into the narrow roadway and drove away. Molly’s four-year-old car was on the back of the tow truck. She’d fallen too far behind on payments, and the bank had repossessed it.

  Molly willed herself to stop crying, but the tears kept coming. Across the street, she saw a curtain flutter as one of her neighbors peeked out, curious what all the noise had been about. When Molly looked over, the face in the window quickly disappeared, but it was too late. Molly knew she was being watched. But that didn’t surprise her in the least. She’d spent her whole life being stared at. With wild, curly red hair, emerald green eyes, and a heavily freckled face, Molly tended to stand out from the crowd. And, as if her appearance wasn’t already enough to draw attention, she had a quirky streak a mile wide. She’d never wanted to follow the beaten path. She preferred to blaze her own trail, finding joy in wearing clothes that were bright and colorful—and definitely not from the pages of Vogue magazine. She’d indulged in a random assortment of hobbies, from cake decorating to poetry contests to magic tricks.

  It was the last hobby, magic, that had eventually become her bread and butter. It turns out that writing poetry didn’t help much with paying the bills, and cake decorating wasn’t enough of a passion for her to want to make a career out of it. But she loved magic. She started performing for different events in nearby Dallas, and had developed quite a reputation. Her weekends were usually booked out with shows at different bars or coffee shops. Sometimes she did special events like corporate parties or even kids birthdays. She was making decent money, and having fun while she did. And, best of all, when she was on stage no one made fun of her, or judged her for looking “different.” On stage, she was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be a little weird. She was even celebrated for it. Life was good. She wasn’t rich, but she was comfortable. She had enough to buy a small house in her hometown, and to get herself a sporty black car.

  But when a big, fancy magic company moved into town, owned by a well-connected millionaire brat-boy, Molly found herself suddenly out of work. The owner of the new company pressured the bars and coffeehouses into only using his performers, and Molly’s bookings slowed to a trickle and then ceased altogether. She found herself struggling to make her mortgage and car payments. Finally, she gave up on paying the car, focusing instead on keeping her house. It had been a decision of desperation, but as she watched her car being towed out of sight, she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps she should have let the house go, instead. How would she find work, when she didn’t even have a car to get to Dallas? Public transportation was pretty much nonexistent around here. Molly sighed. She was screwed either way.

  She saw another curtain fluttering across the street. Yet another one of her neighbors was spying on her, likely taking some sort of sick pleasure in her misfortune. For some reason, they all seemed to enjoy it when things went badly for her. Molly supposed that they were happy that her weirdness was being stifled. She was different, and different made people uncomfortable.

  Molly brushed away the fresh wave of tears that came on, then scurried into her house to get away from the prying eyes that were watching her. There was no sense in standing out on her front lawn any longer. The tow truck was long gone, and, with it, her car.

  Molly sat down cross-legged on her couch and turned on the television. She flipped mindlessly through the channels, not really seeing anything. Eventually, she set the remote down and went to her kitchen to get a glass of water. When she returned and resumed her cross-legged position on the couch, she realized the show she had landed on was a popular talk show. Molly took a long sip of water as she watched the host talking to a group of men and women who had participated in a gratitude project. The group had performed random acts of kindness for a period of two weeks to see how it affected their happiness levels. According to the members of the group, it had done wonders for their mood.

  Molly frowned. She was tempted to brush off the experiment, and to tell herself that someone as down on their luck as her couldn’t do much of anything to improve her happiness. But Molly had always had a kind heart, even though others frequently made fun of her. Something about the experiment appealed to her. Hell, if she was going to lose everything, anyway, she might as well have fun in the meantime.

  Molly sat up straighter and started to devise a plan. She would come up with a series of random acts of kindness she could do for people in town. She would be careful not to be caught, so no one knew it was her. And she would see if doing so would lift her own low spirits. Maybe if she looked beyond herself to see how she could make others smile, she would feel better.

  It was worth a shot, at least.

  Molly decided to begin by baking a couple batches of sugar cookies. She was a damn good baker, and she had all the ingredients for the cookies. She would make some of her impossibly good cookies, package them up, and give them out to people at random. Maybe she would even include encouraging little notes.

  Molly suddenly felt excited for the first time in what felt like ages. She needed a project to help her push down the nagging fears that constantly filled her mind, and this might be just the thing. Molly flipped off the television and went to her kitchen. She turned some dance music up loud, then started baking up a storm. She baked batch after batch of cookies, and, for just a short while, she managed to forget about the fact that she had no good friends, no job, no money, and no real prospects for the future.

  Maybe she was having a bad year, but at least she had her health, and the ability to make other people smile. Somehow, everything would work out. She had no idea how, but she had faith that it would.

  Chapter Two

  Zane Wilson stood dumbfounded on his front porch, watching Sasha hop in her car and drive away. She was supposed to be coming over for a movie night, but instead of showing up excited for a date, she had shown up several hours early with a frown on her face. When she’d rung the doorbell, Zane had answered it with a surprised, questioning look on his face. When he’d asked her if everything was okay, she’d dropped a small box at his feet.

  “These are all of your things that were at my place,” she’d said. “I’m returning them.”

  Zane had felt a sense of sudden dread creeping through his being.

  “Why?” he’d asked.

  “We’re done,” she’d said. “I can’t keep up this façade anymore. We
’re not right for each other and you know it.”

  Now she was disappearing down the street in a cloud of dust, with the small box sitting at Zane’s feet. He was shell-shocked. He had no idea what she was talking about. He’d thought that they were perfect together. He’d even been considering whether the time was right to propose to her. And then she’d ended it, with no explanation. He’d tried to get her to explain. He’d reached out to try to hold her hand, to pull her back, to assure her that whatever was bothering her could be talked through, and wasn’t a reason to just end everything.

  But she’d wrenched her hand away and made a beeline for her car. She’d left without another word. Zane looked down at the box that held a few of his t-shirts and a book he had loaned to Sasha. He cursed and kicked the box, sending its contents tumbling down the porch steps. Then he turned and went back into his house, grabbing his cell phone from the kitchen counter and dialing Sasha’s number. She didn’t answer, so he texted her. Sasha, please come back and just talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. He called again, but of course there was no answer. And he knew there would be no answer to his text, either.

  Zane cursed and threw his phone across the room, not even caring if the screen cracked. He put his head down on his hands, leaning against the counter and swearing in a long stream of anger. He racked his brain, trying to think about whether there had been any warning signs that Sasha wasn’t happy. But he couldn’t think of anything. He’d thought that they were having a grand old time together. She was constantly laughing and smiling, and they spent most of their free time together. What the hell had gone wrong?

  Zane stood up straight and rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out what to do next. Should he try to call again? Text her more and demand an explanation? Give her some space and hope she came to her senses? Do something romantic like send roses and an apology, even though he had no idea what the hell he would be apologizing for?

  Zane swiped angrily at the pile of mail, causing all but one envelope to fly to the floor. He could hardly see through his rage, but he still noticed the large, bold letters on the return address of the envelope that remained.

  IRS.

  Zane frowned and felt a fresh wave of anxiety wash over him. Why was he getting a letter from the IRS? He tore the envelope open and scanned its content, then quickly wished that he hadn’t. A fresh stream of curses ran from his mouth as he realized that his business, Zane’s Electric, was being audited.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he said aloud. “Did I really just find out in the span of the last fifteen minutes that my girlfriend is leaving me and that my business’s taxes are being audited?”

  The question hung heavy in the silence, and Zane rubbed his forehead again, frowning as he tried to rub away the headache that was coming on. He threw the letter on the floor with the rest of his mail, then went to retrieve his phone from the corner of the floor where it had landed. Miraculously, the screen had not cracked. He swiped to unlock the phone, then texted his brother, Drake.

  Can you meet me at the gym? I’m having the day from hell and need to blow off some steam?

  Drake answered less than a minute later. Sure thing. I’ve been meaning to text you to hang out this week, anyway.

  Zane let out a sigh of relief. He could always count on his brothers, Drake and Theo. They were the only ones who truly understood the struggles he faced as a man and a dragon shifter, and he felt lucky every day to have them. They’d lost their father when they were young, but the loss had brought them closer together than before. Zane relied on them for advice and support, and they did the same for him. They truly were a band of brothers.

  Zane quickly dressed for the gym, then hopped in his truck and sped over to the small gray building. Persimmon Springs, Texas was a small town, and they didn’t have many gym options. This gym was housed in an older building, and the place was small. But the equipment was all new, and the staff that worked there was top notch. Zane loved the place. A new cross fit gym had opened in town last year, and Drake loved the place. But Zane still preferred his traditional gym, and Drake humored him by working out with him here now and then.

  Drake, who lived just a few blocks over from the gym, was already there when Zane arrived. Zane nodded at him, then gestured toward the door.

  “Let’s go break a sweat,” he said.

  The pair made their way to the weights room, and Zane started setting up a bar to do some squats. Drake grabbed a couple large dumbbells and started doing some bicep curls as though the dumbbells were made of feathers. Dragon shifters were always strong, but Drake was unusually strong, even for a dragon.

  “So what’s up,” Drake asked, his voice neutral. He waited patiently while Zane did a couple reps before speaking.

  “The IRS is auditing my business,” Zane said as he dropped the bar with a loud clang.

  Drake raised an eyebrow in surprise, as though that was not at all what he was expecting Zane to say.

  “Really? That sucks. Do you think your taxes were done incorrectly?”

  “No, I’m sure they’re right,” Zane said, his voice bitter and angry. “But the audit is going to be a huge headache and a heck of a lot of work. I’m already running on empty, trying to keep my small business running on my own. How am I supposed to find time to get everything organized so the IRS can run an audit?”

  The volume of Zane’s voice had risen several notches by now. He was angry and frustrated, much more so over Sasha leaving him than over the audit. But he was struggling to find the strength to actually say the words “Sasha left me” out loud. Somehow, saying it out loud made it all seem so much more real, and so much more painful.

  Drake cocked his head to one side and looked suspiciously over at Zane. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?”

  Zane knew what Drake meant. Drake knew that something deeper was bothering Zane. But still, Zane couldn’t bring himself to say anything about Sasha out loud. Not yet. He needed to pump himself up first with a few more reps with the heavy weight bar. He huffed and wheezed as he lifted the bar above his head and squatted down. Drake watched him, lazily holding his dumbbells but not actually doing any more bicep curls. When Zane finally dropped the bar again with a loud clang, he looked over at Drake with a frown.

  “There’s also Sasha,” Zane admitted.

  “Sasha?” Drake asked, looking suddenly alarmed.

  “She left me,” Zane said. “Just an hour ago. She came over, dumped some of my stuff on my front porch and said we were through. No warning, no explanation. She left in a cloud of dust, just like that.”

  Zane fought back the hot tears that were trying to spill over his eyelids. He didn’t want to cry. He was a dragon, and a man’s man. He wasn’t going to shed more tears over Sasha, especially not here in the middle of a public gym. Zane took a moment to regain his composure, then looked back up at Drake. To his surprise, Drake didn’t seem shocked by this news. Instead, Drake was thoughtfully stroking his chin.

  “Did she seem to be acting unusual at all lately?” Drake asked.

  “No, and that’s the weird thing,” Zane said. “Everything was great. She seemed happier than ever, in fact.”

  “Perhaps a little too happy?” Drake asked gently.

  Zane narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at Drake?”

  Drake spoke slowly and carefully. “I’ve heard a few things lately about Sasha that I wanted to ask you about. That’s actually why I’ve been meaning to text you to get together.”

  “What do you mean you’ve heard things? What kind of things?” Zane asked. His heart had suddenly started beating rapidly, and he could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

  Drake paused, and then met Zane’s eyes with a serious, pained expression. “I have it on pretty good authority that she was cheating on you. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was from a credible enough source that I wanted to ask you about it. It seems to me that, if she has been unusually happy lately and then broke up with
you out of nowhere, that the rumors are likely true.”

  Zane felt nauseating waves of anger washing over him. “Who told you that?” he roared, not caring that he was being too loud or that the few other people in the gym were starting to stare at him.

  “Max,” Drake said. “We were at the bar together two nights ago and he told me that he’d seen Sasha leaving with some random guy before I arrived. He said the guy wasn’t anyone he knew. Maybe someone from Dallas or Fort Worth. But Sasha and the guy were acting pretty cozy, and they left together in each other’s car. It looked…bad.”

  Zane felt like the air had gone out of his lungs. Max was one of their good friends, and the best friend of Zane’s older brother, Theo. Max was also married to Cassie, the owner of the Hometown Bar. Max and Cassie had an adorable baby girl named Nora, and their little family was just like family to Zane and his brothers. Max wouldn’t have said anything to Drake unless he was sure there was really a problem. And it made perfect sense. Of course Sasha had been happy. She’d been glowing with the excitement of new love, and Zane had been too blind to see it. Zane felt his stomach turn. He’d loved her so much. He’d given his whole heart to her, and she had treated him like a worthless piece of trash.

  Zane’s face turned red with anger. He let out an angry roar, and then grabbed the weight bar. He must have done twenty reps before he stopped. He lost track at some point. All he knew was he was filled with rage, and he was taking it out on the weight bar. His dragon within him was ready to spit fire, and Zane had to find a way to regain control. He knew everyone in the gym was probably looking at him, curious about why he was so angry, and wondering how he managed so many reps in a row. When Zane’s dragon felt fury and rose up within him, he had an almost superhuman strength. Right now, Zane was so full of rage that he felt like he could have lifted the weight bar with one hand.

  “Z, you gotta calm down,” Drake warned gently. Zane shot daggers at him with his eyes.