Jessica Sims - Vixen

Miko hated it when people showed up on her doorstep.

It was the one reason she’d moved to the country, after all. Well, one of many. Modern life involved a great many people crammed into very small spaces, and that was difficult to deal with when you were a were-fox with the constant need to shift to fox form. But even more than that, just being around men made her hormones sing. Were-foxes weren’t called vixens for nothing. Out in the wild, a fox vixen was prone to, well, polygamous relationships, and that carried over to their human counterparts. Spend a few hours of time around a man? She’d start to feel the need to select a mate. But if men weren’t around? No problem. No needs. No worries. No mates. Just peace and quiet, where she could relax and paint to her heart’s content.

Add in the fact that the country was serene and involved very, very few door-to-door salesmen, living outside of the city in an old farmhouse was perfect for her needs.

So it was irritating to see two men on her big wrap-around porch.

Even more irritating, they’d rung the doorbell three times now and didn’t appear to be going anywhere. She’d have to answer at some point because every time it rang, it broke her concentration. Sighing, Miko dumped her pencil into the Mason jar that held her artist supplies and left her studio, moving across the old farmhouse to the front door.

As she pushed through her kitchen, a particular object caught her ire – a delicate green bonsai tree on the counter, a leafy green oasis in the clutter. Another one of her mother’s gifts. She hadn’t realized her mother had left one the last time she came over. Seeing the bonsai just made her even more irritated, and she grabbed it and swept it into the garbage before continuing on to the front door.

That was her mother – never taking no for an answer. No matter how many times Miko told her to butt out, she’d completely ignore her daughter’s wishes. Maybe it was a were-fox trait to be stubborn and independent beyond all reason. Her mother didn’t even like the term ‘were-fox’. She preferred ‘kitsune’.

Miko preferred were-fox. Which pretty much told everything about her relationship with Yui Woodward.

Miko jerked the door open, about to snarl something unpleasant through the screen. She didn’t need her roof redone, wasn’t interested in selling the mineral rights to her land, and certainly didn’t need to buy candy bars or Girl Scout Cookies or have her lawn mowed. As soon as she glimpsed the men on her porch, though, she stopped.

If these men were roofers, damn, maybe she should get her roof redone. Because…wow. Every hormone in her body went instantly on alert. Both men were gorgeous, in that odd, mismatched pair sort of way. One was enormous, with big, broad shoulders, huge muscled arms, and a close-cropped skullcap of dark hair. It should have made him frightening except for the fact that the look in his soft brown eyes was warm and mild, as was the smile curving his mouth.

His companion was slightly more compact, his frame that of a swimmer rather than a bodybuilder, and his blond hair fell in loose, tousled waves across his forehead. Where his companion had warm eyes, this one’s sharp blue eyes sparkled with a dangerous, fun gleam. Miko could tell at a glance that they were polar opposites. The mild one and the wild child.

And judging from the mischievous look in the blonde’s eyes as she sized them up, they knew it too.

Immediately, her fox nature began to react. When a desirable male was in the area, her natural instinct was to preen and pose to make herself more attractive. To slide her hands slowly over her body when she knew they were looking. To give a man hot, possessive looks to let him know she was interested. Two handsome men? Well. It was an immediate turn-on, and she licked her lips, her voice pitching low. “Can I help you two with something?”

“I sure hope so,” said the blond, grinning at her. He hadn’t missed her quick appraisal – and approval – of their appearances.

The dark haired one cleared his throat, the hint of a blush tingeing his cheeks. He pulled out his wallet and approached the screen door. “My name is Jeremiah Russell, and this is Sam Thorpe.”

Miko kept the smile on her face. “And?”

“Yui Westwood sent us.”

God. Not another one of her mother’s matchmaking schemes. Miko raised a skeptical eyebrow and crossed her arms. “And I shouldn’t tell you both to fuck off…why, exactly?”

Sam licked his thumb and raised it to the breeze, waiting a moment for it to change. As soon as it did, she knew.

They were shifters. Just like her. Here on her doorstep. Two cat shifters, if her nose was correct. Her eyes narrowed. Well. That either made things really interesting, or really annoying. Either way, she couldn’t turn them away from her door. Miko opened the screen door, gesturing for them to come inside. “I should have guessed.”

“Your mother said you should call if you have concerns,” the darker-haired one began in a mild voice.

“Or if you’re just wowed by our charm,” the blond added with a grin and clapped his friend on the back. “Though this behemoth might make you a little anxious.”

Again, the darker one showed signs of embarrassment, but it was a good-natured embarrassment. As if the two ribbed each other all the time and the blond just happened to get the upper hand. Sam and Jeremiah, she reminded herself, trying to memorize their names. Sam the cocky blond and Jeremiah the sweet, overgrown brunette.

She wondered if they teamed up for everything. A throb of heat flashed deep inside her body, making her pulse flutter.

Frowning at her instant response, Miko shut the door and moved toward the kitchen. Annoying visitors or not, she had to offer hospitality to fellow shifters. “Can I get you guys something to drink? I need to make a quick phone call to my mother.”

“Of course,” said the tall one easily.

She poured two glasses of iced tea into tumblers and reached for the phone, cradling it to her ear and turning her back to her guests. The phone’s short cord kept her in the room, which she found irritating; the two feline shifters would be able to hear everything her mother said, even through the phone line. Shifters of all kinds had amazing hearing.

“ It’s about time you called ,” her mother said into the phone, in Japanese.

Miko drummed her fingers on the receiver. Her mother always spoke Japanese, but mostly did it to annoy her daughter, who hated reminders of who and what she was. For once, though, it was working in her favor. She doubted either of the shifters in her house spoke Japanese. She replied in Japanese. “ Mother, why are you sending strange men over to my house ?”

“ Not strange men. Two shifters ,” Yui corrected. “ They will help you this week .”

“ What do I need help with ?”

“ Did you find yourself a mate? Is he there to protect you ?”

“ God, Mother. Do you have a one track mind? I’m twenty-seven. Is that what this is? Matchmaking? I don’t need your help with men—”

“ You are headstrong and foolish and you —”

“I’ll call you later, Mother,” Miko said loudly, in English. “When you’re ready to have a real conversation.”

“ Miko-chan ,” Yui warned, “ listen to your mother—”

“Gotta go,” she said, and hung up. Miko stared at the phone, and then pinched the bridge of her nose. Why had she even called her mother? Yui didn’t approve of Miko’s quiet lifestyle and thought she should spend her time recruiting men to service her were-fox needs if she didn’t take a mate or two. Her mother – still incredibly beautiful at fifty-five – had a harem of men that she kept at her disposal, and constantly had a new boyfriend in the wings. As a child, it had been confusing. As a teenager, it had been humiliating. When she’d grown up, she’d vowed that she’d control her own were-fox nature better. No harem of men. No constant stream of new boyfriends that zipped out of her life as quickly as they zipped in. Miko preferred a quiet, celibate life.