With a Gentle Nudge Read online

  On the Road: Stopping to say hello to an old friend, a brawny human discovers a strange new world.

  Pierce Rinkon lives a simple life. Having been born with a learning disorder as well as a disability, he knew he was considered by most to be a little on the dim side. That doesn’t stop him from enjoying his life, though. His work as a receptionist for his small town’s sheriff’s office allows him plenty of interaction with others. For fun, Pierce runs, boxes, and finds men interested in a quick romp. After all, he doesn’t expect anyone to be interested in him long-term. While out on a morning run deep in the woods, he spots an old acquaintance—retired deputy Mac. When Pierce heads over to say hi, he watches something crazy happen... an animal changes into a man. As he’s struggling to process what he’s seen, a good-looking dark-haired guy named Daevon makes it plain he’s interested in him. Except, Daevon isn’t human, and he turns into a scary-looking wolverine. On top of that, Pierce discovers Daevon is smart, educated, and is a retired college professor. How could Daevon possibly be interested in a dumb, small-town hick like Pierce?

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  With a Gentle Nudge

  Copyright © 2019 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-2714-6

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  With a Gentle Nudge

  Kontra’s Menagerie: Book Twenty-Six

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  A kind heart is a fountain of gladness, making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles.

  ~Washington Irving

  Chapter One

  After shaking out his arms, Pierce Rinkon began unwrapping the tape around his hands. He ignored the sweat dripping down his body as he grinned with pleasure. Spending twenty minutes beating a heavy bag always left him feeling good.

  “Great intensity, Pierce,” Anthony stated, slapping him on the shoulder. With a laugh, he added, “You always give that heavy bag a hell of a beating. Are you imagining someone you hate?”

  Pierce chuckled as he shook his head. Peering down at the slightly shorter man—the gym’s owner, Anthony O’Dair—he admitted, “Pretty much my mind goes blank. All I think about is how I need to move my body.”

  Anthony patted Pierce’s shoulder again, continuing to grin widely. “There’s an opening in the boxing tournament next Saturday.” Resting his hands on his hips, Anthony told him, “I know you’d originally declined, but I thought I’d check with you first to see if your schedule opened up.”

  Placing his unwrapped boxing tape in the garbage, Pierce considered Anthony’s question. He’d competed in a number of competitions at the gym over the last couple of years, and he normally did pretty well, even managing to win a few. Unfortunately, over the last several months, some new gym members had become extremely competitive.

  Pierce didn’t enjoy sparring with them because they were so aggressive. The trio boxed with each other and any guys bigger than themselves that they could talk into it. They seemed to want to make a point that they could take out all the boxers larger than themselves.

  The jerks have a size inferiority complex.

  Having made the mistake of accepting what Pierce had thought was a friendly sparring match, he’d learned his lesson first hand. At six-foot-four, he’d had a good height advantage on Kenny, who stood at six-foot-even. However, since Kenny and his friends focused on pumping up their arms, the other man was wider than Pierce. Uncertain what to expect, Pierce had started out keeping his punches light as he felt out his opponent.

  Hearing Kenny’s buddies—Bill and Stan—shouts of encouragement to, “Take him down, lay him out, and put him down,” told Pierce it wasn’t going to be a friendly match. Kenny had tried to wale on Pierce, but Pierce had been boxing for years. He’d picked up his game and landed enough punches to send Kenny to his knees, getting himself out of the ring as swiftly as possible.

  As it was, Pierce had been damn sore for days.

  Kenny had asked for a rematch a week later, but so far, Pierce had been able to put him off. He didn’t accept fights from Bill or Stan, either. The trio razzed him often, asking him what he was afraid of and jeering him for being yella.

  Whatever. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.

  Pierce boxed for fun.

  “So what do you say?” Anthony asked, redrawing Pierce’s attention.

  Do I want to possibly box one of the annoying trio?

  Not really, but Pierce realized he couldn’t allow a few assholes to drive him away from one of his favorite pastimes. Besides, with the different weight divisions, Pierce hoped it wouldn’t happen. He knew there was a chance, however, since even though the trio were slightly shorter than him, they were heavy with muscle.

  Dumb ‘roid heads.

  “Yeah. I’ll fill the slot,” Pierce stated, meeting Anthony’s gaze. Curiosity getting the better of him, he asked, “Who dropped out?”

  “Fantastic. I’ll go get the forms while you clean up and change.” Anthony grinned broadly as he began walking backward toward his office. “And Kenny had to withdraw after cracking a couple bones in his left hand.” Snorting, Anthony rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what he decided to punch, but he’s paying for it now.”

  “Huh. Okay.” Pierce waved and started toward the locker room. At least one of the three wasn’t going to be competing.

  While Pierce didn’t like wishing ill on anyone, he couldn’t say he was sorry about feeling a sense of relief.

  Pierce opened his locker and pulled out a towel. After stripping down, he wrapped it around his waist before shoving the dirty clothes into his bag. He grabbed his shower kit and headed to the showers.

  As Pierce reached into a stall and turned on the water, he felt a smack to his ass. He scowled as he peered over his shoulder. Seeing Bill standing there in his workout gear, an unfriendly gleam in his brown eyes, Pierce bit back a sneer and smoothed his face into a bland expression.

  “Bill,” Pierce stated by way of greeting.

  “Hey, cocksucker,” Bill responded glibly. “Overheard you’re takin’ Kenny’s place in the contest.”

  Pierce dipped his chin in a slight nod. “Yep.” He didn’t know if Bill truly knew he was gay, but he wasn’t going to engage. That would just encourage the man. “See you there.”

  Turning back toward his shower, Pierce stepped into the stall. As he pulled the curtain closed, he heard Bill call, “Glad ta hear it.” Then Bill’s voice lowered, turning mean. “Can’t wait to get a shot at knockin’ out a butt-muncher like you.”

  Gritting his teeth, Pierce hung up his
towel and pulled out his soap. As he washed, he thought about reporting Bill’s comment to Anthony. Pierce didn’t advertise the fact that he was gay, and neither did the gym owner.

  Pierce knew Anthony swung his way because he’d noticed the way the guy had sprung a boner while watching him change in the locker room once. Thinking the gym owner pretty fine, he’d offered to share a little fun. That had been three years before, and every once in a while, they hooked up for some mutual satisfaction.

  Over the years, Pierce had created a number of similar deals with guys in and around town. None of them were interested in a relationship. Besides, even if they were, Pierce had no delusions that one of them would want to deal with Pierce’s issues permanently.

  While Pierce could learn just about anything, it took him longer. School had been brutal. Not only did he have the stigma of being a dumb jock with dyslexia, but he also had to overcome slight brain damage caused by his mother doing drugs while she was pregnant.

  Good thing my father is such a kind and patient man.

  Although he still worries about why I choose to be punched on a regular basis.

  Finishing his shower, Pierce decided to give a friendly warning to Anthony. His fuck-buddy deserved to know that some of his customers were homophobes. He knew his friend was deep in the closet. Anthony didn’t want his sexual orientation to impact his business.

  Pierce dried swiftly, then slung the damp towel back around his waist. Carrying his shower supplies, he returned to his locker. He spotted Anthony waiting for him, a clipboard in hand.

  “I filled out everything for you, so you just need to sign the bottom,” Anthony told him softly after a glance around. “Figured it’d be easier for you.”

  Smiling in appreciation, Pierce murmured, “Thanks, Anth.” Then he swept his gaze over the space, too, before opening his locker. Lowering his voice further, he whispered, “Wanted to warn you. Bill is a homophobe.” Seeing the way Anthony’s brows shot up in obvious question, Pierce added, “He’s said some shit to me.”

  Anthony’s face paled a little. “How the hell would he even know about you?”

  Pierce shrugged his wide shoulders. “No idea.” The gym had been his safe place, but that seemed to be changing. “Just thought I’d give you a heads up.”

  Taking the clipboard, Pierce stared at the form on it. He took in the lines that formed boxes and the letters that were supposed to be words. Pierce took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  The more worked up he was, the harder it was for him to comprehend what he was seeing.

  “You just need to sign here.” Anthony pointed near the bottom.

  Pierce nodded as he settled on one of the wooden benches that ran the length of the locker bay. Resting the clipboard on his thighs, he placed the tip of the pen where Anthony had indicated. After another calming breath, Pierce painstakingly wrote his name.

  He took another few minutes to work out most of the words on the form. As much as he trusted Anthony, he didn’t want to be too dependent on him. After confirming where he needed to be and when, he handed the pen and board back to Anthony.

  “Thanks, Anth.” Pierce stood and grabbed his clean clothes from his locker. “I think I’m gonna go for a run.”

  Anthony’s snort drew Pierce’s attention to his friend’s grinning face. “You just showered, and you’re gonna go work out some more?”

  Pierce shrugged.

  “You could have just run on the treadmill,” Anthony pointed out, using a thumb to point over his shoulder.

  “Naw,” Pierce told him. “Not that kind of run.” Grinning, he pulled his jeans on underneath his towel. Then he dropped the damp fabric as he zipped and buttoned. “Ready to get out in nature and get some fresh air.”

  After another nod, Anthony turned and waved the clipboard. “Have fun.”

  Pierce grunted in acknowledgment as he pulled his gray wife-beater over his head. After pulling on his socks and shoes, he picked up his bag and headed out of the gym. Feeling the warm sun’s rays on his cheeks coupled with the cool spring breeze, he grinned.

  Yeah. Nature it is.

  Opening his soft-top’s door, Pierce climbed into his Jeep. He tossed his bag into the back and shut the door. Firing up the engine, he headed north.

  Even though Pierce had just worked his arms on the bag, he still felt energized. He always seemed to have an excess of energy. The physical activity acted as a release for that, otherwise he would never get any sleep. He’d struggled with that as a kid, since school forced him to sit in a chair and listen to a teacher drone on and on for hours at a time—then the time spent doing homework.

  Dismissing a past he had no ability to change, Pierce turned his Jeep onto a county road leading into the hills. He thought it was a little ironic that he’d ended up a receptionist for the town’s police station. Sheriff Stillwell was understanding however, and he had bought Pierce a desk that he could raise and lower, allowing him to stand while doing his work.

  The sheriff didn’t even mind that Pierce danced while working. The man smiled or chuckled occasionally, but the noise was never malicious. He said as long as the work was done correctly, Pierce could do it however he wanted.

  Finding the little-used trailhead he wanted, Pierce turned onto it. He parked, noticing a number of motorcycles in the lot. Peering over them, he wondered what it would feel like to ride on one. Pierce had a soft-top Jeep with roll-bars, and he figured it would feel similar to when he removed the canvas.

  With that thought, another bounced through Pierce’s mind. It was almost warm enough to do just that.

  Maybe when I get home.

  Oh, I should check the forecast, first.

  After slipping from his vehicle, Pierce reached in and grabbed a light jacket from the back. He tied the arms around his waist, then shut the door. Since it was a little cooler in the hills, he wanted it just in case.

  “Oh. And water and a couple of granola bars,” Pierce reminded himself. He rounded his vehicle and opened the passenger door. After snagging a satchel from the floorboard, he grabbed the granola bars from the glove box and a couple bottles of water from the case of them he kept in the back. “And we’re ready.”

  Pierce figured a shrink would have a field day with the fact that he talked to himself, but he didn’t give a shit.

  Heading up the trail, Pierce swung his arms, stretching his shoulders, biceps, and triceps as he started his hike. He hadn’t gone far when he realized he heard voices. Figuring it was the guys who had been on the motorcycles, Pierce glanced around with interest.

  When Pierce rounded the next bend, he noticed a flash of yellow between two trees to his right. He paused and squinted, peering into the gloom. It took him a second, but he realized someone was over there.

  Pierce glanced at the trail, nibbling his bottom lip. The rules of hiking were to stay on the trail, but he knew a lot of people had picnics, too. Just as he turned, deciding it was none of his business, Pierce saw a face between the branches... and it was someone he knew.

  “Deputy Anderson,” Pierce murmured, heading in that direction. The man, Marrakesh Anderson—Mac to his friends—had recently retired when he’d found the love of his life in a cute twinky guy named Deter. Pierce had thought they’d left the area.

  Is that really him?

  Lifting a branch, Pierce eased through a break in the trees. “Hey, Deputy Anderson,” he called, grinning at the man. When the guy turned, Pierce lifted his hand in greeting as he moved into the clearing. “Hi, there! I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  Deputy Anderson’s eyes widened, and his lips parted, his surprise etched over his features. “Pierce.” He darted his gaze around the area as he strode toward him. “Hey, man. How are you?”

  Pierce opened his mouth to answer, but an odd popping and cracking sound drew his attention. Focusing left, he gaped as he stumbled backward a step. There... right before his eyes... was the oddest damn thing he’d ev
er seen.

  “Th-There was a zebra... and now he’s a man!”

  Lifting his hands in placation, Deputy Anderson stepped before him, blocking his view of the naked, blushing male. “Pierce, just calm down. Take a breath.” He rested his hands on Pierce’s shoulders and squeezed lightly. “I can explain.”

  Staring at his ex-co-worker, Pierce cried, “How the hell can you explain that?”

  Chapter Two

  “Well, this is awkward,” Daevon Ferdmin commented mildly as he watched Mac try to soothe a huge, clearly shocked human. Lifting a brow, he turned his attention to Diego, who was holding a blushing Zachary. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

  Daevon didn’t know the group well. He’d only arrived in town less than a week before. The group of shifters were waiting for their alpha—as well as the rest of their pack—to return from an emergency trip overseas.

  Waiting for Alpha Kontra and the others to arrive, Daevon had agreed to go running with the remaining shifters in the pack.

  “No,” Diego replied as he rubbed his hand up and down Zachary’s back. Dipping his head, he whispered, “Grab your jeans and stop worrying about this. Mac will handle his friend.”

  Turning his attention back toward the big human, Daevon dismissed Zach’s naked limping form as he went to retrieve his clothes. Diego followed him. Daevon bet the wolf shifter would help his zebra shifter mate dress in record time.

  Instead, Daevon admired the handsome human who’d interrupted their outing. He stood a good half-foot taller than his own five-foot-nine stature, and with his hair shorn so close to his skull, Daevon wasn’t entirely certain how dark a blond it was. The man—Pierce, according to Mac—had wide shoulders, brawny arms and legs, and an eight-pack on display under his gray wife-beater t-shirt.