Unraveling Midnight by Stephanie Beck
Lyrical Press, Inc. www.lyricalpress.com
Copyright ©2011 by Stephanie Beck First published in 2012, 2012 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.
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Unraveling Midnight by Stephanie Beck
CONTENTS Highlight Unraveling Midnight Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 About Stephanie Beck ****
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Unraveling Midnight by Stephanie Beck
Back Cover Copy An entanglement with a werewolf brings unexpected turns. Scott, a lone werewolf expelled from his pack, bends over backward to give his kids everything he can—including knitting lessons for his daughter. Learning to knit becomes much more appealing with Lucy Jamieson as the teacher. His heightened senses tell him the compassionate and beautiful human might be what he and his little band need, yet getting involved with Lucy means exposing her to his paranormal reality. Although Lucy's childhood skewed her expectations of family, she recognizes and respects Scott's desire to protect and provide for his kids. When Scott is hit by a truck, Lucy offers to help with the kids—and gets more than she bargained for after learning Scott's true nature...
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Highlight "Oh my gosh." Scott froze. Wolf or not, there was no denying the man in him, and the man had heard his female freak out. He turned slowly, trying to be calm and comforting so she wouldn't panic. Lucy stood on her feet, her lovely sleep expression replaced with terror. The early morning light made it especially easy to see her exact features. His calm, patient Lucy was at the end of her rope. "Scott? No. A dog," she muttered to herself more than actually addressing him, and he realized she must have seen or felt him change instead of assuming he'd left and a dog had entered the house. "You have to be a dog. You can't be Scott. That's not possible." He shifted again, grabbing the blanket the second he had hands again. He always shredded his clothes when he shifted, but hadn't thought of that in his fevered delirium. The last thing Lucy needed was to be alone with a strange, naked wolf-man. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh." She repeated herself, moving away from him as much as the little room allowed. "What the heck are you?" [Back to Table of Contents]
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Unraveling Midnight by Stephanie Beck
Unraveling Midnight By Stephanie Beck [Back to Table of Contents]
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Unraveling Midnight by Stephanie Beck
Unraveling Midnight 9781616503437 Copyright © 2012, Stephanie Beck Edited by Dianne B Book design by Lyrical Press, Inc. Cover Art by Renee Rocco First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: January 2012 Lyrical Press, Incorporated www.lyricalpress.com eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. PUBLISHER'S NOTE: This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content. Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated [Back to Table of Contents] 7
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Dedication For Pam and Kelly, my clicking sisters. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 1 Scott's boys were going to be the death of him. He looked at the two young males rolling around the grass in a tangle of arms and legs. At least they were outside this time. He'd thought dealing with twins when they were infants was difficult. It turned out he'd only gotten a taste of hell in those years of bottles and diapers. "All right, boys, get up. I want you running down to the trees and back a dozen times." They groaned, but got to their feet. Ross and Greg were twelve and so near to puberty they reeked of the horrid promise. Mood swings, temper flares, and the almighty shifting time approached at a breakneck speed without apology. Their scents pledged within the next two years there were going to be major changes in his household dynamics. Scott wasn't ready. "I bet I can run it twenty times," Greg said, kicking his shoes off. "I can run it twenty-five," Ross challenged. "Then do it," Scott ordered and watched them take off. He blew out a sigh of relief. Maybe the monsters would get to sleep at a decent hour. If he wore them out, they were good little pups after dinner. If they were full of energy, things in the house started to get broken from all the roughhousing. But that's the way things were when there were two adolescent werewolves under one roof. He now understood 9
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why his mother had gotten rid of all the furniture in the basement and had given him and his brothers mattresses. Even those had gotten torn up on occasion during wolf play or even screwing around as humans. Things had to be different in his house though, because it wasn't only him and the boys. Scott turned and found the sweetness in his life. Jessie. Completely innocent and only six years old, she didn't deserve to live in an older-brother-proofed house. Scott did his best to wear them all out so she could have at least a little peace at home. He frowned when he realized she was sitting on a bench with an adult. Usually his daughter was very reserved with other people, so he didn't worry about her talking to strangers. Being a werewolf led to a certain amount of caution in the young ones. They were taught early to hide their secret from strangers and to also be wary of outsiders. Scott found the scent of the adult. A female human, nonthreatening, but then no one seemed threatening until they did something horrible. Like his former mate. Just the thought of what Tiffany had done to the kids put Scott's feet in motion. No one was going to get a chance to hurt his little girl and even if the human was innocent, it was up to him to decide, not Jessie. **** "What are you doing?" Lucy turned and smiled when she found a pretty little girl had snuck up on her. She was dirty, her pigtails were crooked 10
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and she was missing three teeth. She looked exactly how a happy, healthy child in the summer should. "I'm knitting," Lucy replied. "What are you doing?" The child scratched at a scab on her elbow. "Playing. My daddy is running the boys and I was building a sand castle, but the sand in the sandbox isn't wet enough and I didn't bring my water bottle." "Oh." Lucy pulled out a bottle of water from her lunch bag. "Here you go, honey. You can use this if you'd like." "My name isn't honey," she said, accepting the water bottle. "I'm Jessie." "It's nice to meet you, Jessie. I'm Lucy." Jessie wrinkled her nose. "That's a grandma name." She laughed. "Oh? Says who?" "My daddy. My mom wanted to name me Lucy but Dad says that's an old fuddy duddy name like Martha." Lucy laughed again. "Well, I guess it does have a certain old-school flare to it. Jessie does too. I had a grandma named Jessie." "Really? I had a grandma Sophie but she died and my other grandma June kicked us out 'cause she thinks we're all evil." Immediately the little girl locked her lips shut and blushed. "I'm not supposed to talk about that." Lucy smiled. "Don't worry about it, Jessie. I've already forgotten." She'd gotten the chance to have her niece and nephew for a month while her sister concentrated on school, so she'd learned all about oversharing information and dealing with it. 11
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There was no use in making the child feel self-conscious. Sometimes they needed to say things and move on. "Okay. What are you making?" Jessie asked, back to smiling. "Today it's socks." She reached in her knitting tote. "Here is the first one and I'm half done with the second." "No way." Jessie's eyes widened as she looked at the sock. "You actually made this with just string?" "Well, yarn and four needles." "Jessie." The sharp tone made Lucy wince, but Jessie didn't seem to notice she'd done something wrong. "Hi, Daddy. This is Lucy. She made a sock!" Jessie's daddy didn't look too happy and Lucy tried to put on a friendly face. However besides unhappy, he also looked threatening. Deep scars on his cheeks spoke of past violence and his shortly buzzed hair didn't provide any relief from the harshness of his features. Every part of him said he was not only willing, but happy, to kick ass if needed. If Jessie hadn't called him 'daddy', Lucy wasn't sure if she'd have been able to get past his huge size to even offer a smile. "Are you supposed to bother strangers, Jessie?" her father asked. "She's not a stranger. She's Lucy and she makes stuff. Can you teach me to make this, Daddy?" Lucy bit back a smile when the big, threatening man simply pinched the bridge of his nose. She couldn't hear him, but his lips moved as if he were counting to ten. Scary or not, 12
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this man was doing his best to live up to the 'daddy' title and, to Lucy, that made him more approachable. "We've been visiting." Lucy offered her hand, hoping to cross the stranger-and-acquaintance gap. "I'm Lucy Jamieson. I own the yarn shop across the park over there." He tentatively accepted her hand, eyeing it first like it was unexpected and maybe it was. For sure she'd bet his size and threatening features made for few random introductions. She'd also noticed over the month with the kids that adults at parks didn't interact much. They weren't out to make friends like the kids were. Lucy didn't see why they couldn't at least be friendly. "Scott Terwolf. Thanks for entertaining her but, Jessie, you need to go play while we're here." "Oh." The smile on Jessie's face fell and, though Lucy knew her dad wasn't intentionally being abrupt or mean, he'd popped her friendly balloon. "Okay. Thanks for talking to me, Lucy." "You're welcome, honey. Have fun with your sandcastle. Don't forget the bottle." Jessie's shy smile was a comfort after the abrupt change in plans, and when she grabbed the water bottle before running to the sandbox, Lucy knew the little one wasn't too upset. Beside her, Scott remained. She didn't have to look up because his large shadow made him known. "The bottle was a fresh one, unopened, if you're worried," Lucy said, tucking the green sock Jessie had left on the bench back in her bag. "Not that I think she's going to drink it. I believe it's going to be more of a glue for the sand." 13
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She looked out at Jessie instead of turning to Scott, expecting him to walk away like so many other parents did. They might visit for a moment, but during the spring when they'd found out she was aunt to kids who were leaving soon, making a connection didn't make sense for them. And now she was some childless lady sitting in the park with her knitting. Oh well, it was a beautiful day. She'd wanted to be outside for a while and she adored listening to the happy kids. "I'm sorry for being rude." She turned and found Scott sitting on the far side of the bench. But not too far. He wasn't a small man and took a good portion of the space, yet managed not to be too invading. "You weren't rude," Lucy said and added a smile. "Just a daddy watching out for his daughter and I do understand the stranger issue needs to be reinforced often, especially at Jessie's age. Are those your sons over there?" He turned and a grin came to his face. She'd been watching the boys play and roughhouse. "Yep. I'm hoping if they get some energy out we might actually be able to watch a movie or something quiet tonight." He sounded exhausted and Lucy laughed. "That sounds like a nice way to spend the evening. Though, well, good luck." She winced when one of the boys tripped the other and they started tussling again. Scott's head whipped around and he let out a long, low whistle. The boys immediately perked up and got back to running. 14
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"Great trick," she said, impressed. "They must have fantastic hearing." His speed when he turned was a little disconcerting. "Yes, they do. It's a family thing. So you own the knitting shop? Do you have classes or anything?" Surprised by the quick change in subject, Lucy paused a moment to collect her thoughts. "Ah, yes. I host weekly beginner classes as well as more advanced ones." She grinned, remembering Jessie's request. "Should I keep an eye out for you in the next few weeks?" He laughed a little, but she knew when men thought knitting was ridiculous, and Scott was a long way from scoffing. "Actually, it's not very often Jessie finds something to light up about. We end up doing a lot of boy stuff and sports, so if she wants to try this, I wouldn't mind picking up the sticks." "Needles," she corrected, more automatic than anything, but really she was charmed by his confession and willingness to make his daughter smile. "You know what? If you two come for class, I'll teach you all the important terms. We probably won't start with socks, but I think we could have you two knitting scarves by Christmastime." "Lucy? Is that you sitting over there?" Lucy shot Scott an apologetic smile before turning to the new voice. "Hi, Mrs. Kimmes. You look nice today." The older woman always looked interesting. Lucy hoped she could pull off 'interesting' when she was older. Mrs. Kimmes wore a green skirt, purple knit top and bright pink lipstick. It all did kind of go all together with the mop of white 15
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curls on her head. A regular at the shop, the kind woman had gone out of her way to make Lucy's day often since she'd learned Lucy had lost her grandmother. "Thank you, dear." Mrs. Kimmes stopped her powder pink scooter beside the bench. "And who is this handsome fellow sitting beside you like a giant lump of yummy?" Ah, to be so free with words. Luckily, Lucy had known the older woman for three years and Mrs. Kimmes's mouth no longer surprised her. "This is Scott. We were discussing knitting lessons for him and his daughter." "Both of them, huh?" The older woman's drawn-on eyebrows rose high. "Well, that's a newfangled thing. You don't look like one of those glittery men knitters, so I suppose you're just being nice. I like that. You won't find a better teacher than Lucy here. She's a good one. Why, she even took on an old hooker like me and made a full conversion." Lucy was proud Scott didn't even wince at the old girl's announcement. He was a good sport and she supposed with all the kids, off the wall announcements weren't new. "Oh, well I need to go. I'm meeting Wanda Fisher for lunch. Take care, Lucy, and you, young man, I know we've just met, but if you've got a mind to make eyes at this fine young woman, I suggest you not forget the roses. Too many young men these days go straight for the—" "Mrs. Kimmes!" The older woman smirked. "Oh, she's a bit of a prude too, but a nicer woman you'll never meet. I'm off. You two behave." 16
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And like she hadn't come from nowhere to embarrass the heck out of Lucy, Mrs. Kimmes scooted away. Left once more with Scott, Lucy wasn't sure if she hoped he would walk away or if she wanted to have a chance to explain at least some of what the crazy woman had said. "Hookers, huh?" "Yeah, I didn't think you'd miss that one," Lucy said and tried not to blush. "She meant she used to only crochet. It's a kind of yarn work done with a single hook—which leads to those who enjoy crocheting being referred to as—" "Hookers." He grinned. "I bet the old girl likes that. And the other? If I do sign up for class, do I need to bring roses?" She'd bet hundreds of women had thrown themselves at him over his smile alone. Jessie hadn't mentioned a mother and Scott didn't wear a ring, so she assumed he was single. She couldn't be sure though. "Hmm, no roses necessary for the first class," she said, indulging in a slightly flirty tone and hoping he would come to class so she could learn more about him. If nothing else, he was interesting to talk with and his daughter was adorable. She'd bet they'd both be pleasant company. "I don't suppose you've got a card or something?" "I can do you one better," she said and dug around the pocket of her knitting tote. "Here's a flyer with the beginners classes listed and you can come whenever. I have all the supplies and the starter kit I put together is really inexpensive, so if it doesn't click for you two, you won't be out more than ten dollars and a little time." 17
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He accepted the flyer, looked it over and tucked it in his pocket. "I'll call soon." Across the field, the boys started fighting. "Oh, uh oh—" "I think it's time to head home. Thanks again for being kind to Jessie and I'll be in contact soon." He was up and gone in a flash, his speed shocking, but then, he was a dad and his boys were fighting. Jessie perked up for a second and followed and Lucy wondered if he'd whistled again. The move seemed a bit Von Trapp but it obviously worked. Lucy checked her watch and sighed before tucking her yarn away. Lunch break was over and the yarn shop wasn't going to run itself, no matter how nice it was outside. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 2 They were sleeping—all three of them. Scott sat at the dining room table and winced when his elbow landed in syrup. It had been Ross and Greg's turn to clean up after dinner, which usually meant he had to re-clean. If he'd been thinking, he would have grabbed a rag before sitting, but he was tired. Hell, he'd been exhausted for the past six months. Ever since he'd been forced to leave the protection of his pack, he'd been on guard. For thirty-five years he'd lived with his packmates always at his back, ready to help, but now he was alone except for his kids. It was for the best. His mate had tried to kill Jessie one night. She'd nearly killed the boys too when they interfered. The best they could figure, something inside Tiffany's head had snapped. After the incident, Scott's alpha had asked him to leave the pack and take the children in case whatever had broken in Tiffany had transferred to them. Obviously she had to be crazy. Weres didn't turn on their babies, ever, and he didn't blame the others for being cautious. That didn't mean his kids had problems, though. He couldn't believe that and wouldn't until they showed concrete signs of having issues. They weren't in danger or on the run, but the day-to-day life of parenting three pups alone on top of working security full-time wore him down. It was hard being in a new city as well, but he hoped in a few years they could join the pack in Haven, Pennsylvania. He'd spoken with the alpha and was 19
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sure they'd make something work eventually. Good days like today made the other ones bearable. He had at least fifteen years to go before the kids were on their own. "Daddy?" And then there was Jessie. She'd been a surprise after the boys. Tiffany had been sure the little one was a male, even though Scott and everyone else had smelled right off the pup was female. Tiffany had never warmed up to the little girl, though Scott had never understood why. She was beautiful, bright and even as a newborn she'd been incredibly engaging. Maybe because Jessie was everything Tiffany wasn't, the older female had felt threatened. "What's the matter, baby?" he asked, watching as she rubbed her eyes. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts. She had a drawer full of pajamas, but at bedtime, especially after she had baths, she always raided his dresser. It was a scent thing he'd noticed with all the kids, and he'd accepted that he spent more on T-shirts than necessary. "Are we going to go knitting together?" She climbed on his lap. He fought his wince. The day with the boys had jarred his already-damaged back. The fight with the rogue werewolf Tiffany had aligned herself with had left him in bad shape. He'd had to seek help from a human doctor and he'd been told he was lucky to have use of his legs. They'd reinforced the bones in his back to prevent further injury but the bolts sometimes made him ache. "Sorry, Daddy. I hope I didn't hurt you." Jessie was so astute, so in tune with the people around her. Scott 20
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sometimes worried she felt too deeply. He didn't want to ever think of his daughter being hurt by others who didn't respect her feelings. "Nope, I'm aching a little bit, but you know the best medicine for that is time with my Jessie." He wouldn't be a father again, wouldn't hold a newborn of his own flesh again, so moments like this, when Jessie was soft and cuddly, were ones he cherished. "And a hot bath would help too," Jessie said, all practicality. "Do you think we'll be able to knit, Dad? I really liked Lucy and I want to make you socks." "She gave me her class schedule and said she'd teach us. I looked it up on the internet and you might be a little young, but we can sure try it. If the knitting doesn't quite work, I read about a few other yarn crafts Lucy will probably be able to help with." "You won't mind being the only daddy there?" she asked timidly and he remembered the girls' group they'd attended earlier in the summer. He'd been the only dad and the moms had been vicious. Between cutting down the other families, they'd been trying to get in his pants. Jessie had asked to stop going to the program before he'd insisted, but she'd been missing their quieter times together while the boys were at sports. "I won't mind, honey," he promised. "I really liked Lucy." "About that, Jess, you know you can't go up to strangers like you did today. I know she's human and smelled okay, but we need to be more careful." 21
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Jessie sighed. "She didn't just smell okay, Daddy." "What do you mean?" "She smelled perfect," Jessie said, so wistful it made Scott's heart ache. "Perfect?" "You know." She rubbed her nose to his neck like pups did to get scents back as well as a sign of affection. "None of the ugly smells were on her." Ugly smells to Jessie were anything aggressive. After so long with her mother, she'd come to recognize anger and aggression as things to dread and hide from. He watched his temper carefully around his daughter so as not to invoke bad memories. It wasn't always possible, but even the boys did their best to not actively get angry around Jessie. She wasn't timid or fearful, at least she wasn't now, and all of them wanted her to grow more comfortable and confident. Anger and aggression were parts of their lives, but they weren't things Jessie needed constant reminders of. "Didn't you notice, Daddy? She smelled like yarn and sunshine." As he thought about it, he realized the pretty yarn shop lady had smelled good. She'd been cute too, but he'd been too distracted by the kids to really appreciate her features and scent. He had the vague impression of red hair and maybe freckles. He'd have to pay more attention at their class. If Jessie had taken such a notice, he wanted to make sure his daughter interpereted the details correctly.
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"I did notice, now that you mention it. I'll check her more when we go to class. For now, you need to get to bed, little girl. You've got summer classes in the morning." She sighed and slid off his lap. "I wish you had the summers off too, Daddy. That would be awesome." He smiled. "Me too, honey. Maybe one day." She shook her head. "With three kids? Sorry, Daddy, I'm pretty sure you'll be working summers for a long time." Scott bit back a chuckle and when Jessie's door closed, he stood and grabbed a rag. Tired or not, things had to be done, but after his talk with his daughter, the fatigue didn't drag at him as much. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 3 "Okay, guys, let's cast on. Remember, all you need is the yarn and a single needle for this." Scott smiled at his daughter, who immediately followed Lucy's very concise, simple instructions with her pink yarn and stick. He liked his blue yarn, but strongly doubted he was going to be able to make it do what his six-year-old was. "Like this, Daddy." Jessie held her hand just as Lucy had and slowly showed him the steps of casting the yarn on the needle. "Nice and slow, see?" He tried, fumbling the yarn horribly before finally getting a second loop to stay on the needle. Jessie smiled. "Good job. Now do it again." "How's it going over here?" Scott looked up at Lucy and was nailed by the scent Jessie had spoken so fondly of. Everyone Scott had ever met was a mix of scents. Anger, aggression, happiness, sadness and all the rest seemed to intermingle on people. There was a difference from someone who was basically content and happy in their life and those who were genuinely sad. It wasn't often something so pure hit his nose. In addition to looking the part of a teacher, with soft red curls and a slight sprinkling of freckles on her nose, Lucy smelled the part, with patience and joy. The heady combination had made him stutter more than once since they'd entered the yarn shop. 24
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"My daddy isn't quite getting it, Miss Lucy," Jessie explained, her yarn already cast on the appropriate amount of stitches. "He tries really hard, but I think his big fingers get in the way." "That might be it," Lucy said seriously, yet when she took the seat beside Scott, he saw the humor in her eyes. "Sometimes it takes a few more tries. Here, try it with me." She touched him and Scott was a goner. Werewolf senses were fantastically better than humans' and touch was no different. She felt as pure and sweet as she smelled and he had to brace his feet to stay in his seat. The other options were to fall out of his chair or jump her. Neither was going to happen, especially in front of his daughter and two other students. "See, like this. Sometimes it's difficult to get a feel for tension from the start, but I think we can at least get you on." Something was on all right, but he controlled himself, schooling his expression to passivity and concentration. Beside him, Jessie looked on intently, her innocent concern for his knitting skills helping him rein in his libido. It had been years since he'd wanted a woman. He'd wanted Tiffany, because she was his mate and they were monogamous. She was the only option. However, after Jessie was born, being sexual with Tiffany had become a last resort when his freaking horny werewolf would take over and finally give in to the temptation she presented. Such a crazy bitch. If he'd met Lucy first, he would never have looked twice at Tiffany. And after Tiffany, he could 25
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truly appreciate the peace of Lucy, but being burned so brutally also made him cautious. "There, you got it," the woman playing hell on his body said. "Now, take it all off and try again." "Practice will help," Jessie added. "Miss Lucy, can you help me start my second row?" "Sure, Jessie. Let me sit between you and your dad so I can help you both for a few minutes before helping the others." Taking off the stitches sounded like a horrible idea, but Scott did it anyway, clumsily fussing with the yarn again until, uneven and ugly, it was back on the stick. Lucy helped Jessie, like he'd wanted, and left him to his stumbling. The teaching moment gave him more time to stare and smell her. No viciousness, no jealousy or discontent. He took a deep breath and bit back a sigh of contentment that would have filled the room. Better than having her beside him was being in her space. Even with the other humans and their muddled fragrances, the essence of Lucy surrounded him. The yarn must have absorbed pieces of her just being in her presence. Lucky yarn and buttons and doodads. "Well, it's a good start." Scott smiled when he found Lucy looking at his work. He could have tried harder, he was sure, but she didn't know him well enough to know that. "Jessie will help you," Lucy added. "I'm thinking this might take a few more classes," he admitted. 26
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She smiled. "You're in luck, we have them every week. I need to go help Susan and her mother. You two keep casting on." When Scott led Jessie out of the yarn shop an hour later, he did so with heavy feet. His body didn't want to leave, his wolf sure as hell didn't want to leave, but it was time to pick up the boys from football. Usually werewolves didn't play school sports. Since they were still young and had a few years before their change, he thought it was safe. Their coach liked their intensity and there hadn't been any problems yet. "That was fun, Daddy. Can we go again next week?" "Absolutely. I'll even practice so I can get to the next row thing." She patted his hand. "It's okay, Daddy. Miss Lucy said you'd learn quickly once you got the hang of your tension. Tension can't really be taught, it has to be practiced." Already quoting from the woman. That made sense, though. Lucy was the kind of woman Jessie had been missing in her life. A good teacher was a valuable thing and he'd happily pay the small fee for knitting class as long as Jessie wanted to go. He also wouldn't mind seeing Lucy again. Finding a new mate hadn't crossed his mind, not until he'd stepped into Lucy's shop and he was slammed in the groin with lust. Exploring what could be with the pretty shop owner might be something he could make time to do. "Can I maybe buy some of my own yarn next time?" Jessie asked. "Some of the stuff in there is really pretty." "You bet, darling." 27
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"And I don't want the boys to get it either," she said. "Can you tell them not to use it like a bunch of cats?" Scott laughed, thoughts of Lucy evaporating. "You got it, sweetheart. I'll talk to the boys especially about this. No catplay with your new yarn." She hugged his side before they made it to the truck. "Thanks, Daddy. You're the best." **** With 'best' in mind, Scott stopped by the yarn shop the next afternoon. He usually had an hour between finishing work and picking up the kids from summer school. He used the time for grocery shopping and running errands. After the knitting class, while Jessie was in the shower, Ross had gotten into Jessie's yarn before Scott had a chance to warn him away from the stash. His little girl had cried when the simple cotton yarn proved tangled beyond repair. Ross had tried his hardest to put it to rights, but like any young wolf, he'd gotten carried away the first time and it hadn't been possible. So now, with Ross's allowance in his pocket, Scott was going to get Jessie new yarn and help his son make amends. His rambunctious boys loved their sister and went out of their way to make her happy. "Well, hello there, Scott." He'd scented her the moment he walked in and noticed her footsteps as well, but hearing her acknowledge him with such pleasure in her voice was a beautiful thing. He wanted to lay down with his head in her lap and have her scratch his sweet 28
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spot, right behind his ear. Or rub his belly. He wasn't too proud for a damn belly rub, not if he could have it from Lucy. Of course, the rubbing would be mutual. Lucy came from behind a shelf full of yarn, looking as cute and cozy as the night before. "Scott? Are you okay?" He was staring. "Ah, yeah. How are you today?" The honey scent he'd been swamped in when he entered was replaced by a sadness so intense he felt weak. It was so pure. Not bitter or selfish, just completely sad. "I'm okay," she replied, though her smile appeared strained. "Can I help you with something?" He closed the distance between them. The night before she'd been on his mind. Her laughter, her smile, the charming cluster of freckles on the swell of her left breast. Those things had kept him awake long after he should have been asleep. Seeing her smiling face had been his mission of the day, but a new job was presented. He stepped closer and though he knew he probably crowded her, he had to do something about the way she felt. "What's the matter? Is something wrong?" She didn't step away and part of him rejoiced even as his wolf was still upset over her being so unhappy. "Well, I'm sorry it's so obvious. I'm not really that upset, but today is sort of a sad one for me." She stopped. "Why?" "Um." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, hesitating a long moment. "Today is an anniversary for me. Three years ago today my husband was killed." "Husband?" 29
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"Yeah. He was my high school sweetheart. Brad went into the military right after we graduated. We got married before he left to make things easier and we were very happy together. He was gone a lot. I was in business school and we wrote each other all the time. He was deployed to Afghanistan and ... he didn't come back. Well, he came back, but it wasn't the way I'd hoped." She wasn't crying, hadn't shed a tear, yet her sorrow was palpable to him. When his arms reached toward her of their own accord, he let them, engulfing her in a hug. He hadn't grown up in a demonstrative family, but werewolves were affectionate by nature. They needed to feel accepted and protected. He knew things in the human world weren't always the same, but down to his toes he thought Lucy would appreciate the hug for what it was—comfort when there simply were no words to soothe the pain. Her arms looped around his waist and, like she was as comfortable with him as he was with her, she rested her cheek against his chest. "Oh, it was several years ago now, Scott. I appreciate the hug very much, but I'm really okay. It's the kind of sad that comes and goes, but is more nostalgic than anything else." "It still hurts you," he muttered, breathing in the clean scent of her hair. Her trust in him warmed his heart and the curiosity and facination he'd been feeling for her turned deeper. She laughed a little and, though he didn't want to, he let her pull out of his arms. She lightly wiped away a tear, a smile on her face. "You and your daughter, very empathetic. 30
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Jessie asked me last night why I was sad, but I managed to distract her with purling. Now, what can I do for you, Scott? I'm sure you had a reason for coming in." The mess of yarn he'd thrown away came to mind. "Yes, I did have a reason. Jessie's yarn was ruined last night by one of her brothers. He asked me to come pick something new out for her." "Aw, what a sweet brother to try to fix his mistake." Lucy held her hand to her chest. For a young woman, she had a lot of gentle, old-fashioned mannerisms. "I have a nice wool blend that will be good for Jessie. Oh, and maybe a little carrying case for her so there aren't more accidents." Scott nodded and followed her deeper into the shop. It was a bit eclectic and, though things were clearly labeled with some semblance of organization present, Scott still figured people could get lost looking at and touching all the different colors and styles. He stopped at a case when he saw the same blue as Lucy's eyes. He picked up a skein. It was supple, but not nearly as soft as she'd felt in his arms. "You found my new favorites," Lucy said, suddenly beside him, reaching for a chocolate brown color. "I like this one best." She held it beside his face with a thoughtful expression. "You know, I think it's the same color as your eyes." He lifted his skein. "I was thinking the same thing." She blushed slightly and set aside the yarn. She didn't seem to mind the compliment, but he kicked himself. Flirting on the anniversary of her husband's death was probably not what she had planned for the day. Still, it pleased him 31
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mightily that she'd noticed the color of his eyes, and coincidence or not, it happened to be a shade she liked. "Um, what I had in mind is right back here," she said and he followed, trying to give her more room. She was sweet and he wanted to cuddle her, yet at the same time, he respected her and her feelings too much to crowd her if she didn't want it. He hadn't been rebuffed at all, but he hadn't been invited for more either. That didn't mean he wouldn't be. He grinned at her slim back. Well, not too slim. Tiffany had been a stickler about her weight and size. Lucy definitely had a softer side, her shoulders and arms in her knitted tank-top strong but also soft. Her waist was clearly defined under the purple top, and flared out very nicely to a generous bottom. He'd never defined himself as a male who saw value only in a single feminine attribute, but Lucy had all the makings of turning him into an ass man. No doubt her lovely backside would join her freckles and smile on his mind later. "Here it is." She didn't turn until after she said it and Scott was grateful he hadn't gotten caught ogling her bottom. "What color do you think Jessie would like?" Lucy asked. "Pink." Lucy smiled. "She is quite the girly girl, but if she's in a house full of boys, I can understand why. I lived with my grandmother and my foster brothers were always around. I probably overcompensated too." "Grandma, huh? Did she teach you about all of this?" He picked up a skein of bright pink yarn. 32
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"Yes, she did. It was always her dream to have a shop like this. She passed away the year after Brad and between the insurance from him and the small inheritance she left me, I decided to make a go of this place. She would have loved it and my only regret is not getting it started sooner so she could work with me here." He should have been used to getting hit by bricks around her, but Scott was floored by how genuine Lucy was. He wanted to know her whole story. What else had her grandmother taught her? What happened to the rest of her family? Did she like to sit on her male's lap and watch movies late at night while sharing ice cream? He hoped she wasn't a popcorn kind of girl. Popcorn dried out his mouth and proved an obstacle for other things. "Scott, are you okay? You seem really distracted today." Her beautiful eyebrows were drawn in concern and because he knew he couldn't kiss that wrinkle yet, he smoothed it with his thumb. "Don't worry about me. I'm just thinking, I guess." "About knitting?" "Well, kind of," he said. "I think this will work for Jessie." "I think you're right, Dad." Her reply made him feel ten feet tall. "And it's twenty percent off today, so Jessie's big brother won't break the bank on yarn." Scott laughed. "Charge him full price, please. It's good for him." "Well, I certainly can't do that in good conscience," she said and picked up a sparkly tote. "How about this for a case? I always found that the pinker and more glittery my things 33
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were, the less likely my foster brothers were to play with them." "Brilliant. You obviously know kids." "I watched my niece and nephew last month while my sister finished up her master's program at Penn State. I learned little things go a long way." He nodded. "Yep. Little kids, little problems. Well, usually. I did have to pry Jessie off of Ross's back last night after the yarn incident. She might be cute and small, but she's stronger than she looks." "I bet. Follow me again and I'll get you all rung up. Do you need anything else?" "You don't happen to have any magical tools to make it so I'm able to actually knit before the next class, do you?" She chuckled as she entered codes into her cash register. "Well, not really. You know what? I'm open late on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Stop in and I'll give you and Jessie some private lessons until you get the hang of it. How does that sound?" "Sounds like I'll owe you ice cream when we finish," he said, not offering a date, but while it sounded innocent enough, he hoped it at least planted a seed of interest. Subtlety wasn't usually a trait males had when it came to females. In fact, the plant analogy was horrible since werewolves weren't exactly known as farmers. He'd heard in Pennsylvania quite a few Weres actually made good livings off the land. The Pennsylvania air might be having a nurturing effect on him. Maybe if he joined the Haven pack he'd get a chance to 34
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learn about plants and making things grow. Getting a new appreciation for cows beyond enjoying them rare and wrapped in bacon might not be so bad either. "Well," she said, smiling as she slipped the yarn in the tote. "I am a fan of a chocolate cone from the shop down the street after a long day. I'm sure we could work something out." So, he hadn't been too forward and perhaps a seed would start to sprout. He handed over Ross's money and bit back his reply to tell her to keep the change. She wouldn't. "Thanks for helping me with this. I'll call before I bring Jessie to make sure we aren't overloading you," he said and paused as he slipped his wallet back in his pocket. Instead, he pulled one of his business cards from it. "Here's my number if you need to get ahold of me before we talk again." "Oh." She frowned at the card, but when she looked up, a twinkle of mischief sparkled in her eyes. "You mean, like if I have an ice cream emergency and can't possibly go by myself?" Sweet as brown sugar-dipped bacon and a sense of humor to match. Scott grinned. "I'm good in an ice cream emergency. Also, my height helps with cans on high shelves and, while I've got a ways to go in knitting, I can roll a ball of yarn like nobody's business." She laughed and tapped his card on her counter. "I will keep that in mind, Scott. I hope you have a really nice night." "Yeah," he said, wishing he had a hundred more reasons to stay in her presence. "You too, Lucy." [Back to Table of Contents] 35
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Chapter 4 They were being so good. Scott had been apologetic about bringing his sons along to knitting class, but she didn't see why he worried. They were wonderful. True, they'd adamantly decided not to learn to knit, but when she'd given them a pile of yarn to wind, they'd done it without complaint. In fact, the boys seemed charmed by the string, playing with it as if it were some kind of awesome video game instead of seconds she'd bought at a sale. "Boys, can I get you anything to drink?" she asked after she had Jessie started and the other mother-daughter team going. They looked to their father simultaneously and Lucy bit back a smile. Their manners were wonderful. They eventually nodded. "We can get it if you show us where, Miss Lucy," Greg said. "The cooler is behind my desk, so I'll be back in a moment. Juice boxes okay?" Excitement jumped in their eyes. Kids, so predictable. Even adults didn't pass up the treats. She ducked back in her office, peeking at her phone messages, relieved to find no one had called. She was hoping to take the next two days off and so far her assistant hadn't called in. Maggie was a wonderful knitter and usually very reliable, but summer 36
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allergies dragged her down. If she hadn't called by now, Lucy hoped that meant she was feeling well. With her hands full of juice boxes, she headed back to class, ready to tackle purling. Everyone was ready. Everyone except Scott, who seemed to have grown two left hands. She smiled. He sure tried hard, though. She'd always appreciated men who made up what they lacked in skill with enthusiasm. She mentally scolded herself. The man was in her shop for professional reasons and tonight he had his kids with him— thinking about what his hard, big hands might be better at was far from appropriate, but maybe it was okay to be a little wicked. He'd been so special when he'd visited the shop to buy Jessie yarn. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a hug from someone outside her family. It had been ages. She didn't think she presented herself as inaccessible to other people, yet men especially seemed to give her wider breadth. Maybe it was because of her slightly prissy nature. Brad hadn't minded, and, more, he'd taken the time to see she was as human as anyone else. Scott seemed to have that brand of curiosity and patience. She turned the corner to the main shop and he came into sight, his face already turned toward her like he'd heard her coming. Though a little thrill ran up her spine, she was careful to keep her expression warm. He didn't need to know how hot his lingering gazes made her. "Oh my." The kids she'd expected to find in chairs knitting had joined the boys on the floor, playing with yarn. They looked 37
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like a pack of kittens. All of Scott's children seemed fascinated by the yarn, but the fourth child, one of her regular customers' daughters, looked fascinated by the boys. "I think Susan's had enough," Carol said from her place beside Scott. She was forcing a smile, so Lucy brightened her own in case she'd put the other woman out in some way. "Is it okay if she plays while I pick out something new?" "Of course, Carol." Lucy offered a juice box to her as well. "And here is a little refreshment. One of these days we'll have to do margaritas or something." Carol laughed and accepted the drink. "Well, for now, this is very welcome. I'll be back by the wool if she's looking." Lucy brought the juice boxes to the kids, ready to help out with the straws if needed, but the boys absently fixed the boxes for the girls before doing their own. She shook her head, completely charmed, and returned to where Scott sat, still watching her. "You're feeling better today." His words weren't a question and once again his astuteness touched her. It was flattering and disconcerting to be read so well. "I do, thanks. Like I said, the sadness doesn't last long anymore." "Time is sometimes kind," he agreed. "I'm sorry your customer was miffed. I guess I could have been friendlier to her." Carol was a divorcee and an avid dater. Lucy had eyes and could plainly see Scott was the kind of man any woman with a wilder side might be willing to chase a bit, but she hoped 38
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Carol hadn't embarrassed herself. The other woman really was nice, just a bit sure of herself. "Well, this isn't elementary school, so I guess I won't send you to the corner or anything unless you spit on her shoe." Lucy fixed a juice box straw and handed the drink to Scott. "She's a big girl and I can't imagine you being rude." "Well." He hesitated and a flush crept up his neck. "I wouldn't admit to rude, but I could have been nicer." She looked at him a long minute and bit back her laugh. "You didn't ask if she was a hooker, did you?" The slight blush turned blazing red as he shrugged again. "I may have." She laughed out loud. "Oh, Scott." "She knew what I meant," he said, only moderately defensive. "Unfortunately she took it as a come-on. I had to set her straight because you're the only woman I've got intentions like that toward." Flutters, big ones, erupted in her stomach. Scott's words weren't planned, yet weren't quite awkward either. The blend made the flutters jump more. "Oh, well." She tucked the juice into his hand and smiled. "There, drink your juice. I'm sure it will sweeten you up for when you decide to get started on those intentions." He laughed and took a sip. "Aww, apple. My favorite. You don't mind the girls winding, do you? Jessie did all her knitting stuff and I think the other one got bored." "It's fine. They're being so good. I don't know why you were worried." She cast a glance to where the kids still played in the yarn. "They look like a bunch of kittens. I should invite 39
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you all over this fall and get a picture for my Christmas cards." Scott snorted and she smiled. Like all parents, he knew the other side of the kids, she was sure, and from their first meeting, she knew the boys weren't all yarn-balling and good manners. "If you want the picture, let me know, I'll run them all day like I did today and bribe them with ice cream." She laughed. "Okay, if I decide to call for a picture, I'll treat for the ice cream." They sat quietly a moment, Lucy watching the kids and absently drinking her juice. The chemistry between her and Scott was shockingly spot on. To the soles of her feet, she knew he'd be good for a snuggle on rainy days ... and a lot more as well. A guy with kids ... She'd never really considered that variable when she thought about dating again. Logically, a man in his late twenties or thirties could have children, but she had never quite put herself in that kind of mental equation before. And really, it was much too soon to even worry. Still, she didn't want to start something she didn't think she could finish if they got close. The boys took a break from rolling yarn and instead batted around the single strands Jessie and Susan held. "Oh cute. Now they're pretending to be kitties," she said. "I love that even though they're older they are still able to pretend and play."
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"Yeah, kitties," Scott said, derision in his tone. "I'd say they're more like puppies. Give a pack of pups a bag of yarn and they'll play all day." "I guess I hadn't thought of that." She turned to him. "Not a cat man?" He shook his head. "Not even slightly." "My grandma was allergic to pet dander so we didn't have either growing up. I guess I always thought a cat was more of a knitting pet, I just never got one." "Naw, who needs an uppity cat smelling up their pretty yarn?" he asked, his smile once again a thing of pure charm. "I think dogs are underrated in the knitting companion department." "If I ever decide to get a pet, I'll keep those things in mind. Do you guys have any animals at home?" She thought he smirked slightly at her question. "Not at this time. We moved a few months ago and, really, the house is crazy with those three. They don't always play so nice." "Daddy, is it time to get ice cream yet?" The boys still called Scott 'Daddy'—her heart fluttered. "Let's help Ms. Lucy get everything cleaned up and then we'll see if we can talk her into joining us." There was going to be no talking-into needed, but she didn't undermine his reward for the boys when it was so effective. The remaining yarn was wound in minutes, even the girls hurrying through to fill the basket. "Susan, time to go, honey. Lucy, I'll take these, please." 41
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Scott immediately stiffened beside her. Lucy patted his arm which had, in their moments sitting side by side, pressed to hers. "Oh, I love those colors. I'll be right back, Scott." She almost thought he would detain or follow her. His possessiveness hadn't been earned, but she didn't exactly hate the feeling she had around him. Not controlled, she thought, walking away and knowing his eyes were on her, more like protected. When was the last time anyone had looked out for her? Even though she would loosely label them friends, she wouldn't say much more, yet she knew they could be. "I feel like such an ass," Carol admitted at the register. "I had no idea you and Scott were an item. I should have figured it out by the way he looks at you, but I didn't and I apologize. I kind of hit on him. He shot me down like a lame duck. I'm sorry, Lucy." "Don't be," she said, though irrationally she really didn't like to hear another woman had tried to flirt with the man she was thinking of pursuing. "Scott and I are just friends." "'Just' isn't going to last long if that man has anything to say." Carol winked. "And good for you. A big, tough guy like him with all those kids would be perfect for a woman like you." "Like me?" "Oh, not a bad thing. You're so kind and patient. Women like you are rare and make the rest of us look like bitchy cows. It takes a special man to really appreciate that sweetness. Obviously, I caught a glimpse of something 42
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special in Scott to chat him up, but now that I think of it, you two are so perfect for each other. I can't wait to hear details." Lucy laughed, surprised at her candor. It was kind of nice to hear she wasn't imagining things. And friend or not, Lucy did want to have something to reveal to Carol the next time she saw her. Even if it was something small, she wanted to be a woman with a story to share, at least a little story. "Well, I'll keep you in the loop." Lucy tucked Carol's yarn in a paper bag. "It sounds like we're heading out for ice cream tonight and then I guess we'll see." Carol took her bag and smiled. "Good for you, Lucy. I hope you have a lot of fun. I'll grab Susan and we'll sneak out. See you next week." She tucked away the money and quickly set the till for her assistant. She was only a phone call away and Maggie had handled the store plenty of times, so she didn't fuss too much. After a moment of paperwork, she closed down her computer and tucked away the bank bag in her purse to take in the next day. She locked the door after Susan and Carol headed out and turned the 'open' sign to 'closed' before walking toward the back where she'd left Scott and the kids in the work room. "Finish up, guys. And you'd better behave at the ice cream shop or you'll be stuck inside for a week, washing dishes and doing laundry." She bit back a laugh at the threat. She'd bet dollars to doughnuts the boys and Jessie did their fair share of housework. By the time they were on their own, she had no 43
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doubt Scott would have prepared them to be excellent selfcaretakers. Her grandma had taught her and all of her foster siblings how to care for themselves. Even when the boys had griped and moaned about doing the work, they'd still learned and those skills had to be ones their wives and girlfriends appreciated. She wished she had better contact with all the people in her past, but memories were wonderful things. "All set?" She turned the corner to see all of the yarn put away and the work room spotless. "Wow, it looks fantastic in here. You all are hired." "We're real good at cleaning, Ms. Lucy," Greg said. "Dad makes us clean all the time, so we've had a lot of practice." "I bet," she said. "So, if you're ready, how about we get some ice cream?" The kids cheered and Scott smiled, the combination an infectious mix that had her more excited for ice cream than she had been probably since she was Jessie's age. She turned off the lights as the kids made their way to the door, the anticipation barely contained. Maybe after ice cream they could head to the park and the boys could get some wiggles out before bed. And maybe she and Scott could sit on one of the benches and talk some more. She wondered about him and his life. Where was his wife? Where had they been before moving to Pennsylvania? What were his plans for the future? There was so much she wanted to know about him. And even if she didn't get her answers, she still hoped spending a little extra time with him might be possible. 44
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"You're the dork," Ross said, shoving Greg. Lucy rolled her eyes as Scott moved forward and separated the boys. She locked the door and followed. The time for wiggles had returned and she didn't mind. No little boy could stay still for long. They were shoving and laughing, so at least they were good-natured. She enjoyed their energy and attitudes. They all seemed really good to each other, even now as Scott dropped back a few paces and let them shove it out on the empty sidewalk. "Boys," he muttered. "I thought things would be easier with Jessie but—" "Ross, I'm going to kick you in the face and then we'll see who's smiling." Lucy laughed out loud at the girl's outlandish boast. "Guys, settle down," Scott called and immediately the bulk of the shoving and playing stopped. "Good kids, all of them, but they're animals sometimes." The way he said the last part made her laugh. Animals. She'd always thought the same for kids that age. "Some days I'd swear my niece and nephew were parts skunk and weasel." "How old?" he asked. "Ten and twelve." "Oh yeah, sneaky and stinky ages. I remember when my brothers were those ages. I thought those years would never end. I already go through industrial-sized containers of soap and detergent every week. I don't even want to think about what puberty is going to bring." 45
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"Times two," she added. "You're going to have your hands full, but they're good boys. You'll be very glad you set such a wonderful foundation with them young. My grandma always said structure was half the trouble with teenagers. If they didn't learn 'no' when they were little, then they sure as heck weren't going to listen as near-adults." "Your grandma sounds like she was a very intelligent woman. Do you have a big family?" "Yes. After Grandma got custody of me, she started doing foster care, which lead to four foster brothers and a foster sister who stayed to adulthood. Some are local still, others moved across the country, but all of them are family. Did you come from a big family? I'd think so since you manage so well with your brood." "My family was small compared to my cousins'. We all lived in the same town, so we were always together. I only had two brothers at home, but any day of the week we could have a dozen relatives over." "That sounds amazing. I miss those days. Maybe I'll have to host something this fall for everyone who came through Grandma's house." "My house has a big backyard if you need more space," he offered. "Oh, I guess I hadn't thought of that. Maybe—" Scott took off, reacting to the scene in front of them before she even had a chance to process what was happening. The boys had started scuffling again and Greg tripped over the curb and into the street. A truck driving too quickly barreled straight for the boy and Lucy's breath caught, knowing she 46
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was neither close enough nor fast enough to save him. But Scott was. In a show of desperate speed, he flew to his son. He pushed Greg back to the sidewalk, but wasn't quick enough to get out of the way of the truck. It hit him with a deadening thud. Lucy screamed alongside the kids. The side street was empty at the moment, so the yelling did no good. She reached for her cellphone, but found her pocket empty. She had to do better with the damn thing for reasons just like this. She locked eyes with the man in the truck, the panic there mirrored in hers. He probably had a cellphone. He'd get Scott help. She ran for Scott, shouting for the kids to stay back. She expected the truck's driver to get out, but instead he put the vehicle into reverse and the tires squealed as he drove away. Lucy knelt beside her fallen friend. "Scott? Can you hear me?" She couldn't focus on the truck, not with Scott groaning, lying on the cement and holding his side. "Of course I hear you. He hit my side, not my ears." The gruffness of his reply was such a comfort, she let his sarcasm slide. "I'm going to have one of the kids run to the shop and call an ambulance. You lay still." "No ambulance. I'm fine. I'm sorry as hell to miss ice cream. I need to go home." She pushed his hard shoulder to the ground. "You were hit by a damn truck, Scott. Now is not the time to be stoic and 47
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tough. You're side is bleeding and you've got scratches on your face." "It's not the first time. Listen, please, Lucy." He grabbed tight to her hand, holding it to an uninjured part of his chest. "I know absolutely that I'm okay. And I can't be away from my kids—there's no one I can trust them with. Please just get us home and I promise I'll be fine." No one he'd trust with them. She remembered her grandmother saying the same about her, though Lucy had thought it was silly. Seeing Scott's intensity she understood it better. He actually didn't look too bad for getting hit by a truck. That didn't mean there wasn't internal bleeding or something horrible happening under his skin. "Daddy!" Jessie called, but when Lucy looked up, she was grateful to see one of the boys had caught her. "Lucy, please," Scott said very quietly. "Jessie doesn't need to see me like this and none of them need to be alone. Please get me home." He would bring Jessie into it. Lucy remembered what the little one said about her dad being the only one she had left. Scott had mentioned not having anyone close and maybe he really meant it. If she called an ambulance, a social worker would most likely be brought in, since she wasn't technically family, to take on the kids. Scott was already trying to stand up, slowly but surely finding his feet. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and helped him. "I'll bring you all home but if you think I'm going to leave, you're out of your mind," she whispered, helping him find his balance. 48
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"Yeah, I'd appreciate if you could stay for a while," he said, leaning on her just shy of too hard. "My truck is down the block. I can make it if you help me." "Of course I'll help," she replied, bracing to take more of his weight if he needed her. "If you have a brain aneurism or something and die, I'm never going to forgive you." "Fair enough. Kids, to the truck now." They didn't hesitate, just ran to the blue dual-cab four-byfour and piled in. "My keys are in my pocket," Scott said, limping at her side. "I'm not trying to be a creep, but my hand is numb." "Oh, okay. Don't worry, I have faith that when you do try to get me in your pants, you'll have better lines," she said, the humor coming from her need to gain some control of the situation. He laughed and gasped in pain. "Your ribs hurt, don't they?" "Like they got hit by a fucking truck. I'm going to find that guy and beat the hell out of him. He was going way too fast. If it had been Greg—" "It wasn't," she comforted when he immediately tensed and started breathing harder at the thought. "Greg is fine and you'll be fine too. I'll write down his license plate number when I get in the truck." "You remember it?" "Numbers and letters stick with me," she said and paused at the curb when they were at his truck. It was big and even with the step bar, she knew it was going to be a challenge getting him inside without breaking him more. 49
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**** Scott couldn't believe it. Just when he was finally getting somewhere with Lucy, he got hit by a damn truck. What were the odds? He'd jacked his back again, but it felt like he was at least upright and able to support himself. He didn't want to try that on his own without Lucy nearby. As far as getting hit by a car went, he thought he'd come out of it relatively unscathed. "Hell." His truck had never looked so tall. "Okay, here's what we're going to do." Beside him, Lucy held tight to her control, not letting panic loose though he knew it had been close for a few moments after the other truck drove off. To be fair, he'd have been going nuts if roles had been reversed. "You're going to turn so your butt is toward the door. Then I'm going to get in and pull you up. Between the two of us, we should be able to get you in." He nodded. That sounded like a good enough plan. He thought throwing him in the back sounded better, but that was sure to freak Lucy out more and it would bother the kids. He looked to the backseat after Lucy opened the door and braced him there. The kids sat quietly, each buckled in and watching him with wide eyes. They'd seen him hurt worse but the past didn't make this time any easier. Without him, they knew they'd be out of a home, out of any kind of normal life for a werewolf. He'd never pointed the facts out, but they weren't dumb. There wasn't anyone else who would willingly take them on, considering what their mother had done. "Scott, turn for me." 50
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He'd zoned through the pain a moment, but realized Lucy was waiting for him. He braced his hands, hoping his arms would hold him so Lucy didn't hurt herself getting his big ass into the truck. Her little hands slipped under his armpits, and with more strength than he'd have imagined, she began to slowly and steadily pull him into the truck. He flexed his muscles, doing his part and, with relatively little pain, he settled into the passenger seat. "See, guys?" Lucy said, her smile too bright as she buckled his seatbelt and her own. "He's fine. We'll get him home and cleaned up and he'll be back to causing trouble in no time." "I'm sorry for pushing Greg," Ross said in the barest of whispers. Scott's gaze was toward Lucy when his boy said the words and the pure compassion in her eyes matched his feelings. His boys might be rough but he knew they'd never hurt each other. Ross was going to have to deal with some guilt for a while. "I know, Ross," Scott said. "That guy was driving too fast and near the curb. I'm grateful I made it in time." "Me too," Greg said. "Are you okay, Daddy?" He forced a smile, a pounding headache from the pain starting to set in. "I'm fine, Greg. I promise. Can you tell Lucy the directions to the house, please?" He closed his eyes, the bright sunset killing his brain as they drove west toward home. Greg quietly gave concise directions and Scott trusted his kids enough to get them home and trusted Lucy enough to get them there in one piece. What choice did he have other than to put his faith in 51
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her? Liking her wasn't the problem, but trust was a squirrel of a different color. Like it or not, their relationship was getting pressed to a point he wasn't ready for. If he had to be pressed closer to anyone, at least it was Lucy. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 5 The kids were hungry. The refrigerator was full and they were looking at her like she should be able to do something about their growling bellies. She would have loved to be one of those women who could look in the fridge and whip up a casserole or a smart, nutritious dinner. Unfortunately she wasn't one of those. Her meals consisted of takeout or modest snacks of cheese, crackers and fruits she didn't have to worry about burning or turning to mush. "There's the stuff for meatloaf," Ross offered with a very hopeful smile. "Daddy was going to make it tonight." Even more, she wished she could whip up the log of hamburger, but from experience, she knew she'd need a fire extinguisher and maybe charcoal tablets for the impending food poisoning. "How about we eat light tonight?" she asked, grabbing a huge brick of cheese and cold cuts. There wasn't a single piece of fruit in the otherwise well-stocked fridge. There weren't any veggies either. Maybe Scott hadn't had a chance to get to the farmers market for fresh. Or maybe he needed a talking-to about a balanced diet for him and the kids. "We, ah, don't eat light," Greg said, scratching his stomach. Home again, a lot of the tension had eased. Scott slept on the sofa in fresh clothes. She'd helped him a little with bandaging up the abrasions, but he'd very politely kicked her out of his room while he saw to his other injuries. "We could make sandwiches with that stuff, if you want." 53
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"Great idea, Greg." She smiled at the boy who was more mature when necessary. "If you find bread, I'll start slicing and stacking." Ten minutes later, Lucy tried very hard to keep the shock out of her expression. She'd only seen sandwiches like the ones the boys had put together on extreme food shows. They were at least three inches thick, all meat and cheese between two pieces of grainy wheat bread. Jessie was just as bad, eating away at hers like she was starved. They probably were, if they'd been planning ice cream as a snack, but she still couldn't believe they were plowing through a brick of cheese and two pounds of cold cuts like it was peanut butter and jelly on white bread. "Um, do you guys have applesauce or any fruits or veggies you usually eat with sandwiches?" She poured more milk in each of the kids' glasses. "Nope," Ross said after a big gulp of whole milk. "Dad makes us eat that stuff twice a week, and we already did it this week. Carrots and bananas." The table occupants shuddered as one and she bit back a smile. Okay, so maybe Scott did try. It still boggled her mind though that they ate so much yet all of them were slim to the point of skinny. "Can we have ice cream now?" Ross asked, his giant sandwich annihilated to a few crumbs of bread on his plate. "I can get it out. It's in the back freezer. Oh, and I can take out sausage too, so we can have it for breakfast." Breakfast was usually a bowl of cereal for her, but after seeing them eat, she imaged corn flakes and milk wasn't 54
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going to cut it. Maybe she'd run out to the diner in the morning and load up on breakfast foods for everyone. Another thought made her pause. If Scott's kids ate like this, how hungry must he be? "Go ahead and have ice cream, guys, then wash up and get in pajamas." She smiled at them, though her mind raced again with worry over Scott. "Is that what you usually do?" "Yep," Jessie said, throwing out the paper plates and stacking the glasses nicely in the sink. "And the boys won't give you any crap either." "We won't." Greg got out bowls and spoons. "We'll eat and go to bed. We're tired anyway. Dad ran us most of the day so we'd be good at knitting tonight. I can stay up with him, though, in case he needs anything." "Don't worry, Greg." Lucy ruffled his soft brown hair. "I'll stay tonight and keep an eye on things." He leaned into her hand, like it had been too long since he'd been touched or offered affection. She knew their dad was wonderful about sharing his time and love, yet she also understood that sometimes it wasn't enough. "We'll eat and wash up," Ross promised, toting a gallon of ice cream. "Good. I'm going to go check on your dad. Maybe he'll feel like having something to eat." Or maybe not, she thought, remembering one of her brothers who had liked to fight. Before Grandma had taken him under her wing, he'd always had bruises. He'd lamented about food one Thanksgiving when he'd slipped back into his old ways. His teeth had been too sore to eat and he'd been 55
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nauseous from swallowing blood. She hoped Scott fared better. The living room was in the front of the house, with several rooms between it and the kitchen. The house's layout was probably a hodgepodge of different owners adding to the place. It was plenty big, but part of her wished she could hear the kids better in the kitchen. Though, if they started squabbling, she was sure she would hear them. She'd closed the curtains in the living room when the light had seemed to bother Scott, so the room was cool and nearly dark as the sun had furthered its descent. He lay on the sofa, not moving, and for a moment she panicked, thinking he wasn't breathing. "I'm okay," he grumbled, still not moving an inch, but apparently he had heard her enter. "How are the kids? Did they eat?" "The kids are fine." She stepped farther into the room and took a seat on the heavy coffee table beside him. "They ate enormous sandwiches and now are tackling bowls of ice cream. I don't know how you keep up with those appetites." "It's not always easy," he said and from her new position she could see his face. He looked pale and his lips were drawn in pain, yet like he'd said, he seemed okay. "There's sausage in the freezer and a couple dozen eggs in the fridge for breakfast. I don't know if I'll be up to making it and Greg—" "Don't worry about it." She tugged his blanket over his shoulders. "I'll stay tonight and make sure they eat in the morning." She left out the part about her not being able to 56
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cook worth a darn, but come hell or high water, she would see the kids fed. "Thank you," he muttered, closing his eyes again. "Can I bring you some pain medication or maybe something to eat?" she asked, indulging her need to run her hand over his head. Like Greg, he leaned toward her. They were all missing touch and it broke Lucy's heart. "I'll grab something in a little while," he said. "I think for now I just need to sleep. The kids will eat their ice cream and go to bed. They're all tired." "Yes, they already promised. I'll clean up the kitchen and bring my knitting in here to keep an eye on things." "I wish I could say you don't need to stay," he said, his lips barely moving. "But it wouldn't be true." "Well, you're in luck, because I have nowhere I need to be and nothing is going to pull me away from helping you guys now. Just rest, okay, Scott? I'll go check on the kids again and be back in a few minutes. Call out if you need anything." **** He was going to hell. Scott waited until Lucy's footsteps were well away before sitting up and finishing the candy bar he'd grabbed from his bedroom. The action made him wince, so he didn't feel too bad for putting on the pitiful face for Lucy. He did feel rough, there was no denying it, but he could have been up. Instead, he was indulging a little. He'd heard Ross and Greg talking about how kind Lucy was and about how nice it was to have a girl in the house and, 57
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suddenly, his plan to tell her she should go hadn't been so great. Letting anyone close was detrimental to their identity, however when Lucy had ran her hand through his hair, he'd realized why his boys were so infatuated with the loving woman. The clues were all lining up for Lucy to be more to all of them than a friendly human. He was going to spend the night healing on the couch, soaking in her scent while she knitted and hopefully got some sleep. The loveseat was comfortable. She'd be able to rest and she'd said something about taking the next few days off anyway, so he assured himself he wasn't being too selfish. Letting her loose after she spent time with him and the kids, that might be more difficult than planned, but he'd take things one step at a time. Footfalls returned to the hall before he'd anticipated. He shoved the rest of the candy in his mouth and lay down. The sugary snack would do until Lucy fell asleep and he could chow down a couple pounds of hamburger. The kids piled in the room, each with scrubbed faces and in their pajamas. Lucy had probably asked them to wash up and Ross, bless his silly heart, had nearly rubbed the skin off his face. "We're going to bed, Daddy." Jessie kissed his cheek. "Don't eat any more candy. You'll get a tummy ache." "Okay, honey. Sleep good tonight and don't get up too early." He hugged her, though the motion killed his arm. "We'll sleep until eight," Greg promised and Ross nodded. Scott knew the days of hugs were limited, so he savored when Ross embraced him for a long minute. When Greg hugged him, Scott held tight an extra moment. 58
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"I'm so glad you're all right," Scott said. He didn't say more yet Greg's eyes were wet with unshed tears when he pulled away. They were strong, sensitive boys. Their mother had seen that as a bad thing, while Scott knew he'd been similar in his youth. Time helped control it, but in Scott's eyes, they were barely out of babyhood and he wasn't about to scold or encourage them to be more stoic. "I'm glad you're all right too," Greg said and herded the others from the room. Scott listened as Lucy directed the kids to their beds, and when Jessie asked if she would tuck them in, it gave Scott a new level of peace when Lucy said 'of course'. He closed his eyes, the aches settling on after all the ups and down and hugs. He'd rest for a while and then when Lucy got back, maybe he could get her to tell him more about herself. It wasn't courting over ice cream cones, but the last few hours had proven to him they were at least moving past the acquaintance stage. **** "In case of emergency..." Lucy read the note on the refrigerator and relief filled her. They weren't as alone as Scott had said. The name on the card was Chris Meyters and though the area code wasn't local, Lucy recognized it as still in Pennsylvania. She didn't mind staying the night and certainly wouldn't leave. She knew how hard it could be to ask for help, but if there was ever an appropriate time to set aside pride, it was after getting hit by a truck. 59
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She picked up the house phone and dialed the number. Maybe she should ask Scott, she thought, but remembered the way he could barely move his lips without pain. No, she'd make the call and find out if they had a family doctor who might make a house call. She wasn't sure if any doctors actually did anymore, but her grandma had had a friend who was a nurse who helped out on occasion. "Hello." "Ah, hello. Is this Chris Meyters? I'm Lucy Jamieson, a friend of Scott Terwolf." "Scott? Is everything okay?" The male voice went from pleasant to intense in an instant. "Well, Scott was hit by a truck today. He insisted I not take him to a hospital, but I have to admit I'm a bit worried about him." Silence stretched on the other end and Lucy could imagine the news was a surprise. How often did anyone get a call about someone they cared for getting hit by a truck? "Is he alive?" "Oh, yes, definitely alive. He wouldn't let me help with bandaging his side, but I didn't see any more blood leaking through his clothes and he's speaking well enough. He's moving very slowly, though, and I was wondering if there's a family friend or someone who could come and help him with the kids until he's back on his feet." The request seemed reasonable. She understood family dynamics enough to know some people didn't get along. She hoped for the sake of the kids someone would come. "Did you call the police?" 60
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She hesitated. Calling in the incident had crossed her mind more than once in the last few hours, but Scott's request held her back. "I haven't yet. He asked me not to call, but I got the man's license plate number. I'm sure the police could find him and take care of the situation." "Why don't you give me the numbers?" he asked. "I've got a friend who works for the Philly PD. I can take care of this on the legal side so you and Scott don't have to." It was an easy out, but if Scott's family wanted to handle everything, she was grateful. She recited the numbers and letters and gave a decent description of the truck. "You have a good memory. This should be enough to catch the bastard. I'll get on this right now." "Wait, isn't someone going to come and help Scott and the kids?" Quiet filled the line until he said, "You can't stay to help?" "Well." She could, but Scott had admitted to having trust issues and she didn't want to press him, especially when he was hurt. "I thought he might be more comfortable with having family in his home. I'm more of a new friend than a close friend." Silence stretched again and Lucy didn't know what it meant. She certainly wouldn't shirk responsibility, but she really did wish the man on the phone would simply step in and handle things. "Good. Then stay and help. I'll try to send someone down in the next few weeks to check things out. Don't worry about Scott. He'll be fine soon." 61
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He sounded so confident that she'd do what he said, and darn it, he was right. She wasn't going to leave the kids and Scott while he was laid up, but for a stranger to assume it was a bit infuriating. "Next few weeks? Do you really think that's wise? You don't even know me. I could be an ax murderer or a thief. Do you really think you should leave this to me?" The man on the other end chuckled. "Scott let you near his kids—to me, his judgement is better than all the background checks in the world. He's a good, ah, man. If he saw something in you he liked and trusted after all the hell he's gone through lately, then his judgment is what's important. That said, if he stops being responsive or starts bleeding again, call me immediately." "And who is this exactly?" she asked, flattered beyond belief at his words. "I'm sorry. I'm Chris Meyters, a ... cousin of Scott's, I suppose you could say." "Okay, Cousin Chris, I'll hold down the fort and hope I don't need to call again," she said. "Thank you, Lucy. Don't let Scott or the kids give you any crap either, not that I think they would. They're a really nice family. Take care and don't hesitate to call again." She hung up feeling a lot better than when she'd called. Her heart simply felt lighter because she knew Scott had someone else. She didn't mind helping. However, when it was only her, she got nervous. She almost hadn't taken her niece and nephew because of her fear of failing, but that had gone well, and this time it would too. 62
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After turning off a few lights, she grabbed her purse and headed to the living room. If the kids needed her, they knew where she'd be. It was all very unexpected, but she was flexible enough to do what was needed. At least until she burned out. Her grandma had tried to instill patience into her and, most days, Lucy knew she'd done a beautiful job handing down that gift. Unfortunately, tired and still shaken from seeing Scott actually hit by a truck, she was feeling edgy. She needed to sit and relax, and a cup of tea would be absolutely delightful, but aside from several gallons of whole milk and a few bottles of beer, there wasn't anything besides water. The beer gave her pause. She backtracked and took one of the icy bottles from the fridge. A cold beer had never sounded better. Scott still rested when she turned on the little lamp beside the loveseat on the opposite wall of the room. He was so big, yet on the couch, he looked smaller. Pain did that to a person and her heart broke a little. She wished she could do something for him. She twisted the metal cap off the beer bottle and tried to be quiet, but it hissed when it released. Scott's eyes flew open and she wished she'd grabbed a glass of water. "Sorry I woke you," she whispered. "I hope you don't mind." "No, not at all. Help yourself to whatever you want." He looked a little off, but she couldn't quite place what was wrong. Were his eyes blurry? 63
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"Are you feeling okay, Scott? Can I bring you some water or anything?" "I feel funny," he said, his grin cockeyed and adorable. Cute or not, warning bells went off in Lucy's head. "Fever, maybe?" She set aside her beer and hurried to him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. "Oh, honey, you're burning up." "Mmm." He rubbed his head to her hand like an animal begging for a petting. His hand snuck out from his blanket and Lucy started when it wrapped just above her knee. "You smell so good." She laughed lightly. "I'm glad you think so, Scott. I need to find your Tylenol. Where do you keep it, so I can get you some to bring this fever down?" "No meds. It'll pass." He kept rubbing his face to her hand. "Mmmm, so good. Everyone should smell as good as you." "Oh." He massaged her thigh and, though his hand didn't move up, it kept her attention. "Scott, you need to let me loose so I can get you some medication, sweetie." "I'd like to be your sweetie," he said. "I'd even let you call me stupid stuff like cupcake." The fever had to be loosening up his tongue. The stoic, tough Scott she'd known so far wasn't so chatty, but still, it was incredibly nice to hear his silly words directed at her. "You should come snuggle me," Scott said, tucking her hand beneath his cheek. "You know, in case I get the chills or something." "Right, I don't see that happening, big boy. You need to sleep this off if you don't think Tylenol will help." 64
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"Naw, doesn't work. Just snuggles and pets soothe the wolf." Her confusion at his odd words was probably the reason she let herself be tugged down to sit on the sofa. In a flash, he had his head docilely in her lap and the crazy talk was done, Scott back to sleep. She sighed. How she got herself into situations like this, she'd never know. Maybe she was too nice. She should have been more firm with Scott. If she had, she'd be enjoying her beer. She rested her hand on his shaved head. It was a little warm and since it seemed to soothe him, she stroked her hand from his forehead to his neck. She had to admit the change of seating wasn't that bad. If she were across the room in her chair with a beer, she wouldn't be touching Scott. The unexpected tradeoff was better than she'd have thought. He was softer than he looked and even though he always said she smelled good, he was the one who really smelled different. A really wonderful different. Her knitting lay on the loveseat beside her beer, but fatigue settled in. The trauma and drama of the day were catching up and she was tired. Scott would probably need her in the night and the kids would be up early. Sleeping sounded just right. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 6 Fever. It raged dangerously high, and Scott couldn't break himself from the heat. What the hell had he been thinking, grabbing Lucy? She should have smacked him silly. Instead she'd sat quietly and petted his head while she thought he slept. He hoped she dozed hard enough for him to move without waking her. If he could force himself to make the break. He had to change. His wolf needed rein before the fever burnt him up. The shift would also help with the healing, but the second he gave the change control, he'd be unable to tell Lucy what was happening. Ah hell, she was sleeping. It would work. The wolf came upon him quickly, hurting only because of his sore muscles and damaged skin. Any other day, it wouldn't have hurt, but there was no avoiding the burn this time. He jumped to his feet as he shifted, trying to put space between him and Lucy before he accidentally woke her. He stretched when his four paws hit the floor. Damn, it felt good to be a wolf. It had been over a week since his last change, when he and the kids had roughhoused in the basement for a few hours. He wished he could go for a run. The fever made him bold. A nice long run, maybe a rabbit chase would go a long way to make him feel werewolf again. "Oh my gosh." He froze. Wolf or not, there was no denying the man in him, and the man had heard his female freak out. 66
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Scott turned slowly, trying to be calm and comforting so she wouldn't panic. Lucy stood on her feet, her lovely sleep expression replaced with terror. The early morning light made it especially easy to see her exact features. His calm, patient Lucy was at the end of her rope. "Scott? No. A dog," she muttered to herself more than actually addressing him, and he realized she must have seen or felt him change instead of assuming he'd left and a dog had entered the house. "You have to be a dog. You can't be Scott. That's not possible." Possible or not, he couldn't speak as a wolf and she needed him to if she was going to hold herself together. He shifted again, grabbing the blanket the second he had hands again. He always shredded his clothes when he shifted, but hadn't thought of that in his fevered delirium. The last thing Lucy needed was to be alone with a strange, naked wolf-man. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh." She repeated herself, moving away from him as much as the little room allowed. "What the heck are you?" "Lucy, it's okay. I know this is unexpected, but I can explain." "You can explain how you changed into a big dog and then changed back?" she demanded and grabbed her purse from the loveseat, holding the giant sack in front of her in defense. "Not a dog." He winced when she whimpered. "Honey, I promise you nothing is going to happen to you. I'd never ever hurt you. You know what you just saw. I didn't turn into a dog. I can shift into a wolf because I'm a werewolf." 67
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"You're crazy." Lucy's panic stumbled into shock and Scott felt it in the room like an ugly gas. Her terror suffocated him. His truck keys caught his attention. Taking care to move slowly, he stepped forward and used the tip of his finger to nudge the keys closer to Lucy before stepping back again. "I'm not going to keep you here, Lucy. Take my truck and go home if you need to, okay? We can talk about this in a few days." "No, we won't." She snatched the keys and hugged back to the wall. "No, because this is crazy. This isn't real. I'm leaving and you're not a werewolf. You're some crazy man and I need to go home." "That's fine, sweetheart, go home," he said, though her fear was killing him. He hated that he'd scared her. Lucy walked backward to the door, keeping her eyes on him, but he didn't move. He wasn't giving her any more reason to be afraid of him. She got to the door and ran. He heard the main door open and her feet flying over the concrete to his truck. It roared to life. Still, he didn't move. He'd frightened her away and Scott couldn't remember a single time when he'd felt worse. It had been tough being kicked out of his pack. Scaring Lucy, even unintentionally, was a new low. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 7 Werewolf. It couldn't be real. How could it be real? Lucy still shook as she pulled the truck over after driving three blocks from Scott's house. She'd been dreaming about powder-blue wool when she felt him move. She'd barely opened her eyes in time to see him change from the man she'd been snuggling into a wolf. A real wolf with gray fur and a set of unbelievable teeth in its mouth. It had stretched and wiggled and ... She shook herself again. No, that had to be impossible. If werewolves really existed, then they would have been exposed by now. She'd finally snapped. Her grandma had always warned if she didn't have a balanced life she'd go crazy. She must have been working too many hours or maybe she hadn't had enough vitamin C lately. Surley there was a logical explanation for why the really nice man she hadn't been able to get out of her head in weeks had turned into a wolf. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel, thankful for how clean it was. The vehicle reminded her of Scott, big, powerful ... She hoped to everything good and holy in the world it didn't transform. Maybe she was just tired. Fatigue made people see unexplainable things sometimes. She needed to go home, drink herbal tea, have some granola and sleep in her own bed. When she woke up, the whole day and night would be nothing more than a dream. 69
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She put the truck in gear again, turning right at the corner near her apartment. Home was only a few minutes away, which meant her sanctuary approached. She was halfway home when guilt started trickling in. The kids hadn't eaten breakfast. She'd taken off like a giant wimp and if Scott— whom she was not going to think too much of—was back to being ill, then they wouldn't have anything to eat. Their trusting eyes came to mind and she knew there was no way she could walk away. She turned toward her favorite diner before she could talk herself out of it. She didn't think she had a fever, but maybe Scott's fever had transferred to her for a moment, making her a little delirious. That had to be it. The momentary lapse in sanity wasn't enough of an excuse to let the kids go without breakfast. With delusion firmly in place, she parked the truck and headed into the diner. It was early, so the breakfast hotspot wasn't too busy yet. She hoped it wouldn't take long. Then again, for the amount of food she'd need to feed the kids, maybe it didn't matter. **** A full hour had passed when Lucy pulled the truck back into Scott's driveway. In the passenger seat were half a dozen large containers filled with food. The waitress had laughed, asking if she was in charge of breakfast at work. It wouldn't have made sense to say it was for three little kids, so she'd just smiled and nodded. Telling herself Scott couldn't possibly be a werewolf wasn't working for her any longer, not 70
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when the facts had come together in her mind while she waited for the food with a cup of tea at the diner. What had happened was scary, but she hadn't been threatened and hadn't felt threatened. That had to mean something. If Scott could turn into a wolf, the kids might too and they weren't scary. Her grandmother had always told her to follow her feelings, not necessarily her first reaction. Her gut was good in fight-or-flight situations, but when there was time to think, she needed to consider all of her feelings. With a clearer head, she had to admit she'd overreacted. To be fair, she'd never mentally prepared for her first meeting with a werewolf. She grabbed her purse and all the food. If she was going to make amends, she hoped food worked the same for werewolves as it did for people. She walked around the truck and nearly stumbled when she saw Jessie sitting alone on the front porch. Scott's house wasn't the prettiest thing to look at, but she knew they hadn't been in it long and were working on the inside more than the outside. The porch was in good shape, though, and Jessie was writing on it with sidewalk chalk. She looked up and her eyes lit with excitment. "You're back! I told Daddy you'd come back." She jumped to her feet. Lucy smiled. The little girl was a delight, but a second later Lucy remembered what she was. Werewolf. Jessie's steps faltered and her joyful expression turned sad. "You're not scared of me, are you, Lucy?" Jessie asked with wide eyes. 71
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"Oh, honey." She sat on the porch stairs, setting the food down. "I did get scared this morning when I saw your daddy. I'm trying really hard not to be nervous around you because I do think you're wonderful." "It's okay to be scared," Jessie said, not looking at her, but it sounded like the child genuinely did understand even if she was still sad about the whole situation. "I remember the first time I saw Daddy shift. In our pack we weren't allowed to change more than once a month and I didn't even realize we weren't human like everyone else. Then one day I looked outside and he changed right into a wolf. It was scary and I cried and ran to my grandma. It made Daddy feel really bad." Lucy wondered if she'd made Scott feel the same with her reaction to his change. "When he came to get me, I was still afraid and we had a long talk and I realized I'd be a werewolf and change one day. And I learned that even when he was a wolf, he was still my daddy and he never stopped loving me. Then he let me pet him." "You got to pet him?" Lucy asked, the thought intriguing. "Really?" "Yep, he's soft and when you look in his eyes, you can see it's the same Daddy there. Before we moved here, he took me and the boys out squirrel chasing and all sorts of stuff only wolves can do. He's really not scary, Lucy, and I bet he didn't mean to scare you, just like he never meant to scare me." Jessie's words humbled Lucy. Someone so young seemed to understand exactly what had happened and, with Jessie's 72
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words, Lucy knew more than ever that she needed to make amends. She didn't know if she could pursue a relationship with Scott, that might be too much, but there was no reason why she couldn't be civil and friendly. "Well, let's go have breakfast, okay? I'll talk to your dad and we'll get all of this figured out." "Really? Breakfast? Mmm, I smell bacon." "You smell three pounds of bacon. After the way you guys ate last night, I wanted to make sure there was enough for everyone." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 8 He was scum. He was the bottom feeder that ate scum and rolled in the droppings. Scaring Lucy—there could be nothing worse. Scott shuffled around the kitchen, wincing when he bent to take the carton of eggs out of the fridge. He needed another day of downtime, but since he wasn't going to get it, food would help. The kids would eat, he would eat, and hopefully they could take it easy. He'd have to go find his truck sometime, but for today he'd give Lucy space and stay home to lick his wounds. He set aside the eggs, needing coffee to even face the actual making of the meal. Maybe it was time to let Greg and Ross start handling a little cooking. "Daddy! Lucy brought breakfast!" He jerked, cursing his distraction. He should have been paying more attention. Lucy could have been anyone and they could have done anything to Jessie while he'd been in his stupid pity party. He couldn't believe Lucy was there, but she stood beside Jessie with her hands full of amazing-smelling boxes. "Hi, Scott. I thought you guys might be hungry." The boys' stomachs growled from their bedroom, where he'd sent them to get dressed, and his own stomach rumbled as well. She must have heard because she smiled and walked closer, setting the containers on the counter. "Go ahead and get a plate, there's plenty for everyone. I ordered enough for ten people." 74
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Which meant it would feed a few werewolves, so Scott would wait until the kids ate. Lucy smiled as she fussed around the kitchen. Fear dwelled in the air, a wariness previously not present, but she was there. He wasn't about to look the gift horse in the mouth. "I'm glad you're here. And thanks for bringing breakfast." "Of course. You need to sit down. You look dead on your feet." Her concern warmed him to his toes and he did as she said, grabbing plates and bringing them to the table with him. The nurturing part of her made him want to be stronger and protect her from every little thing. The intensity of those urges surprised him, but he thought he could get used to them. Lucy and Jessie followed with the food and milk. "Did you want coffee, Scott?" "Ah, yeah. That would be great." She'd come back, but everything that had felt so natural between them before now felt horribly awkward. Her discomfort beat at him to the point he knew he'd do anything, promise anything to make things right. The boys hurried in, nearly buzzing with tension as they sat. They knew about Lucy running away and they, like him, didn't know why she was back. They weren't about to get their hopes up. "Lucy, how about we take our food out to the porch?" he asked after all three kids had their plates full. She must have ordered more than she'd said because there was enough to fill even his plate. "Sure. Let me grab some coffee and I'll join you." 75
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She had guts, he thought, and hobbled to the front of the house, giving the kids a last warning look to behave. There was plenty of food, though, so they'd be fine for a while. If he and Lucy were outside, then hopefully the kids would respect their privacy. He sat on one of the chairs and pulled the other one from behind the toy box. Sitting on the hard deck wasn't where he wanted to be and he certainly didn't want her on the floor either. With only coffee in hand, she sat beside him, not even pushing the chair away. That had to be a good sign. He waited for her to say something, but when she simply sipped at her coffee, he figured he'd have to make the first step. "So. What made you come back?" There was no use dancing around the subject. She couldn't ignore the facts any more than he could ignore her discomfort. "I was worried the kids would be hungry." She took another sip of her coffee. "And I don't know. I had a chance to actually think and I realized you'd never threatened or tried to hurt me. Those things counted for me more than me being afraid of what ... well, what you are." "Which is a werewolf," he said, and sighed. "I'm not sorry for what I am, Lucy. This is the way I was born and, honestly, I really like it. And you're right, I didn't threaten you and would never threaten or try to hurt you. Most werewolves would say the same thing. We're like humans in many ways. We take family a little more seriously, have better senses and a few other little perks." "Like turning into wolves," she said. 76
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"Shifting is probably the best perk." She drank more coffee and he took a few bites of eggs in the meantime. There was no use rushing the conversation. She was back to smelling patient, so being near her calmed him. More than content, he had the huge urge to make her happy any way he could, which meant not pushing her. "My grandma took in all kinds of kids. She was my mother's mother, so I was actually her granddaughter, but the others, she loved them the same. It didn't matter what their history was or what color they were, she saw them as another child to love, another soul to be nurtured. She tried really hard to teach me, but I don't always do a good job." "You do fine," he protested. "You looked at a big jerk like me and found a reason to be kind after I'd been an ass." "Well, your daughter is adorable, Scott, so that's not all you." She finally had a little humor in her voice and it was music to his ears. "Anyway, I hope you'll forgive me for running away from you and I hope we can still be friends. I don't know the werewolf rules or whatever, but I have come to really enjoy our friendship." Friends. Twice. He figured that meant it was going to take some work to get her back to thinking romantically about him. The meetings of the last few weeks had built on each other, giving him more confidence. What grew inside his heart was something he needed to pursue. He wanted to be with Lucy and make her smile. He would do a whole lot more than make her smile if she let him. But, hell, she was sitting beside 77
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him and that was more than half the battle as far as he was concerned. "Of course you're forgiven for running away. Hell, if you'd turned into a gerbil or something, I'd have probably run. There are certain rules of thumb about werewolf and human relations, but I'm a relative lone wolf with my kids at this point, so I certainly don't have a problem being ... friends with you." She must have heard the inflection on friends because she turned to him with narrow eyes. He grinned, almost hoping she'd call him on it. Instead, her freckled cheeks turned slightly pink and she took another drink of coffee. "If we're going to be friends, I'd appreciate you getting some tea or something other than coffee and whole milk to drink," she said so primly he had to laugh again. "Okay, that's fair enough." He held out his hand. "We'll keep up this friend thing we've got going and I'll do my part to make sure you have something you like here when you visit." She took his hand, shaking it professionally. "And I'll do my best not to get squeamish when I think about you changing into a wolf." "That's all I'm asking. If we can do those two little things, I have no doubt we'll make this friendship a good thing." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 9 Friends. With a werewolf. Lucy took a sip of the flat, flavorless tea Scott had brought her when she stopped by. It was truly awful, but he'd been so darn proud, which meant she'd drink the whole cup and pray he didn't offer seconds. The boys and Jessie played on the swingset in the evening sun. The bars were far more reinforced than any play equipment she'd played on as a child, but then again, she hadn't been a werewolf. Again with the wolf thing. She wasn't going to let the new detail get to her. She'd made a point not to stay away for very long. There was no reason for them to think she didn't want to spend time with them, especially the kids. She'd already promised Jessie the truth didn't scare her and Lucy had every intention of believing that until it finally stuck as gospel. "You aren't getting ready to run again, are you?" She started at the sudden appearance of Ross. He was such a cute little boy, but freaky fast, which was now explained by him being a werewolf. He also had a very sensitive heart and, once again, Lucy resolved herself not to be afraid of the family. "Nope," she answered, setting aside her cup. "I am still getting used to the fact that you and your family are different from me, but you know what? Different can be wonderful and since I already think you and your brother and sister are great, the rest will all come together." 79
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He nodded, more thoughtful for a boy his age than she'd have guessed, but he was Scott's son. Scott was the kind of man who seemed to really think and the trait had probably passed to all of his children. "Because my grandma is like us, but we scare her. She won't let us near her anymore because we're different. I don't want to like you if you're going to be like her." Her heart broke right in half. Lucy had heard dozens of sob stories and seriously sad things in her life, but Ross's bleak confession, whispered for her ears only, made her want to cry. Instead she scooted over on the bench and tugged the boy to her chest. "I'm so sorry she made you feel bad, sweetheart. I understand if it takes a while for us to be friends, I really do, so you just take your time if you need it." His skinny arms wrapped around her and Lucy knew the little guy wasn't one to hold back. She wondered when the last time someone other than his dad had hugged him. Scott didn't withhold affection with any of the kids. She assumed it was the same for boys as it had been for her as a girl. She'd loved her grandma, but Lucy had wanted a daddy-type person to hug and love her as well. Maybe Ross was hoping for the same thing in a way and, premature as it was, Lucy wasn't about to push him away because if nothing else, she was going to be friends with the family. "Okay," he muttered and, as if he hadn't been snuggling with her, he took off. Her foster brothers had been similar, she thought, picking her tea up and wincing after taking a sip. Eric and Jeff—they'd been good boys who had needed love like nothing else and 80
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she hoped what they'd got in her grandmother's home was enough. She'd done her best to love them like they were her own big brothers. Maybe she should call them. The last time she'd seen anyone except her sister Jennifer had been at Grandma's funeral. Everyone was so busy and she didn't want to be the one to drag them back if the sad memories were keeping them away. "How's the tea?" She looked away from the kids playing and smiled at Scott. He'd invited her over on his way home from work and had apologized before jumping into the shower when he'd thought he smelled. She certainly hadn't noticed and would never had said anything if she had, but she wasn't going to argue with the results. His dress slacks were gone, replaced with snug jeans and an equally tight black T-shirt. If he'd looked a little tense after his long day, it was gone and the best part, his feet were bare. Adorable. "The tea is fine, thanks," she said, but didn't make the mistake of picking it up again. He looked at her through narrowed eyes and she hoped he didn't catch her in the tiny fib. What if the books are true? What if he can smell dishonesty? "So, the whole werewolf thing. I think I need more information on ... everything." He nodded. "Go ahead, hit me with your questions." "Well." There was so much. Where to start? "Which author has it right? Are you guys, like, bloodthirsty and controlled by the moon or something?" 81
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He laughed. "No one's got it quite right. If you go by the books and movies, we're way more exciting than we actually are. The moon thing is basically false. It's more of a tradition for first changes to happen for the youths during the full moon than anything. We can change at will, it doesn't hurt and it's one of those things that is good for our wellbeing. I've heard of some Weres going for years without changing with no adverse affects." "And the other night in the living room?" "The other night I had a fever. Sometimes a quick change is enough to shock our system out of sickness and I took a chance. I'm sorry again for scaring you." She waved her hand and automatically reached for her tea, but stopped herself before drinking. "Don't worry about that. Tell me more about you guys. Do you have packs?" He was quiet a long moment and she wondered if she'd hit a sore spot. If the kids' grandmother had disowned them, maybe there was some discord in the family. "We're supposed to," he finally said. "At the moment, me and the kids are technically lone wolves. It's kind of a long story." She waited. She had time for the story if he wanted to share it, but she wasn't going to press him if he wasn't inclined. "The thing with us ... Well, I might as well start from the beginning. Weres have always been immune to basic illness, including mental illness. We don't get depressed, don't have schizophrenia or ADHD or anything like that. We don't watch 82
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for it because it doesn't happen. Somehow it did with my mate. Something in her just ... snapped. "She was always distant with Jessie, but I attributed that to them both being females. I didn't have sisters, so the dynamic of female relationships was lost on me. Then one day she lost it. She'd been having an affair—which is a huge taboo in Were culture—and instead of leaving me, she decided to kill me and the kids." She gasped. Whatever she could have imagined didn't come close to what she was hearing. No wonder Ross was so sad and conflicted. The poor baby. They were all poor babies. "And that's not normal. I can't stress that enough. Mother wolves are awesome. As a rule, they're loving and nurturing. They might not be the most affectionate or indulgent, but they are good to their pups. Tiffany's actions were so heinous she was killed. My mother came and saved the kids while Tiffany's new boyfriend was trying to kill me. Damn it, this all sounds so bad..." "It's okay, get it all out, Scott. If you say it's a fluke, I'll believe you because I can see you're a wonderful father. I'm sure most parents are as loving and generous." He nodded and blew out a deep breath. "Thanks. Anyway, after the big blow up—none of the kids were hurt, thank God—my family backed completely away from us. I was hurt and, honestly, what could I say about Tiffany? She was nuts and if she'd been anyone else's mate, I wouldn't have wanted her near my family. I didn't see the banishment for the rest of us coming." 83
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"Why did they kick you all out?" she asked. "I'd think with the threat gone and all of you needing help that your family would close ranks and help keep you all safe." "I thought so too." His sad smile made her heart clench. He took a long drink of his beer. "My mom and dad came to me in the hospital—" "Hospital? I thought you were super strong." "Yeah, well, the other guy didn't make it, but he took a chunk out of my spine before he finally died." "Oh, Scott." "Anyway, I had to have bolts put in so I could stay upright long enough to heal. While I was in surgery, the pack voted us out. My mom and dad brought the kids to the hospital the morning after the attack and left them with me. Mom said they were tainted and couldn't be trusted within the pack." "Tainted. Oh no." He nodded. "Yep. So they stayed with me in the hospital and after I was well enough to leave, we headed here. There's a pack in Haven, Pennsylvania. They're a good bunch and they're considering us for membership into their pack but, hell, they're in the same boat as our home pack was. If the mental thing is hereditary..." "It could be so many other things," Lucy protested. "Punishing a child for something that might happen is ridiculous. You're better off without those mongrels." "I'd agree most days, but it's hard to be without pack, especially for the young ones. They're so reliant on instinct at this point and they know they should be surrounded by family 84
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and other Weres showing them how to act. They've only got me." No wonder he protected the kids so fiercely and sometimes looked like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. The future of the three kids did and, in his world, if he was gone, they'd have nobody. The foster system for people was cruel and sad at times, but she couldn't imagine what it would be like for a werewolf pup. She reached across the patio table and rested her hand over Scott's. "The kids are so lucky to have you. They know how much you love them and when that's right, everything else lines up, with time." He smiled at her and turned his hand so they were palm to palm. "I heard what Ross said to you. Thanks for being so kind. I think we're all missing nice females in our lives. You're right, I love them and do my best to show it, but when a good female, when one like you is near ... Well, we've never been lucky enough to have a female like you in our lives. You're one in a million, Lucy." He was kind, but he was also wrong. She was just another woman, maybe even a touch on the boring side, but it was nice being liked. She liked them too. "I like your kids, Scott. I'd love to take them to the zoo or something in the next few weeks—wait, is it safe to take werewolf kids around other animals?" He laughed. "Yeah, it's safe enough. They get a little entranced with the small mammal exhibits, but they don't bite or anything. Maybe we could all go together next week if 85
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you've got some time. I'll buy you the ice cream we didn't get the other night." She'd forgotten about their interrupted trip for cold treats. So much had happened in only a few days. "I'm getting the impression that werewolves really like ice cream." His smile turned wicked. "Honey, like all canines, wolves have a thing for treats, the sweeter the better." Why did the look on his face make her feel like she was the next confection on the dessert menu? And why didn't the thought of being eaten by this handsome, wonderful, naughty werewolf scare her like it should have? "Don't worry." He lifted her palm to his mouth for an incredibly chaste kiss. "You'll learn all the little details about us as we go. And if anything comes up, well, you just ask anything your mind wonders about." She swallowed, his touch stealing most of her rational thought and dismissing every other question she'd had about werewolves. "Um. Okay." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 10 Lucy looked around her empty store, and wondered at the change in her life. A month earlier, Scott had been a cranky dad at the play park. Now they were texting several times a day, taking the kids for day trips, and he and the kids were at the shop twice a week for knitting. Even though he was all healed up after being hit, she still spent just as much time at his place and would be back over soon for a barbeque. She checked her watch and wished it was six o'clock already. She was in charge of dessert and she had a cake to pick up from the bakery before they closed. The owner had agreed to stay ten minutes late for her to pick it up, but she didn't want to push beyond ten. A lot of her business was done in the last of hour of the day, so she couldn't leave either. But she sure wanted to. Scott, he was a tricky fella. She grabbed her knitting—socks for Greg—and started working while she thought about the man who constantly dwelled in her mind. She'd been very firm about the friend part of their relationship, and he hadn't pressed her. No, he'd been nothing but friendly in the past few weeks since she'd learned his secret. In fact, he'd become her main friend, even her best friend. That was a little sad, all things considered. To better focus on the yarn shop, she'd settled for acquaintances instead of good friends in the past few years. Scott had wiggled right into 87
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best friend status and he made sure she knew she occupied the same for him. She and Brad had been friends before getting romantic so she absolutely knew friendship first was a wonderful way to start a relationship. At the end of it all, what she missed most with Brad was his friendship. They'd only been married three years, with him deployed for over half of it, so the sexual side of their relationship hadn't matured past hot and fast. They'd talked about where they'd be in ten years and she'd been so excited to see where they were going. Then he'd died and those dreams had died with him. She understood and knew things couldn't be different, but still, she almost wished she had the bigger experience to give her more of a basis for what things could be like with Scott. She wanted to talk with her grandma. Or maybe one of her sisters. Unfortunately, not one of them had had a successful relationship. She had half a dozen foster sisters but most of them had moved on and didn't really check in with her anymore. Lucy had been a last resort for Jennifer when she'd called about the kids. The arrangement had worked out very well and Lucy hoped she would stay in touch. Family was family, she loved them, would do anything for any of the ones in her past, but she'd learned not to expect consistency. Her grandma hadn't expected it either. Scott was different, though. With him, she'd learned what family meant and his version was unique. His family was a bit broken since his wife's illness and betrayal, still his vision and plan of family was probably the one her grandma had started with but had modified out of disappointment and self88
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preservation. Lucy hoped she hadn't become too callous or self-protecting, though she knew in many ways she had. Scott's view on family was changing hers in the best ways. She checked her watch again and cursed. Only ten minutes had passed since she'd checked last. She started turning the heel of the sock, knowing it would take at least ten minutes to work the edge and make the gusset. Then if she had a customer or two, the rest of the hour would fly by. Busy. It could work. She could usually knit for hours and be very content, but after the heel was turned, Lucy started searching out busywork. She vacuumed and sorted the baby yarn into shades, which she never did. The norm was to let it all intermingle and be pretty, but she put like with like to make a rainbow instead. And it only took seven minutes. The bell over the door rang and she hurried to the front, hoping someone needed thirty-six minutes worth of help. "Put your hands up and don't move." Lucy froze, the customer-ready smile on her face locked in place at the order. Recognition sparked when she got a good look at the man holding the gun. He was the one who had hit Scott. He wore a ski mask, but the eyes were the same and his panicked expression was there. The last time she'd seen him, he'd run away from hitting a man—she wasn't in any frame of mind to test him on what he would do with a gun. "I want all the money in the register and all the money in the safe." "I don't have a safe." The words emerged before she thought about how much they might anger him. 89
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"Yeah, right. Empty the damn register now." She hurried, forcing her feet to move when they tried to stay planted to the floor. Her hands shook as she tried to get the register to open. When she'd taken business classes, the instructor had warned about robberies and had recommended the students to be cooperative and nonthreatening. At the time she'd thought for sure she would fight or argue. Faced with real fear she understood not only the advice, but why people followed it. The robber was violating her space. He could have the money if he wanted it, she just wanted him gone. She handed over the money, less than five hundred dollars, and stepped back again, seeing the street clearly. Like when Scott had been hit, there was an inopportune lull in traffic. Of course a police officer couldn't drive by when she really needed one. "Now the safe," he demanded. "I told you I don't have a safe," she said, trying not to panic. "You have all the money in the shop right now." "Bullshit. Take me to the back. You're not going to fuck with me." The back storeroom only held yarn and a heavy back door she couldn't imagine using to make a quick escape. Leaving the main room sounded like suicide, but even as she thought to delay, he cocked the gun. The wild look in his eyes prompted her to move without comment or protest. As they walked, he batted at yarn, pushing over displays and exhibiting so much unnecessary violence Lucy's insides shrank. She was next and the thought solidified when he 90
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roughly grabbed her arm and pushed her to the floor of the stockroom. "Where's the safe?" he demanded. "I don't have one. I only have the yarn and the small fridge back here. I don't do enough business to need a safe." She was babbling, but the words wouldn't stop. He had to understand. "No, damn it," he roared and the huge center shelf she'd spent hours building creaked as it fell, sending hundreds of skeins of yarn to the ground. The shelf itself stopped just above her and she cried out, trying to avoid being crushed by hundreds of pounds of wood and yarn. "I need the money." "I'm sorry," she whimpered, staying low and out of his sight. He seemed to become more irritated every second and the yelling hadn't stopped and neither had the crashing shelves. If he couldn't have more money, it looked like he was going to take his irritation out on the shop. If he'd leave— "Damn it," he swore again and the scent of the bathroom cleaner she used filled the air. "Give me your money or I'm going to trash this place." She peeked up and saw he was already working on destroying it. He poured everything he could find on the yarn around her and the mix steamed ominously. He was going to kill them both. "There's no money. I swear there's no more money. You can have my purse. There's not much cash, but you can have it." 91
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He lifted her by her hair. Chunks ripped out before she found her feet and stumbled along with him to the front. The chemicals he'd mixed permeated the main room and she felt lightheaded. "Get it, now," he ordered. She grabbed the bag from under the counter and shoved it at him. The shop phone started ringing and when she saw Scott's number on the screen, she almost hit her knees. The robber glared at the phone. "It's my boyfriend," she said, forcing the words through her lips. "He knows I'm here and I always answer for him." "Fuck," he said and picked up the phone. He threw it across the room, breaking the phone and the picture it hit as well. She cringed, covering her head and trying once again to stay out of sight. He spent another few minutes destroying the shop and when she thought he'd turn on her, the bell on the door rang and he ran out. Besides her stinging scalp, she wasn't hurt, not a bruise on her. She shook with relief and disbelief. She was fine and could finally get help. When she tried to push up to find her cellphone and make a call for help, dizziness made it imposable for her to walk. She crawled, but the motion made her nauseous. She laid her cheek to the cold hardwood floor. She'd rest for a minute before trying again. Just a minute. ****
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Lucy wasn't answering. Scott tried sending a text, but when she didn't answer that either, he started to worry. He turned off the grill and covered the buns he'd brought out. The kids were in the process of bringing out the other food, but he couldn't shake his bad feeling. "Guys, head to the truck." "Why?" Jessie asked. "Did you forget the ketchup?" "No, I need to go check on Lucy. Hustle." Just the mention of Lucy made everyone rush into action. The kids adored her nearly as much as he did. Driving too fast required all his skills and senses and the kids were silent, not distracting him as if they also shared the feeling of impending something. It couldn't be doom. He'd never be able to associate trouble with Lucy. When he pulled up to the shop, his worst fears were confirmed. Smoke of some kind filled the windows, but it wasn't fire smoke. The painfully astringent scent of chemicals burning together assaulted his nose before he even made it to the door. "Greg, run to the neighbor shop and call the police and fire department. There's a chemical fire in there." The kids didn't know what that meant, but Greg ran and the others stayed in the truck, not needing to be told to stay out of the way. Scott opened the door and when he nearly passed out, he ran back to the truck and grabbed a rag, wrapping it around his face and eyes before attempting the shop again. With so much smoke and chemicals, he had a hard time pinpointing Lucy's scent. When he tripped over her, he'd never been so grateful to fall on his ass. 93
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"Lucy? Lucy!" He didn't wait for an answer, just grabbed her and pulled her out. Police sirens blared as he pulled Lucy to the curb. She was unconscious and barely breathing. He took a deep breath of fresh air and blew it into her mouth. It wasn't CPR but he knew she needed something more than her lungs were getting. "Sir. Sir, what happened here?" a police officer demanded. "I don't know," Scott said, continuing to help Lucy. She took moderately larger breaths, but it wasn't right yet. "She needs an ambulance. She was in the building and it's full of smoke." "We're waiting for the fire department," the officer said. "Is there anyone else in the building?" "I don't think so," Scott replied. "We've got a CPR kit with a respirator." He didn't want to, but he moved aside so the officers could do their jobs, getting Lucy air until the EMTs could take over. After the ambulance arrived, things moved terrifyingly quickly. The fire department had to use something special to contain the chemicals and even though Scott didn't understand what it all meant, he heard loud and clear that the shop would need to be gutted. Everything was destroyed. Even though Lucy had yet to wake up, she was alive and would get better. "Daddy?" Jessie called from the truck as the ambulance pulled away with Lucy in the back. "Is Lucy okay?" 94
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He turned to the truck, hurrying to it with every intention of following his mate. She didn't know her exact place in his life, but he did. He'd known since his first trip to her store and even if he'd been content to give them both loads of time to get to know each other, his plans had changed when her near lifeless body was in his arms. Lucy was his mate, the love of his life, the woman he wanted and right now she was fighting for her life. Scott looked in the rearview mirror, three worried faces watching him and, though they didn't make any noises, each begged for reassurances. "She'll be okay, guys. We're going to follow her to the hospital and make sure." **** She should have been home in bed, but somehow after she'd been pumped full of oxygen and grilled by police about what happened, Scott had stepped in and tucked her in his truck. The doctors had warned her she might have some lingering fatigue, even though her oxygen levels had returned to normal, and the warning had proven true. She'd fallen asleep in the truck and woke in Scott's arms on the way into his house. It had crossed her mind to protest, but it had felt so good to be near him after she'd been sure she'd never see him again. Surrounded by his scent, in his clean, crisp sheets, she wished he was closer. Her shop was a mess—destroyed, according to the police, and she wouldn't be able to clean it for weeks. Even then, she'd have to get someone else to do it because of the chemicals. 95
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Only cleaning solutions—who'd have thought they could do so much damage? She'd learned about the dangers of acids and bases in school, but had never pictured the damage they could do. Thinking about it made her stomach turn, so she put the ugly thoughts away. She wanted Scott back and to lay her head on his chest, just for a little while. "Hey, Lucy. How are you feeling?" Scott was so quiet on his feet, yet his voice never startled her. She looked over and smiled. "Kind of tough." He nodded and walked farther into the room, sitting beside her on the bed. "Yeah, nearly dying will do that." "I suppose you've been there and done that enough times to know." She didn't even bother trying to keep a respectable, friendly distance. His lap was close and she wanted to be closer so she tucked her head on his thigh. "He was the same man who hit you. I told the police about seeing him before and I gave them his license plate number. They said they'd find him. That was probably the scariest thing. I'd already seen him hurt someone without remorse so I knew..." He leaned down with amazing flexibility and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry you were frightened. I wish I'd gotten there sooner." "Nope, you got there just in time," she said, relaxing deeper in his lap. "I wouldn't have wanted you to be hurt by him either." **** Scott wouldn't have been hurt. The bastard with the gun who'd picked on a woman in her knitting shop would have 96
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been the one with many, many injuries. He'd spoken to Chris after he'd been hit by the dickhead and the license plate was a deadend belonging to the guy's elderly grandma in a suburb. Scott almost didn't mind the lack of a trail because it meant finding the bastard would be his job. As things stood, the damage would be delivered soon because, despite the chemicals, Scott had caught the robber's scent. As soon as Lucy was well enough not to need him, he was going hunting. "I've got the kids playing video games until bedtime. It's a big treat since I don't usually let them play during the week," he said. "So you should be able to get some rest." Her grip on his thigh tightened. "You're not going anywhere, are you?" He loved that she didn't want to let him loose, but he hated that it had taken her being afraid to have it happen. She'd been on her way to finding the clinging point in their relationship through loving and laughing. He wished for what they could no longer have. No matter what prompted her behavior, he wasn't about to push her away or discourage her though, not now. Not ever. "Of course not, sweetheart." He ran his fingers through her hair. The nurses had washed it with something abrasive and horrible at the hospital to get the chemical residues out and he missed her usual sunshine scent. He'd have to get her toiletries before bedtime. "I'm here for the night. I set the timer on the game and the kids will head to bed after. They know you need me right now."
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"I don't need—" She stopped abruptly. "I do kind of need you right now. You know how you said werewolves like to be petted? I understand why now." He smiled, realizing he had been petting her. "I'm glad you like it. It is a werewolf thing and I don't think I'd be able to stop even if you asked." "Then I won't ask. Will you lay down with me for a while? I know you can't be tired, but I'm exhausted." Since she'd nearly died, he figured she had every right to be sleepy and even though he only needed a few hours of sleep in a night, he wasn't going to pass up lying beside her. He moved under his blanket, tucking her in as tight to his chest as he could while still allowing her room to breathe. When she sighed happily, he knew he'd found the right spot because his wolf made the same sound. She felt like heaven in his arms. It was a perfect moment despite the proceeding ugliness. He nuzzled her hair, smelling the true Lucy beneath the chemicals and soaps. "This is nice." The arm she had settled on his waist tightened. "I'm not sure how I'm going to get the will to get out of this bed with you in it." "I feel the same way," he admitted, any thought of getting out of bed or leaving her warm body the worst he could imagine. "Go ahead and sleep, honey. I know you're tired. I'll stay and hold you." She sighed. "If anyone can keep the nightmares away, it's a big, not-so-bad wolf. Thanks for bringing me here and caring so much, Scott." 98
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He kissed her hair again, unable to stop himself or even be remotely detached. Once wolves found their mates, things changed inside them. When they fell in love with those mates, like he already had with Lucy, their worlds were completely different. Everything about her mattered to him. He'd learn to knit and learn to enjoy and appreciate it because she liked it. He'd eat her attempts at meals without complaint and keep on cooking duties with pleasure because it made her happy. Unlike with Tiffany, though, he didn't feel bitter because of the change. The relationship with his first mate had often felt one-sided. He'd dealt with it and would have been moderately happy had she not turned violent. With Lucy, though, 'moderate' would never describe his happiness. He knew she would shine all of his love right back to him and make the same shifts in her life to make him happy. Mates in love couldn't do anything less. "You are always, always welcome here, Lucy. If I had my way, you'd never be farther away from me than my arms could reach." "That's so intense," she muttered, snuggling her nose to his chest. "I really like it." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 11 Scott woke up being kissed. Soft lips glided up his neck to his jaw in innocent bites of affection. Lucy had fantastic lips, ones he'd dreamed about kissing many times since they'd met, but he hadn't indulged. He'd been sure the time would come and he'd never been happier to be right. She hadn't even neared his lips, yet each press felt nicer than the last. If not for the three pups laying at their feet—probably escaping Lucy's notice—his whole body would be aflame. As it was, he held very tight to his control to stay appropriate. Her little kiss changed to a tiny lick and he was ready to boot the kids out of the room. "You taste good." "Oh damn," he muttered, finally pulling her face to face. The teasing was fine, it was wonderful and welcome, but if they were going to have to stop soon—and they would—he was going to satisfy at least a piece of his desires. She shouldn't taste so good, he thought as his tongue plunged into her mouth. After a full night sleeping, she shouldn't taste like fresh sunshine and flowers, but she did. Every kiss and lick, every innocent touch to his waist by her hands cemented what he knew. She was his mate and they were going to spend the rest of their lives making each other very, very happy. "Mmm, Scott," she murmered against his lips and then froze. "What's wrong?" he asked, kissing the edges of her lips. 100
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"Are the kids in bed?" she asked in the barest of whispers. He smiled, the horror and embarrassment in her voice absolutely adorable. "They started trickling in about three AM." She pushed him away, but he only let her go about an inch. "You shouldn't have been letting me kiss you," she hissed. "It's sweet." Scott jumped at Jessie's observation and, though he'd assumed they were all sleeping, when he looked down, he realized he was very wrong. Three little faces propped up on their fists gazed at them with happy, sleepy expressions. "Hey, guys." "Hi, Daddy." "Um." Lucy, completely dressed, pulled the blanket higher, covering herself to the neck. "Did you guys need something?" "Nope," Greg said. "We came to check on you and then got sleepy. Daddy doesn't mind if we crash at the foot of the bed sometimes." "Yeah," Jessie said. "Then you kissed Daddy and it was really nice. He needs kisses." Daddy needed to get a lock for his door, Scott thought, but smiled at his pups anyway. "We can make breakfast," Ross offered. "Do you like cereal, Lucy? Or do you need water or something?" Pride filled Scott. Werewolf males weren't always known for being nurturers, but his boys already showed a level of compassion it had taken years of trial and error for him to find. 101
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"A glass of water sounds really good, Ross. Thanks." Both boys jumped to their feet and scrambled out of the room, shoving over who was going to actually bring Lucy the water. Jessie left them to their silliness and crawled up between him and Lucy. She'd never done that with her mother because the shewolf had forbidden it. Lucy just readjusted. "I like you here, Lucy. I wish you hadn't gotten hurt. You can stay even when you feel better. Daddy won't mind." Lucy laughed, real humor and not the awkward kind that could have presented at being called out by a small child about being in bed with their father. "Isn't that a wonderful invitation," she said. "But you know how it is with grownups, Jessie, it takes a lot of time to make big family decisions. We're definitely good friends, like I'm friends with you and your brothers too." Jessie frowned and Scott felt a moment of panic. Whatever his daughter was about to say might not be what Lucy needed to hear at the moment. "Jessie—" "You're Daddy's mate," Jessie said, ignoring him. "You two smell like mates and he smells like you more all the time and you smell like him too." Jessie took a big breath near Lucy's neck, the same place where he'd spent the night nuzzling, indeed transferring his scent to her and taking hers on himself as well. It was the natural next step in the courting process between werewolves, but he'd left out a few details when he'd explained about mating. He wasn't sure how she'd react when 102
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she realized he'd been branding her against other werewolves and in turn doing the same to himself to ward off interested females. "Oh." Over Jessie's head, she looked at him with wide eyes. "Is that so? Well, I suppose it's because we've spent so much time together lately. Things like mating and marriage and love take time and respect, not just smells." "That's not what my grandma said. She said—" "Jessie, go help your brothers with the cereal." "But—" "Baby, please go help your brothers. Lucy and I are going to get dressed and we'll be out in a few minutes." Jessie nodded and scrambled out of the room, even closing the door behind her. Scott got up and dug in his dresser for a pair of sweats for Lucy to wear. He wanted her comfortable. Maybe she'd want a shower and— "So, I think we need to talk about mates again because it sounds like I'm missing a few details." Why the hell had he thought he could avoid the question? He pulled out sweatpants and a sweatshirt. The morning was cool and he hoped by the time it warmed up, they could run to her house and get her some fresh clothes. He turned to her and found her waiting. "Mates, right. What Jessie was saying is only one piece. The other things I said are true. It is a voluntary commitment. It's similar to marriage, but better because where marriage can be looked at as legal by some people, or even religious by some, to us, mating changes us down to our blood. At least it does if the mating is right." 103
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"Right, and the smell thing?" She sat up and fingercombed her hair. "The smell thing is how we recognize our mates. It's not a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. We can run into multiple females who smell 'right', I guess you could say. Other things, like compatibility, aren't ignored because they smell good." "What do I smell like?" He hadn't expected her question, but it was better than what she could have asked. He grinned and walked closer, taking a long, slow sniff of her neck. She giggled and swatted at him, The giggles broke the tension and he finished abolishing the stiffness with a long lick to her cheek. "You, my dear human, smell like sunshine and fresh cotton. And sweet, I can't get over how completely delicious you smell. Even when you're mad or upset, it's like you're coated in patience and sugar—those things aren't the norm for werewolves. Hell, it's not very often you find that kind of combination in any species, but you've got it." "And now you smell like that too?" she asked. "Well, maybe a little," he admitted. "You're right about the time part of it. The more time we spend together, logically, the more our scents will mingle. With mated couples it's different. The scent goes deeper, it intermingles and eventually becomes one until you can recognize a mated couple even though they are thousands of miles away from each other, just by their shared scent." She looked thoughtful a moment and he was relieved the revelation hadn't angered her. He didn't want her stressing 104
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about the mating stuff. Her being in the dark about the whole thing was probably best. Without other werewolves around, it wasn't like the fact smacked her in the face everyday anyway. "So are we mated, Scott? Did you do something I didn't know about to make us mated?" Shit. There was no answering without either telling a truth she might not be ready for or without bald-faced lying. Not that he had anything against lying when it fit the situation, but lying to Lucy screamed 'horrible idea' on all fronts. "Well—" She pushed to her feet, too short to be face-to-face with him, but she certainly was in his space. "Oh my gosh. You tell me right now we're not mated or whatever you silly werewolves do." "Well—" "Don't you dare 'well' me again. Give me an answer, Scott." She was so hot when she was ticked off. "All right. I'll explain. If another werewolf came to town and passed by you, he might assume you were mated. You do have the scent of a werewolf mate. Just like if a female came to town and got near me, she might assume I was mated by my scent." "Assume?" she asked, eyes narrow. "Right. Like if you wore a ring on your left hand, people would assume you were married, but that doesn't necessarily make it true." He tucked a piece of her hair away from her face, careful to keep his hand gentle because he could smell the edge of pain she still carried. 105
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"Honestly, Lucy? If I had my way, you would already be my mate. Werewolves know when things are right. With Tiffany, things were right for many years, but we changed when she started having mental problems. Those are so rare in werewolves that none of us realized what was wrong until it was too late. The two of us dated a week before deciding to formalize our mating. I know you're human and you've got different expectations and experiences. I'm very willing to take my time. But, if you decided to be my mate right this minute, we'd be really happy together." "You just know?" she asked, her eyes once again narrow in suspicion, but his answer was as easy as pie. "I just know." "It wouldn't matter that I spend a huge chunk of my time working and can't cook to save my life? Or that I haven't had sex in over four years and haven't put any thought into having a relationship in those years?" He shrugged. "What do you want me to say, Lucy? That I'd put conditions and boundaries on how I'd love you? I'm sorry if others did, but in my world, love is different. You take the good with the bad, you embrace it all and if you always burn the bacon, I don't care because I'm perfectly capable of making enough to share with you. It doesn't bother me that you haven't been with a man in a while, just like it doesn't bother me that you were married—okay, that bothers me a little. I wish I could be coming to you without a past. I wish you were coming to me that way too, but I'll take it all if you'll let me." 106
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She looked unconvinced. He hoped she was starting to at least get a picture of what mating and family meant to him. Her grandmother sounded like an amazing woman and it sounded like she'd done a lot of good in her years. Unfortunately, her upbringing had left Lucy with a few family scars. She didn't get terribly close, she'd give, yet never expected reciprocation. In her marriage, she'd probably been able to keep a measure of distance, especially if her husband had been away. Those were things she'd learn to change with him. "And I'd take you on just the way you are? With twins on the edge of puberty and an inquisitive little girl? Your long hours, your whole wolf thing?" "And don't forget after I work a double, my feet smell horrible," he added, putting a cheerful note at the end. "I'll hit the showers with my shoes on so it doesn't bother you. Just like you see things as flaws on you, I'm not perfect. I'll never pretend to be, but I know having you love me will make me better." Her breath caught a little at the confession and he wasn't sure but he thought she might have said 'love'. He forgot sometimes how human she was and that she couldn't smell and see emotion on him like shewolves could. He'd learned with the kids how much words mattered, since the little ones needed to be taught what love and affection—the good kinds—looked like. He'd foolishly set that wisdom aside with Lucy. "Love is important," he said quietly, crouching slightly so he was eye to eye with her, looking as deeply into her soul as 107
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he could. "And I know you might think it's too soon, but I'll let you in on a secret. Even if your mind is still deciding, the rest of you already shows you love me. The way you look at me, the way you respond and turn into me when we're together, those things already give you away. I've been trying to show you how much I care in my ways. When you're ready for the words, I've got them, Lucy. I'm trying to respect your human nature and not overwhelm you." He thought he was fast, but Lucy surprised him, launching into his arms with no warning. She didn't kiss him, just held him tight, but it was enough. If she'd been pissed at the announcement, she would have walked away. Instead, she was trying to burrow herself under his skin and if it were within his power, he'd have had a special pocket made for her. She was little—he could spend the rest of his life carrying her without complaint. "I'm not ready to be a mate or whatever, but I guess I don't mind that I smell like you." He bit back a chuckle. The admission would be absurd to anyone else. To him it was wonderful. "That works for me." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 12 She had to stay busy. Her apartment was impossibly clean and now she was tackling Scott's place while he and the kids were out. Lucy set aside her scrub brush and sat on her butt on the already swept and mopped floor. Cleaning wasn't something she usually enjoyed. In fact, she hired someone else to do it for her every chance she got, but with the shop a complete mess and nothing she could do about it, the urge to clean other things had bombarded her. Scott had told her not to go overboard—unfortunately 'overboard' had long passed. She figured when she'd scrubbed and disinfected the ceiling fans she'd lost it. The floor was another testimony of her impulse. The scrub brush was within reach but she had to stop before she wore holes in Scott's linoleum. Inactivity was killing her. She rested her head against her arms. Her apartment had been shockingly short of yarn and knitting projects, most of her best tools and supplies lost in the shop, so she'd gone the day before to a craft store to restock a few of her personal things. The trip had been a nightmare and a half. The yarns hadn't been right, the tools compared to hers had been all wrong and she'd ended up running out like a crazy woman after only a few minutes. That's when the cleaning spree had started. The locks on the main door turned, followed by the sounds of the door opening. A long, low whistled emerged. "Lucy, where are you? You didn't do all of this, did you?" 109
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Busted. She sighed, lifted her hand high and waved it, exhaustion settling in. Scott rounded the kitchen's short island and stood above her, shaking his head. He'd been at work since before dawn. She liked helping out with the kids, so she'd driven them all to their activities so he could start early and finish early as well. Maybe if she'd gone and picked up the kids and taken them to the park or something, she could have looked less crazy. As it was, there were three empty bottles of cleansers on the counter and, well, she'd taken down all the curtains to wash so there was no denying the changes. "It looks good in here," he said slowly, like he was trying to find a nice way to address her bizarre behavior. "I certainly didn't expect this kind of cleaning, sweetie. The kids and I would have been happy to help with this big of a project." She looked up and couldn't stop her lips from kicking up in a tiny smile. He looked so darn handsome in the dark slacks and dress shirt he wore for work. There was a certain amount of mob-thug aura about him, but she thought that was probably his strength and confidence showing through the fussy clothes. He filled them out well and she hoped he didn't mind extra starch in his shirts, because she'd spent an hour ironing earlier in the day. He squatted before her, putting them face to face like he knew she might not be up to standing for a while. "Having a little breakdown, beautiful?" She sighed. She'd tried very hard not to indulge her crazy impulses. His former mate had succumbed to mental illness 110
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and she didn't want him to worry. It was stress making her a little off. She wished she'd been stronger. "I think so," she admitted. "I tried not to. I think once I'm actually able to get into the shop and have some real dates to plan around, I'll be better. In the meantime, though, all the waiting was getting to me." He nodded. "When I was waiting to hear about if we'd been accepted into Chris's pack or not, I baked fifteen dozen cookies. Most of them were chocolate chip." Laughing wasn't appropriate, but picturing the big, tough Scott with an apron, surrounded by cookies, made her smile. "And then did you eat them?" "Nope. I was too freaked out and on edge to actually consume any. I ended up sending most of them to the kids' events. I'm not trying to make light of anything, but I do know what it's like to feel the helpless way you do right now." She waved his words away. She'd lost her shop. Scott had lost his entire family. If she were thinking straight, she'd have seen the difference and been grateful for all the wonderful, positive things still left in her life. "Don't belittle your loss, Luce," he said before she actually voiced her thoughts. "I know you're a positive person and know the yarn and stuff can be replaced, but that was your space. It was violated and it won't ever be the same again. No one's going to tell you not to be sad over that—especially not me. Maybe we could find a better use for all this nervous energy." "I don't want to go run around the trees in the park, Scott." 111
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He laughed, but she knew him. Exercise was fine and dandy, but she wasn't a werewolf and what she needed was to be useful. Her grandma always said if there was too much in one life getting a person down, then it was time to help someone else. Maybe she'd volunteer somewhere for a while. Stocking at the food pantry or delivering meals was less crazy than re-washing an already disinfected floor. "I don't think running around the trees will do it for you. How about we put up the cleaning stuff for the time being and head to the grocery store? I've been putting off my big trip and I could use a hand pushing the second cart." She looked up at his earnest face. He really didn't think she was crazy, and like he said, he understood what she needed. She'd never had such deep understanding between her and another person before. Her grandma had expected her to pull her weight and do good things. She'd needed her to be a good girl and because it was in her nature, Lucy never had a problem with those expectations. Brad, while they'd been dating and during their brief marriage, had attempted to take care of her on occasion. It had been hard for her to let him, but he'd tried and she'd thought it was incredible. Scott, though, he seemed to recognize the line she walked when it came to helping others. She'd rather serve than be served, yet she needed a break and she needed help. He was giving her an out without making her feel like she was going against her nature. "You can pick out the tea and stuff you like since I know you don't like what I picked out last time." 112
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"What you chose is just fine." She stopped herself when he raised his eyebrow. Darn werewolf nose, he could smell her fib. "Okay, maybe it's not my favorite, but the thought in this case went a very long way." "So you'll come with me and help me get the thought and action in line?" Lucy looked around. She really didn't want to finish scrubbing the clean floor and the curtains were already ironed and weren't going anywhere. "I'll even throw in a milkshake," he said. She was sold and he must have known it because he smiled. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his upturned lips. "Okay, handsome. I'll help with the shopping and we can put the curtains up when we get back." He nodded. "Sounds great. Let's go." **** The clerks always gave him looks when he shopped, but Scott had stopped caring about those years ago. Lucy didn't seem to mind either. She'd told him about her experience buying groceries in bulk with her grandmother, so carts filled to overflowing were nothing new to her. He didn't have a list because they pretty much needed everything besides beef— that, he bought by the half-cow from the butcher. But in the last few weeks, with him being hurt first and then Lucy being over, they'd gone through a lot of food. He liked how she didn't bat an eyelash when he asked her to grab five tubs of oats. 113
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"Planning on making more cookies?" she asked, the teasing quality of her voice the stuff he'd hoped to hear with a change of location. "Maybe some oatmeal raisin ones," he said. "That actually sounds really good. Now, what kind of cereal do you like? I know corn flakes aren't your favorite." "Oh, you don't have to get anything special for me," she replied. "I'm happy to eat whatever you and the kids eat." He hated when she did that. There was a lot to be said about being selfless, but there was no damn reason for her to feel like she couldn't have a say. He wanted her to pick stuff out and make a mark on his home. It wouldn't be easy for her, not with her ever-giving nature. He didn't necessarily want to try to change her, but he was pretty sure he could help her see the difference between being giving and not ever choosing. "How about the marshmallow things?" He plucked a box from the plethora of possibilities. "Those are fine," she replied with a bright smile. "Do you like them?" She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Scott. I know you probably need to grab ten boxes to make it through the week, just pick what you like and I'll nibble if I'm at the house." "But I want to have exactly what you want and how do I know if you don't tell me?" he countered. "Unless I buy one of each kind and sit you down and have you try each and make notes, I could make the tea blunder again and that would be unacceptable. I'll buy them all unless you speak up, Lucy." "You're being silly." 114
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He shrugged and started grabbing boxes. "That's part of being mates, sweetheart. You know that need you have to take care of every person you meet? Well, when it comes to wolves and their mates and pups, that feeling is quadrupled. We can do this the easy way or the hard way." "It's cereal, you crazy man. It doesn't matter what I like." "Everything you like matters." She didn't say anything for a long moment and Scott used the quiet to continue filling his cart with cereal. If she doubted his sincerity, she was soon going to learn that when it came to her, there was no limit on how far he was willing to go to make her everyday life good. Maybe if he and Tiffany had started their mating bending over backward for each other instead of bending each other over every flat surface they could find, he would have noticed the change in her and recognized her need for help. "I think this is really silly, but since you're insisting on being weird, I like the kind with graham crackers." Progress. Sweet, sweet progress. Scott put the box of bran something back on the shelf and took down a big box of the cereal she preferred. "This one?" "Yes, I like that one," she said. "I can even use it to make bars. They are the only thing in my recipe collection anywhere near edible." "Then I'll get two." She helped him pick out several other kinds of breakfast goodies but before they headed to the next aisle, she blocked his cart with hers. The store was relatively quiet, the lull before the post-workday shopping storm Scott's favorite time 115
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to shop. Lucy's eyes narrowed and though she didn't smell angry or suspicious, she sure looked at least the latter. "I know what you're doing." He wasn't busted yet. "Oh? What's that?" "You're trying to butter me up for all the mate stuff," she said. "I'm only telling you this once—I don't need the special handling or whatever this is. I want you to treat me now like you plan to treat me in ten years if we're still together. Dating was always a turn-off for me because I always felt like the other person was wearing a mask of some kind—putting on a front until they got to know me better. I don't do that and I don't want you to either, Scott." She had thought about dating, just hadn't liked it. Which meant her spending time with him was doubly special. They had something, he knew it, she knew it and now they had to line up all their shared knowledge into something worth being too overcome with passion to discuss rationally. A woman turned the corner in front of them, forcing Lucy and Scott to move their carts. Not any woman, Scott noticed immediately, a shewolf. The female perked up at the sight and scent of him and though Scott hoped she'd keep walking, he knew that wasn't the werewolf way. She sauntered closer, the intense sexuality of an unmated female something she couldn't tamp down and this one didn't even try. Where a human would have hurried by with her shopping list in mind, the shewolf stopped in front of Scott, separating him from Lucy. She at least attempted to look casual, reaching for a box of granola bars behind him to catch a 116
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better scent. Scott saw the look on Lucy's face and she was far from impressed. Good. "Excuse me?" Lucy demanded, not nearly the retiring flower Scott saw most days. "We're having a conversation here. If you want to get something, we'll move, but you need to back away from my boyfriend right now." Boyfriend. The day just kept getting better. The shewolf rolled her eyes so Scott could see. He made it very clear he had no interest in walking away from his human in favor of a quick screw with a wolf, even if she was goodlooking. "Fine." The shewolf shrugged, but winked at the last moment, a continued invitation should he choose to indulge. The East Coast had some bloodline problems and was always looking for new wolves. It was part of the reason Chris Meyters hadn't booted him from the area. Finding someone who smelled right was something most single wolves strived for and he couldn't exactly blame her for the lingering offer. He wouldn't fault her, but he sure as hell wasn't going to follow her either. "She's a werewolf, isn't she?" Scott froze and, though the shewolf was halfway down aisle, she too stopped in her tracks. Not wanting to indulge in a bitchfight in the cereal aisle where humans milled nearby, Scott hustled Lucy out of sight from the shewolf. "Ah, yeah, she's a werewolf," Scott confirmed, keeping his voice low. "What tipped you off?" 117
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Lucy shot an ugly look toward the aisle they'd come from. "I don't know. Something about her just ... and what a slut. Are all werewolf women sluts? Because that one is a slut and needs to be smacked." Scott grabbed pudding cups and fruit snacks quickly, hoping to put as much distance between Lucy and the werewolf as possible. He didn't think the female would attack in a grocery store, but he wasn't willing to bet on it. And the slut stuff, where was that coming from? Usually his Lucy had the sweetest mouth on her. Now she looked absolutely pissed and though he was flattered, he figured he had to be missing something. "Maybe go easy on the slut stuff, honey. She wasn't being forward or anything as far as Weres go. Weres and humans don't usually hook up, so she might have assumed we were friends or something." "Oh, so you're saying Jessie wasn't right about us already smelling like mates?" Lucy demanded, maybe too firmly. Then it hit him: she was worried and instead of retreating this time like she usually did, letting worry fester, she'd gone on the offensive. It was pretty awesome that she'd chosen to fight for him, but in regard to his fidelity, he didn't want her to worry—not ever. He abandoned his cart beside the soup mixes and stepped closer than was grocery store-appropriate and wrapped his arms around Lucy's waist. She'd had a lot of change, indecision and uncertainty in her life lately. He wasn't going to add to it. "We do smell like a pair working their way up to a mating," he said, rubbing his nose to hers, though she remained stiff in 118
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his arms. "However, there's a big difference between 'mated' and 'working our way to it' for some Weres. Not for me, no, ma'am, I'd never lead you on without full intentions of following through, but that other gal, she didn't know." "Do I need to tattoo something on your forehead for her and the other werewolves to see we're together?" He bit back a grin. He loved seeing her so territorial. Tiffany had always taken his fidelity for granted. He'd done the same with her, but Lucy once again showed she was different. "Do you trust me, baby?" He wanted her to mark her space, as long as that was all it was—marking and not insecurity. She sighed and finally rubbed her nose to his, brushing her lips across his. "It's not about trust, Scott. I know what kind of man you are. It's the whole werewolf society, I guess. I don't know what to expect or what's normal and I apologize if I overreacted." He kissed her, easing his tongue between her lips for a moment of more than innocent and reassuring affection. "I'll try to be better about explaining to you, so you don't feel threatened again. Lucy, you're it for me. There's no one else, Were or human, I'd rather make out in the grocery store with. I'm happy as hell to wait on other aspects of our relationship because I know you need more time to really know me and us. Once that comes together, the scents really do completely change." "Oh." 119
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She sounded let down and he hoped she didn't think he was pushing her into giving more than she was ready for. They were right where they needed to be in their courtship. When the rest came together, they'd be explosive. He wasn't willing to rush their moment for anything. "How about for the time being we forgo matching forehead tattoos and trust each other, okay? Maybe in a few months, we could get some matching jewelry or something," he offered. Weddings mattered to humans. To wolves, not so much, but he figured rings would be reassuring to Lucy and he didn't mind wearing one for her. It would be nice to have all the bases covered—sight and scents—to keep others away. "Eventually," she said and kissed his nose. "In the meantime, talk me down before I do something horrid like attack an innocent werewolf in the cereal aisle." He laughed and gave her one last kiss when he realized they were attracting a crowd getting more than an eyeful of baking products. "Sounds good. Be a nice little human the rest of the trip and I'll still buy you your milkshake." She smiled and, back to the practical woman she usually was, started loading up her cart with pudding. Scott returned to his cart and followed her, sure he'd taken the right step in his future. **** Lucy sighed and wished she'd stayed at Scott's house instead of returning to her apartment, but after the whole 120
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'slut' incident, she'd been embarrassed. He hadn't teased her or anything. Still, she'd overreacted. Tracing her finger around the rim of her wineglass, she wondered what it was about him that made her act like, well, an animal at moments. She never insulted people, let alone to their faces or so venomously. There was never a reason for such ugly behavior and she'd honestly believed that for nearly every moment of her life. In fact, she hadn't indulged in something so childish since she was a hormonal, angry teenager and even those incidents had been tame compared to her behavior at the store. The difference was Scott. She'd seen that woman, all tall and skinny and darkly beautiful, lean toward him and she'd seen red. In her mind, she'd already put her stamp on him. The whole mating issue had seemed to her like an automatic branding. Being wrong had been a shock. She'd overestimated what it all meant. After Scott had explained it more, she'd seen that while the relationship felt like more to her and obviously meant more to him, the outward signs weren't precisely clear to others. How much easier would it have been if things had been a done deal? Did she really want life to be simple? She sighed again and propped her feet on the chair across from her. Maybe she did want what she had with Scott to be easy. Nothing else in her life seemed to ever take that label. Being with him and loving him had become effortless. For how complicated their relationship should have been, with his kids 121
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and her own history, the ease was something she'd taken for granted or maybe attributed to the 'mate' explanation. Scott had cleared up the misunderstanding, though. Being mates didn't make life easier—it just meant they were chemically aligned to be fertile together. After Scott explained, she'd realized something very big—she'd been attributing too much to the mating and not nearly enough to the wonderful man. She tried not to over-think what it all meant. Scott had in fact told her outright not to do that before she left, but it was impossible. The revelation of her affection for Scott made her sad for the way she'd been with Brad. They'd been happy enough. In retrospect, she wondered where they would be if he were still alive. He'd died before they'd ever really gotten into the meat and bones of their marriage. She'd loved him, but she wasn't sure if they'd have lasted. He'd been a kind man. She took a sip of her wine, also very sweet, and smiled. Brad had sent her twenty dozen flowers in their thirty-six months together. When there hadn't been flowers, there had been candy and cards just because he was thinking of her. It had been her first taste of being spoiled. At first she'd been uncomfortable and discouraged him, but during their time dating and after his deployment, the little trinkets and pretty gifts had continued. She smiled again at the memory of daisies showing up at their apartment. Maybe they would have been okay in the long term. Brad had displayed more of a backbone than she'd realized before they married and his strength had shown in small ways. Small, adorable, endearing ways. 122
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It had been too long since she'd really thought about Brad objectively. The anniversary of his death had been a time to remember and place flowers on his grave. Now, she could think about the good times too and they had shared those wonderful moments—moments he'd made by encouraging her to let go and enjoy life. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as bad as she'd thought when it came to relationships. Perhaps she was a natural when she found the right man to love. Maybe ... maybe she needed to put the wine away and go to bed. The phone rang and, feeling a little loose from fatigue, her long shower and wine, she knew she shouldn't answer. She picked up her cell and looked at the caller name. Scott. She really should let it go to voicemail. "Hello, handsome." "I love how you say that," he said and she settled deeper into the uncomfortable kitchen chair to listen to him talk. "Are you feeling all right, honey? I know today was a little weird and I wanted to see..." "See if I was crying in my graham cereal?" she offered. "Or drowning your troubles in Riesling." She laughed. "I'm just finishing my second modest glass of a very delightful vintage with plans of heading to my bed very shortly. I'm fine, though, I promise." "Not still down about the shop or out to tackle anymore shewolves?" "Well, I'll be down about the shop for a while, but I got a message from the cleaning company. They should be finished by the end of the week, so that's encouraging. I think the not 123
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knowing was getting to me. Having more of a plan in mind helps me focus. And wolves ... I'm thankful she didn't jump me in the parking lot." "Aw, I'd have protected you, darling. And you let me know when you need help getting the heavy things done at the shop. Me, Jessie and the boys are looking forward to helping you get everything back up and running. Greg is hoping for some new socks for Christmas and figures you'll need your shop back together to be in the mood to knit again." She'd make him all the socks he wanted. Some really nice blue yarn she'd passed over the day before came to mind. She'd been too out of sorts to buy it, but she could make another trip with a clear head. Making the kind, thoughtful boy another pair would be an honor. "That's incredibly thoughtful. You're a wonderful father, Scott. Tell the kids I said goodnight." "I will. They all said to tell you goodnight and invited you to stay over again whenever you want. Their dad seconds that last request." Lucy took the last sip of her wine and couldn't stop the sappy feeling bubbling up inside her. "I'm sure I'll find my way over before long. I mean, you do have my favorite tea and cereal over there now and all of my favorite people happen to be there too ... Those are some strong incentives to visit." He was quiet a long moment and Lucy hoped he took her words the right way. He was one of those favorite people. She was about to say so when he cleared his throat. 124
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"This happens to be my favorite place too, with all my favorite things and foods and smells and people. All but one anyway. The sooner you're back, or at least the sooner we're all together again, the better. I'll let you get to bed though. Take some Tylenol so you don't wake with a headache." "I will," she promised. "Sleep well, okay? Maybe have a nice wolfie dream about me? One that gets your paws twitching?" He laughed and she smiled. They didn't need to end every conversation on a heavy, thoughtful note. In fact, she hoped they could end every conversation laughing and wanting more. "Yes, ma'am. And you feel free to have one of those dreams about me too. Goodnight, Lucy." "Goodnight." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 13 It was so empty. The shop, her home away from home, embodied none of the wonderful feelings she'd once garnered within its walls. Lucy tried to bolster her heart with positive thinking so it wouldn't break. The cleaning crew had done a fantastic job, but the yarn had been unsalvageable. The equipment had also retained the scent of chemically burned yarn, so they'd taken the wooden shelves out as well. Insurance covered the loss with only a minimal deductable, so she knew the shelves would be replaced and beautiful yarns would one day sit on them. In the meantime, her beautiful shop was nothing but hardwood floors and barren metal racks. "Knock knock." Lucy turned at the voice and bit back a sigh. She'd hoped to indulge in a pity party, at least a little one, but Carol and Susan were smiling and Lucy forced one as well. "Hi, girls. Well, as you can see, the shop is a bit out of stock at the moment, but I'm happy to see you as always." "Oh, Lucy." Carol hugged her tight, the older woman surprising her with the embrace. "I am so sorry this happened to you. This seems so tiny now compared to what you have to replace and do here, but Susan and I brought you something to maybe get things going again." The little girl beside her mother had two big gift bags in her hands and a shy smile on her face. "I'm really sad about the shop. I hope it'll be nice again." 126
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Lucy ruffled her hair. "It will be very nice. Now what did you bring me? As you can see, whatever you happen to have is something I'm sure to need." "I hope you like it." Susan handed her the bags. They were surprisingly heavy and when Lucy set them on the only remaining surface, her miraculously unscathed checkout counter, her breath caught. "Oh, Carol. They're gorgeous." "Well, I remember you had prints on the wall of Monica's work," Carol said, obvious joy on her face. "And last month I took her on as one of my clients. When I told her how much you love her stuff and how you'd lost everything, she made these special, just for you." Lucy pulled the paintings out with shaking hands. They weren't very big, but they were beautiful. Mauves and cranberry colors mixed with browns to depict the charming painting. A woman and young girl were knitting together, the child on the woman's lap, with a warm fire in the corner. It resembled a print she'd hung on the first day she opened the shop, only this was hand-painted and original. It was more than Lucy had ever imagined would grace her walls. "Check the other one too," Carol said. "I gave Monica an idea of what you liked and what you were like and she came up with the second one. I was blown away. I am so happy to give it to you. I'm having her paint another to go to prints." She'd never felt objects deserved tears, but when Lucy pulled the tissue paper away from the second painting, her eyes burned. It was so detailed and charming and even 127
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though the artist had never been to her shop, she'd added details that embodied her space. The wooden tables and happy faces warmed the canvas. Projects of all colors and sizes were lovingly set in baskets, waiting for the people in the picture to return to them. Across the back wall, clotheslines were stretched with different items pinned up, like she'd done and planned to do again. And there was green. Monica didn't use the tone often, but Lucy loved to knit with all shades of it. Grass green socks and dark forest green sweaters hung on the lines, their knitted detail amazingly done in paints. "Oh, Carol. I can't ... I can't even begin to tell you how much I love these." "We can't tell you how much we've appreciated everything you've done for us," Carol said and when Lucy looked up, there were tears in her eyes as well. "Susan and I were drifting apart before we found your class. You didn't let us separate and you made us sit together and be quiet together as much as you had us talk. I know it was only knitting classes but, Lucy, there is something about you and your patience that makes them something more and I hope you'll be in a place to offer them soon." She'd never once thought about her knitting class as so important. If it meant so much to Carol and Susan, then for sure it would be one of the first things she started again. She looked at the paintings, already picturing how they would look on the walls between her new shelves and baskets. "These are so beautiful and I promise I'll have the class back up and running as soon as I've got chairs and yarn." 128
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"Good." Carol hugged Susan to her side, both smiling. "And in the meantime, we'll keep working on our last projects. We'll be expecting something spectacular for the Christmas season." "I'll add that to my list," Lucy promised. "Something special to knit for two lovely ladies. I can't thank you enough for these." Carol waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you like them. Now, we're off to do some grocery shopping. I know a few other artists, so let me know if you need more paintings or anything. I can get them for you at a really good price." "You're wonderful. Thanks again. And thank you too, Susan." "You're welcome." Lucy waved until the mother and daughter duo passed from view and then she ran to the paintings. They were unbelievable and she already had the perfect places in mind. She'd loved her knitting prints, but these, they were so pretty. She automatically reached under the counter to grab her toolbox, but it had been thrown out, the metals of the tools corroding in the chemical fog. Not deterred, she grabbed her phone instead. "Hello, pretty lady." "Hi, Scott. Is there any chance you and the kids could come by the yarn shop tonight and help me put a few things together? Pizza's on me." He'd known she was going into the shop for the first time after it was completely cleaned and he'd confessed to being 129
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worried about her. He hadn't wanted her to go alone, but she'd needed to. With her determination renewed, she was ready to take the next steps in making the yarn shop better than it ever was. Putting it together with him and the kids seemed like the perfect first step in starting over. "We can do that," he said slowly. "You're doing okay?" "I'm doing great. I'm going to make a few calls and get shelves here for tonight and baskets and I need to get internet access back and bring my laptop in so I can order online too." He laughed. "Okay, so you are doing fine. What, besides the kids, should I bring?" "You know what? I feel like celebrating. If you wouldn't mind grabbing a bottle of wine, I'll get some juice boxes for the kids. Oh, and tools. Could you bring your tools?" "Champagne and tools, I can handle those." "Good. Then I'll see you soon." She hung up after their goodbyes and looked around the room with new eyes. The yarn shop would never be the same, but it could be better. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 14 "Daddy. I smell him." Scott froze. He'd smelled the bastard who'd burned Lucy's shop for two blocks, but he hadn't expected any of the kids to notice. Holding his hand, Jessie stared at an apartment across from the yarn shop. They'd had to park on the other block because of moving trucks, but he'd thought to use the time to get a bead on the robber He held tight to his daughter as new energy hummed from her tiny body. He'd had plans of returning after dark. His little girl, with her amazing nose, had covered a big portion of his hunting plans by finding their prey. "He's in the building across the street, isn't he, Jess?" She nodded, her eyes narrow with anger. "Yep. I wanna tear his throat out." He held tight to her hand, not expecting her to run, but not discounting the possibility either. The first time instinct struck so hard, it could be impossible to resist. "We're not going to do that." He kept his voice very calm. The boys must have finally realized something was happening, because they stopped moving around and stared at the building across the street as well. "All of you are going to come with me and we're going to have dinner with Lucy, remember?" "He pulled her hair." Jessie tugged once against his grip, but not hard enough to break his hold. 131
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"And I'm going to take care of him later," he promised, taking a step to the side so he could grab Greg if he needed to. "You know I will, guys. Your instinct to help Lucy is great, but you've got to let me handle it." "Are you going to rip his throat out and throw it on the floor?" Jessie asked. He bit back a grin, liking how bloodthirsty his baby was when it came to someone she saw as family. She loved Lucy and would never see her hurt. It wasn't her time to do the ass-kicking yet. As the head of the family, Scott would happily do the dirty work for her. "I will make him sorry he ever hurt Lucy. Some things are better left to grownups. I know Lucy will appreciate your hugs and help with her shop. Let's do those for her and I'll see to him and make sure no one hurts Lucy ever again." It took a long moment, but Jessie nodded and Scott let out a relieved breath. Dealing with a six-year-old werewolf had its ups and downs. This hump wasn't so bad, really, and he loved her devotion to those she cared for. And what a nose—he was going to have a lot of fun training her when she was older. "Come on guys." He herded the kids together so they could let the situation go for the time being. "Let's go see Lucy and help her get the shop in order." "And have pizza, Dad?" Ross asked. "We can eat pizza and help while you plan kicking that guy's teeth in right?" "Right. Pizza, helping and planning. But let's not mention the last one to Lucy." [Back to Table of Contents] 132
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Chapter 15 "Where are you going?" Lucy asked. The bedroom was dark and cool, perfect for sleeping. They'd had a wonderful night together at the knitting shop, but after Lucy fell asleep, Scott had snuck out on his mission. He'd nearly made it back without incident, but nearly only counted in horseshoes. "Scott?" He cursed. He'd hoped to slip back into bed after his assbeating excursion without notice. "I'm coming back." "Where were you?" she asked, more awake than he'd thought, and the high he'd had since breaking the bastard's leg started to ebb. "I woke up and you were gone." He could say he'd gone to check on the kids. He could say he'd gotten a drink of water, but lying, even in theory, felt wrong. He couldn't do that to Lucy. He had to give her at least an edited version of events. A very edited version. "I ran out to find the guy who vandalized your shop." "What? Why would you do that?" She sat straight up. They hadn't gotten to consummate any mating, sex being the last straw of commitment in her mind He'd thought after working on the shop and the champagne, they might take the next step, but she'd crashed instead. Not that he'd minded because he'd still gotten to snuggle with her. 133
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"Why would I go after the bastard who tried to kill you and ruined your livelihood? Yeah, why would I do that?" he asked. "The police should have handled it, Scott. What if he'd hurt you?" He rolled his eyes. "Lucy, I'm a werewolf. There's no way a piece of shit like him could hurt me." "He hit you with a truck the last time you saw him." "And this time he wishes he'd been hit by a truck," he replied. "Don't worry. He won't be hurting anyone for a long time." He also wouldn't be eating solid foods or doing much beyond moaning in pain either. Lucy pushed out of bed and started pacing the floor. He'd hoped his actions wouldn't come up, since they were, he figured he should be comfortable, so he sat on the bed and watched her. She was a thinker and when she was ready, she'd talk. He hoped she didn't have to take his truck to do it this time, but if she did, his keys were there on the table and she knew she could go. "You can't—It's not—Scott, you can't just go beat people up." "I agree. And in the course of usual events, I rarely hurt anyone, especially intentionally. But when someone messes with my family and I feel they are a continuing threat that's not being dealt with properly by authorities, I take care of it." "If someone had hurt the kids, I could see—" "Shit, you still don't understand where you fit in this family do you? That's what this is about. I thought you were starting to understand, but I guess I was wrong." He stood and stopped her pacing with his hands on her shoulders. "You are 134
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important, Lucy. I love you and meeting you brought everything I'd been missing my whole life. I love my kids, don't get me wrong, but there's more to life, more to family and I see it all come together with you. I can't tolerate you being hurt. I understand you're not a werewolf and I'm trying really hard to respect that and not overwhelm you with everything. I knew you'd be upset if I killed him—" She gasped. "You didn't." "No, I didn't kill him. I did beat him to within an inch of his life and called the cops so they know where to find him. And you know what? If I hear about him even looking at you again, I might kill him and, no, I won't feel remorse. I love you, Lucy. I can't see you hurt like you were ever again. Losing your shop broke a piece of your heart and that's not okay with me. Physically, he touched you and tried to kill you. He's damn lucky he's even recognizable." "I-I—" "No." There was no room left for her to argue. He had to make her understand. "You need to start looking at yourself with more value than you do, Lucy. I'm sorry you were overlooked in your family, but you are so damn important to me. You're worth any risk and I'll do everything in my power to make you understand. I hope it's not kicking ass very often, because obviously it bothers you. I'm going to show you how much you mean to me and this family every chance I get. Even after you finally get it, I'm going to keep making you feel important here because you are. You're everything, Lucy." "No—" 135
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"If you think that's too much, let me put it this way." He stepped closer and rubbed his palms up and down her bare arms. "Maybe you aren't everything. You're right, the kids are the center of my life, but the center is growing. Just by being the amazing woman you are, the wonderful woman I love, you make everything better." **** She couldn't believe him. First, he admitted to beating up her attacker and then he went on and on about family and what she meant to him. How he connected the two ... Damn it, it made sense in a very primitive kind of way. What else could she expect from him, a werewolf with animal instincts? And how could she not be charmed and warmed to her heart with every word? He loved her. He'd told her before that he'd been showing her it every day and with the confession she remembered all those instances. The tools, the cereal, the impromptu cuddles. He'd even growled at a guy at the zoo the other day for looking at her too long. Those were moments he showed love, and this was the latest. Maybe she didn't agree with his methods. She didn't think she ever would, but she could understand. If someone had hurt Jessie, she'd have been the first there to kick them. "The longer I'm with you, the more I feel, but what if it's not enough, Scott? Wouldn't this whole thing be stronger if you were with another werewolf? You deserve someone who's willing to fight and do all the things you're willing to do. All I could do if our roles were reversed is knit you a sweater or 136
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something. They don't balance out and I want you to have everything you deserve." The admission broke her heart, yet her fears were what really held her back. She wasn't as strong as Scott and she couldn't do what he did, but she wanted him to have the whole world. If he could have more with a werewolf, she wanted him to have it with her whole heart. When she started to pull away, he held her tight. "Lucy. We don't all love the same and we don't show it the same. The difference in werewolves and humans in this case is nothing at all. You show your love with patience and affection and remembering my favorite color and calling shewolves sluts in the cereal aisle. Those things make me smile. And the physical fighting ... I don't need you to fight for me the same way I fight for you. I just need you love me the way only you can." He eased his grip and rubbed her bare arms. She leaned into his touch, his talk of love so simple and true that she let go of her reservations. Being noble and wanting another werewolf for him was one thing when she'd thought it might be what he desired, but it wasn't. She wanted for him whatever he needed and, more, she loved him. She loved his kids and wanted to be with him and them all the time. She'd asked him to treat her like he would if they'd been together ten years and it was her turn to do the same. "You don't have to do better or be better or anything else," Scott said, as if he heard her thoughts. "You have to get this through your head now. You might not believe it yet, but know I'm sincere. I love you the way you are right now. I love 137
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how you love me this minute. We're only going to get closer over time, but, baby, I wouldn't change a thing about you. Not a single thing." "Not even my inability to cook bacon?" He chuckled and pressed a slight kiss against her lips, just brushing them. She almost wished he would deepen it and finally bring the next step in their mating to the forefront. "Not even your cooking abilities deter me. Burn all the bacon you want because I'm going to love that you at least thought to make sure I had something to eat." He started to pull back, but she didn't want the distance between them any longer. They weren't rushing into the physical part of their relationship. From the moment they'd met, hurrying had been something she'd avoided. If speeding up entered his mind, he'd never shown his impatience. Now he was talking about how much he loved her after spending the last few months showing it day after day. They were in love. They were committed. They were mates. "Are you sure you're okay?" She lifted his hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. If they were even bruised slightly, it didn't show in the dim light of the bedroom. He rolled his eyes. "Baby, he didn't get a single shot in. When he's not attacking women or using his truck to maim people, the guy is a freaking pansy. I took care of him and I don't think we'll have any problems with him ever again." "You're so thoughtful and strong. I'm really lucky to have you love me like you do, aren't I?" She lifted his arms and draped them over her shoulders. "Well now, I'd say we're both really lucky." 138
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She ran her fingers up and down his sides, loving the strong muscles she felt beneath her hands. He was so strong, so wonderful ... and all hers. "Come to bed with me," she said, slowly walking backward, thrilled when he let her draw him along. "I've heard about this awesome wolf you can turn into. I haven't seen him up close yet, but maybe before the night is out I can persuade him to visit." "Persuade him, huh? If you want to see him, I'll be happy to show you." She sat on the bed, still holding him snug and when she gave a little tug, he bent at the waist, keeping them face to face. "Maybe later you can introduce us," she said, pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants. "Let's do something else for now." "If this is about the mate stuff—" "Me making love with you has nothing at all to do with the mate stuff," she interrupted and stroked her hand across his whisker-rough cheek. "But it does have to do with love stuff, so I hope you'll bear with me since I haven't done this in a while." He grinned, the loving ferocity in his expression exactly the encouragement she needed to know she could be a little wild. "Sounds good to me." She didn't give him the chance to kiss her, no, she wanted the first step to be all hers and when he growled into her mouth, she realized he liked the show as well. It made sense. How did she want to be wanted? As his mouth slanted harder to hers, taking each inch of kiss she'd give, she knew exactly 139
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what she needed from him—to be loved with passion, abandon and strength. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him hard to her body and raking her fingernails across his back. She would give him everything she had. "So is there anything I need to keep in mind when making love to a werewolf?" she asked between biting kisses along his neck. The muscles tightened under her touch and she took a long lick from his collar bone to his ear. He even tasted amazing. "Doing what you're doing right now is one guaranteed way to make this werewolf blow before he's ready." He chuckled. The sound was so tight and forced, she knew it wasn't quite the joke he'd have liked it to be. "Like this I'm like any other guy." Lucy let her hands wander past his waist and hips, brushing the incredibly big, hard place protruding from his slacks. "I think I'm going to have to call you a fibber, Scott." His hips thrust toward her hand and she opened her palm, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. "Oh damn." It had been a long time since she'd induced a man to make that particular groan and without further invitation, Lucy undid his button and zipper and freed him into her hands. His boxers didn't provide any other cover and, within moments, he'd shimmied out of all the obstructions between them. He really was big. Big to the point she worried for about three seconds and then decided to go with whatever he could give 140
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her. After all the playing and flirting, what happened next could only be amazing. His hands slid all over her and when she tried to help by removing the T-shirt she'd put on for bed, he simply ripped it and dived mouth-first for her exposed nipple. "Holy smokes, that's hot." She arched into his touch, wanting more as he tore at her panties at the same time he assaulted her breast. His whiskers raked against the soft skin of her chest, but she'd take the burn now and later. "Lucy, get those panties off or I'm going to rip them too and I might feel bad because they're pretty." She giggled and wriggled out of her panties. The new position allowed her to wrap her legs around his hips, leaving absolutely no barrier between his long cock and her waiting body. "How's that?" she asked, rubbing her calf up and down the back of his thigh. "Should I go on my knees or something?" **** She petted him with almost her entire body. Once he was inside, that 'almost' would go away and his life would be forever changed. Scott tried to get as close as he could without actually penetrating—she needed more time to get ready for him—but just a little more and he'd... "Do you want me on my hands and knees, Scott?" Hands and knees? The offer shook him out of his bliss and if she hadn't been holding him so tightly with her legs, he might have fallen over. Just the thought of her pretty bottom pointed high in the air for him, waiting, wet ... Oh hell. 141
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He didn't let his cock plunge in like it wanted to, but he couldn't stop himself from dipping into Lucy's wet heat. She moaned at the initial contact and though he had no intention of going any farther at the moment, her legs locked him in place, drawing him deeper and deeper until there was no beginning or end of him, just him surrounded by Lucy. "Stop!" The sudden exclamation startled him out of his lust-filled mind. "What? Am I hurting you? I'm too big—" "I'm not ready to have puppies, Scott," she wailed. "Puppies? What the—" It hit him—he wasn't wearing a condom and of course to her since they'd spoke so much about fertility and mating, it meant he was a walking breeding machine. He knew very well she wasn't near her fertile cycle and there was no way in hell she'd actually have puppies, but she probably didn't. "Puppies? No, no puppies, honey, and you're not—" Instead of trying to explain, Scott stopped and reached into his nightstand. Not that he had a huge assortment of condoms waiting for him. He'd bought some after Lucy had started staying over, just in case. He was glad he'd had the foresight to make the purchase. Pulling out was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he smelled Lucy's immediate relief when he sheathed up with the little piece of plastic. "Okay, come back, right now," she commanded. He didn't love the condom, but the added lube around it made things more slippery and gave him all sorts of wicked ideas for future nocturnal activities. Lucy moaned and tried to 142
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pull him tighter with every thrust. Her nails caught on his back and butt, dragging over his flesh and threatening to take him over an edge he didn't want to cross until Lucy was screaming his name over and over. "Scott, Scott. Oh, a little harder, a little—oh, oh." There was one orgasm, he thought, setting a new goal to help him focus on not losing his load yet. She deserved more from him and he wanted her to think back on their first time together and get so hot she clawed him down again. He thought her yelling would ease back as the orgasm did, but she kept crying out, the muscles surrounding his cock never ceasing to contract. She grabbed him by the ears and pulled him down, devouring his mouth. Her tongue invaded his mouth like he was invading her and his control snapped. Why the hell had he thought he could hold back? He planted his hands on either side of her shoulders and braced himself as his hips took on a mind of their own, slamming harder with each move. She took every inch of him, meeting him with every thrust and encouraging him to do more. Even with his mouth on hers, she managed to scream and, even muffled, the jubilant cries were music to his ears. She jerked and moaned hard in his arms and he had to be done. He would have loved to hear one more yell and feel another climax around his cock, but he couldn't wait any longer. "Oh hell," he muttered, biting back the need to growl in case it startled her out of their intense moment. "Lucy. Hell." He braced on his elbows and stayed deep inside her, but finally let his body relax as he strove to catch his breath. 143
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There was so much more he wanted to do. He hadn't kissed her nearly enough and he was certain only one nipple had gotten moderate attention. That left multiple delicious square inches for him to lick and explore as soon as he had fifteen minutes to recover. **** It came from nowhere and erupted before Lucy could even attempt to stop it. The giggling. She slammed her hands over her mouth as the situationally inappropriate laughter bubbled out of her. The last thing she wanted was for Scott to think she was laughing at him and she wasn't sure the words were lined up in her mind yet to explain it all. He shoved up on his hands again, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. He wasn't the only one who was sweating, but Lucy preferred to think she glowed in the moonlight shining through the bedroom window. His cocked eyebrow did little to help her gain composure, and she giggled more. "I'm sorry," she said through the laughter. "I just, I think I'm slightly overwhelmed." He grinned. "You know, a lesser male might get a complex if his female started laughing after finishing their first sexual encounter. Luckily, I know how you work." He dug his fingers into her sides. She giggled and squirmed. "You're not helping!" "Why would I?" he asked. "Hearing you laugh is the best sound. And did you know your whole body laughs?" There was no forgetting about the part of him that remained buried within her, but the reminder and wiggling 144
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dislodged him. She wished him back. Immediately following a long shower and some sleep, she'd have him there. Scott propped up on his elbow, only half covering her with his body. The giggles slowly ebbed, but looking at him made her so happy she knew she still grinned like a fool. He ran a gentle finger down the side of her face, tucking a strand of her hair away from her eyes. "I love seeing you this happy. I'm going to remember this moment forever." His loving words sobered her up. He was so romantic, so ... everything. "I love you. I can't wait to make tons of memories like tonight's with you." She stroked his ribs with her palms. "I want to say I wish we hadn't waited so long because that was awesome and I know we'll never get enough, but I'm really glad everything happened like this. I love you." He leaned down and rubbed his nose to hers, the gesture as special as the man himself. "I love you too. If the giggles are done, can we lie down together and relax? I want to spend the rest of the night petting you." "Petting me?" she asked. He shrugged. "Yep. I didn't get to touch you all over last time. I want to now." "Oh." What a lovely idea. She'd let him pet her wherever, whenever he wanted. "Sounds good to me." [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 16 Lucy woke with a sleepy yawn. She smiled and yawned again. Sex was supposed to be good, but she hadn't known what else it could be. The whole mating-for-life thing suddenly made a whole lot of sense. With a first and second time so good, she could only imagine what lovemaking would be when they actually knew what each other liked. Petting— the man was a genius. She looked over at Scott, still asleep and taking up more than his fair share of the bed. She didn't mind. He'd already shown her in the past when they'd slept together that there was always room snug in his arms. They were going to have so much fun together. She couldn't wait to find out what she liked with him because she knew the list was going to be long, varied and entertaining. And knowing she wouldn't have puppies took a lot of the worry out of the wonderful act. They had three kids—plenty for the moment. When they did decide to have more, Scott had assured her she would have a perfect little baby—not a puppy. But she wasn't thinking about that anymore. She was famished and the need for food drove the deeper thoughts aside. She hadn't eaten much pizza at dinner and according to the alarm clock, breakfast was too far away to try to sleep. Her system wasn't accustomed to the late-night acrobatics and demanded sustenance. Pudding. Suddenly ravenous, she could no longer resist the allure of the waiting chocolate 146
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pudding. She kissed Scott's cheek. He smiled but didn't bother to open his eyes. Since he wasn't offering to join her, she wasn't going to bring him a snack. Fighting a naughty giggle, she climbed over him. After she finished eating she was going to spend the rest of the night keeping him awake. The house was quiet and dark as she made her way through the hall. The space had been kept pitch black at night when she started spending more time there. Scott had taken pity on her and added a few nightlights after she stubbed her toes. The kids didn't need the light with their freaky awesome eyesight, but her poor human eyes weren't up for the challenge. She followed the dim lights to the kitchen and went straight to the treats drawer. There were fruits and veggies in the crisper, but they weren't going to cut it for late night decadence. Those could wait for another time. Chocolate pudding, however, could not. She jumped up and sat on the counter, her feet swinging well off the floor. When was the last time she'd been so completely happy and free? Her feet paused. Never. She'd never felt so wonderful. Scott gave that to her by loving her, she realized. She'd always thought she loved and took care of herself. She'd certainly respected herself, but now she could very clearly see there was more. So much more. Brad had loved her and she'd adored him, but this was different. It should be. Scott wasn't Brad, would never be him and there was no use feeling guilty. She'd loved him the best she could and she was going to do the same for Scott. 147
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He said she didn't have to change, but she would. She'd take a few cooking classes and maybe take a parenting class as well. She wanted to be an effective stepmother. Their own mother had been ill—Lucy had to think of her as such, otherwise the facts she knew made her want to dig up the woman and smack her. Anyone who could treat their daughter badly and try to hurt her sons ... It was wrong. Lucy's own mother had been ill as well. Drugs had done her in eventually, but Lucy'd had her grandmother. Lucy knew she would never really be the kids' mom, just as her grandma wasn't her mother. Still, she could do her best and they had every opportunity to do great together. She licked the back of her spoon, her pudding depleting rapidly. Maybe a book. She could get a few books on parenting and cooking and read them while the workmen finished the shop details. Her adventure could be one more goal to keep her focused and busy until the shop was ready. She laughed to herself, careful to stay quiet with the kids down the hall. With her luck she'd get hit with everything at once since she was actually making plans. Oh well, family was worth the stress. And Scott, he definitely was worth any late-night studying she might undertake. She wondered if he'd be interested in joining her in her educational journey. She could find a few other kinds of books too. Perhaps something about pleasing a big man in bed. She grinned, feeling very naughty as she licked the last of her pudding from the cup. Or maybe she'd nix the last book. Some things were better discovered through lots and lots of experience. 148
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She tossed her trash in the garbage and took a little drink of water with her new endeavor in mind. There was never a better time to start learning than the present. She set her cup aside and froze when something out the window caught her eye. Scott had joked about how no raccoons or squirrels hung around their house anymore, so she knew the movement hadn't come from them. The backyard was fenced in and whatever had moved was within its barrier. She ducked to the side of the window, but kept watching, hoping she was wrong. Nothing moved. While Lucy knew her imagination could be wild, she also knew a real bump when she heard it. Outside the kitchen door was a patio and she heard something ... something that was turning the door handle. Damn Scott for never locking the freaking door. There was no time to yell for Scott and if whoever was at the door actually came in, the kids were only a room away. Her breath caught in her chest and she looked for some kind of weapon. Knives would have been the logical answer, but the first thing she saw was her new knitting tote. She'd only just bought the needles. They'd been wicked expensive, but she'd looked at them as an investment and when she pulled them from the tote, she was grateful for their length and unrelenting points. The knob on the door turned in earnest, her heartbeats marking the moments in suspended time. No one was supposed to be coming. Scott had made it very clear that he was a lone wolf and had to take special care with his kids. Whoever was entering wasn't welcome. 149
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"Lucy? Are you up?" The sound of Jessie's voice did what nothing else could have done when it came as the door opened. Spurred on by the feral need to protect the child, Lucy launched at the dark figure entering in the house, slashing blindly with the heavy needles. Lucy continued to stab at him despite his yelling. Jessie screamed and within moments, the kitchen exploded into a frenzy. It wasn't safe yet, her mind shouted as she kept striking out. The intruder was a threat to her family, her pups, her mate. There was no way in hell she was going to let him hurt them. Someone grabbed her from behind and Lucy fought the new attacker, trying to pierce the hands with the bloody needles so she could get back to the real threat. "Whoa, whoa. Lucy, it's okay. It's okay." "Let me go. We can't let him hurt the kids. Jessie—" "You got him, Lucy," Scott said, his voice calm and soothing, like he was attempting to calm a crazed animal. "You got him good and there's no way he'll ever hurt the kids now." "So why is he still there?" she demanded, kicking her feet out at the man groaning on the ground. "You'd better run before he lets me go." "He's a friend, honey," Scott said and she froze, suddenly feeling like a fool. She'd overreacted and this time she'd hurt a friend. "You didn't know. All you knew was that he was coming in the back way and being sneaky. You couldn't have done a more perfect job. He deserved to be skewered, right, Owen?" 150
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"Shit, no, I didn't deserve to get stabbed." The man on the floor gasped and coughed. "That sucked. Hell, Chris said she's the one who called for us to come check on you guys. Do you sic your crazy human on all pack visitors or am I special?" "I'm not crazy," Lucy snapped, suddenly not so worried she'd hurt an actual friend. "And if any other werewolf thinks they can sneak through our back door when our babies are sleeping down the hall, I'll stab them right through their hearts." "Bloodthirsty for a human." "Jeez, Owen, shut up. You're a moron," Scott said, but his grip on Lucy didn't ease and she wondered if in addition to claiming his children as her own, maybe she had taken on a bit of her mate's need for blood and violence. "You know you're just jealous anyway." "Yeah, maybe," Owen muttered. Scott tucked her to his side and Lucy dropped the slippery knitting needles. "Can he get the hell out of here now?" "You bet, sweetheart. Give me a minute to see if he has anything interesting to say." There was nothing the idiot could say that could be remotely interesting, but since Scott was holding her and the big danger groaned like a pansy on the floor, she tried to relax a little. "Owen, what the hell were you thinking, sneaking into my house? If she hadn't torn you a new one, I would have." "Aw, come on. I was going to wait at the table. You would have woke up, offered me food since I was in the kitchen and it would have been fine." Owen pushed to his knees slowly. 151
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"How was I supposed to know you had a rabid human on guard?" "You're a werewolf, right?" Jessie asked. "You should have smelled her." Reminded of the little girl, Lucy looked up and saw not only Jessie stood in the shadows looking on with amazement, but the boys were there as well. The blood didn't seem to bother them and the violence hadn't sent any of them running either. It was too crazy, too wrong. Her hands and arms were covered in blood, the second Tshirt she'd borrowed from Scott a mess as well. If anyone noticed, they didn't say a word. Laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep within her and Lucy couldn't stop the irrational babble spewing from her lips at the absurdity of what had just happened. More laugher at random times. What the heck was wrong with her? Scott held her tighter and she realized her laugh was a tiny bit crazy. But to be fair, she'd attacked a werewolf with knitting needles and lived to tell about it. **** "I think your human might be a little overwhelmed, there, Scott." "I think you're an asshole who's going to get his butt kicked after my human is laid down and checked out. You better not have hurt her." "Hurt her? Did you not see the freaking holes in my arms? I didn't even touch her." 152
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Scott kept a tight hold on Lucy. She didn't try to escape him, but the second the adrenaline high topped out and she crashed, exhaustion would invade and he wanted to be there to catch her. She might even feel bad and cry, which would not bode well for Owen Meyters, the main enforcer of the Haven pack. When he'd met with Owen and his alpha, Chris Meyters, he'd liked them both a lot. They were good, honest wolves, and he hadn't perceived either as stupid. He was rewriting his first impression of Owen. The idiot Were was lucky it had been Lucy in the kitchen. If it had been him, Scott wasn't sure if he'd have been able to differentiate friend from foe, especially after the last few intense days and with his kids and mate in the house. That Lucy had taken on an intruder for the sake of protecting his children—their children—humbled him and guaranteed Owen another ass-kicking if Lucy felt at all bad about hurting him. "She's fine, it's me who's bleeding from three freaking holes. What did she get me with? Knife sharpeners?" Scott smiled, and petted his hand through Lucy's hair. She'd turned into his arms and clung to him while she fought to catch her breath, still in obvious shock. "She defended her mate and pups the best way she knew how—with knitting needles." "Knitting needles? Ahh," Owen groaned. "No freaking way. I'm never going to live this one down. Brought low by a damn human with sticks."
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"Knitting needles aren't sticks," Lucy protested. "Those ones were handcrafted out of steel and cost more than your ugly shoes." Scott rolled his eyes when Owen immediately looked down at his feet. The Were was a bit dumber than he'd thought. And Lucy was very articulate even when approaching hard shock. "Kids, head back to bed," Scott said. "Greg, lock up for me, will you? I need to get Lucy laid down." "She saved the day," Jessie whispered to her brothers. "You should have seen her. She attacked like a tiger or something." "Not a wolf?" Ross asked. "Way scarier than a wolf. It was awesome." Owen chuckled and Scott bit back his own. Lucy was truly awesome and though Scott would have said he'd always been proud of her, he was floored by how she'd risen to the occasion. A better mate for him or better mother for the pups ... there was no such thing. "Owen, you can head down to the basement for the night if you want. There are bandages and first aid supplies in the bathroom down there." "Yeah, I'll head down and we can catch up in the morning. Night, Lucy." "I can't believe he's talking to me," Lucy mumbled against his ear. "Crazy stinking werewolf. I swear to gosh, I should have stabbed him in the mouth." "Bloodthirsty ... I should have figured you'd find a mate like her, Scott. Lucky bastard." 154
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Owen's words were too quiet for Lucy to hear, thank goodness, because Scott didn't know how the 'bloodthirsty' label would go over with his usually even-tempered female. "He's still talking," Lucy muttered and Scott laughed out loud. "You are fantastic. I adore you and I can't wait to hear about what exactly happened. Try to calm down for now, okay, sweetheart?" Her laughter turned to hiccups and Scott was thankful the hiccups weren't tears. He turned on the bathroom light and set her on the counter to survey the damage. She had blood on her hands and quite a bit had spattered onto her sleepshirt as well. "Oh my gosh, I'm covered in blood. Get it off." "Shhh," he said, already turning the water on. "Calm down, Lucy. You're a thinker, remember? What would your grandma say about this?" "She'd say not to stab people in the kitchen with knitting needles." "She'd say to protect your family and to do it in the most practical way possible," he replied, using the warmed washcloth to gently scrub away the blood left from Owen. He hoped the other Were found the first aid kit quickly because he'd lost a lot of blood. "And that's exactly what you did. You assessed the situation and you protected Jessie the best way you knew how. I'm so proud." "He's a friend!"
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"Naw, I don't like him that much. You can stab him whenever you want," he told her, drying her hands and considering the best way to get her out of her soiled shirt. "Get this off of me, please," she said, wriggling away from another of his ruined shirts. He considered the options and shrugged. It was wrecked anyway, so he tore it from neckline to hem. She shuddered as he pulled it away from her body, her nakedness not even an issue. "Ahhh, thanks. Throw it away. Gross. Are you sure you're not mad?" "Of course I'm not mad—I was planning buying a few new T-shirts this weekend anyway." "No, about your friend." "I already told you that you did the right thing. Besides, I honestly don't like him much. Want me to grab you another shirt and take you downstairs to stab Owen again to prove it?" She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. The crazy and panic had ebbed enough for him to know the hug was just a hug and that made it wonderful. He moved between her open thighs, taking full advantage of the embrace and since she didn't stiffen or push him away, he figured she needed the contact too. "I think I get it now," she whispered. "Get what?" "I think I get why you went and beat up the robber. I would stab Owen again if I thought he was a threat. I'd do the same a hundred times if I thought it would keep you and the kids safe. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad for doing what you knew was right." 156
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He nuzzled her neck. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you understand, but I never want you in a scary situation again. I'll do my job better so you can keep your needles to yarn only." "They really were too expensive to use as weapons." She laughed and rubbed her nose to his shoulder and he knew it was a good laugh. "I had plans to jump you when I got back to bed, but is it okay if we go to sleep?" "You bet, sweetheart." He brushed his hand through her hair. "Could you maybe be a wolf? We got distracted last time you said you'd show me." He froze, the request so unexpected he had to let it process a moment. "Are you sure that's what you want? After everything, I don't want to give you another shock." "No, I really want ... unless it would make you uncomfortable," she said in a rush. "If the wolf is what you want, you've got him. He's been dying to meet you," he replied, lifting her from the counter into his arms. "I just didn't want to scare you." She shook her head against his shoulder, the fatigue he'd anticipated after her rush making her quiet. He stopped by his dresser and grabbed a fresh T-shirt for her before setting her on the bed. She gave him another hard hug before she freed him and let him put the shirt over her head. "Did I ever tell you I always wanted a pet?" she asked. "My grandma was allergic so I had tons of stuffed toys instead. Cats always made sense with the knitting stuff, but I think I 157
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could embrace being a canine person. Who'd have thought one I'd have my own wolf pack to play with? Can I rub your belly?" He chuckled and shucked his clothes. "Sure, baby, you can rub whatever you want. Just scoot back and get cozy. And because I won't be able to talk as a wolf—sleep well and I love you." Her gaze softened as she did as he asked, giving him plenty of room on the bed to change and lay. "Thanks, Scott. I love you too." He changed under her the gaze of her wide eyes. It only took a moment and, unlike the last time she'd witnessed the change, he wasn't beat up, so this one didn't hurt. He nosed aside the blankets and crawled deeper into bed. The wolf could hear Owen already snoring in the basement and the kids were whispering quietly in their beds, nearly back to sleep as well, so the only thing left was to cuddle with his mate. He turned in a circle and lay down beside Lucy, tucking his nose to her cheek. She giggled and he licked her, making her laugh harder. Like he was one of the stuffed animals she'd spoken of, she wrapped her arm around him and squeezed, holding him to her chest. He didn't fight the hold. No, that would have been insane. Instead, he settled deeper into the bed, letting her cuddle him however she needed. As he fell asleep, he hoped she'd remember the belly rub in the morning. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter 17 Thirty-five boxes. Lucy counted them again and, while she was thrilled to have them finally in her shop, she couldn't believe they'd come at the same time. She'd put aside the shop for a day to take care of the kids after their long night with the intruder. Now there was nothing keeping her away from getting things done. The haze of new love was wonderful, but the shop had to get set up if she was really going to be able to enjoy an everyday life with Scott. She didn't want the added stress of restocking the shop and stilted income to distract her from her new family. Jessie had wanted to come along to help and, with the daunting task before her, Lucy wished she'd taken the girl up on her offer. Jessie wouldn't have been a huge help, but still, the task would have been less intimidating with company. Lucy looked again between the plethora of boxes and spans of empty shelving. It was going to take her weeks to get everything sorted and into the baskets she had yet to unpack from their boxes still waiting in the back room. Even then she'd have pricing and labeling and—the bell over the door twinkled and Lucy cursed. "Hello, hello." She should have locked the front door, but she'd gotten distracted by the delivery and had left it open. Her heart sped slightly as she braced for whomever was there. With forced calm, she walked into the main shop. She wondered if she'd 159
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ever be able to answer her door without the panic. With only the empty shelves, she recognized the newcomer instantly— at least one of them. She stepped toward the counter where she'd left her knitting needles. Owen must have seen where her gaze landed because he took a step back. "You. What are you doing here?" she demanded. Owen rolled his eyes but made no move to walk farther into the shop. The Were was younger than Scott and goodlooking enough, though he had absolutely nothing on her mate. And Scott was just that, her mate. If Owen needed a reminder, well, she was all too happy to oblige. "Come on, can't we start over?" Owen asked, all charm. "I didn't mean to scare you and I hope you know I had no intention of hurting your step-pups or Scott." "Yeah, I know," she admitted. "That doesn't mean I won't cut you with my new scissor if I think that changes." "Damn, Owen, you were right," the short blond woman said with a laugh. "I do like her. A lot. I apologize for my husband's cousin, Lucy. For all of his good points, he does tend to be a moron. My name is Mona Meyters. This is my husband, Chris. We're the alphas of the werewolves in this part of the United States and we wanted to stop by and say hi and make sure everything was okay." Lucy stiffened. Scott had explained why he and the kids weren't welcomed into the Haven pack. Part of her could respect the decision, but mostly she thought it was bull honkey. 160
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"Well, I'd say things are approaching okay. Scott was the victim of a hit-and-run a few weeks ago, my shop was robbed and nearly destroyed, but the kids are all fine. And that's what they are, kids. I understand your desire to keep your family safe, but this leaving things separate is ridiculous. I called weeks ago for help. If you thought anything at all of Scott, one of you would have come down then, not over a month later." "Lucy—may I call you Lucy?" Chris asked. "You're the one I spoke with on the phone," she said, recognizing the tall, dark and handsome Were from the voice she'd heard. "Yes, I am. And I didn't set aside your call. However, you're human and humans always exaggerate werewolf injuries. Scott's strong and I knew then, just like I know now, that he can take care of his family. And now I also know his mate can do the same." "Flattery is nice, Mr. Meyters," Lucy said, putting her hands on her hips. "But support and family are things werewolves are supposed to be super at. You need to really think about that." "You're right." Chris held up his hands. "And I have been thinking about it a lot. I'm going to invite Scott and his kids to be part of the pack and since you're his mate, you'll also be invited. We do need to take care of each other and the last thing I want is for the pups to believe they don't matter to their own kind." "Good. It's about time you wised up," she said, the sassiness coming from somewhere she didn't recognize, but 161
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she liked it nonetheless. A confident attitude seemed to have the desired effect on werewolves when it came to making them see how she needed things to happen. "Now, what can I help you with?" "No, what can we help you with?" Chris asked. "We're here to assist you if we can. I figured you wouldn't believe our sincerity until we showed you what pack means. Since your little group is officially instated—I'll take care of the paperwork later—you're entitled to all of the benefits of being one of us. Including us helping with business when you need it. You should be able to rely on us, like when push comes to shove, we'll rely on you." "On me?" she asked. "He especially means when you come to Haven that you eat at his diner." Mona gently elbowed her husband. "It's good Were-commerce to support local Were-businesses. I'd recommend the hot chocolate." "Ah, I guess we can go to your diner," Lucy said, seeing once again Scott had left some parts of Were culture in the dark. To be fair, it looked like she would have the rest of her life to learn all about her new world. "Well, if anyone wants to learn to knit, I'm very happy to help." Mona's eyes lit up. "I've always wanted to learn to knit. Are all of those boxes in the doorway yarn? Can I see?" Sensing a kindred spirit and finally some common ground with her new packmates—no, alphas—Lucy smiled. "You bet. And if you're serious about helping, you guys can start opening boxes in the back. I've got a few hundred baskets 162
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that need to be taken out of totes and out of plastic wrappers." **** It had been a long time since Scott willingly spent time in a coffee shop. Unfortunately, it had seemed like the logical meeting place. Scott looked at the ragtag group gathered over lattes, cappuccinos and juice drinks. He should have known the family Lucy spoke of would be a bit eclectic, but he hadn't anticipated how much so. A few were perfectly nice. Actually, they all smelled decent enough, but they were nothing like Lucy. "So why are we here?" one of the younger men asked. "Lucy's shop was vandalized and she needs help," Jennifer, the sister Lucy had spoken of, said before he could. "And Aunt Lucy is really nice," the niece said. "She did all kinds of stuff with us when we stayed with her this spring. We even helped her put the yarn on the shelves before. We can do it again." The half a dozen men and women looked around at each other and Scott hoped they acted how Lucy would if roles were reversed. He had to believe Lucy's grandma had tried to instill some of the same values on the foster kids as she had on Lucy. When the chatter started, memories of the grandma and Lucy herself emerged. He knew something good could happen here. "Well, are we going to sit around here being worthless or are we going to go get some work done?" Mrs. Kimmes demanded. She was decked out in all yellow for the day, 163
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topped off with a fancy knitted scarf Scott would bet had been a gift from Lucy. Seeing the perfect segue, Scott stood and the chatting in their group stopped. "Mrs. Kimmes is right. There's a lot to be done to get Lucy's shop in order. If you've got the time, I'd really like you to come and help. It's busy work with putting yarn in baskets and putting up shelves and a little painting. With enough hands, it's going to go quickly." "And Lucy is so damn organized and efficient, we'll probably be out by suppertime," one of the brothers said and the other laughed. "Hell, even if we're not, I'll treat for supper. Everyone still like ham and potato casserole?" another sister asked. The group laughed and even though Scott didn't understand, he knew it was a good thing. He gathered up the kids, all of them very willing to take a break from their activities to help for the day. Lucy wasn't expecting them, but he hoped the surprise would be a welcome one. **** There was still so much to do. The shop was much messier than when they started, and instead of boxes, there were lovely wicker baskets and piles of yarn. Chris and Owen had put together the last of her shelves and Lucy and Mona had gotten a few boxes labeled and inventoried. They had a pile ready to be taken to the shelves, but they hadn't gotten that far. Lucy was grateful for the assistance, so grateful because she never would have been able to make so much headway on her own. The task ahead was definitely daunting. 164
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Chris squatted beside her, Mona across the room stacking blue wool together in what would be the designated wool area. "Owen told me about what happened two nights ago and I'm really glad Scott found a mate like you. I know you think I've been cold about all of this, but Scott and his family have been on my mind since the day they moved here. I've also had people watching to make sure they were safe, especially the kids. Scott can take care of himself." "I know he can." She added more price labels to the balls of yarn around her. "But I thought the perks of pack included not having to do it all alone. You know what? If you've been doing what you said and you're doing this now, there's no reason at all for me to be crabby or snarky. We'll all do our part to keep our family safe." Chris smiled, a charming, half-kicked grin Lucy was sure Mona adored. "You're going to fit right in with us. I worried about those pups growing up without a mother wolf for guidance. It looks like Scott found himself one. Oh, and speak of the devil..." Lucy turned and smiled when Scott and the kids walked by the glass window. The kids knocked on the panel and her heart soared when she saw her niece and nephew also in the mix, along with several other children who looked vaguely familiar. "It looks like we'll need to go on a juice box run," she said, pushing to her feet, only to freeze when the procession continued. "Oh my gosh." They were all there. Faces—old and new—most she hadn't seen since her grandmother's funeral surrounded her. Mrs. 165
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Kimmes, John, Eric, Jennifer and the rest. And their kids too. She hurried to the door when she realized Scott's arms were full and held it open. "What is all of this about?" she asked. He smiled, though there was a touch of nervousness around the edges. "I, ah, I hope you don't mind but I made a few calls." "The boy called before ten AM," John, the joker of the bunch, said. "And demanded we get our asses down here and help out." "Scott, you shouldn't have—" "Of course he should have," Jennifer said, handing her a heavy gift bag before kissing her cheek. "Lord knows you wouldn't have thought to call for help. Super Lucy does it all, but this time you're going to let us all help." "And if you don't, we're going to make you eat all the potato and ham casserole." She laughed out loud at Eric's promise. The casserole had been the only one her grandma had any success with and that only occurred thirty percent of the time, so to be threatened with it was something she—they all—still dreaded even so many years later. Her heart pounded in pleasure at having all the ones she'd loved so much growing up in her space. She'd forgotten how much she loved them and how much she loved spending time with them until they were all there. She coughed, her throat a little tight. "Well, if you want to start anything, the backroom is full of projects. Walls to be painted, baskets to be unwrapped, boxes to be stacked." 166
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"We're on it," Jennifer said, rounding up the kids and the others. "We'll get started and ask if we need more direction." "I'll get them started, Lucy," Mona called, a smile so happy on her face Lucy thought the werewolf might cry. Lucy knew she sure wanted to. "Come on back, gang. There's plenty to do." Lucy kissed each cheek as they passed. She hadn't seen most of them in years. "I'm so sorry I didn't keep up better." "Don't worry about it," Eric said. He was about the same age as her and had only spent a few years with Grandma, but he'd turned his life around. "We all get busy, and you know what? I knew you were here. It's as much my fault for not getting my ass down here. I'm back in town now, working for a construction company, so I'm not staying gone long. I'll start reinforcing the shelves and anchoring them to the walls." She kissed his cheek again, smooth shaven and if he was a little pudgy, the weight looked wonderful on him after the years of him being so skinny and malnourished in body and soul. "That's wonderful, Eric. Thanks so much." "A nice family reunion." Mrs. Kimmes maneuvered her scooter in with little difficulty. "I'm not one for painting. Point me toward the wool. I'll get it sorted for you." "I just opened a new box right over there," Lucy said and put a staying hand on the older woman's arm. "I'm so glad to see you. Thanks for your help." "Well, it's my pleasure. When your young man called, I thought it was about darn time you got things going again. We'll have it all together before you know it. The girls and I 167
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have been hanging out at the coffee shop and let me tell you, there's nothing worse than a hooker with caffeine jitters." Lucy bit back a laugh as Chris and Owen stopped in their tracks to stare at the older woman from the back of the store. Mrs. Kimmes moved along to her yarn while the two werewolves looked on with disbelief. Well, Lucy thought, that's what the stinkers got for eavesdropping. With Mrs. Kimmes digging through yarn and Lucy's family in the backroom as loud and rambunctious as she remembered, it only left Scott before her. The pups had followed the other kids and with everyone busy, she had one very important person to thank: her mate. "You aren't mad?" he asked. "Are you kidding? This is the most wonderful surprise ever. And Eric, I barely got to see him at Grandma's funeral, so it's great to see him doing so well." She stepped close and wrapped her arms around Scott's neck. "And you're the one who thought of it all. You are such a special, special man." He shrugged, the motion drawing her deeper into his embrace. "I'm just a male who wants his mate to be happy. We're never too old to redefine family, Lucy, and I want you to have the one you've always had in your head in real life, not just locked away in memories. They were all happy to come down here and I think they're hoping for something more as well. Now, what the hell are Mona and Chris doing here?" She rubbed her nose to his, her love for him overwhelming. "They came to show me what it means to be part of a pack. And you know what I'm learning?" 168
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"What's that, beautiful?" "I'm learning the day I met you was the most blessed day I've ever experienced. And I can't wait to see what else I'll have learned in fifty years." His nostrils flared and though she didn't have the kind of nose he did, she didn't need it to feel the difference in him. She'd alluded to forever the night Owen intruded, told him she loved him, but now there was no question what she meant. She wanted forever with him. Growing old together and making memories for decades to come sounded like the very best thing she could ever hope to have. "I suppose to get those fifty I might marry you, huh?" he asked. "Oh, you don't have to. I know you guys don't usually—" "Hell, no," Owen called from where he'd been stacking baskets. "Make the man shell out for a wedding. Mostly make him drop lots of cash for the reception. Lots of meat and cake." "I second that," Chris said, a grin on his face Lucy knew mirrored her own. "It's been a few years since we had a good pa—family wedding. I'll even cater it." "And I'll do the cake," Mona called. "Wait, I want to do the cake," Jennifer protested. "You bake?" "Well, no, but I know great bakery." Lucy laughed, the immediate play between Jennifer and Mona what she hoped to hear between her sisters. If things went to plan, and Lucy was going to do everything in her 169
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power to ensure they did, they would all be family. A ragtag, thrown together, multi-species family. Scott nudged her face back to his, his expression soft. "So, if I get the cake and reception and all the details figured out, do you suppose we could get started on our next fifty years sometime soon?" She kissed him lightly. "Honey, cake is nice, don't get me wrong, but as far as I'm concerned, our fifty years started the day you picked up your first set of knitting needles. There's no way I'm letting you loose." He kissed her, his lips hard and intense and, though she heard an outburst of applause and catcalls, she didn't pull away. Kissing him was like being consumed in the very best way and she couldn't wait to be alone with him again. When he finally pulled back, she gasped for breath and wished their alone time would come sooner than later. "You're mine forever." His eyes glowed and it could have scared her, but it didn't. "And you're mine." A ball of yarn flew between them, breaking the emotional, loving moment. She turned to the perpetrator—Owen. She should have stabbed him harder. "And now, lovebirds, it's time to get this place in order. The sooner Lucy has her shop back, the sooner she can knit you two matching sweaters so I can laugh at Scott." She blushed a little, the plan for a family of matching sweaters actually on her knitting list. Scott laughed and lifted her in his arms in a hard hug. "If she knits it, I'll wear it. And you know what, Owen? If you're 170
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lucky, you might find a woman like my Lucy who'll knit and love you like she does me. You'd better start getting your karma in order, a woman like this doesn't come along every day." Before she could start melting and getting mushy again, more yarn was launched their way, this time by the kids. Scott batted it away and set her to her feet. She looked around the shop. Love filled the air and a bumbling mess filled the rest. "Well, Mate, let's get to work. This place won't clean itself and those sweaters won't knit themselves," Scott said. She looked up at him and smiled. "You're right, Mate. Let's get to work." **** Hours later, with family packing his backyard, Scott didn't think he'd ever been happier. His kids played with Lucy's nieces and nephews, the adults tossed balls around and, instead of casseroles, half a dozen pizzas and subs waited on the picnic tables. Twilight descended upon them and he knew everyone was beat from working for hours in the shop, but no one made any moves toward the door. It was one of those perfect evenings and he had a feeling it would be long past dark when they finally called it a night. "You look like a happy man." Scott looked up and found Chris in the doorway behind him with a beer in his hand. Lucy and Mona were out with the kids, the alpha's little daughters joining in the play. Scott hadn't had a chance to talk to the alpha about what Lucy had 171
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mentioned. He figured the other Were would talk when he was ready. "Well, I'd have to say that's right," Scott said, lazily lounging in his chair. He nudged the open seat toward Chris. The alpha sat. Scott had already noticed that Chris chose his words carefully. It was a trait Scott appreciated, even now when he waited to hear the ruling on his future. "So, how do you feel about another move? I know you and the kids are just getting settled here, but I figure if you make the move now, you'll beat the start of the school year." Scott shook his head. Six months ago he might have jumped on the offer, but with Lucy, things were different. "Or," Chris said, before Scott could explain, "you could stay here and join one of the family circles. It's a mini pack kind of thing, no alpha, no dominance, hell, what does Mona call it? It started with the females who needed support, but branched out into including entire families. They meet up a few times a month for dinner and to help each other out between visiting Haven." "That, we could do," Scott said. "With Lucy's shop just starting again, I don't think we should leave. The kids are finally making friends here too and I think they need stability right now. Maybe in a few years when everything is more steady, we could make the switch." "I understand. When the time is right, we can discuss a move again. After you've met everyone, you and I need to have a discussion about you taking a more active role in enforcing down here. I need Owen up north, but this is a big city. The males I had keeping an eye on you are too beta to 172
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take initiative in an emergency. I don't think you'd have that problem." Scott nodded. "Yeah, ask me again in a few weeks and I'm sure we can figure something out." They each took long drinks of their beer and, in the twilight, Scott's gaze found Lucy. She fit right in among the Weres. In fact, her entire family seemed to get along. He wondered if their histories in foster care made accepting new people easier. They'd learned to make family out of strangers. Their openness humbled Scott and he was grateful Lucy had them in her life. Her grandmother had given them each a gift—love. Because of Lucy's unbelievable ability to love, she'd not only found place for him in her heart, but also for each of his children. Ross ran up to her and gave her a quick hug. Lucy bent down and ruffled his hair before he ran back to tumbling with one of the nephews. "Oh, and I heard Mona and Lucy talking earlier, you might want to have another discussion about Weres with your human." Scott turned to Chris who looked undeniably amused. "Yeah? About what?" "Well, it seems like your Lucy might have a few mating misconceptions. Something about puppies." Scott chuckled. "We've already had that discussion." Chris shrugged. "You know females. It doesn't matter which breed, once they get something in their heads, it takes work to change it." "Damn. I hope Mona set her straight." 173
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"She did, but I foresee many long discussions about werewolf pups before she gives you a chance to have another one. And you definitely should—you and Lucy will have pretty pups—once she's absolutely certain she won't be having a litter." Scott groaned and it must have been louder than he intended because it caught Lucy's attention. She left the party for a moment and, with her expression so playful, Scott wasn't surprised when she settled in his lap, plucked his beer from his hand and took a drink. "Enjoying your first pack party, Lucy?" Chris asked dryly. "Are you enjoying your first Jamieson party, Alpha?" she replied. "We used to have evenings like this all the time when my grandmother was alive. We're going to be better about having them now. With all these kids, they need to know each other." He'd loved Lucy from nearly their first meeting, and every time she spoke of family and her affection for them, her words cemented his love. The instant approval from the alpha also added a layer of pride for Scott. "I am very much enjoying my first Jamieson party," Chris said, raising his beer in salute. "Here's to many more collaborative pack-and-Jamieson parties in the future. I have a feeling they'll be good for everyone." Lucy reached across and tapped her commandeered bottle neck to Chris's. "I like how you think." They each took a drink and Scott smiled when Lucy offered him his beer. He took a sip and settled her deeper into his lap. 174
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"Looks like my mate could use a hand," Chris said and sauntered out to where pups and kids alike surrounded Mona. Scott, more relaxed than he'd ever been, snuggled Lucy. He'd been close enough to see and occasionally touch her all evening, but this was the first they'd been able to have at least a semi-private moment. "If I promise on the lives of my kids that you will never have a puppy, do you think we might finish this day with me making love to you?" She laughed and turned away from where she'd been watching the kids as well. "Did Mona tell you I asked about it?" "Chris did," he admitted. "And really, I promise—no puppies. Not now, not ever. They don't mature enough to shift until they're well into their teens." She sighed and settled back in his arms. "I believe you, but you know? I think we should wait a while for any pup- or baby-thoughts." "You're going to want a baby as soon as the boys are fully into puberty and Jessie is in the preteen-from-hell stage, aren't you?" She laughed again and shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "I thought so." "Oh, come on, it'll be fun," she protested. "And think of all the fun practice we'll have until we decide to have one." "Practice?" That sounded mighty nice. "Yeah, you have the best ideas." "I do have my brilliant moments." 175
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She took his beer again and sipped. He didn't care, they'd share everything for the rest of their lives. Which reminded him. "Hey, do you prefer popcorn or ice cream when you're watching a movie?" "Depends." "On?" "On the company. If I were watching one on my own, popcorn. If I were, say, watching one with you like this, just the two of us, I think ice cream would be better. Less drying." Lucy Jamieson: girl of his dreams. [Back to Table of Contents]
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About Stephanie Beck www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?mainpage=authors &authorsid=130 Keeping one foot in reality and the other in la-la land makes Stephanie Beck happy. She's never met a werewolf (that she knows of) but she has knitted and purled many rows and she's also fallen in love. Maintaining a balance of reality and extraordinary events in romance, especially paranormal romance, keeps Stephanie tumbling head over heels with each new character, guaranteeing many more love stories in her werewolf world. Visit Stephanie's website for patterns, crafts and recipes on her 'Crafty Paranormal' page. Learn how to make Mona's delicious s'more pancakes from A Winter Tale With Marshmallows and from Unraveling Midnight, find a pattern for Lucy's Fuzzy Scarf. Stephanie's Website: www.stephaniebeck.net Reader eMail:
[email protected]
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