Yours, Mine and Howls: Werewolves in Love, Book 2

by Kinsey W. Holley

  “That’s okay.” She laughed self-consciously, in a weirdly high pitch. “Shawn said that was your nanny peeling out of here.” MacDougall frowned. Belatedly, she remembered Shawn’s warning. “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t supposed to…I mean, Shawn said not to ask… And I wasn’t, I was just…”

  Crap. She’d already pissed him off.

  When she glanced up, he was smirking at her. The more she tried not to blush, the more she blushed. Just before her face spontaneously combusted, Dylan dashed out of the house.

  A sincere smile replaced MacDougall’s arrogant grin as he watched his nephew run toward them.

  “Ally! You gotta see the house, it’s awesome! Did you know I’m Scottish?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, baby, I did. When I heard your father’s last name was MacDougall, I kinda figured.” She turned to Cade. “Dylan spent the first semester of his senior year on a study program in Scotland.”

  “You enjoy it, Dylan? My dad was very proud of our heritage.”

  “Yeah— I mean, yes, sir. I did.”

  “So where’d you go for your senior trip?” Cade asked as the three of them headed for the house.

  “Oh God, please don’t get him started,” Ally groaned.

  “I didn’t get a chance to go,” the teenager muttered. “We came up here instead.”

  “You mean they dragged you up here before you had one last fling with your bros?” MacDougall threw an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. Something proprietary and offended flared within her. She mentally slapped herself. She’d brought him up here to meet his uncle, to find him a pack, to let him go.

  “He’s been to Florida a dozen times already,” she said with forced lightheartedness. “And I know he’s been drunk before, even though he thinks he’s good at sneaking.”

  MacDougall grinned at her over his shoulder, and she had to remind herself to breathe again.

  She scrambled to keep up with the two long-legged wolves. MacDougall, a hair taller than Dylan, swaggered with an easy grace the teenager was just beginning to exhibit.

  Shawn appeared on the porch as they climbed the front steps. “I’ll pack up Mrs. Palmer’s stuff. Ally can have her room.” He grinned at Ally. “It has a huge bathroom.” He turned to Cade. “Chicks dig big bathrooms.”

  “That won’t work.” Cade turned to look down at her. They were standing so close she had to tip her head back to see his face. He smelled wonderful—musky and male, with an overlay of sweet tobacco.

  Humans couldn’t make eye contact with alphas, and she avoided doing things humans couldn’t do, so she had to stare at his mouth. Her fingers itched as she imagined running one over his mustache and then down across his firm, wide bottom lip. His black beard, close-trimmed, looked soft to the touch. She’d never kissed a guy with a beard before. What would it feel like on her neck?

  She looked eighteen. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling eighteen.

  “That room connects to Becca’s with a door that doesn’t lock. You won’t get any peace. She likes to ramble.”

  “Becca’s your daughter?”

  His smile this time was tender, erasing all signs of his earlier annoyance. If she could’ve looked at his eyes, she knew she’d see the smile there. “She just turned four. I have no idea what happened with Mrs. Palmer today. This house has some kind of nanny-repelling force.”

  Trailing Cade, Shawn and Dylan into the house, Ally found herself in a large entryway filled with light pouring in from the window above the front door. To the left was a large office, to the right an open room with a dining table that could seat twenty people easily. The foyer led into a cavernous living room made even bigger by a cathedral ceiling.

  An open staircase led up to the second story, a loft ringed by an elaborately carved banister. She saw at least six rooms up there.

  The back wall of the living room featured a massive fireplace with inlaid stones. Mounted in the stones above the fireplace was a coat of arms. She’d seen things like it in faux British pubs, but this one looked much more impressive. She noticed that Dec was staring at it with a strange expression on his face.

  “I’ve never seen a coat of arms in someone’s house before,” she said.

  “It’s not a coat of arms, darlin’. That’s the crest badge of the Clan MacDougall,” he murmured.

  “Is it the same as a coat of arms?”

  “No. A crest badge identifies a particular Scottish clan. Coats of arms belong to families or individuals.”

  “You’re gonna tell me you can read it, aren’t you?”

  “It’s Scottish Gaelic. It can mean either Victory or Death, or Conquer or Die.” He grinned, winked, and wandered off to look at something else.

  A door to the right of the fireplace led into another room behind the wall. The huge chimney she’d seen sticking out of the middle of the roof must be for a double fireplace. The walls and floors were constructed of light-colored wood, with no sheetrock or carpeting. The Scandinavian-style furniture and plush area rugs spoke of understated wealth.

  Dylan was right. This was indeed awesome. She couldn’t live here, she reflected wistfully, but she hoped he could.

  A little girl called out, “Daddy?”

  Cade sighed. “I knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep after all that commotion.”

  “I’ll go find Sindri,” said Shawn.

  “No, don’t bother him. I’ll get her.” He called upstairs. “Hang on, Baby Girl. I’ll be up there in just a minute.”

  She fancied she could feel his breath on her neck all the way up the stairs.

  When they reached the second floor and halted outside a large room, she saw her luggage on the bed.

  “As I was saying, Becca gets up at night and goes walkabout. She’s wide awake when she does it. She’ll normally head for the nanny’s room and if no one’s there, she comes downstairs to me. You probably won’t want—”

  “Kids don’t bother Ally.” Dec emerged from a bedroom across the landing. “Like I was telling you, she loves the little monsters as much as she does the horses.”

  Cade shot him an annoyed sneer. Pack Alphas didn’t like to be interrupted. But he raised an eyebrow at her. “You like horses and kids?”

  “I’ve nannied a little. I’ve run a stable for the past few years. I do teach kids to ride.”

  “Do you teach them how to swim?”

  She gasped. “How’d you know I swim?”

  “I smell the chlorine.”

  “Oh. I, um, I swam at the hotel this morning and I didn’t wash my hair. I did take a shower, though.” Shut up, Ally. She blushed.

  Cade smiled.

  Her breath stuck in her throat again.

  “There’s a swimming pool in the gym. It doesn’t get used as much as it should. You’re welcome to it anytime you want.

  “That’s perfect!” She hadn’t meant to squeal, and she blushed again. “I wondered where I’d find a pool. Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll show it to you after dinner.”

  “I don’t mind staying next door to your daughter. Don’t go to the trouble of fixing another room. Besides, Shawn’s right about chicks and big bathrooms.”

  Cade smiled. “Fine. We can always move you if Becca gets on your nerves. I’ll let you get unpacked.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dec hung back for a second. In a falsetto voice he whispered, “I did take a shower though!”

  “Shut up, fur face.” She said it with affection.

  After getting the last, most disturbing of his guests squared away and Becca engrossed in a movie about cats, he joined Michael outside on the porch.

  “So? What do you think?” his second asked.

  “I think she’s fucking cute.” I bet she’s cute fucking too. He surprised himself. He didn’t normally go for cute.

  “Okay… I was talking about the situation in general.” Michael eyed him skeptically.

  “Oh. Well. I think the kid looks more like Carson than me—it kind of hurts to se
e him, to tell you the truth.” He paused. “There’s something weird about the Irishwolf.”

  “Like what?”

  “You didn’t feel it? He doesn’t feel like any beta I’ve ever met.”

  “Seems like a nice guy.”

  “And Ally Kendall—if she told me she was a senior in high school, I’d believe her.”

  Michael laughed. “Since when do you find high school girls fucking cute?”

  Good point. Cade wasn’t into jailbait.

  “What kind of vibe did you get off them?” Michael was aware of his uncanny gift for reading people. Cade’s mother had always insisted he tell no one about his semi-telepathic abilities. She said it would make others uncomfortable. As an adult he didn’t advertise it because it was so useful in business, poker and pack politics.

  He sank into a rocker and ran a hand through his hair. “Guidry’s a good guy—solid, honest. Something’s got him scared, though. There’s something he’s not telling me, and I don’t know if it’s just him, or all of them. Dylan’s feeling shy and scared, which is understandable. That MacSorley guy is just damned weird.”

  “And Ally?”

  Cade smiled to himself, remembering how she’d blushed when she’d blurted out what Shawn had said. The surprising strength of her grip, the alluring softness of her hand. The way she’d kept fiddling with her hair and glancing up at him, the weird pauses and nervous laughter.

  Normally he could tell if a woman wanted him, but he couldn’t read what Ally Kendall was thinking or feeling. She blushed, she laughed, she seemed nervous, she seemed nice—it was all surface impressions. He couldn’t get a handle on her.

  “Hello?” Michael, perched on the porch railing with his arms crossed, was smirking at him. “Hot foster mama getting to you? You seem a little flustered there, Alpha.”

  Cade blew out a long breath and snorted. “Flustered my ass. I was just thinking, I can tell she loves the pup. Other than that, she just seems…I dunno. Wholesome. Yeah. She’s wholesome.”

  Allison Kendall radiated wholesomeness. She smelled of lavender and sunshine and swimming pools, he thought with a smile. And Michael was right about the body. She was all curves and muscles. He’d enjoyed the view walking up the stairs.

  He couldn’t understand how thirty-one-year-old tits could look eighteen, even if her face did. And what a great face, with gray eyes and a little snub nose. When she smiled, she showed dimples deep enough to swim in. The fresh-faced innocence look didn’t normally do it for him, but…

  But hell. She was his nephew’s foster mother. His dick would have to wait until he got to Denver.

  He stood and stretched. “I’m gonna go check on Baby Girl, and then I’m going for a run. I haven’t been four-footed in days. Make sure Aaron tells you how it went after he talks to Rufus.”

  “Got it. Later.”

  Did she have time to take a quick nap before dinner? She should go ask what time…

  “Daddy? Daddy! Where are you?” The cross little voice came from next door.

  Ally heard tiny feet slapping rapidly across the hardwood floor. A miniature replica of Cade MacDougall—longer hair, Winnie the Pooh panties, no beard—ran into the room. The child stopped when she saw Ally.

  “Who are you?” Mini-Cade demanded.

  “I’m Ally. Your daddy’s down the hall. Want to go see him?”

  The beautiful little girl looked a lot like Dylan too. Her green eyes took up half her face. “I’m Becca.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m a cat.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Pick me up.”

  “Okay.”

  They regarded each other for a moment.

  Becca said, “My tummy hurts,” and vomited down the front of Ally’s T-shirt.

  Chapter Seven

  As he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Becca gulping and sniffling while Allison Kendall soothed her.

  “Here, baby, let me help you. It’s okay, you’re fine…”

  He hurried to the bathroom.

  “Daddy!” Becca wailed.

  “Hey, baby. You feel bad?”

  She scrunched her face in thought. “No.”

  Ally looked at him in the mirror and shrugged with a grin. “Kids puke. I see some chocolate chips in there.”

  “Goddamn it. I told Sindri to check with me before he gave her any cookies.”

  “Goddamn it’s a bad word, Daddy.”

  “Becca, where are your clothes?”

  A champion pouter, she stuck her bottom lip out halfway down her chin. “Cats don’t wear clothes,” she whined. “I kept my panties on like you told me.”

  Ally laughed. “If you’ll throw me a washcloth, I’ll sponge her off. It’s all over her face and chest.” It was all over Ally as well, but she didn’t appear concerned. He watched as she sat Becca on the counter and briskly wiped her down. When all the solid chunks were gone, Cade scooped her up.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get you in the bath and let Ally get cleaned up. Thank you,” he said to Ally as Becca wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. She still smelled like vomit. He gave her a squeeze. “How did she manage to get it all over you, anyway?”

  “I was holding her. She ordered me to pick her up, and I just obeyed. I didn’t even know they made alpha toddlers.”

  He laughed. “Sorry about that—Baby Girl’s a little bossy sometimes. Sindri and the wolves indulge her.” He hadn’t made a move to leave yet, and he didn’t want to.

  “Who’s Sindri?”

  “He looks after the house for me and takes care of Rebecca when we’re between nannies, like now.”

  She sponged off her T-shirt as they talked, remarkably unselfconscious. He couldn’t look away. There was nothing coy or flirtatious about Ally Kendall, and it made him feel slightly ashamed for enjoying the unintentional wet T-shirt demo. She didn’t appear to notice his fascination.

  “You’re pretty comfortable with kiddy slime. Lots of guys get grossed out at this sort of thing.”

  “I spent eleven years in the Army. Plus, I roll around in the dirt and eat small animals raw. Takes a lot to gross me out.”

  She grinned at him. He had the strangest, strongest urge to stick his finger in one of those dimples.

  “I know what you mean. I live with three wolves, so I don’t gross that easily either. Long as they don’t shed on the furniture or bring their roadkill in the house, I don’t care what they do when they’re furry.”

  He laughed as he carried Becca back to her room.

  He wanted to see those dimples again.

  A short but heavy nap, followed by a hot shower, left her feeling calmer and more optimistic than she had in weeks. Then a subdued Seth stopped by her room on the way down to dinner.

  He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, dark circles under his hazel eyes and a worried expression on his face.

  “You okay?”

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m worried about you,” both said at the same time.

  “Okay, you first,” she said.

  “The Lind thing. Stop blaming yourself.”

  “I blame myself because it’s my fault.”

  “It’s your fault the guy attacked you?”

  “It’s my fault I didn’t tell y’all or Tomas when he wouldn’t quit calling me. It’s my fault I threw him across the stable.”

  “What were you supposed to do? Let him beat you up?”

  “I was supposed to find some way out of the situation instead of losing control. And it’s my fault I used Dylan to get out of Houston.”

  “No!” He folded his arms tightly in front of him, hunching up like he did when he was stressed. “No. You weren’t using him. We had to bring him up here anyway. He had to meet his uncle. Why else have you been protecting him all this time? If his line’s precious to Eir, he needs to be with them, yeah?”

  “But we did it so suddenly, and now I’m not sure it
was necessary.” She began to pace, a nervous habit that irritated the stolid Seth. “I haven’t had any signs or anything from Eir in thirteen years. How do I know I was supposed to bring him up here? We’re in a strange place with strange wolves and I could lose both of you and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do next and I…”

  He threw his arms around her and held her close. She rested her head on his shoulder as she took deep, long breaths to calm herself. Panic never helped.

  “Keep it together, Dead Girl. You can’t lose us. But MacDougall’s smart. He’ll see right through bullshit. And he’s gonna want to know what we’ve been doing, how Dylan grew up.”

  “Okay. Yes. Yeah, he will.” She gave Seth a brilliant smile full of confidence she knew he knew damned well she didn’t really feel. “We’ll handle questions just like we always do, okay? Nothing to worry about.”

  They’d been spinning the stories for so long they didn’t even think about it. Nothing threw them anymore. This was just a momentary stress attack.

  “Do you trust me?” Seth asked.

  “What? That’s a silly question.”

  “So answer it. You trust me?”

  “Of course I do. With my life. And with my death.” She laughed.

  He didn’t. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

  Cade walked into the kitchen to find Sindri deep in conversation with the Irishwolf. He struggled to remember the name—Donal, David…Declan. Declan MacSorley. Sindri didn’t generally speak to strangers in the house. Even weirder was the language they were conversing in.

  They looked up to see him watching them. Sindri frowned, but MacSorley gave him a relaxed smile. Cade didn’t return it.

  “You speak Icelandic, Mr. MacSorley.”

  “Just a wee bit.” The Irishwolf appeared unfazed at Cade’s brusque interruption.

  “My mother and Sindri are the only people I’ve ever met who could speak it.”

  “There aren’t many Icelanders roaming the globe, that’s true. Aren’t many Icelanders, period, come to think of it.”

  “Is there—?” He stopped short when he saw the Irishwolf flinch, although Cade hadn’t moved a muscle. MacSorley’s careless grin faltered as he gazed over Cade’s shoulder with a strange expression.