For Love of Grace [Werewolves Wanting Love 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Adams

  Grace had spent a lot of time home alone as a child, but it’d never bothered her. Other children were constantly inviting their friends over for play dates, but not her. Both Grace’s parents worked and she was aware later on they’d never been quite truthful about their arrangements for her childcare. It seemed once she’d been eight or nine, each parent had told anyone who asked after her that the other one was watching her. Grace was happy alone. There was a library in walking distance and she borrowed a lot of books and puzzles from there. She enjoyed watching the Discovery Channel and The History Channel on TV. But mostly she was content to be alone, reading, writing, or drawing, doing puzzles, or just staring up at the sky and dreaming.

  Some days she heaved a sigh of relief when her parents raced out of the apartment and she was alone. Solitude suited her. At college she’d perfected the art of finding empty spaces when she wanted to read or work. By the time she’d graduated, her grandma had been ill so instead of getting an apartment of her own she’d moved in with her and worked from home. Grandma Julie loved solitude and silence as much as Grace did, so theirs was a quiet, restful relationship.

  When her grandmother had passed on, Grace knew that when the lease expired the rent would be raised and she’d have to leave. Having an entire apartment that was all hers, where no one could dispossess her, where she could shut the door and expect to be left alone, this was heaven.

  The only problem was she was also ready to be married. She longed for a man who understood her body and also understood her need for peace. She confidently expected that Jarin would give her world-class orgasms. Unfortunately, she was equally sure he’d drive her mad with his need to dominate her, control her, and direct her life. Mark, on the other hand, was much gentler and just as nice to look at, but she thought he might be content to sit and watch her do whatever she wanted to do, and that would send her crazy just as quickly as Jarin’s attitude would.

  She’d attended the mating party because her grandfather wanted her to, and also because she was interested in meeting more men. Not one of them had made her pulse pound. In fact, the most fun she’d had was in the dancing class each day. She’d even won a dance competition on the final night. She’d loved dancing and the outpouring of energy the exercise provided. It was one time when noise hadn’t bothered her at all, and the music pounding in the room had been echoed by the pounding of her blood in her body as she’d danced.

  So now she was back in Vulture Valley, with her grandfather and her own little apartment. If she could lock the door and stay away from Jarin, Mark, and everyone else, life would be perfect.

  Chapter Three

  “No matter how hard I try, I can’t think of anything more romantic than watching the sun rise, or possibly set, over the Grand Canyon,” said Mark, running his hands through his hair. They’d moved out to the kitchen of his house, and were eating fries he’d baked in the oven.

  “That could work.” Jarin dipped another fry in ketchup.

  Mark stared at the fry and said, “Women like different types of food from men. If we had strawberries and dipped them into chocolate, she might like that.”

  “Champagne. We’ll take a blanket to sit on and the strawberries and chocolate and champagne. With real flutes, not paper cups.” Jarin waved his fry around as he spoke and Mark waited for the ketchup to go flying across the room. Fortunately, just then Jarin put the fry in his mouth.

  “So far, so good. But how do we get her to agree to come with us?” Mark felt certain she’d say no to any suggestion they made.

  “Simple. We kidnap her.”

  “No. Absolutely not. That will turn her against both of us instead of just against you.”

  “What do you mean?” Jarin looked hurt and Mark realized he genuinely didn’t understand.

  “Part of her problem with you is that you try to make her do what you want, instead of asking her what she wants,” explained Mark.

  “But I know she’ll like watching the sun rise with us.”

  “No, she won’t, because you forced her to do it instead of asking her.” Mark had to struggle to prevent his voice rising, and from grabbing the nearest hard object to try to knock some sense into the stupid vulture’s head.

  “You mean she won’t like it because we chose it? Just because we chose it? That’s insane.”

  “Not just because we chose it. Because we chose it and made her do it, instead of consulting her.”

  “Oh.”

  Mark sat back and waited for real life to penetrate Jarin’s brain.

  “Right. So we get the blanket, the strawberries, the chocolate, and the champagne, and then we ask her to come with us to watch the sun rise,” said Jarin.

  “Or we could ask her if she’d prefer seeing the sun rise or watching it set,” hinted Mark.

  Jarin stared at him. Mark waited to see a light bulb appear above his friend’s head, or at the very least a sparkle return to the vulture’s brooding black eyes.

  “You really think that’ll help? Asking her stuff? I love her, Mark. I want her so bad.”

  “I love her, too. I’ve loved her for so long. I can remember when she used to wear her long blonde hair out, and it’d fly around her face as the wind caught it. I always wondered if that was why she started tying it up. To stop it getting tangled. But I long to take it out again and watch her run, and ride that dirt bike with her hair streaming behind her.” Mark’s breath hitched. He wanted Grace so much it hurt. He had so many memories of her. Grace laughing. Grace sitting on a rock. Grace climbing out of the canyon, her ass wiggling enticingly ahead of him.

  Jarin’s gaze was still distant, so Mark guessed he was scrolling through his own memories of Grace. Mark wasn’t certain asking her permission would work. Likely she’d say no a few times. But surely it would demonstrate to her that they valued her opinions and that they cared for her and wanted her to be happy.

  “We need to set some ground rules about making love to Grace,” he said firmly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I can’t risk you snatching her and kissing her and fucking up the romance for me as well as for yourself.”

  Jarin picked up the ketchup bottle and held it high in the air. Mark stared at his friend. “If you smash that bottle you’ll be cleaning this kitchen. If you want to have a temper tantrum, why don’t you go outside and throw a few rocks across the empty desert, and come back when you’re reading to act like a civilized human being.”

  Jarin set the bottle down onto the table. “I’m a vulture. We’re much more civilized than you wolves.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mark would never agree with that statement but it seemed the danger of Jarin having a meltdown had passed.

  Jarin picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup. Mark thought likely they’d be cold by now but Jarin didn’t seem to notice as he bit into it.

  “Let’s plan this thing out properly. And then we’ll ask Grace what she wants,” said Jarin.

  Mark hid his grin. He was certain their best chances of winning their woman were by working together. It seemed that Jarin was about to cooperate.

  * * * *

  Grace was happy. First she’d sat silently in the center of her apartment picturing her possessions arranged in different ways. It had been good to have Mark and Jarin’s help with the heavy things. She would have had to disassemble her bed to move it, whereas they’d just taken the mattress and bedding off and then brought the frame in, set the bed down, and put the bedding back on it.

  They’d put her bookcase against the wall, beside the TV, but Grace moved it, turning it into a room divider between the living area and her sleeping area. That way it gave her a little more privacy. Then she dragged the first box of books over to the shelf and began sorting through them. These were all old friends, stories she read and reread hundreds of times over the years.

  Grace emptied box after box, sorting the books into alphabetical order by author, then each series of books by an author into reading order. Yeah, some peopl
e would call her anal, but she liked everything nice and organized.

  By the time most of her books were unpacked she was ready for lunch. She’d unpacked some of the kitchen things while her breakfast cooked. Now she dragged the last few boxes of cooking supplies across to that area and rummaged through them. She really needed to go shopping soon, but for that she’d have to borrow her grandfather’s truck. Likely he’d need some shopping done as well. Perhaps she should offer that they go together.

  But for now she wanted to finish her unpacking.

  By midafternoon almost everything was finished. Grace stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed her territory, her kingdom, her home. It looked good with her few paintings on the walls, and a bright rug hanging over the back of the bookshelf, making a wall ornament for her bedroom area.

  She showered away the sweat from unpacking, and dressed in fresh jeans and one of her favorite T-shirts, then picked up a notepad and pen and wrote herself a shopping list. Not wanting to have to carry a purse, she stuck her sunglasses on her head, and shoved her wallet and house key in the back pocket of her jeans. Finally, she locked her door, sighing with pleasure as she did. Her door, her home, her private space.

  Her grandfather was in the sunroom, where he spent a lot of his day. He wasn’t just lying on the bed, though, but was playing a game of Scrabble on Facebook with some friends. She grinned at him. That was one of the advantages of modern technology. If no one in the small town he lived in wanted to play Scrabble, it didn’t matter. He could always find a willing competitor online.

  “Grandpa, I was planning on going shopping. Is there anything you need? Or would you like to come as well? Can you pause your game?”

  “Hell no. If I stop now this asshole will find a way of getting to the triple word score tile.”

  “Is there something you’d like for dinner then?”

  “Chicken. I haven’t had chicken in ages.”

  “Sure. I need to take the truck to transport everything I want to buy.”

  “Key’s on the hook.”

  Grace took the truck key and had a quick look in the refrigerator, checking the old man still had plenty of milk, juice, bread, cheese, and butter. It wasn’t far to the general store, less than a quarter mile. Maybe she should buy herself one of those trolleys on wheels to carry her shopping instead of needing to use the truck. It was really such a pretty day, walking was a pleasure.

  By the time she returned home, Mark and Jarin were there talking to her grandfather. She put the things she’d bought for him away and then began preparing chicken, rice, and vegetables for four, instead of for two. Just as well I bought a whole chicken, otherwise we’d be eating mostly rice and vegetables.

  Mark stepped into the kitchen. “Do you need any help, Grace? I can chop and stir or wash the vegetables for you.”

  Grace smiled at him. He was always thoughtful and caring. “Thanks for asking, Mark, but I’ve got everything under control. By the time the rice is cooked, the vegetables will be ready as well.”

  He went back to sit with her grandfather and a little while later Jarin appeared.

  “Can I make the coffee for you? Or set the table, maybe?”

  Grace was impressed. “Thank you, Jarin.” She handed him plates and cutlery and started the coffee bubbling. Both men had worked smoothly, ensuring the old man wasn’t left alone, yet they were still a good help to her as well. She appreciated their thoughtfulness.

  She enjoyed the meal very much. The conversation flowed across so many topics, and they were all contributing to it and having fun. Now her grandfather wasn’t in pain all the time, he was busy recounting all sorts of stories from his past and of people he’d met.

  “Did you meet any interesting people at the mating party, Grace?” asked Mark.

  She wondered if he was specifically meaning men, but she said, “I met Dorothea, who accompanied us back to the shape-shifter clinic. She’s an events planner. I also met the women who taught the dance classes, Ebony and Ivory. I really enjoyed their classes. It was more like an exercise class really, but an excellent workout and a lot of fun as well. Another person I spoke to sometimes is Heather. She owns the florist shop at Hanson Mall.”

  Mark spoke slowly. “Hanson Mall. I’ve heard of that pack. They sold their pack lands and built a shopping mall, right?”

  “Yes. It was a very clever idea because now they have a great way to make money, plus plenty of jobs for their people as well. I thought I might go visit Heather some time just to look at what the pack has done.”

  “Would you like us to escort you there? Where is it?” asked Jarin.

  “It’s in Ohio, so I wouldn’t be going there any time soon. And next time I’ll catch an airplane. The road trips from here to the shape-shifter clinic with Grandpa and then back here with my things were fun, but that’s enough. Next time I fly.”

  “Where else would you like to visit?” asked Jarin.

  Grace leaned back in her chair as her grandfather began talking. His face was bright with happiness which was so different from how he’d been with the wound on his hip. He loved the company of these men, as well.

  They were both so very nice to look at. Jarin was stunning with his long black curls and bright black eyes, and Mark was just as attractive with his broad shoulders and gentle manner. None of the men at the DADISP had made her heart beat faster and her panties dampen the way these men did. But she couldn’t allow them to get close to her. Jarin would boss her around and insist she do and be what he wanted. Mark wouldn’t permit her to be alone all the time. He’d insist on staying with her. There’d be no peace in her life once these men were allowed into it. Damn it!

  * * * *

  “Grace, would you like to watch the sun come up over the Grand Canyon with us one day soon? Or perhaps you’d prefer to watch the sun set? Mark and I would like to share the experience with you,” said Jarin.

  Jarin watched her anxiously. He’d planned that sentence for hours, trying to make sure it was asking her, not telling her. Wanting her to know that it was her choice, yet still to acknowledge how much he and Mark wanted to spend time with her.

  Damn, it was difficult. He’d never understood just how hard it was to catch a woman. He’d always assumed the “kiss her senseless” approach would work. Hell, it’d been a winner for him in the past. But Grace wasn’t any woman. Grace was the woman he’d been in love with for years now and who continued to ignore him. The only time he’d managed to kiss her before she’d gotten away from him, she’d wiped her sleeve over her mouth afterward. That’d almost killed him. No one had ever done that to his kisses before. He’d begun to think he’d totally lost his skill.

  Even now he found it hard to believe the main problem was that he needed to ask her nicely. Didn’t she understand he spent hours planning his time with her, designing every tiny detail to give her pleasure? Apparently not. So now he waited as patiently as he could for her to agree to come to the canyon with him and Mark.

  And that was another thing. Fucking Mark. Mark was a good man, a great friend. But having to share Grace with him—assuming they could capture her first—was a hard decision to make. Vultures weren’t very good at sharing. Not like wolves who’d had to learn how to do it. Well, if the only way to have Grace agree to be with him was to share her with Mark, he’d do it.

  But first she had to answer him and so far she was silent.

  When she answered she spoke so slowly that he almost ripped his hair out with the agony of waiting for her answer.

  “I’d like to walk down into the canyon again before the tourist season begins. So perhaps if we watched the sun rise, then we could do a canyon walk.”

  “You’d permit us to come with you?” asked Mark.

  “I was thinking of a longer walk, all the way down to Red Canyon. Much as I’d like going alone I know that wouldn’t be smart.”

  “Red Canyon is too far. You’ll need to stay there overnight. I don’t want you hiking out of the canyon after dar
k,” said the old man.

  “If we start at dawn—”

  “No, Grace. There are not enough hours of daylight. You need to wait until midsummer if you really want to do it in a single day,” said Jarin. Then he hoped she wouldn’t think he was being annoying. But still. Red Canyon was a hell of a walk. It took a couple of hours to go down to the floor of the canyon, likely four hours to Red Canyon, another hour looking around when she got there… Nope. It was too much hiking to be completed in daylight. Even in midsummer it was a demanding hike and it was damn hot then as well.

  “I’d like to spend extra time at Red Canyon anyway. There are some trails there I’ve never explored. Grandpa, will you mind if I’m gone for a couple of days? I know I promised to cook for you, but I can leave some things ready.”

  “Make me a coconut-honey cake before you leave and I’ll be fine.”

  Jarin just stared at the old man but Grace laughed. Okay, it must be one of their family jokes. The good news was that she wanted them to come with her. That was amazing. Of course, it might kill him having to remember to ask her all the time instead of just protecting her, but with a night together in the canyon surely he could make some progress. Damn it, he would kiss her even if he ended up getting his face slapped. He needed to show her that he wanted her in the most carnal possible way.

  * * * *

  Mark planned the trip into Red Canyon over and over again in his mind. His backpack was going to be damn heavy, but he wanted to have on hand anything he might need to please Grace.

  Their breakfast things would stay up on the rim. They’d just put them back in the truck, but food, water, and a sleeping roll, would all have to be carried. There wasn’t fresh water in Red Canyon. They could fill up their water bottles before they moved away from the Colorado River. Here the river was uncontaminated and fast flowing, so perfectly safe to drink. The fish in it were safe to eat as well, but he planned to bring plenty of food. He liked the idea of them all sitting around a campfire roasting corn in the coals and hot dogs on sticks.