“Where are Leah and Ying? We were going to go over the results of those test samples during lunch for the new line of moisturizers Marty wants.”
Astrid made a face. “Why do they always have to eat lunch with us? They’re simple and crude.”
Mara tilted her head. “They’re just like us, Astrid. Just as smart, and we have a lot of things in common. That’s why they eat lunch with us. Why do you almost always object?”
“Because they’re not as smart as us, and you know it.”
She didn’t have it in her to soothe Astrid’s unwarranted ruffled feathers. Today, of all days, she didn’t want to cajole and coax her friend into eating a stupid sandwich at a table where two other women sat.
It was ridiculous under normal circumstances. In light of this day’s tragedies, it was just intolerable. “Look, Astrid. I don’t know why you have a beef with the other girls. They all like you. But it’s becoming irritating. Now, I’m going to go find Leah and Jiaying and have some lunch. Either come or don’t.”
She didn’t give her the chance to become angry or petty about the other girls. She turned on her heel and fought her way through the atrium to the cafeteria, leaving Astrid undoubtedly huffy.
Her phone buzzed then, making her frown. God, she hoped Harry was okay. Nina had left him in charge of Carl, so she could grab some vampire sleep, with strict orders to treat the zombie like a mischievous child who needed to be kept on track. Nina had decided Harry needed some sensitivity training where Carl was concerned, and she was throwing him into the training pool whether he liked it or not.
In the last text he’d sent, Harry said Carl had turned to her plastic vegetables and a chair leg to feed his never-ending hunger.
But it wasn’t Harry texting her at all, it was Marty. She wanted to see Mara ASAP.
Oh, God. That could mean only one thing. Keegan knew. The wrath of Attila the Older Brother wasn’t far off. It was his responsibility, as alpha pack male, to handle things like this, and somehow he’d found out what a dirty, dirty pool player slash baby-maker she was.
She’d been found out. It was over. Hello, orange and bars on your window.
On stiff feet, Mara flew up the escalator, running the steps rather than utilizing the electric movement.
* * *
“WE have a problem.”
Another alarming thought stole her breath on her way to Marty’s office. Harry’s niece and nephew. Had they seen something? Her heart began pumping again, beads of sweat forming on her brow. “Are Fletcher and Mimi okay?” She swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted was for her egregious error to harm them.
Marty smiled from behind her large walnut desk. Her smile always warmed Mara. It was as much home as her mother’s used to be. With a click of her computer’s mouse, she was out of her chair and moving toward Mara, perfectly dressed in an empire-waist blue silk tunic with gold embroidery around the neckline, denim shrug, matching skinny jeans, and black pumps.
The ease with which she crossed the floor made Mara look down at her roughed-up white tennis shoes so Marty wouldn’t see her envy. Marty could run a marathon in heels, while Mara would trip just putting them on.
She gave Mara one of her infamous hugs and went to sit on the small couch in the corner of her office. “They’re fine. This morning, Wanda and I made pancakes with chocolate chip smiley faces and fresh strawberries, packed their lunches up, braided Mimi’s hair, made Fletcher put on underwear, kissed them on the top of their adorable heads, and dropped them off at school. They’re great kids, if not still in the business of taking advantage of Harry because he’s so uncomfortable and unsure in his new role. But worry not—there was no advantage-taking today. Not with us. They’re at school, safe and sound. Though, wow. Those car-pool ladies? You’d think they weren’t married women the way they looked at us when we told them we were two-thirds of Harry’s ménage.”
It sounded like a morning similar to Hollis’s, one Mara had witnessed time and again until she’d moved out. Marty was an amazing mother and Hollis was well-adjusted, if not precocious, because of it.
Wait. Ménage. Oh, God. “You did not say that to them.”
Marty threw her head back and laughed out loud. “No. But I wanted to. We kept it easy and simple to thwart any questions or create any more lies we’d have to keep track of. But those women.” She cringed. “If death by eyeball daggers were possible, we’d be deader than Nina. Oh, they’re awful, and obvious. Painfully obvious. Harry should count his lucky stars Nina wasn’t there. It would have been far worse than any verbal damage Wanda and I could do. Anyway, that’s not the problem I’m talking about.”
Terror raced in Mara’s veins. Keegan knew. He was going to have to handcuff his own sister and drag her off to lycanthropic prison where she’d eat gruel and pound out license plates between her shifts in the laundry room. “Before you say anything, I know. I’m sorry, Marty. I swear, I never meant for any of this to get so far out of hand. I know this could be an issue for you and Keegan if you keep it from him. I would never want to come between you two. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just . . .” What had she just? Just been looking to find an easy way out of hunting down a real relationship and doing the hard stuff that came with it because she’d been rejected? Just impatient?
Marty patted the red leather couch in her office with a hand. “That’s not what this is about. Come sit with me.”
Mara trudged to the couch like she was headed for her death and plunked down next to the sister-in-law she loved.
Marty tucked a knee beneath her, her eyes inviting and kind just like they always were. “First, not in a million years would I snitch to Keegan about this because we’re family, Mara. Always. And no way am I handing you over to him just because he’s the alpha of our pack. No matter what, you’re family first, pack member second. Period. I won’t hear it any other way. And before you say anything, I console myself with the fact that keeping this from him for a time is what I consider paranormal crisis counselor-client confidentiality. That you happen to be a part of that crisis is neither here nor there.”
Relief washed over Mara, relief and gratitude. In this very moment, she was petrified of what would happen to Harry and his children. Her fear of the council was only secondary to helping Harry and the kids overcome their obstacles and adjust. She couldn’t do that if she was in the pokey. “Thank you,” she murmured low, because it was all she was capable of doing.
Marty lifted her chin, using her thumb to swipe at a stray tear on Mara’s cheek. “I want to talk about what you said about me yesterday.”
“What did I say yesterday?”
“You said you weren’t as good at charming people with your smile as I am, and that’s why you’re single. Why do I have anything to do with that?”
Mara let her head hang low with regret. “Poor choice of words. What I meant was, being with the opposite sex is easy for you.” She shook her head. “Wait. What I mean is you relate well to those outside of your gender. I guess . . . I guess I envy that. No. That’s not true. I totally envy it. Obviously, if I related better, I wouldn’t be making werewolf babies in a lab. I’d be rutting until the cows came home, making babies the good old-fashioned way.”
Marty chuckled. “And you’re smart. I envy that. So there. We should activate our Wonder Twin powers. Imagine the shit that would rain down, huh?”
Mara’s eyes filled with tears. She was tired, and worried, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Marty’s feelings. “I really love you, Marty. I hope you know that. Since you came into our lives, into the pack, everything’s been a million times better. Everything. I’m just really uncomfortable with men. You know, the norm. Small talk suckage, flirty suckage—I suck at all of it. You’re a pro. Which is why you have Keegan and I have a baby-making serum.”
“Oh, Mara. I wish you saw you the way we all see you.”
“Gee
ky, nerdy, timid?”
Marty shook her head, the swish of her blond hair artful and perfect against the color of her denim shrug. “Gorgeous, genius smart, so totally unaware you can have anything you want.”
Right. It always worked like that for women like her.
Marty cocked her head, taking Mara’s hand in her perfectly manicured fingers. “You have it bad for our Harry, don’t you, honey?”
“It borders on ridiculous.”
“Making this situation a hundred times more uncomfortable for you.”
“Times infinity.”
“You know, I’d give you tips on how to flirt and all sorts of pointers if I thought that was you, sweetie. But it’s not you, and that’s okay. I wish you’d see that. It might be helpful when catching the prey, but it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference when you want to keep it. What good does flirting do you when the hard stuff in a relationship comes along? Can you flirt yourself out of a financial hardship or a long-term medical issue? No. You need to be smart. You’re smart, Mara. So, so smart. You’re funny. You’re gorgeous. You’re gentle, and most of all, you’re kind. Don’t let that stop you from pursuing the things that you want—even after this is all water under the bridge.”
Was there water under the council’s prison bridge? Her grainy eyes filled with more unshed tears. She shook it off and laughed in irony, focusing on the flat screen TV in the far corner opposite the couch. “Well, I can want Harry for days, but he kind of has to want me back for it to work out.”
“I don’t just mean Harry. I’m not talking about a man, hunky Harry or otherwise. I mean wanting to parent.”
“But—”
She flapped a hand upward to hush Mara, her chunky costume ring on her finger flashing with the gesture. “Oh, I know what the pack says,” she said in that poo-poo way she had of dismissing something she didn’t approve of. “The pack says all sorts of things—all sorts of stupid things. Remember the things they said to me? Sure you do. You were there when they carried on about how bad humans mating with werewolves was blah, blah, blah. The pack is all bark and almost no bite. If you want to artificially inseminate yourself, it’s your damn body, and I’ll fight to the death to see you have the right to do as you please with it as long as you’re not harming yourself. The pack can suck it, as far as I’m concerned. Who are they to tell you, by whatever means you wish, you can’t have a baby?”
“A baby?” Keegan roared, bursting through Marty’s office door. Large and fit, his muscled build barreled to a stop in front of the women. “Mara’s having a baby?” he bellowed, which was essentially the Keegan way. If no one answered you, you just yelled louder.
Marty jumped up just as Mara’s face flushed red. She shrunk down into the cushiony softness of the couch while she watched Marty set about “handling” her brother. Marty was a pro at soothing Keegan’s rougher edges. They offset each other in every way—a balance no one watching the two of them together could deny.
“Is that any way to greet your wife?” Marty purred up at Keegan, cupping his lean jaw and running her fingers through his graying temple.
“Remiss me. Lay one on me, Mrs. Flaherty. Hollis is just outside that door, waiting for me to take her home so we can have princess tea. You know, boas, tiaras, tea in those cups the size of my thumb? So make it count,” he ordered on an indulgent chuckle.
Keegan did all sorts of girl-things with Hollis. He let her paint his nails, curl his hair, put makeup on him . . . When it came to Marty and Hollis, Keegan was just a pile of gooey mush. Her brother’s family was everything Mara had ever wanted. He was a different man since meeting Marty five years ago.
Marty dutifully lifted her lips for a kiss, her tinkle of laughter sweet and light.
“Now, who’s having a baby, ladies?” Keegan said against her lips, leaving one eye open to scan Mara’s form on the couch with a critical gaze.
Mara’s heart began that fluttering beat again. She was going to have to lie. Keegan would sense something was wrong with her, and then he’d interrogate it out of her. Then he’d know, and he’d have no choice as alpha but to take action.
Panic forced her to repeat the mantra, less is more, Mara. Shut up. Keep it simple.
Marty pulled back, hooking her arms around his waist, giving Keegan a frown, but forcing him and his penetrating gaze to focus on her, taking the heat off Mara. “No one’s having a baby, silly. So quit interrupting conversations you’re not invited to join. Mara and I are dishing. Girl-talk. Which means none of your business.”
Keegan’s hard jaw clenched tight. He narrowed his eyes, skeptical. “I feel like there’s something going on I should know about. Yet I’m afraid to ask for fear it’s nothing, and you’ll cancel our wrestling match date to punish me for accusing you unjustly.”
“You guys go to wrestling matches?” Mara managed to squeak from the couch, forcing her guilty panic to calm.
Marty swatted at Keegan’s shoulder, her eyes full of the kind of affection Mara had grown so fond of witnessing. “No. That’s what we tell Hollis we’re doing. Let me just say this. Four-year-olds are the most inquisitive, nosy beasts on the planet. She’s at the age where all she does is ask a question about everything. Especially when Mommy and Daddy make too much noise while we’re, you know, wrestling.” Marty winked, her long lashes sweeping her cheek.
Mara hopped off the couch, wrinkling her nose in teasing protest. “Okay. No explanations required. In fact, please don’t explain. It’s almost like hearing my parents talk about doing it,” she joked.
Marty laughed, squeezing Keegan’s hand before shooing him toward the door. “Mom’s do it, too,” she taunted. Turning to Keegan, she pointed toward the outer office. “Go. We have girl stuff right now. But tonight? After we put said nosy beast to bed? You. Me. A T-bone for two?”
Keegan planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Ludmilla the Russian Spy, willing to do whatever it takes to get the super secret government formula from Heinrich, the suave, yet debonair millionaire? Even interrogate him, you know, wrestling match–style,” he said over Marty’s shoulder for Mara’s benefit, laughing as he sauntered out the door.
Mara jammed her hands into her oversized lab coat, tugging at her lifeless turtleneck. “Well, that explains why I can’t get a date. I need to change my name to Ludmilla and practice my Russian accent.”
Marty pulled her into a hug, squeezing her close just as her cell phone rang. She dug it out of the back pocket of her skinny jeans and frowned before returning her eyes to Mara. “I’ve got to take this. But this conversation isn’t over. I want to help you, honey. Not just Harry. Okay?”
“You got it. I have to get back to work anyway. See you later, Ludmilla.” She laughed her way to the elevators, warmed that Marty and Keegan were truly so happy. She’d do anything to protect that—even if it meant lying to Keegan about Marty’s involvement in the Harry incident.
On her way out the door, she caught Hollis and Keegan at the elevator. Hollis was the spitting image of Marty. Everything about her screamed “girlie” from her wispy blond hair, caught up in two barrettes with streaming ribbons on either side of her head, to the fashionably red and orange jumper dress she wore with complementing black tights and shiny red clogs. Save her smile. Her smile was all Flaherty. Wide, open, generous. “Aunt Mara!” She wiggled her excitement.
Mara bent down and scooped her up, dropping a kiss on the top of her golden head. “You are the prettiest thing I’ve seen since I went to the frog store to look at frogs.”
Hollis giggled, her chubby cheeks rising upward in an angelic grin. “Frogs aren’t pretty because they don’t have lips. And frogs can’t wear lipstick. See?” She puckered her lips. “I have on sparkly lipstick.”
“Okay, fine. You have lips. That means you win the pretty prize!” Mara giggled at their private joke. She would come up with the ugliest thing she could think of to compare Hollis t
o, and Hollis would respond with something that never failed to make Mara fall more in love with her.
It was their ritual—one Mara cherished. “So, you off to give Daddy some tea and a pretty pink boa? Speaking of, when are you gonna come to Aunt Mara’s and have girls’ night? We’ll watch movies and eat popcorn and stay up really late. Like at least till eight thirty.”
Keegan came up behind her, draping his arm around Mara’s shoulder. “Hollis has been begging to have a girls’ night with you, but we didn’t want to cramp your newfound independence.”
When she’d made the choice to have a child, she’d also decided to move out of the house where Marty and Keegan still lived, along with, until just a few months ago, her brother Sloan. Keegan had offered the estate’s guesthouse after her endless search for a reasonably priced apartment had turned up some questionable properties. While she knew it was due to Keegan’s overprotective, bossy nature and the fact that Marty wanted to keep her close, she’d agreed only after Keegan and Marty agreed to accept monthly rent.
Despite what she was sure other employees thought, she was paid what any other lab tech was paid to work at Pack. Keegan had insisted on it, and it had been that way since she’d gotten her degree and come home from college ten years ago. As a Flaherty, you didn’t piss away your portion of the proceeds from a Fortune 500 company. You worked to make it more successful.
Hollis wrapped her chubby arms around Mara’s neck and squeezed, making Mara sigh contentedly with the scent of cupcakes and little girl. “So can I come over, Aunt Mara?”
Damn. What had she been thinking? No, you can’t come over, Hollis. Aunt Mara’s hiding an angry man she’s wildly attracted to and a half zombie named Carl under her bed. Instantly, she fought her body’s reaction to the lie she was going to tell. Forcing herself to relax, she smiled—an easy thing to do with Hollis. “Soon, pumpkin. I’ve got a lot going on these days while I’m fixing up the cottage. Bunches and bunches of stinky chemicals and paints, and I’ve been putting in a lot of overtime here at work. But I promise to call you soon, and we’ll have a girls’ night. Okay?” She gave her niece a pinch on the cheek, rubbing noses with her before handing her off to Keegan.
The Accidental Werewolf 2: Something About Harry (Accidentally Paranormal Novel) Page 11