Shifters in Seattle: Box Set Books 1 - 5

by Thorne, Truli

  “It’s ridiculous.”

  “Then I thought about all his other odd behavior.”

  “What odd behavior?”

  “Last month I set up a hidden camera in his office.”

  “He’ll fire you for that. And I will help him.”

  “But it wasn’t until last night that I downloaded the video footage.”

  “Gregory is Gregory.”

  “Gregory Knowlton is a wolf shifter. And this time, I have proof.”

  “A wolf shifter? You’re crazy.” Peter shrugged off Shaun, and moved toward the door again.

  Shaun pushed a folder at Peter. “Look at these.”

  Peter opened the folder. The first photo showed Gregory in his office, obviously a man. The second photo showed Gregory shifting, his body sprouting hair as he lifted his arms to the ceiling. The third photo showed him as a wolf, huge and fierce.

  Damn.

  Now what?

  “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but this stops now.”

  “The game I’m playing?” Shaun said. “It’s called the truth.”

  5

  When Cleo woke up alone and naked in the mayor’s mansion, she was mortified. She dove under the sheets, pulling them over her head.

  Had they...?

  She couldn’t remember. Cleo clenched her thighs. She grabbed her breasts. Nah. Nothing felt unusual. She hadn’t had sex. Not last night.

  Cleo stretched her body into a twist across the king-sized bed, and yawned.

  All things considered, she felt pretty damn good. Just a little hung-over.

  She reached an arm out of the sheets to grab her phone from the nightstand. She checked the time. Just after 7:00 a.m.

  She’d had a nice long sleep in the most comfortable bed she’d ever slept in. The sheets felt like silken cotton and smelled like lavender. There were more pillows than she could count. She was tempted to just stay under the covers as long as possible, but she couldn’t. She had a baby to make.

  Cleo was determined to get pregnant. And after Peter’s gentlemanly behavior last night she felt even more certain that he would make the perfect sperm donor.

  No. What she needed was to head to the spa and get a mani-pedi. She texted Amy and Steph in their group chat: “911. Butterfly. I’m making appointments.”

  Their favorite spa was the Butterfly and they’d been going there together since they’d met. It was cheap and close to their apartment. Cleo called and got appointments for 8:30.

  She texted them again: “8:30. Don’t be late.”

  Once that was set, she found the strength to peek over the sheets. She was in the Ballard Guest Suite at the mayor’s mansion. She recognized it well as she’d dropped off numerous visiting dignitaries here over the past few months. The President and First Lady had even slept here when they visited Seattle in November.

  It was her favorite of the suites in the mansion.

  The Ballard was decorated with pale green walls and a giant painting of the Puget Sound over the fireplace mantle. The ceiling was pale blue. It was lovely to lie in bed and look up at it.

  She sighed.

  The carpet was lush under her feet as she padded to the bathroom.

  She contemplated the mirror. Her hair was kind of a mess, but she looked okay. She must have woken up in the middle of the night and washed her face, but she didn’t remember that. She wondered if Peter had taken off her clothes, or if she had done it herself.

  She couldn’t believe she’d passed out. Was she really ready to be a mother?

  She had to get ready, that’s all.

  Cleo needed to step up her game if she was going to be a mother. No more alcohol. That’s for sure.

  She took a quick shower.

  She needed something to wear besides last night’s dress and heels. No walk of shame for this girl.

  She opened the guest room closet and found brand-new sets of sweats printed with Seattle Is for Lovers. Sweet. She found a pair that fit and threw them on.

  Her heels with the sweats actually looked kind of classy and bohemian, especially when she also put on a black Seattle logo baseball cap, tucking her hair into a low bun.

  She checked her phone. She still had ten minutes before she needed to leave to meet Amy and Steph.

  Peter was probably at his squash game with Gregory Knowlton, same as every Saturday morning. The two men always had lunch together afterward. She had a few hours before he would get back.

  She tiptoed down the hall to Peter’s private suite. She knew he had another residence on Whidbey Island, where he often spent Sundays and vacations. When he was in the city, he stayed at the mayor’s mansion, which had been used by Seattle’s mayors for more than a hundred years.

  The mayor’s bedroom was smaller than the Ballard suite, but Peter had decorated it personally and Cleo had never been in it. Not that she wasn’t allowed, but there had never been an official reason for her to enter his inner sanctuary.

  Now she felt that she had to look at his private space to be even more certain that he was good baby daddy material. After all, her future baby deserved the best.

  She opened the door to his bedroom suite.

  The door led into a beautifully appointed sitting room with a pile of books stacked next to big, comfy chairs. He was a reader. She liked that.

  She walked further into the suite until she found the bed. It was huge, king-sized at least. A flat-screen television on the wall told her that he liked to watch TV in bed. She wondered what he liked to watch.

  There was nothing better than spending a night in bed watching Netflix and eating takeout. Although if she were in bed with Peter, she imagined they’d find a lot more to do than watch movies and eat.

  Had they even kissed last night? She hoped she got the chance to kiss him soon.

  Just for the baby making, of course. It wouldn’t do to develop feelings for the man. She opened the drawer of the nightstand.

  Cleo gasped. Inside the drawer was a box of extra-large condoms.

  A thrill flashed up her spine. She high-tailed it out of Peter’s room and ran down the stairs as fast as her stilettos would carry her.

  She still felt excited when she pulled her car up at the spa ten minutes later.

  Amy and Steph were already there, getting settled into their mani-pedi chairs. Cleo went straight for the coffee. One of the reasons they all loved the Butterfly was the amazing free coffee. The other reason was that they could always get a last-minute appointment, even on a Saturday.

  Cleo popped an Advil. A headache was setting over her skull like a too-tight cap. Never again. She was done drinking. She swore. She would be good from now on.

  She sat in the empty mani-pedi chair next to Steph and Amy and slid her feet into the bubbling Jacuzzi bath her manicurist had prepared. Oh, God. Yes. Cleo closed her eyes and tipped her head back.

  “You said to be on time.” Amy nudged her until Cleo half-opened her eyes.

  “Where have you been?” Steph wanted to know. “What’s the emergency?”

  “Dolls. I have an announcement. I had dinner with my boss last night. I’m going to have a baby.” She felt almost breathless with her big news.

  “Last night?” Steph lifted both eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

  “You had sex? I thought you hated him,” Amy said.

  “Geez, Louise. No.”

  “You slept with your boss. Is that what you’re telling us?” Steph tried again.

  “No. Not that, either.” She shook her head and blew out a breath.

  “I’m confused.” Amy looked at Steph.

  “What happened?” Steph asked.

  “I’ve decided to use Peter as a sperm donor. He’s an almost perfect man. Tall, good-looking, kind, funny. Plus, I found out he reads books and watches romantic comedies in bed.” She slid her fingers into a soaking bowl, swishing them around in the warm blue water.

  “How’d you talk him into it?” Amy asked.

  “Who?”

 
“Peter, of course. Your sperm donor. What does he think about becoming a father?”

  “You think I’m freaking crazy? I didn’t tell him.”

  “You’re not telling him?” Steph asked.

  “It’s better this way.”

  “Better for who?”

  “For your baby?”

  “Listen, I did the menstrual cycle math. My window of opportunity for getting pregnant ends on Monday. That means I’m getting knocked up tomorrow night. I have thirty-six hours. If I talk to Peter about it, have the full-on discussion, that could take freaking months. Or even years. I don’t have years.”

  “You really think it’s a good idea to not tell him?” Steph asked in a voice that implied that she thought it was a terrible idea.

  “He’ll figure it out eventually and be angry that you tricked him,” Amy added.

  “I didn’t fucking ask to be sterile!” Cleo said, leaning forward and glaring at them. “It’s not my fault I have this stupid 89-FB12! I have one goddamned weekend to make a lifetime of babies. That’s all I fucking get. And Peter’s been asking me out for months. So guess what? I said yes. Because he has a fucking nice ass and I want a baby.”

  “Sorry,” she said to her manicurist, who got splashed a little when Cleo’s fingers upset the bowl. The three manicurists who were working on the three friends all gave each other a look.

  “She swears when she gets excited,” Amy told them with a shrug.

  Steph leaned over and touched Cleo’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. You need sperm. He wants to give you some.”

  Cleo nodded. “But you’re right. I should tell him about the baby thing. I’ll tell him today.”

  “So what happened last night?” Amy asked.

  “Unfortunately, I drank too much and passed out.” Cleo pouted.

  “Did you at least have some fun first?” Amy winked at her.

  “I don’t really remember.” She pouted even more.

  “If you’re going to be a mother in nine months,” Amy said, “you’d damn sure better have your fun now.”

  “Being a mother can be fun,” Steph insisted. They both silenced and turned to Steph. She was gazing lovingly at her left hand, ring finger.

  “Doll? What are you doing?” Cleo asked.

  “Is there something you need to tell us?” Amy asked.

  “Of course not.” Steph looked up and shrugged. “Not yet. Rex and I have just been talking about starting a family and, quite honestly, I can’t wait. We’re talking about getting married this summer and being pregnant by Christmas.” She beamed.

  For a moment, Cleo wondered about her decision to use a sperm donor to have a baby. Maybe she was selling herself short. If she waited, maybe she could fall in love with someone—preferably a shifter—and have both a family and true love.

  Steph and Amy had done it.

  Why not her?

  Then she remembered. She didn’t have the fallopian tubes required to wait for true love.

  “Cleo?” Amy said. “Are you okay?”

  Cleo hadn’t realized she was crying, but she felt tears tumbling down her face.

  “I’m just so happy for you guys. You both found true love.” She sniffed and swiped the back of her hand under her nose. Her manicurist handed her a tissue.

  “Your time will come too, Cleo. I know it,” Amy said.

  “It’s okay to have a baby now and find true love afterwards,” Steph said.

  “If anyone can do it, you can.”

  Cleo nodded. She could do it. She wiped her eyes.

  “Will you help me get ready for tonight?” Cleo asked Amy and Steph.

  “Of course!

  When their nails were done, the three best friends went back to their apartment.

  Even though Amy had moved out last month, it still felt like their place, not just Cleo and Steph’s apartment. Geez, Louise. Cleo realized that Steph would be moving out too if she was marrying Rex in the summer.

  Cleo would be alone.

  “Will you help me with my makeup?” she asked Steph and Amy, as the tears started again. “Better make it waterproof!”

  “Of course!” They threw their arms around her for a group hug.

  It was time to get ready to spring her plan on Peter.

  What on earth would he say?

  6

  Peter showed up for his squash game with Gregory at the usual time.

  As always, they both wore shorts and T-shirts, with protective goggles. Nothing about the match was typical, though, as Gregory seemed to know right away that something was wrong. “What it is?”

  Peter shook his head and spun the racket to see who would serve first. “Later,” he said. “After we play.”

  They played two games, because they always played two games, but their hearts weren’t in it. No one’s nose got bloodied. No one got bruised. They played it for the exercise and the ritual. They played because they always played.

  Afterward, the two shifters showered and wrapped themselves in towels for a quick sauna. Before sitting down on the bench, Peter examined the sauna for hidden cameras or microphones. He didn’t trust anything. Not any more.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gregory asked.

  Peter shook his head and wouldn’t speak.

  Then they showered again and dressed.

  Still, Peter wouldn’t say anything. They walked out to the parking lot. The rain started, a slight drizzle, but cold and sharp.

  “Mind if we walk to lunch today?” Peter asked.

  “It’s five fucking blocks. I just exercised.” Gregory looked at the sky.

  Peter stared at him. He wasn’t messing around.

  “Fine,” Gregory said. “If it’s so fucking important, Mayor.”

  While they walked, Peter spoke quietly. “Keep your face neutral,” he said.

  “This is neutral,” Gregory said, scowling.

  Peter lifted his eyebrows.

  “My sister calls this my resting bitch face.”

  Peter smiled. “Just try to look amused, okay? You won’t be amused, believe me. But just imagine that a person who wants to hurt you is watching your every move, your emotions, and your words. Because he is. And that person is Shaun Randall.”

  While they walked to Carmichael’s, Peter quietly told Gregory everything that had happened at the morgue. Gregory nodded, asking a question here and there.

  Finally, Peter handed him a pre-paid mobile phone. “Use this to communicate with me. Nothing else. Tell no one what I’ve told you. I’m going to take care of the situation. And I’m going to do it this weekend.”

  As they finally arrived at the restaurant, Gregory turned to Peter. He had one thing to say, “I’ll destroy him.”

  “Later,” Peter replied. “First we have to save your canine ass.”

  “How the fuck do you propose to do that, Mayor?”

  “Find out what he knows. Discredit him. Then destroy him.”

  “I’m skipping lunch. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “You need to keep to your normal routine, Gregory. Know that you could be under surveillance at any moment. Watch yourself. Come on. A meal will do you good.”

  Gregory nodded.

  Inside Carmichael’s, at the mayor’s table, the shifters ate well and they ate fast. They devoured salmon steaks with grilled vegetables and French bread, hot from the oven.

  Peter wanted to keep talking about Shaun, but knew he couldn’t. They weren’t sure how deeply Shaun was watching Gregory. Maybe Peter was even under surveillance too.

  When they had finished their meals, Peter ordered strong coffee and fresh apple pie.

  “Tell me about Cleo,” Gregory insisted after a brief silence. “Are you finally pursuing your mate?”

  “Cleo? She’s as interesting as I expected her to be.” He pictured her lush body sleeping in the raw in his guest suite. He felt a sharp pang to be with her. “Maybe even more so.”

  “This is good. I told you not to wait until your term is
up. After mayor you’ll just move on to the next level. Governor. Senator. President. Nothing will stop your career, and the sooner you get your mate and family in place, the better.”

  “One thing could stop it. Stop it hard and stop it cold.”

  They both knew what he meant. If the humans knew he was hiding being a shifter, he would be driven out of office. He’d never be elected again.

  The waiter brought their bill.

  “I got this,” Gregory said, picking it up. “Get out of here.”

  “I’ll text you.”

  It had been a quick meal, but invigorating.

  After lunch, Peter walked quickly back to his car and drove to the police station to see Julianna. He wanted to find out what she believed.

  The police precinct was a broad glass and timber building, with a slanted roof. He found Julianna sitting behind a desk, looking miserable as she watched two male cops haul a suspect into an interrogation room.

  Julianna didn’t look surprised to see Peter. “I figured you’d be showing up sometime. You’re quicker than I expected, though.”

  “Gregory is a close friend. I’m a man of action.”

  “That’s why you’re the mayor, I guess.”

  “I thought you were off desk duty, Sergeant Lee,” Peter said.

  “Chicks get desk duty anyway. Just for being chicks. One of many the joys of being in this department.”

  “You don’t look very happy about it.”

  “Would you be?”

  Of course not. It sucked that women still had to put up with so much bullshit. Even police officers. “How do you manage?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “It gives me time to sit here feeling so happy that I turned down that scholarship for grad school.”

  “Be right back.”

  He knocked on the door of the Captain, who had been on the force for decades. He was ruddy faced and portly, with the reputation of being grumpy but fair. Maybe he wasn’t up to running a modern force if he treated female officers different from male. Peter had to wonder.

  “Captain, I need an officer for the afternoon. I’ll take Sergeant Lee,” Peter said. Getting what he wanted was one of the perks of being mayor.

  The Captain stormed out of his office looking supremely irritated.