There's Something About Werewolves: Seven Brides for Seven Shifters, Book 1

by Thalia Eames

  “Put that back where you got it. He doesn’t need to see.”

  “Why not?” Garrett asked, growing suspicious. He had no idea what they kept inside the old tin but he wanted to know.

  “Good question,” Paolo said, winking at Lennox. Garrett walked over to the fry cook and gestured for the tin. Paolo regarded his outstretched hand. Amusement twinkled in his gaze. He ducked under Garrett’s reach and tossed the tin to Lennox. She caught it and tucked the container under one arm, in true football player style.

  At six foot five it only took Garrett a couple of strides to cut off Lennox’s escape. He grabbed her around the waist and swung her back into the fray. She threw long. Paolo caught the container on the other side of the stainless steel prep table. When her fry cook clutched the makeshift football Lennox’s smile of victory froze Garrett to the floor. And then she laughed and he knew he couldn’t stop playing. He stalked Paolo, pulling Lennox by the wrist behind him. She twisted free. Paolo seized the opening. He jumped and sent the tin sailing in an arch over Garrett’s head. Garrett tried to snatch the tin but it floated just above his reach. Lennox leaped and came down with the tin in a flurry of giggles.

  “Same as in school,” she said, “you can’t beat me unless you cheat.” She made a neener neener nah nah face. Garrett fell out laughing. He couldn’t help it. She’d always been adorable.

  A quick flick of her hands sent their “ball” sailing to Paolo who started playing soccer with it, bouncing it on his knees and feet. Garrett crossed his arms and watched for a moment. Paolo had skills.

  “Throw it back!” Lennox shouted. “He’s full of tricks.”

  Too late. Garrett reached out and pinched Paolo’s nose closed. The fry cook gasped. The tin hit the floor. The top bounced off and index cards spilled everywhere.

  His interest piqued; Garrett went down on one knee. The first index card he picked up read, Walk of Shame Omelet. The recipe consisted of skirt steak, home fries, green tomatillo sauce, and avocado. Stunned, he looked to Lennox. She sucked in one side of her lower lip. He knew both her embarrassed expression and the ingredients well. No surprises there. But the handwriting shocked the hell out of him. Mostly because he’d written this and every other index card in the tin. She changed most of the names for the Peach Pit menu, but Lennox had used his personal dishes to build her restaurant and she’d kept all the recipes he’d ever written down for her. His chest tightened. She still cared for him, had always been and would always be his Lennox.

  “Ooh,” he said, jumping up and down and pointing the way Nox did when he lorded something over his friends. “I’m suing.”

  It felt good to be a kid again. To remember when he and Lennox had run free.

  Lennox crossed over to him, holding his gaze she muttered, “Pick all that up, Paolo.” When the fry cook skulked past she playfully swatted him on the back of the head. “You just had to get cute with it, didn’t you?”

  Scowling at Garrett she pursed her lips. “You’re not suing anybody, Garrett Anderson.”

  Taking a step closer, he leaned down so they were eye level. “My name is Anderson G. Westlake and I’m one of those billionaire assholes you hear about. I’m definitely suing.”

  She took a step back and crossed her arms. “Really?”

  “Hells yeah. You stole my recipes.”

  Inclining her head she stood on tiptoes until their noses nearly touched. “Yeah? Well, you stole my Space Vikings.”

  Garrett jerked upright and swallowed. Scratching his sideburns, he studied the ceiling. Actually he had stolen her Space Vikings. They’d made him a lot of money too. “You see, what had happened was—”

  Her yelp of laughter cut him off. “Are you serious right now?”

  Garrett squatted slightly to plead with her. “Let’s call it even.”

  “No way, cheater.”

  “I’m not a cheater.” He got in her face.

  She got deeper into his. “You’re such a cheater. Cheater, cheater, cheater.”

  Paolo cleared his throat. “I can call Pastor Sweetlow if you want to get married today.” He waved one arm high. “I’ll cook for the reception.”

  They’d forgotten themselves during the spontaneous game of keep away, and reverted to that strange crossbreed of kid and adult that took most people through college. It had been good back then. Carefree best friends who always sensed when the other person needed them, teased each other mercilessly, and faked getting mad to tease each other more. Tina changed that. Lennox and Garrett, as a duo, stopped their forward momentum. Love had overturned their friendship.

  The word “married” brought an avalanche of pain down on them. Lennox’s jaw tightened. The start of his marriage had broken her heart. Garrett looked away. The end of his marriage had broken his. His wedding ripped a huge chasm between them, and they no longer had their friendship to bridge the gap.

  Lennox made a rude noise in her throat and stalked out of the kitchen. She called back through the swinging door, “You guys can close tonight. Me, Nox, and Gran are going to the movies.”

  “When did you decide that?” Garrett said.

  “Just now,” she yelled from farther down the hall. “Deal with it.”

  Paolo patted Garrett on the shoulder. “What did I say, my friend? I didn’t know.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Garrett said. “I don’t think either one of us can fix it.”

  Garrett’s anxious knock nearly shook the old oak door down. It gotten late while he and Paolo closed up the Peach Pit. Gran answered in grand style, beckoning him in with a sweeping gesture. Her mood seemed as jaunty at midnight as it would’ve been at noon. Garrett stepped over the threshold and Gran whacked him upside the head. She had to leap to get it done but she managed.

  He rubbed the spot but it didn’t hurt. Where other women kissed, Gran playfully swatted to show affection. “I forgot hitting runs in this family,” he said. “Use your words, Grandma.”

  “If you don’t know why I bopped you one, maybe I should bop you again.”

  Garrett threw his hands up in front of him in surrender. “No need.”

  Gran grinned. She looped her arm in his and led him toward the family room.

  Averdeen Manor still felt like a second home. He’d spent so much time here during his college days. Garrett always thought of the old South when he visited. Not that the interior or furnishings were dated. No, they were lush with texture, pattern, and color. Updated antiques in lacquered white, toile upholstery in unexpectedly bright colors. He peeked into the kitchen as they passed. Lennox had remodeled in full ’50s chic, lots of chrome and rounded contours. A man could rest in a house like Averdeen Manor and not feel he’d been sucked into a time warp.

  “How was the movie?” he asked Gran.

  She shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I fell asleep.”

  Nox’s voice greeted him as Garrett and Gran took the two short steps up into the family room. His son didn’t know he’d arrived but any time Nox laughed it welcomed Garrett home.

  The oversized twelve-year-old grinned at Lennox, pointed to something in the book they were reading, and lay back in her lap. Garrett paused mid-step. He used to do that, lie in Lennox’s lap and tell her about his day. In those days she’d usually shushed him so she could study. Retaining info didn’t come easily to her. She wasn’t slow, far from it. She just had to read the words a few times for them to sink in. Of course, if he didn’t tell her about his day she scolded him for that too. You couldn’t win with Lennox—unless you were named after her like the kid in her lap.

  In contrast to her former feigned impatience with Garrett, with Nox she paid attention to every word, laughed with him, asked him questions, combed her fingers through his hair. The woman held a mean grudge but she didn’t misplace blame. No matter how angry he’d made her she treated his son like her own.

  Nox did a funny voice. Lennox
answered with another. They were reading the graphic novel in Nox’s hands by taking turns with the dialogue. Nox took all the female parts and Lennox did the male ones. They were weird those two and Garrett could watch them all night.

  Lennox noticed him. She straightened and patted Nox on the shoulder. He sat up to wave at his father.

  “I’m out of here,” Gran said. “Good night, all.”

  They said their good nights as the elder Averdeen sashayed up the stairs. After a long silence, Garrett said, “Time to go, Nox. I’m sure Lennox is ready for bed too.”

  She nodded when Nox glanced at her for confirmation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  Taking his turn to nod, Nox kneeled on the sofa to put the book on the shelves behind them. It slipped from his fingers and fell between the sofa and the shelves. “I’ll get it.” He tried to reach from overtop but his arms weren’t long enough. Nox hopped off the seat and bent to go under the couch.

  An assessing gaze fell on Garrett.

  “Something on your mind, Lennox?” he asked.

  “Lots,” she said, sighing. “Where are you staying?”

  “I have a house on the outskirts of town.”

  She didn’t hide her shock fast enough. Hell, he hadn’t figured out why he’d bought the house either, and he’d had years to get used to the idea.

  “Got it,” Nox shouted. He pulled the dust-bunny-covered book out from under the couch. Lennox stood, took one look at the dust from under her sofa, and started whistling.

  Yeah, Garrett thought, smiling to himself. You ought to be embarrassed. Those dust bunnies could swallow a small child. Luckily his kid was twice the size of most.

  As Nox wiped off the book he made a funny face, his nose twitched. Achoo! He sneezed. Fur sprouted and he went wolfen. The book skidded across the hard wood. Lennox’s mouth fell open. She blinked rapidly. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted. Garrett dove for her but surprise slowed him down. Lennox dropped, her head lolled to one side. Her temple struck the carved wooden arm of the chair with a sickening thud.

  A gash opened at her temple. Nox howled. Throwing himself beneath Lennox, he and Garrett both cushioned the fall as she rolled over onto the floor. Garrett whispered comforting words to his son but he knew fear had carved worried lines onto his face, which scared Nox more.

  Garrett swept Lennox into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Blood slid down her cheek and rolled under her chin. He didn’t recognize his own hoarse voice yelling for Gran. He was too busy begging Lennox, the universe, anyone, not to let it happen again. Not Lennox too. Please don’t take her too.

  Chapter Five

  Lennox woke up beside a warm body. The dog! She sat up swinging. Nox jumped out of her way fast enough to momentarily blur her vision.

  No dog, just her godson…and pain. Excruciating, bone-shuddering pain in her head and neck.

  “You okay?” Nox asked. His anxious expression worried her more than her injuries.

  Lying down, she groaned at the hurt in every movement. “I’m alive,” she said.

  “That’s what Dr. Dillon said.” Nox looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “For what? I should be sorry. I didn’t hit you, did I?” He shook his head but wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  Garrett slammed into the room with Gran chasing his heels. Her grandmother swung her red umbrella at every corner until she’d satisfied herself they weren’t in any danger. “No wolv—er, dogs?” Gran asked, her darting eyes on alert.

  Everything went out of focus. Lennox blinked against a second bout of blurry vision that had nothing to do with Nox.

  Garrett sat on her bed, on the opposite side from his son but stayed silent.

  “What happened?” Lennox asked her grandmother, ignoring the all too real man at her side. “I remember Nox dropping the book…” She brushed tentative fingers over her eyes before probing the bandage at her temple. “Oh, and I had the worse nightmare about Monster Mutt.”

  “What are you asking me for?” Gran said. “I went to bed and left Señor FUBAR in charge. Ask him about Monster Mutt.”

  “Gran…” Lennox paused to let a wave of dizziness pass by. “I’m asking about the giant lump on my head and the tweeting birds flying around it.”

  “Same difference.” Gran leaned in, whispering loud enough for the entire town to hear. “If you ask me, Garrett’s trying to kill you. He’s been working on finishing you off for years now.”

  Garrett gritted his teeth. “Not funny, Grandma.”

  Gran walked around the bed. Garrett winced, expecting to get whacked, which you could never count out with Gran. She pinched her fingers together, pushing his chin up to look him in the eye. “No, Garrett, it isn’t,” she said in earnest.

  Something Lennox couldn’t name passed between them. It lasted half a second, then Gran walloped him with the red umbrella. The former love of her life covered his head a second too late. Lennox wanted to snicker but it hurt too badly. Garrett hissed and waited until Gran settled herself in the armchair by the window before he released the crossed arms protecting his head.

  It took Nox a full five minutes to stop laughing. Although Lennox loved her godson’s laugher, the sound ripped jagged cracks into her skull. She finally pressed a finger to his lips. “You’re killing me, baby boy.”

  She thought her words might hurt but Nox grinned at her instead. “Well, um, Dr. Dillon said to wake you up every hour. I say we have an all-nighter instead.”

  “Dillon came by to check on me?” Lennox tried to sit up. Garrett gently pushed her down.

  “You don’t remember? He stitched you up and you threatened him. Said if he left a scar you’d pour nail polish on his car.”

  Okay, that made sense. Dillon lived past her orchard on the farm next door. And if his reputation meant anything, he had been a wonderful plastic surgeon before he gave it up. Lennox liked Dillon, a dead ringer for Prince Harry, a lot. She felt bad for being surly with him. Hopefully he’d forgive her because of her injury.

  At the edge of her vision Garrett reached for her temple. She batted his hand away. He drew back.

  “She’s got a lot of anger, Dad,” Nox said. He made himself comfortable beside Lennox and started reading another graphic novel. “If you’re not me or Gran, you probably should leave her alone.”

  Lennox had to suppress a snicker, again. Gran didn’t have the same problem. She cackled and put her feet up on the ottoman.

  Amused, Garrett rubbed his chin. “What makes you think you’re on her good side?” Nox made a face that might as well have accused his dad of being the village idiot. He shrugged and continued to read his book.

  “Well, Dr. Reardon did say we need to watch you. An all-nighter isn’t a bad idea.”

  She glanced at the face she used to love, the dark slash of eyebrows, waves of hair framing his temples, the almost too straight nose, and the mouth meant to kiss away all a girl’s hurts—up top and down below. Holy shit. With his black dress shirt unbuttoned and cuffed at the forearms, he looked like that werewolf guy on TV, the big one with the sexy walk. And that guy could charm Mother Teresa into giving him head. She’d bet Garrett could do the same, and make a woman forget to ask forgiveness. Okay, she felt bad about imagining Mother Teresa in compromising positions, but better an icon of virtue than Lennox. Mother Teresa had already gone to heaven.

  Lennox panicked. The things she wanted to do with Garrett were only sanctioned in hell—in the really, really filthy, depraved, freaky parts of the underworld. Not even her massive headache could counter the deep pulse of desire low in her belly. She had to find away to eradicate her Dr. Feelgood yearnings from earlier. Sex with Garrett? Not going to happen. She needed to get his ass out of her bedroom. Stat.

  “Gran will look after me,” she said quietly.

  On cue Gran started snoring. She we
nt so far as to slump over in her chair and drool a little. That bony old broad was such traitor.

  “I don’t need you to stay, Garrett. You’re a movie mogul. Don’t you have stuff…” she waved her hands in the air, “…you know, to do?”

  He stood. She breathed in relief until he resituated himself at the head of her bed. Stealing one of her unused pillows to make the headboard more comfy, he leaned back into it. “I don’t have anything on my 3 a.m. schedule tonight. We’re good.”

  Lennox sputtered.

  Wait, she still owned this house. She didn’t have to put up with unwanted guests. “Go, Garrett. You need to get Nox to bed.” Lennox knew she’d made a mistake the moment she uttered the last sentence. Mostly because Nox went into chainsaw mode, he started snoring loud enough to wake Gran. If the old fart weren’t faking sleep too.

  “Fine.” Lennox gritted her teeth and winced. Damn, everything hurt. “I’m going to bed,” she muttered, closing her eyes.

  4:00 a.m. winked at Lennox from the clock on her bedside. Her neck had stiffened during sleep. She could barely move. Garrett shifted beside her and she feigned sleep. He chuckled. A strong arm slipped under her pillow and gently lifted it, her head, and all. He placed two triangular tablets in her palm. “Flexeril,” he said. “Dr. Reardon thought you might’ve hurt your neck so he prescribed a muscle relaxant. He already shot you up with Motrin for the pain, but we’ve got that in pill form too.”

  Lennox didn’t argue. She threw the pills at her face and caught them in her mouth. Garrett held a glass to her lips. A quick sip and the Flexeril went down.

  “How did you get the prescription filled so fast?”

  Another chuckle. Lennox groaned. She really wanted to put her face in his lap. Or sit on his face. Either option worked for her.

  She sighed, such an unladylike response. Sex toys would be ordered as soon as she got to her tablet. Lots of sex toys, with lights and vibration and shame.