Idler (Norseton Wolves Book 3)

by Trent, Holley

  IDLER

  by

  HOLLEY

  TRENT

  Dear Readers:

  Norseton Wolves is a self-contained miniseries spun off from The Afótama Legacy. You don’t need to read The Viking Queen’s Men or The Chieftain’s Daughter to understand where the Wolves are or why they’re there, nor do you have to read the four novellas in order. Each Norseton Wolves story is set at approximately the same time. The stories are interwoven and characters may appear throughout the miniseries, but the timelines more or less overlap. The stories may end at different times, depending on how long it takes a couple to find their happily-ever-after, but the ending of one book does not affect another book.

  In terms of continuity, Norseton Wolves is set mostly after The Chieftain’s Daughter and before Viking’s Flame.

  I hope you enjoy reading this shapeshifter arc set in the Afótama world as much as I loved writing it.

  Lisa Modesto needs an ambitious, proactive mate to help her navigate Pack drama.

  With her younger sisters being on the fast track to matrimony with a couple of indolent werewolves from her old Pack, she has to get them out, and soon. She accepts a random pairing with a male from an unknown pack, hoping to find a potential safe haven for her sisters, only to get matched with an idle wolf who has a full moon-sized chip on his shoulder.

  Wolf-for-hire Colt Baylor is used to doing the bare minimum to get by. He’s convinced the stability the Norseton Wolfpack has experienced in the past half year is short-lived, and he doesn’t want to put his heart into impermanent things. He learned that lesson all too well as a teen, but his reluctant new mate would have him revisit it.

  Lisa is convinced that her born-alpha mate has the potential to solve big problems, but not without incentive. He’s a wolf with a troubled past, and if she pushes too hard, she’ll lose his trust. She can’t afford that. Colt may not only be the ticket to a better life for her sisters, but possibly the closest thing to a perfect mate a domineering Type A personality like her will ever find.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I could end up with a sorrier wolf than the one I got paired with last time.

  Lisa Modesto shuddered at the idea, and groaned quietly. She couldn’t believe the thought hadn’t surfaced before, but she’d been too busy to pee, much less think.

  The lady sitting next to her on the crowded bench bumped Lisa’s knee with her own.

  “Sorry,” Lisa whispered. “Just reminiscing.”

  Their new pack’s alpha, Adam Carbone, paused his inspection of the four women on the courtyard bench and accepted a cordless phone from his wife. He furrowed his brow as he accepted it. “Is it important?”

  Mrs. Carbone sighed and flicked a dismissive hand in his direction. “What do you think? You think I can’t tell what’s important after almost forty years of marriage? Give me some credit, you doofus,” she called over her shoulder before walking away.

  Alpha blew a raspberry, pressed the phone to his ear, and put a little distance between him and the women on the bench. “Carbone,” he said into the receiver.

  Lisa couldn’t help but to smile. It was so rare to see werewolf couples in relationships that looked anything close to normal. Her parents tried to set a good example, but they were far from an alpha couple. They were amongst the most submissive in her old pack, so they could get away with being kind to each other. No one paid them any attention until it was time for them to pony up their dues.

  “Been here before?” the woman to Lisa’s right whispered.

  “Well, this ain’t my first rodeo. Let’s put it that way.”

  “You’ve taken a mate before?”

  Lisa cringed. “Uh, no, I just came very close to taking one.”

  And that was why she’d decided that she had to be out of her freakin’ mind. Like, for real, straight up riding the crazy train. If she weren’t, she wouldn’t be sharing a bench with a group of hopeful single women, and participating in the second mate call of her life. After all, the first one she’d responded to four years ago had gone so wonderfully that she’d grabbed her luggage and went home before her would-be mate had given her his bite. No one did that. It was the werewolf equivalent of a bride deciding to call off a wedding, right after she’d marched up the aisle. Lisa had taken one tiny whiff of the asshole she’d been paired with, caught the stench of weed on his breath and clothes, and hit the road. Wolf women were used to getting the short end of the stick—they held no power in their packs—but Lisa knew if she stayed, there would have been bloodshed, and she hadn’t wanted to shame her family that way. They already got enough bullshit from their alpha as it was.

  After that disappointing ordeal, she didn’t expect to have another chance to answer a mate call—or even thought she wanted to answer one. Back then, she hadn’t been desperate. Now she was. She had little sisters to think of, and if it weren’t for them, she’d have stayed at home and toed the line. She’d made herself so undesirable in her pack that the men mostly left her alone, but her sisters… Well, they were sweet. They didn’t have Lisa’s bite, so they’d end up being the brides of some sorry excuses for wolves as soon as they turned eighteen, and their parents wouldn’t be able to fight it.

  Lisa could, though. Not with teeth and claws, but with cunning. She couldn’t spirit them away, but if she played her cards right, she could transfer them out of the pack. Answering the mate call was Lisa’s last chance to put the ball in motion before it was too late.

  The woman gave Lisa another nudge of the knee. Lisa didn’t even know her name, but she wouldn’t beat herself up about it. She hadn’t learned any of the women’s names last time, either.

  She forced a swallow down her parched throat and guessed that the lack of humidity in New Mexico was already wreaking havoc on her body. “It wasn’t here,” she said.

  Alpha, about five yards up the path, held the phone clamped between his shoulder and ear and patted his pockets. He pulled out a switchblade and slung it open.

  The four women on the bench gasped in unison.

  Alpha looked at them, pushed up one bushy eyebrow as if they’d all lost their marbles, and quickly cut the tag out of his T-shirt’s neck before resuming his conversation.

  The women relaxed.

  Jeez.

  Wolf men with weapons didn’t generally evoke thoughts of comfort for Lisa. Judging by the women’s synchronized reaction, that was apparently a trend across many packs.

  “Where was it?” the woman whispered when Alpha turned his back.

  He took a few paces toward the desert and the sun sinking into the horizon.

  Lisa gave her chin a contemplative rub. He was an odd man, her new alpha. Most didn’t like to be interrupted, but from the time he’d collected the four women from the airport, he’d been as calm and cool as a priest.

  “It was a pack up in Maine,” she said softly. “Some real dipshits up there, let me tell you.”

  “Ugh, I know about them. Interacted with them a lot during pack conferences. I’m from New Jersey.”

  “Ah. A neighbor, then.” Lisa held out her hand. “I’m from Delaware. Nice to meet you, I’m Lisa.”

  “Ashley.”

  “Long way from home, huh?” Lisa jammed her hands into her sweatshirt pockets and stared at the mountain range across the expanse of desert.

  “Yep.”

  The desert, of all freakin’ places. There was rarely enough information to guess where a pack issuing a mate call was located, but her imagination had gone to woodsy, green places, or semi-rural exurbs like where she’d grown up—not stark, arid terrain, rife with cacti and armadillos.

  “I have a friend in a pack up in Colorado, though,” Ashley said. “Maybe this
’ll make it easier for me to see her.”

  “Mated into that pack?”

  “Yeah. Jersey girl, just like me. I waited as long as I could for her to tell me her pack was putting out another mate call, but I…couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Huh.

  Given the wistful tone of Ashley’s voice, Lisa suspected that Ashley might have been operating on a deadline of sorts, too.

  “How long have you been waiting?” Lisa asked.

  “A couple of years.”

  Lisa whistled low. “I guess you weren’t in a hurry.”

  Ashley’s cheek twitched. “Not until recently.”

  “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

  Lisa could tell when Alpha was back in proximity without looking up because the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her gut went flip-flop. The guy had to be a born alpha. His energy was unmistakable. She’d only ever encountered the breathtaking surge a couple of times, and neither time had been with her old pack’s alpha.

  Instinctively, Lisa stood, as did the other three women on the bench with her.

  “Ah, sit,” Alpha said. “You’ll get over the compulsion to stand soon enough, just like my wife.” He chuckled.

  They sat.

  Alpha rubbed his palms together and eyed each woman yet again. He paced in front of them, scratching his chin and looking over their heads to where Lisa was almost certain the waiting bachelors were standing. The other women turned to look, but Lisa didn’t want to kill the suspense just yet. She’d turned to look during her last matching, and the sense of disappointment had seeped deeper and deeper with each step he took. By the time her potential mate had made it to the tree where the ladies were waiting, Lisa had already thought up five reasons to say no. The weed stench had just pushed her over the edge.

  Alpha waved over one wolf, who walked away with the half-wolf redhead beside her, and then another, who took Ashley away.

  The quivering leaf of a lady at the far end of the bench had her head down and eyes closed, as if she needed to pray her way through the ordeal. Lisa wanted to squeeze her shoulder and say, “Hey, it’s okay,” but she’d never been a liar. She didn’t know what that little woman was going to get stuck with. For that matter, she could only hope Alpha knew what the fuck he was doing. Supposedly, a good alpha could feel the right mate match in his bones, or something. Lisa hoped his bones were extra wise, and that Alpha was honorable enough to actually listen to them.

  “All right. This’ll be interesting, I think.” Alpha waved someone over and pointed to Lisa.

  Oh, shit. She didn’t like that word—interesting.

  Interesting got people into trouble.

  Lisa stood again, this time turning to watch the man approach. She let out an involuntary grunt of appreciation.

  He was tall, broad, smiling like the cat that got the cream, and blond.

  She canted her head and squinted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been with a blond. Not common in werewolves, I guess.”

  “Common enough where he was from, but don’t worry,” Alpha said with a chuckle. “As far as I know, he’s not too terribly inbred.”

  “Alpha,” she scolded, and then realized what she’d done. She slapped her forehead. “Shit, did I say that out loud? I’m so sorry.” In most packs, speaking out of turn to the alpha was a surefire way to earn a mauling, but something about the energy of her new home loosened her tongue, for better or worse.

  “Eh, don’t worry about it. My wife doesn’t like my jokes, either.” He shrugged, nonplussed.

  Jeez. She let out a breath. Rein it in, girl.

  “Lisa, meet Colt Baylor. Colt, meet Lisa.”

  The blond wolf named Colt took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

  “Charming. Off to the right start, I see,” she said.

  “Of course. And you know what they say about blonds, right?”

  “What’s that?”

  He wriggled his eyebrows, and his dark blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “That we have so much more fun.”

  “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

  “Probably.”

  Alpha let out a long breath and massaged his temples. “I wish he were lying. Take her to my house and get her bags, Colt. I hope you cleaned up.”

  “Sure, sure.” Colt grinned one of those politician smiles that were all teeth and no truth.

  Oh, god. He was too blithe, too glib. She’d bet half a brick of gold that whichever of those adobe houses he lived in smelled like a frat house, and probably had sneakers and titty mags scattered all about.

  Oh well. She’d suck it up and deal with it. As long as he was trying to do something with his life, she wouldn’t complain. All things considered, she had it pretty good. He was attractive—in a Wheaties box athlete kind of way—and seemed to have a pretty hot body beneath that long-sleeved black tee and faded jeans. He’d probably have no problem bench-pressing his own weight. The last guy she’d been paired up with…

  Ugh.

  She suppressed a groan and gestured for Colt to lead the way.

  “Good luck,” she whispered to the last lady on the bench as she passed, but the woman didn’t look up. The poor thing was still praying.

  Colt walked into the nearest house, and called through the screen door, “What do your bags look like?”

  “One is bright blue, one has purple flowers, and there’s a laptop bag that has the monogram LLM on it.”

  That was everything she owned, in three bags. For the second time in her life, she’d pared down to just the basics so she could travel light, and she hoped she would never have to live so austerely ever again.

  He carried it all out and tilted his head toward the house in the opposite corner of the courtyard. There were five identical houses there, and there seemed to be a few more lots marked off for future expansion, as well. That was good. That meant the pack was looking to grow, and that there’d be space for others. They weren’t so insular and set in their ways yet. Dynamic packs were healthy packs. She wouldn’t bring her sisters to a place where there wasn’t the potential for them to thrive. She wanted more for them than the bare minimum. They deserved kindness and human decency, even if they weren’t quite human.

  “I’m counting on you to impress me,” she said to her wolf.

  “Oh, yeah?” He chuckled and passed her laptop bag over to her before setting off down the stone path. “You mean my superior good looks and large hands and feet don’t do it for you?”

  “I need a little more than that.”

  “Oh, I doubt you could take half of what I’ve got.”

  “I hope you’ve got some ambition to go along with that slick mouth of yours.”

  “I’m plenty ambitious. I’ve already gotten half of my to-do list for the day accomplished.”

  “I’m not so easy to impress. How many items were on the list?”

  “Just two. You think you’re smart, huh?”

  “I know I am.” Gambling on mate calls aside, anyway. “What was the first item on your list for today?”

  He propped open the screen door and turned the inner door’s knob. “Pick up a chick. That was a pretty big item.”

  She rolled her eyes at his back. Oh, God. “What’s the item yet to be marked off?” She figured she might as well ask, although she already had her suspicions.

  “It actually has two parts.” He opened the door and pulled in her bags.

  She stepped into the cool, airy living room, took one look around, and stepped back outside with a bark of laughter. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Hey, it’s not the Taj Mahal, but it’s home.”

  “I wouldn’t care if it was a tent if it were well taken care of. Is that your idea of cleaning?”

  It was worse than a frat house. It was half Hoarders episode and half horror movie creepy. It looked as if a tornado had ripped through his house and deposited every scrap of roadside trash within a ten-mile radius into his living room. At least it didn’t sme
ll, though.

  “It is clean, from a hygienic perspective,” he said. “Just not de-cluttered. I’m going to clean up for real.”

  She got the sneaking suspicion that was a promise he’d made before and often, but she kept her mouth shut and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Don’t give me that look,” he said. “It’s the same one Mrs. Carbone gives me. Shit, everyone’s a skeptic. I will do it. It’s not a big fuckin’ deal. Just step around the mess, princess. It won’t burn you to get close. But if it bothers you so much, feel free to tidy up.”

  She hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder. “Excuse me?” She thought maybe she hadn’t heard him right, or that perhaps he would realize what a stupid thing he’d said and recant it.

  “You’re going to be home all day, so you might as well get started now.”

  “Oh. Okay. Ha! Well, then.” She turned on her heel and hauled ass back to the bench, where Alpha remained with that praying chick.

  Unbe-fucking-lievable. I’d have no luck at all if it weren’t for bad luck.

  “What’s wrong?” Alpha asked when Lisa dropped her bag on the bench.

  She cut the air with a slash of her hand and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I know beggars can’t be choosers when they answer mate calls, but I’d rather repay you for my travel expenses and fly myself home than play house with a mate who thinks he’s getting a wolf maid out of the deal. Fuck that.”

  She clapped her hand over her mouth. Shit. Apparently, her filter had completely unhinged during travel to New Mexico.

  Alpha stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants and rocked back on his boot heels. She expected there to be an energy flare—a punishing squeeze meant to put her in her place, but he kept his power in check. In fact, it didn’t seem to fluctuate at all.

  He pushed up one bushy eyebrow. “You don’t trust me?”

  “Look, I don’t mean to be tart. I know how to behave, even when I think the rules are stupid. Wolves have to toe the line, and usually I’m pretty good at it. You gotta understand this isn’t my first time answering a call, and after the last one, I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again. But then I did do it again, because I was out of options.”