by J. J. Massa
A FAMILY PORTRAIT
BY
J. J. MASSA
A FAMILY PORTRAIT
J. J. Massa
Published 2005
ISBN 1-59578-133-1
Liquid Silver Books
http://lsbooks.com
Email: [email protected]
Editor Tracey West
Cover Art by April Martinez
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235
. Copyright © 2005, JJ Massa. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Dedication
To my editor Tracey who inspired this book and continues to inspire me every single day and to my husband Jimmy who loves me and supports me in everything I do.
Chapter 1
Tavist Darke stood deep in the woods watching as the little girl got off the bus. He recognized her scent. Her family had moved into the small house just past his at the end of the road. Theirs were the only two houses here. Tav’s house was hidden in the trees.
There were two other things he’d noticed when he’d gone to check out the new family. He found that no man lived there and fear had moved into that house. One woman lived there, one girl, and two young boys, all very much in fear of something or someone.
As he watched the little girl, he saw that she didn’t walk down the middle of the road like most innocent children eager to get home. She was like a little animal. Little mice, the little rabbits, even small birds that so cautiously peek out and very carefully make their way from safe haven to safe haven.
Predators were everywhere. He remembered in Somalia and other distant places where he’d served his country. The children, the mothers, everyone would edge so carefully out of their homes trying to meet various needs and not be attacked. It broke his heart that the most innocent of citizens had to live in fear.
Today, it seemed, the little girl was right to be cautious. She was being stalked. From behind her came two boys who were a little older than her seven or eight years. One boy pushed her down and the other grabbed her backpack and dumped it out.
They had begun to taunt her when Tav grabbed them by the backs of their necks. He lifted them into his face. They were Were pups.
“Go home. Tell your Mamas and Daddies that I was mean to you. Tell them to come talk to me. They’d better bring the Sheriff. It’s not safe to walk down this road if you don’t live here,” he growled, dropping the two miscreants.
If the Sheriff came, that was fine. He was a werewolf, too. He and Tav understood one another. Tav would not interfere with his pack or issue a pack challenge. Tav’s territory began at the southern edge of town and consisted of the forty acres he lived on. He owned the only two houses on the property.
Tav turned to the little girl. She was struggling to hold back her tears and contain her fear. His heart melted. Dropping to his knees, he began to put her books, papers and pencils back in her backpack.
Handing it to her, he noticed that her knee was scraped up with gravel from the road. He pulled out his handkerchief and began to clean it.
“N-no, mister, I’m, I’m okay. I gotta get home. M-Mama’ll be worried!” She scrambled backward and ran.
He listened to her progress and heard her stop much sooner than she should have. If he wasn’t mistaken—he lifted his nose to the air—yep, she was standing in the trees on the right. Nowhere near her house.
Tav decided to wait. He sat in the dirt at the side of the road and just listened to the small animals that lived in the woods on either side. He kept his attention on the little girl who was carefully resuming her journey home from the bus stop.
He pictured her coming into her yard and running up the steps to her porch. He imagined her throwing open the door to her house and calling out for her mother.
Pain hit him square in the chest in an unexpected blow to his heart. He wrapped both arms around his middle and doubled over. If he hadn’t been sitting, he would have been driven to his knees.
Tate, his little boy, would have been that girl’s age if he’d lived. Grief overwhelmed him. In the seven years since the death of his mate and pup, the hurt hadn’t lessened. How he missed the feel of that warm little body squirming in his arms. Tav closed his eyes and imagined the last time he’d seen his son alive.
The little boy had been so proud of himself—he’d put his own shoes on that morning. His mother, Kylie, had been rushing around anxious to drop Tate off at daycare so that she could meet with some gallery owners that wanted Tav’s work. She felt it was important that Tate spend time with other children. Tav missed him, both of them, so much. He howled low in his throat, mourning.
After a minute, Tav began to climb to his feet. That’s when he saw it.
It was a letter sized square of cardstock. Turning it over, he saw a gold leaf seal and read:
Certificate of Recognition
In Appreciation of the Best Spelling Grade
Ashley West
Is presented with this prestigious award
Presented by:
Certificate # LMH 46258465411
Merlinda Eugene, Third Grade Teacher
Tav smiled to himself. This was too important a document not to return to her. No doubt little Ashley West would be very disappointed if she couldn’t share her success with her mother.
Still smiling, Tav walked up the dirt driveway and into the yard in front of little Ashley’s house. He heard a movement to his right and glanced over in time to see a very small boy rounding the corner of the house.
From inside the house, Tav heard a woman’s voice saying, “I’ve got to go, Sue. The best looking man I’ve ever seen in my life just strolled into my front yard and he’s going to scare my children half to death any minute now.”
Catching sight of Tav, the little guy emitted a squawk of surprise and plopping down on his tiny bottom, began to howl.
“Shut up, ya big baby! C’mon, Christopher, Mom’s gonna hear…” An older boy, older than the toddler, anyway, had just raced around to the front of the house. He hit the brakes when he spotted Tav. “Mom!” came his strangled shout. “Mo-om!”
Both children were apparently frozen in fear. The fear scent was punctuated by the urine smell of the youngest boy giving in to nature’s call.
He heard the sound of a phone being placed on its hook and then approaching footsteps. For the second time in less than an hour, Tav felt the air whoosh from his lungs as if he’d fallen flat on his back from a great height.
“In the house boys!” the little flame-haired titan snapped. “Now.” She said it evenly but that one word mobilized the two frozen boys. As they scampered behind her and through the front door, she trained her icy blue gaze on Tav. “Help you, mister?”
How can her eyes look icy and hot at the same time? The part of his brain that handled motor skills came to his rescue. He stepped forward and extended the hand holding Ashley’s certificate of recognition.
Her eyes never left his face as she rested one hand on the porch railing and reached out for the document. Looking down, her lush mouth curved into a beautiful smile. Just when he thought he could draw a breath into his lungs, the air rushed from them again.
“Oh thank you, mister! Ashley is going to be so happy!” she began to turn and the railing she was holding gave out.
She’d been half turned away from him and holding the railing for support. Now, arms pin wheeling, she fell, right into his waiting embrace.
Allegedly an involuntary bodily function, Tav found that his body had apparently volunteered to stop breathing. Cinnamon rolls, apple blossoms, vanilla beans—man she smells good! Tav resisted the urge to bury his face in the satin waves of fire colored hair just under his chin.
Must let go! Must relax arms! Must release woman. MUST. LET. GO. OF. WOMAN!
“Are you okay, ma’am?” he managed, clearing his throat. He’d relaxed his arms, but he didn’t release her. That was fair enough because she was still clinging to him, trembling.
“I think so…”
Did she realize that her nose was buried in the vee of his shirt? He could feel her eyelashes tickling his sternum when she closed her eyes. Tav angled his pelvis a little so that his hip was touching her abdomen. If he stood flush against her, his erection would probably knock her down.
Reluctantly, he eased her to sit on the edge of the high porch. She seemed a little stunned.
He looked over her head at the little girl standing just inside the door. “Ashley? Would you bring me a wet towel or washcloth?”
He heard the scurry of small feet, the hollow sound of water running, and then she was back. Shyly, the little girl came just to arm’s length and handed him the washcloth. Immediately, she backed away.
“I’m Tavist Darke, by the way,” he told the woman, wiping the blood away from the deep scratch on her arm. “Do you have any antibiotic ointment? Gauze?”
The red-haired goddess jerked from his touch. “I’ll put something on it when I go inside. Thanks for all your help, Darke.” She had apparently gotten over being stunned.
“When we come to fix the porch in the morning, my buddies Marc or T. Paul can look at your arm. They’re both doctors,” he explained.
“Thank you for your concern, Darke,” she growled. Whew, she’s hot. “It won’t be necessary for you or your friends to fix my porch or look at my arm.”
“Okay,” he said, easily.
He stepped back and smiled. She probably thought he was agreeing with her. He wasn’t—not in the way she was thinking. He was simply acknowledging that it wasn’t strictly necessary. He did all kinds of things that weren’t necessary.
* * * * *
Tracey West had gone to bed the night before fuming. She’d gotten up this morning narrow-eyed. She was still grumbling when her best friend Sue arrived in time to drive Ashley to the bus stop.
Sue didn’t live close enough anymore to just drop in, but sometimes, she did it anyway. The two women had become firm friends first through email when Tracey had joined an online reader’s group and then, upon learning that they lived reasonably close to each other, they managed to meet in person. Not long after that, the two were fast friends.
Sue had supported Tracey during her difficult pregnancy with Christopher, never judging her the times she’d tried to leave Jack, her ex, and failed. Later, after her youngest son Christopher was born, Sue had been there, offering shelter and a shoulder to lean on as Tracey finally pressed charges against Jack and had him put in jail.
Now, she and Sue were closer than sisters and spoke on the phone daily. They now lived only an hour away from each other and both women lamented the distance. Sue had the day off today and came early, planning to leave before supper.
Tracey knew that Sue was merely humoring her and that just made her angrier. Right now, Sue was sitting in a chair listening smugly to her complain about the horrible hunky man with the sexy voice who’d brought her little girl’s paper home after saving the child from bullies. After that, the drool-worthy jerk had the audacity to catch her in his muscular arms and care for her injury!
That wasn’t bad enough, though. The studly pig had suggested that he’d bring friends and fix the dangerous broken railing. Men! Who did they think they were? Sue was openly laughing at her, she could tell.
“I’ll take that one!” Sue said firmly, pointing and walking to the screen door.
“Huh?” Tracey uncurled her diminutive frame from the couch and joined her friend at the door.
“There were three…” Sue mused. “I wonder where the other one went?”
Tracey stood dumbfounded as not one, but two very attractive men were standing in front of her porch holding what could only be porch railings. Forgetting that she was dressed only in her knee length pink sleep shirt emblazoned with the image of Sweet Polly Purebred, Tracey flung open the door and stomped out.
“There’s the third hunky guy!” Sue grinned.
A smiling man had been standing by the door, obviously waiting for her. As soon as Tracey stopped moving and put her hands on her hips, he pounced.
“Mornin’, ma’am. I’m T. Paul Fonteneax,” he introduced himself, while he removed her makeshift bandage and wiped off the cream she’d applied.
“Hey!” she squealed, then she whipped around to look at Tav.
The man with him seemed to be having a great deal of trouble containing his mirth. In fact, tears were streaming down his face and he turned away.
“This hyena over here is my friend Marc. Marc Fonteneax, meet West.” He had the nerve to smile at her. Smile at her! How DARE he speak to her in such a sexy voice and smile that intimate bedroom smile at her!
“Stop that!” she turned and snapped at T. Paul.
“Okay,” he grinned. It seemed he had finished anyway.
“What are you doing here?” she growled at Tav.
“I’m fixing the porch railing,” he explained patiently.
“I told you not to!” He doesn’t have to look so proud of himself, does he?
“Actually, ma’am, you said it wasn’t necessary.” His mouth kicked up in a half smile. “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”
Tracey looked at Tavist Darke’s handsome face. His gray eyes sparkled with humor. He looked like a mischievous little boy with that little half smile. Okay, not a mischievous little boy, a mischievous BIG boy.
She whirled around and stomped into the house. Turning toward her friend sharply, Tracey was just in time to see Sue wave at the men as she followed her through the door. Plopping down on the couch, she reached for her coffee. Wisely, Sue didn’t say a word.
The women sat in silence listening to the men outside. At first, the sound of Marc Fonteneax finally letting go of his laughter was all that could be heard.
“Oh where, oh where…” he choked, laughing.
“…Has my Underdog gone?” his brother guffawed.
“There's no need to fear, Underdog is here!” the two brothers were laughing again.
“You two aren’t hyenas, you’re coyotes!” Tav growled at them in a low, amused voice.
“Brother, if that’s Sweet Polly Purebred, I wanna fight crime!” T. Paul spoke up.
“I’m telling Lacey you said that,” rumbled Tav.
“Come on, Underdog! Let’s sing a song, want to?”
Tracey stood and headed down the hall to check on the boys and change her clothes. Glancing out the window at the end of the hall, she saw Marc throw an arm across Tav’s shoulders. T. Paul threw an arm across him on the other side. Both brothers began to sing.
“Speed of lightning, roar of thunder!” They were beginning to laugh again. “Fighting all who rob or plunder!”
Now Tav was laughing unrestrainedly too. “I swear I should’ve gone back to the zoo!”
Tracey shook her head and joined her boys who were both gathered at their window watching the “Hot Men Laughing Show”.
It wasn’t long before Sue joined the trio at the window, laughing and elbowing Tracey. “They look like a fun bunch of guys, don’t they?” she chuckled.
“Um, I don’t know, Aunt Sue,” Jacob offered nervously. “They’re laughing but they’re awfully big.”
&
nbsp; “Well, buddy,” Sue grinned at Jacob and then at Tracey, “No law says great big, good-looking guys can’t be a lot of fun, right?”
“Sue,” Tracey growled a warning, “What’re you up to here?”
“Nothing, for heaven’s sake,” Sue shot back impatiently. “Look, Tracey, they aren’t here to take advantage of you or do anything to the kids. They’re over there fixing your porch, woman!”
Tracey heaved a gusty sigh. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sure they’re just great big good Samaritans. It’s just…” she took a deep breath and turned her head, swallowing to keep the niggle of fear under control. “They’re strangers, Sue.”
“Tracey,” Sue moved around beside her friend while the boys continued to watch the men’s antics. “What are you teaching your kids by not giving these guys a chance?”
“I’m teaching them caution, Sue,” she snapped in an angry whisper.
“They already know how to be cautious, Tracey, you’re teaching them to be afraid— to stay afraid—of everybody,” Tracey felt a jolt of anger flash through her body.
If it was aimed at herself or her best friend, she wasn’t sure.
She took another deep, fortifying breath. “What do you think I should do then?” she gritted.
“How about we keep an eye on them and on the boys without keeping ourselves locked in the house all day? Fair?” Sue looked at her innocently.
“Fair,” Tracey growled back with ill grace, snatching up Christopher and heading to the bathroom with him.
Chapter 2
“You can tell ‘em till you’re blue in the face,” T. Paul was expounding. “All women think they’re fat—every doggone one of ‘em. Doesn’t matter what you tell ‘em. Doctor, artist, whatever, you just cannot convince a woman that she’s not fat.”
“My mommy’s not fat.” The men looked over at the small boy edging out the door. “She thinks she is, though.”
“See what I mean? This young man knows and he’s only… How old are you, partner? Twelve? Fourteen?” T. Paul rubbed his chin.