My Plan B (Middlemarch Shifters Book 11)

by Shelley Munro

  “Pop, let’s finish our shopping. Do you fancy leek and potato soup this week?”

  With the reporter and cameraman gone, Jacey’s wolf settled, but he was aware of the other shoppers pointing at them, whispering behind their hands.

  London linked her arm through his as they neared the meat aisle. The blast of cooler air from the chillers helped him bat back his wolf who subsided, finally, with a grumpy snarl.

  “We have plenty of meat, but I like to check out the specials. How do you feel about roast chicken for a change?”

  “I think I need alcohol or chocolate,” Jacey grumbled, and London relaxed, her brittle smile turning into something more natural as she placed two frozen chickens into the trolley.

  “How about we do some baking and make bread once we get home? You can pretend the dough is a reporter.”

  Jacey snorted but followed London down the baking aisle. He’d taught Henry how to bake bread because all the kneading and punching had helped to calm his wolf and he’d thought it might help his son in times of need. And the fact they’d both enjoyed homemade bread didn’t hurt.

  “Focaccia bread,” he suggested. “It will go good with the soup.”

  Back in the SUV, with the groceries loaded, Jacey tried Megan again. His call went straight to voicemail.

  “Send a text,” London suggested. “Ask her why she’s hobnobbing with famous singers. Tell her I want to know if he’s sexy in person.”

  “Casual and non-confrontational.”

  “Yes,” London agreed.

  An excellent plan and not his first instinct. He’d intended to snarl at her and demand answers. This was better. Much better. He typed in the message and sent it. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. “I couldn’t have a better daughter-in-law.”

  A blush of pleasure filled London’s face. “I don’t exactly have competition for the job. No doubt I will in the future.” Her cheeks paled again as she thought of her sister and her untimely death.

  At least, that was what Jacey presumed. “Gerard is lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  Jacey put the SUV in gear and took the road for Middlemarch. At least the reporter had vanished, and they wouldn’t need to deal with them again today.

  * * * * *

  Later that day, Executive Suite, Barret Hotel, Downtown Auckland

  “The job is yours, Ms. Saxon,” Dillion Grieves said. “I’ve asked my agent to contact yours with the contract.”

  “Thank you. You’d better call me Megan since we will be working together. One more thing I’d better tell you before the final contracts are signed. We discussed doing the interviews via skype and some in person. That’s still fine, but I’m pregnant, and I won’t be up to travel later on in my pregnancy.”

  “Crap,” Dillion said.

  “Problem?” Megan asked coolly.

  “The paparazzi grabbed photos of our dinner meeting. My agent told me when we spoke, but I haven’t seen them. He said they look intimate. Is that going to cause problems?”

  “Ah, I wondered why I had so many messages. I was running late after visiting my sister and didn’t have time to check them. I’m an auntie again.” A thrill went through her, both for her sister and for her coming baby. The doctor said she was in great health and had given her a referral to a doctor in Dunedin.

  “Will your man be upset?”

  Megan paused with her fruit juice halfway to her mouth. “If I were him, I’d be irked.”

  “I’d be pissed,” Dillion said. “But then, that’s me. I have a temper.”

  “I’ll ring him as soon as we’re finished,” she said.

  “I’ve asked for a confidentiality clause in the contract, but if you trust him to keep quiet, you can tell him the truth about our meeting.”

  “I would have told him anyway,” Megan said, realizing she trusted Jacey. The man was honorable and had more integrity than most people of her acquaintance.

  Dillon narrowed his eyes.

  “I will do the work at home. He will see my notes and research. Jacey isn’t stupid. He can add one and one.”

  Dillion nodded, after a long pause in which he assessed her intently. “Fair enough, but he opens his mouth and tells anyone, I’ll sue. No one else must learn of it until just before release date. I want to surprise the public and give them a week to clamor for the book and speculate. That is my plan.”

  “I understand.” Megan held out her hand, and they shook. “If you can swing it, there is a place on the outskirts of Middlemarch that is used to visiting celebrities. They have security and look after their guests. You could stay there. Middlemarch, the town where I’m going to live, is a small country town. The locals have been good to me and they haven’t talked to the reporters.”

  Dillion tapped a long finger against his chin, his gaze distant as if in thought. “Shania Twain has a property down that way. Wanaka somewhere, I think.”

  “Think about it. You could fly into Queenstown. It’s smaller and you’re less likely to attract attention, especially if you keep a low presence.”

  Dillon nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

  Ten minutes later, hotel security held back the reporters as Megan climbed into a taxi. She’d intended to walk the short distance to her apartment. The press made that impossible. Instead, she studied the moon through the window of the cab and admired the way it glowed on the dark waters of the inner harbor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jacey sat in the lounge with Henry and Gerard, idly watching the Super Rugby final between the Hurricanes and the Lions. A New Zealand team versus a South African team. The final and he couldn’t focus on the plays and darting runs of the backline.

  His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. Megan. The underlying tension simmering in his gut turned up in heat.

  The two boys glanced at him, and London appeared from the direction of the kitchen.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it, Pop?” she asked.

  Henry pushed pause on the game. The phone rang again.

  Jacey answered the call. “Hey, sweet pea.” The taut tone echoed the tightness in his muscles.

  “Jacey, I’ve missed you. I have great news. Three pieces actually. My agent just confirmed it. I’m writing Dillion Grieves biography. The press took photos of us together, although I guess from your text you’ve already seen them. The project is hush-hush, so you can’t tell anyone else. I had to sign a confidentiality clause and can get sued if the word gets out.”

  Jacey’s muscles unclenched. His breath whooshed out of him. “T-that’s great news. I won’t say a word to anyone.” He glanced at Henry and Gerard and waited for them to give him quick nods of agreement. London wouldn’t have heard Megan’s words with her human ears. “And the other two things?”

  She laughed. “The doctor confirmed I’m pregnant and in good health, and I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ve still got to finish packing, but I’ve arranged shipping for the important stuff. Can you pick me up at the airport tomorrow? My flight gets in at eleven.”

  “I’ll be there,” Jacey said. “I’m going to be a dad.”

  “Me too. A mother, I mean. How cool is that?”

  “Very,” Jacey whispered, not even caring that the kids could hear everything. “I miss you.”

  “Ditto,” Megan said. “Eleven tomorrow. I’m saving a big hug for you.”

  “I’ll need more than a hug,” Jacey said.

  “That could be arranged.”

  Jacey hung up with a smile as he heard the slight gagging sounds coming from Henry.

  “Pop,” London said. “Did I hear right? You and Megan are having a baby? What went wrong? I thought you used condoms?”

  Henry sprang to his feet, crossed to the chocolate-brown two-seater where Jacey sat, and hauled Jacey to his feet for a hug. “I suspected, but you said nothing, so I kept quiet.”

  Gerard nudged Henry aside to give Jacey a hug too. “Huh! I had my suspicions too. I didn’t say anything because ne
ither of you did.”

  Henry returned to his seat, the boy appearing happier than normal. Geoffrey trotted over to Henry and nudged his hand in a demand for a pat.

  “Hey!” London had her hands planted on her hips. “How did you suspect?”

  “Megan smelled different last time we saw her,” Gerard explained.

  London wrinkled her nose, her chin lifting as she gave her mate attitude. “You could’ve whispered in my ear.”

  Gerard winked at her. “I believe we were busy doing other things.”

  Jacey watched the delightful surge of color creep to London’s cheeks, obscuring her freckles. “You’re the first human I’ve told and amongst the first officially given the news.”

  “Well,” London said, appearing mollified. “I guess that is okay. Is Megan staying in Auckland? Are you a couple or are you friends?”

  “Megan is coming to live in Middlemarch.” Jacey felt his chest expand—puff out, in truth—and wanted to punch his fist into the air. Instead, he dropped onto the two-seater and leaned back against the cushion, arms spread wide. His sigh held happiness.

  “Does Megan know about shifters? About werewolves?”

  “No.” His satisfaction dispersed like a balloon-pop at London’s question. So much had happened in a short time. He hadn’t wanted to tell Megan the truth about his origins until he’d felt more certain of her. Now, a baby tied them together for the foreseeable future. “I’ll tell her, of course, but I wanted to wait and speak to Gavin about any problems that might occur.”

  London went to Gerard and slipped her arm around his waist. “No matter when you tell her, Pop, it will be a shock. Tell her she can talk to me if she wants. Will the baby be a werewolf?”

  “No.” Faint regret filled him at the truth. “Wolves differ from felines. When a wolf mates with a human, the genes are diluted and the offspring can’t shift.”

  London leaned into Gerard. “When we have kids, they’ll be able to shift to feline, right?”

  “Yes.” Gerard kissed the top of her head.

  “When we first met Megan, I thought she smelled of wolf,” Henry said. “It’s stronger now, but that’s your scent imprinted over hers.”

  London frowned. “I don’t understand. How is that possible? Why would you pick up a wolf scent from her?”

  Henry resettled on his chair and picked up a bottle of beer. “She must have an ancestor who bore werewolf blood. It’s more common than you’d think.”

  “So when is Megan coming back?” London asked.

  “Tomorrow at eleven. Can you boys do without me for the day?”

  “Why don’t you take a couple of days?” Henry asked. “We have that big job next week, but nothing Gerard and I can’t handle this week.”

  “No, I’ve already taken days off. Megan won’t mind. She’ll have her own work to do. She’ll need office space. Can she take the spare room next to London’s office? Can we rehouse the parts somewhere else?”

  “There is room in the warehouse. It makes better sense to have all the parts together,” Henry said.

  “Why does Megan need an office?” London asked.

  Jacey tapped the side of his nose. “She might tell you.” He grinned. “The woman is full of secrets.”

  “I will be filling in at Storm in a Teacup for Emily during the next week. Morning sickness is hitting her hard, and Saber wanted her to dial back at the café for a while. Tell Megan she’s welcome to use my office until you can set up something for her.”

  “Thanks,” Jacey said.

  “Is my good nature and kind offer worth the trade of a secret?” Her impish smile tugged an answering one from him.

  “Ask Megan. I’m not confessing any secrets.”

  “Don’t think I won’t,” London said.

  “Are we going to watch this game or what?” Henry pushed the start button without waiting for a reply.

  Jacey watched the players toss the ball from one side of the field to the other and the Lions team tackle them hard, but instead of following the game, his mind drifted. Megan was coming home and it couldn’t happen soon enough.

  * * * * *

  The next day, Dunedin airport

  Megan smoothed her hand over her long brown hair—a cheap wig, purchased last year for a fancy dress party—and after pulling on a cream merino beanie, exited the plane. She sent a text to Jacey. I’ve arrived. In disguise. Brown wig. Cream beanie. Red handbag. Jeans and cream jumper.

  Her phone beeped seconds after she sent her text.

  Also in disguise thx to London. Black hair. Jeans. Purple/black jacket. Waiting at arrivals gate.

  “Great minds,” she murmured, earning a curious gaze from a pair of teenage girls. They took one look at her and sniggered, heads pressed together. Clearly, they considered talking to one’s self a sign of madness.

  Ignoring them and the other passengers, she hefted her computer bag, repositioned the long strap of her red handbag over her shoulder and increased her speed. She’d been gone longer than she’d expected, found the break from Jacey painful. Understandably, Tessa was concerned about the rapid manner in which Megan was changing her future. She’d argued that just because Megan was pregnant, she didn’t have to move to a small town that was nothing more than a dot on the map.

  Megan had regretted spilling the news about the baby to Tessa, given the lectures she’d received in return. She hadn’t meant to, but excitement had her blurting out the news during a visit to see Tessa’s new baby. Anyone would think she was the younger sister. Megan pushed aside the hurt caused by the friction. Tessa thought Jacey had hit on her because of her fame, and she’d made her disapproval of the recent gossip regarding Megan and Dillion Grieves clear.

  Frustration ate at her as she recalled their heated conversation. Unable to defend herself or explain, she stood there, stinging under the lash of Tessa’s censure. She strode into the arrivals’ hall and scanned the expectant faces.

  “Hey, pretty lady.”

  She whirled on hearing Jacey’s voice, blinked a fraction at his appearance, then threw herself at him. His muscular arms welcomed her, and she leaned into his strength.

  He pulled back when someone jostled them from behind and took her hand. “Let’s collect your luggage and get out of here. Let me carry your laptop bag.” He held out his hand.

  She hesitated because she’d had another casual interview with Dillion, and she’d hate anyone to get hold of her notes.

  “Confidential stuff?”

  His voice held no judgment, and she nodded.

  “No problem. I understand.”

  Relief beat a tattoo through her veins. Tessa would have pitched a blue fit. She had lashed out when Megan refused to discuss her meeting with Dillion. It was true that Jacey had learned the truth about Dillion, but he wasn’t pushing for more and she appreciated his trust. “Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I missed you. My bed felt lonely.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Jacey organized her luggage and fifteen minutes later, they were on their way to Middlemarch.

  “You know,” she said as they drove up the long winding drive to the house. “I have the urge for a nap.”

  “Are you tired?”

  “Not especially.” She scanned the house, turned to Jacey and everything inside her welcomed and embraced the sensation of home. The entire time she’d been away from Middlemarch, a low-level anxiety had kept her on edge, her thoughts on Jacey and how it felt with the miles between them. “I missed you so much.”

  “Do you need to go back to Auckland?”

  “Not in the near future. I think Jeremy was relieved when I handed in my notice because they didn’t know what to do with me now that they’ve given Rowena my job. I thought the poor man might expire when I knocked on his office door and asked to speak with him.”

  “Will you miss your job?”

  “I’ll miss the people I worked with and the rugby, but I’ll have different challenges now. I’m exci
ted about the biography and I can work on my own books, start my new series. Then there is the baby. I think I’ll have plenty to do.”

  There was no one in the communal rooms when they entered the house.

  “Where is everyone?” Megan found she’d missed them too—the charming Gerard and his bubbly wife, London, and Henry. If their baby turned out anything like Henry or Gerard, she couldn’t help but be a proud mother.

  “London is filling in for Emily Mitchell at the café. Emily is suffering from morning sickness. The boys are out fitting security lights at a new business in Hyde.”

  “So we have the house to ourselves?”

  “For the moment.”

  She yawned—a fake one—and burst out laughing at Jacey’s expression. “I’m not really tired, but I need you. I’ve been imagining making love with you for the entire flight from Auckland.”

  Jacey muttered a low curse. “Work can wait. Let’s go.” He dragged her through the communal rooms and into his suite.

  Their suite.

  Megan gave a delighted laugh and followed without hesitation. Jacey set her bag down and turned to her. He prowled toward her, gaze intent and, laughing again, she backed up until the bed halted her retreat. Before she could decide what to do next, he jumped her. They fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Their lips met, and neither of them left the bedroom for a long, long time.

  * * * * *

  Three weeks later

  “Hey, Jacey,” Henry said. “Gerard and I are going for a run with Leo and Isabella Mitchell. Do you want to come? We’re leaving in half an hour.”

  Jacey considered and gave a quick nod. “Just let me tell Megan I’m going out for a bit.”

  “You told her yet?”

  Jacey sighed, “No. I’ve started to half a dozen times, then I chicken out or the subject drifts.”

  “You haven’t claimed her properly?”

  “No, I wanted to give her time before I mark her.” One similarity between cats and wolves. Both species bit their partners on the marking site—the pad of flesh at the base of the neck where it met the shoulder. Once the marking occurred a stronger bond developed between the mates, and only death parted them. Moira and he had both worn each other’s mark, and he’d mourned when his had vanished after her death.