Melinda's Wolves

by Becca Jameson

  Finally, she stopped, both men halting on either side of her. She stared out at the land. “This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Two

  Trace couldn’t believe this was happening. His mind raced with the possibilities. How was this evening going to end? Whose house should they go to? How long did they need to stay at the party before they could make their escape?

  Keegan stepped in front of Melinda and took her face in his hands. “It’s complicated, and it’s simple.” His face was serious. “The logistics will work themselves out. For now, we need to do whatever feels natural, get to know each other.”

  Trace stepped up behind his mate. He was drawn to do so as though there was a magnetic pull between them. He set his hands on her slender waist and leaned into her back, sandwiching her with Keegan at her front.

  Melinda leaned back against his chest. “Oh God. It’s overwhelming.” She had the same dark hair as Miles, though hers was long and wavy. Her skin was stunningly clear, a lighter shade than many Native Americans in the area. Her face was round like Miles, and her brown eyes danced in the same jovial manner. The similarities stopped there, however. While Miles was over six feet tall, Melinda was barely five feet.

  “It is.” He stroked his hands up her arms until he reached her bare shoulders. When he flipped her hair away from her neck, he couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss her skin.

  Melinda shivered beneath his touch, her body stiffening a moment later. “Oh God…” she repeated, her voice lower this time.

  Trace watched as Keegan kissed her forehead, inhaling long and slow. He fidgeted as he drew back a few inches. If his cock was half as hard as Trace’s, he had to be hurting.

  Melinda rolled her head forward, setting it on Keegan’s chest. “I never expected… I mean two of you…” Her voice was soft, barely audible. She faced the ground between them.

  “Yeah, I guess that would be a shock for you,” Trace said.

  She lifted her face and twisted it to look at Trace. “It’s not a shock for you?”

  Trace shrugged. “Well, not all of it. After Griffen mated with two people, it was pretty obvious all the Masters men would do the same.”

  “Why?”

  “All of our first cousins, the male ones anyway, on my dad’s side also mated with another man and a woman. When it happened to Griffen, the rest of us assumed we would succumb to the same fate.”

  “I’m just damn lucky to be the other guy,” Keegan said.

  “You’ve been friends for a while?” she asked.

  Trace brushed more of her hair back and squeezed her shoulders. Her bone structure was miniature compared to him and Keegan. “Yes, since kindergarten.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That long? I’m at a severe disadvantage.” She giggled. The sound of her voice tinkling like that made his balls draw up tight.

  He suddenly wondered if he might come in his pants.

  “I don’t care how long you’ve been friends,” she continued. “It still has to be weird to share a woman.”

  Trace didn’t say a word. He didn’t even breathe as he met Keegan’s gaze over her head. The two of them wouldn’t keep secrets from her, but divulging their sexual preferences this early in the relationship was uncomfortable. At the moment he’d rather have hairs plucked from his legs.

  Luckily, she caught on fast before either he or Keegan spoke. She groaned. “Oh God. I’m such an idiot.” She wiggled out from between them and faced them from the side. “You’ve shared women before.”

  Trace hated the way she crossed her arms under her breasts, closing herself off. He nodded.

  She pursed her lips for a moment and then spoke again. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “Why?” Keegan asked. “We aren’t with another woman now. We’re with you.”

  She scrunched up her nose. It was so damn cute. “Yeah, but this is like fated. It seems odd to choose to share ordinarily. And it’s kind of unnerving to know you two have…” She waved a hand in front of her between them.

  Trace tried not to laugh. She was serious. This wasn’t funny to her. “Baby, our past is just that, in the past. We can’t change it. Yes, we have shared women. We can’t deny it. And we won’t keep anything from you. But none of them were you.” He stepped closer. “None of them made me feel half of what I’m experiencing right now.”

  Keegan grabbed for her hand again and snatched it from under her chest. “Sweetheart, we would no sooner be comparing our past experiences with what we’ll have with you than you would compare us with the other men you’ve been with. Surely you can sense that?”

  She blinked. In fact, Trace thought she swallowed also. It didn’t seem she quite agreed. Something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Finally, she yanked her hand from Keegan’s grip and nodded. “Of course.” She turned her gaze toward the house and then gasped. “Shit. I have to get back.”

  At that moment Trace watched his mother lean over the balcony and yell. “Melinda, honey, I’m so sorry. We need you.”

  What the hell? Why on earth would his mother of all people call his mate away from him?

  Melinda started jogging toward the house.

  “Hon?” Keegan asked.

  “The baby,” she said over her shoulder.

  Trace slapped his forehead. Right. Of course. Rebecca was about to have a baby. In fact, she looked like she was going to pop any second when he’d glanced her way in the kitchen. He hadn’t given it much thought since his mind was consumed with meeting Melinda. But he knew she was due any time.

  The question was, how had Melinda known to run for the house before Trace’s mother even called for her? Was she psychic? He needed to understand her abilities better. How powerful was this mate of his?

  •●•

  Melinda raced into the house where her mother grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall to the master bedroom.

  Rebecca was leaning over the bed panting, her enormous belly hanging in front of her. Griffen and Miles flanked her sides, rubbing her back and smoothing their free hands up and down her arms.

  Griffen’s mom, Carlie Masters, scurried around on the other side of the bed, covering the mattress with a plastic sheet to protect it and then soft blankets.

  “Melinda…” Rebecca reached out a hand, angling it around Miles to reach for Melinda.

  “Did anyone call the midwife?” Melinda asked as she pushed her brother out of the way and leaned in close to Rebecca. The two of them had gotten very close over the last year. Melinda could safely say Rebecca was her best friend.

  “She’s on her way,” Carlie said.

  Melinda turned her attention to Rebecca. “How far apart are they?”

  Griffen answered for her. “Three minutes. I timed the last few.”

  Melinda smiled. “Stubborn woman.”

  Rebecca winced as another contraction washed through her.

  “I knew she was in labor,” Miles said. “But she wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “It’s okay. Doesn’t change anything. We’re moving now, and Sheila’s on her way. No harm.” Melinda looked into her friend’s eyes. “You okay?”

  Rebecca nodded, not releasing the grimace on her face. Finally, the contraction passed. “Your mates…” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Crazy night, huh?”

  “You should be with them.”

  “I don’t think they’re going anywhere,” Melinda teased.

  “I feel bad hoarding you.”

  Melinda shrugged. “Stop worrying about me. Let’s get this sweet baby out.”

  Truthfully, Melinda was glad for the distraction. Her entire body had been pulsing with need surrounded by Keegan and Trace. Now that she was inside the house and focused on Rebecca instead, she could gather her brain cells back and take a moment to breathe.

  The house was filled with people. No matter how many of them were in attendance, they couldn’t block the scent of her mates, but at least they masked it enough t
o let her focus on the baby and her friend.

  As long as they stayed in another part of the house…

  The loud noisy party had shifted to a lower decibel since everyone had scrambled to accommodate Rebecca.

  “Is she okay?” Rebecca mumbled.

  Melinda knew she meant the baby. She leaned in closer, hugged Rebecca tight, and set her lips on her ear. “She’s fine.” Miles and Griffen had chosen to think of the baby as a boy—wishfully. Rebecca’s intuition had always screamed girl. And Melinda was inclined to agree.

  Her visions weren’t always specific or one hundred percent accurate, but her gut was rarely wrong. This sweet baby was a little girl. She knew it.

  “Where’s Mimi?” Rebecca asked, lifting her gaze to scan the room.

  “I’m right here, child.” Mimi stepped into view on the other side of the bed. The woman could be almost invisible when she put her mind to it.

  Melinda smiled at the grandmother who raised her and Miles in their mother’s absence. The calm on Mimi’s face spoke volumes. She was a seasoned medicine woman. If anything was amiss, she would know it better than Melinda.

  Rebecca exhaled long and slow, probably also reading Mimi’s expression. Another contraction rushed through her body, buckling her knees.

  Griffen grabbed her hips from behind to steady her. “Don’t you think you should lie down?” he asked.

  Rebecca shook her head, panting.

  Griffen looked at Melinda.

  “She’s fine. As long as she’s comfortable standing, let gravity do its job. Her water hasn’t broken yet.” Melinda would have scented that as soon as she entered the house.

  A shuffle of movement behind Melinda made her turn to find the midwife, Sheila, scurrying into the room.

  Sheila was a godsend. Nearly everyone in their tribe used her for births. Since she herself was a member of the tribe and the pack, she was a shifter and very knowledgeable about their unique species.

  Giving birth to a shifter was no different than giving birth to a full human, but it was nice to have someone lupine present to assist, especially if most of the occupants of the house were shifters.

  Rebecca was nervous, more nervous than the average woman giving birth. Melinda couldn’t blame her. She was human, and her mates were shifters. No amount of trying to convince her the baby would indeed come out in human form and be perfect would ease her nerves.

  “Everybody who doesn’t want an eyeful, out,” Sheila commanded. She bustled around to Rebecca and calmly took her pulse. “How’re you doin’, sweetie?”

  “Good. But I think it’s going to be fast.”

  “Probably, depending on how you look at it. I heard you’ve been in labor all day.”

  Rebecca winced. “Yeah. Sort of.”

  “Let’s see how far along you are.” Sheila helped Rebecca onto the bed. Griffen and Miles hovered next to the bed, assisting.

  Melinda stepped back to give them space. She glanced at her brother and smiled. He’d turned completely to mush, his face white, obvious stress over his mate’s condition written all over him. And he kept chewing on his lower lip.

  That baby would have him wrapped around her little hand in one second.

  •●•

  Keegan paced the giant living room, nursing a beer. He had hoped the alcohol would help him relax, but it was doing nothing to ease his nerves.

  His mate was down the hall somewhere, inconveniently helping her friend give birth.

  He didn’t blame her of course, but he wanted her in his arms, her undivided attention on him. Him and Trace.

  Fate was indeed on their side when She arranged for Trace and Keegan to share a mate. For the first time in his life, he was certain She knew exactly what She was doing.

  He sauntered to a window and stared out into the night. The sun had gone down, but he could see the landscape clearly if he wanted to. Instead, he was inside his head, picturing Melinda’s smile, the way her long hair bounced when she walked. Her small frame encased perfectly in that pale pink dress.

  Trace set a hand on his shoulder. “This is rough.”

  “Yes.”

  “People are starting to leave.”

  “I’m not going to be one of them.”

  Trace chuckled. “Me neither. I hear ya.”

  Keegan turned to face his longtime friend. “How’d we get so lucky?”

  Trace shrugged. “No idea, but I’m not questioning it.”

  “You’ll move in with me,” he stated, his mind running ahead.

  Trace nodded. “Seems reasonable since you have your own house and live alone. I’m sure not taking the two of you back to my condo where my brother sleeps in the other room.”

  “Logan is going to love this.” Keegan smirked.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s already plotting with Zachary.”

  Logan was Trace’s youngest brother and the only one still living at home. Originally the condo had been purchased by the oldest brother, Griffen, who lived in it with Trace. When Griffen moved out, Zachary moved in with Trace. Now, with Trace leaving, Logan would probably have his bags packed before morning.

  Trace cleared his throat. “Of course, we might need to consult with our mate. I’m not sure where she lives, but somewhere on the rez. She might be attached to her place.”

  A shadow fell over them, and Keegan lifted his head to find Trace’s father, Adam, grinning at them. “I hear there’s another imminent mating.”

  Trace shook his father’s hand. “Appears that way.”

  “Carlie is saying goodbye to most of the guests. I guess you two will be sticking around.”

  “Definitely.” Trace didn’t hesitate.

  “Seems it’s true, then,” Adam stated.

  “What’s that?” Keegan asked.

  “This entire generation of Masters must be fated to mate in ménages. I wonder what else Fate has planned?” He pursed his lips, but he didn’t have any more answers than anyone else.

  “It’s not like we’re short on females,” Trace said.

  Keegan chuckled. It was a mystery. “Genetics?”

  They all laughed at that. And then Adam said, “Interesting genes we Masters have.” He patted both their shoulders. “I met your mate, briefly. She’s a sweet woman. I’m very happy for the both of you. Carlie is too. Bring her over for dinner when things calm down.” He winked.

  Things. He was referring to the mating frenzy. How long would it take for things to calm down? Keegan needed to call his own parents. His mother would be pissed if she heard about his mating through Carlie.

  •●•

  Wayne Lassiter picked up the phone on the first ring. “What?” he barked. It was late on a Saturday night. He didn’t like to be disturbed in his home. And he cringed every time he saw this particular number on his caller ID.

  “We have a problem, sir.”

  Wayne glanced at his wife, who smiled over her glass of Chardonnay. She sat in a leather armchair in the corner of his study, her gorgeous long legs crossed at the ankles, holding the novel she was reading.

  It was their usual evening ritual. Because she hated how many hours he worked, they’d come to an agreement years ago that she could occupy herself in his study late at night while he dealt with emails. Deep down, it annoyed the fuck out of Wayne, but it kept his trophy wife happy, so he’d consented to the arrangement.

  He wasn’t in love with her. He didn’t think he’d ever been in love with her, or anyone for that matter, but she didn’t know that, and her presence in his life was good for his image. So, he’d kept up the pretense now for eight long years, tolerating her, fucking her, indulging her.

  He should be pleased. As far as wives went—from what he heard his friends bitching about—she was low maintenance. She kept her mouth shut when he needed her to, always appeared well groomed—both at home and in pubic—and rarely gave him any lip.

  Her brow furrowed as he stood and held up a finger, stepping out of the room for privacy. As the door snicked shut behi
nd him, he spoke again. “What is it?”

  “I looked into that guy you mentioned. You were right.”

  “Fuck.”

  “What do you want me to do, sir?”

  “Nothing. I’ll handle it.” He ended the call without another word and turned back to his study.

  Penelope looked up with a soft smile as he returned. She twirled a lock of hair around one finger, swinging her crossed leg and sipping her wine. “Everything okay, sweetheart?”

  Wayne cringed at the endearment as he nodded. Not even close. He took several long strides to reach his desk. “I have to go out for a while.”

  His wife pouted. “Now? It’s so late.”

  Wayne didn’t comment. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the corner of the desk and headed out of the room without a word. First he needed to visit the safe in his bedroom.

  Worrying about his wife’s chagrin was not on his radar.

  Chapter Three

  The sound of a baby’s first cry is one of the best sounds in the world. Instead of the stress everyone in the vicinity feels every other time the baby cries for the next several years, the parents and doctors all smile, their shoulders sagging with relief.

  As Rebecca held her daughter, the precious bundle wailing at the top of her lungs, her arms and legs flailing about, both her fathers leaned over to kiss the baby’s red, scrunched face.

  Melinda grinned hugely from the end of the bed.

  “McKenna,” Rebecca declared.

  “That’s beautiful.” Miles kissed his mate on her forehead.

  “Perfect.” Griffen cupped his mate’s cheek and kissed her lips. “She’s gorgeous. Like her mommy.”

  Melinda had tears of happiness in her eyes as she slipped from the room. The second she shut the door and leaned against the wall in the hallway, she entered another world.

  She’d managed to ignore the pull toward her mates for the last several hours. But it was time to face them, and her future.

  She knew they were both still in the house. She’d nearly willed them not to leave, though she doubted it was necessary. If they felt half the magnetic pull she felt, they wouldn’t be able to leave her behind.