A Cub For The Billion-were (Alpha Billion-weres Book 2)

by Georgette St. . Clair

  She looked at him. “I believe you. Partly because you’re so mad right now that your ears are pointy, your face is furry, and I can see claws coming out of your fingertips.” She bravely stood her ground, but her voice shook.

  He was scaring her.

  Grant groaned with effort and forced his beast back down.

  “And you never told me I had a son either. You should have.” It came out as a growl.

  “I’d never even met you.” Celeste looked at him in exasperation. “I knew nothing of you. She told me that you beat and terrorized her. And then threatened her into getting rid of Jeffrey. I thought she’d done it; I didn’t know Jeffrey existed. Then she suddenly went underground. There was something weird going on with her and the other guy she’d been dating, Boone. He called me up a few times looking for her, until I changed my number. She’d told me not to tell him that I’d heard from her. A few times she contacted me and asked me to send money to different P.O. boxes. That’s all the contact I’ve had with her for years.”

  “So she’s really…gone?”

  “I told you, fur-face, My sister is dead. She died in a car accident. The police contacted my employer and told them.”

  Grant raised an eyebrow. “Fur-face? That’s really the best you can come up with?”

  She sighed. “I’m not feeling inspired to hate you. You did come back here for Jeffrey.”

  Awkward silence.

  He cleared his throat, trying to come up with something witty to say. “So. Tell me about yourself.” Brilliant, Grant, just brilliant.

  “Well, up until a couple of weeks ago I worked for a security company, as a freelancer. I’m good at breaking in to places. Lived on the street for a couple of years after we ran away from our last group home.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I had to back out of a job at the last minute when I got the call about Jennifer, and so they fired me. It’s fine. I can always find another company.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Here and there. Motels. I travel a lot.”

  More awkward silence. Grant the suave lady-killer was suddenly tongue-tied.

  She looked at him. “You will take good care of Jeffrey. I’ll stay until he learns to trust you, and until we can get him to believe me that I’m his aunt, not his mother. I could… I could come visit. I mean, I’ve never kept in touch with anybody before, but for him, I would. You’d let me visit him.” That last statement was tentative, half a question.

  Grant felt a rush of emotion. “Of course. You’re his family. And you love him.”

  Tears flooded her eyes. “With all my heart. I wish I could be there for him. We just… I don’t do well with family, or friends, or… I just move on. All the time. It’s what I do.”

  “It’s what you did.” He looked down at her. “Out of necessity. And habit. Maybe it’s not necessary any more. You might do better than you thought at family. You’ve done great by my son.”

  My son. The words felt strange and wonderful in his mouth. All those years he’d run from commitment…and now, in an instant, he was ready to change his life for this little boy. To live his life for him.

  “That’s… I mean, yeah, anybody would love Jeffrey. He’s great.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. CPS wants to take him. We cannot let that happen. So what do we do next?”

  “Well, it depends. We need to work together. I know you’re not a grifter. And you understand that I would never have turned my back on my son if I’d known he existed?”

  It was somehow incredibly important to him that she didn’t think that about him.

  She nodded. “Yes. Although you’re weird as hell, Grant.” Then she gave him a wry, crooked smile that melted his heart. “But look who’s talking.”

  He grinned fiercely. “We’re in agreement. We call a truce. I throw an army of lawyers at CPS. We get married. And we play happy families until they go away.”

  “Married.” She stared at him in shock.

  “Yes. We werewolves call it being mated, but for human purposes, we’ll be married. You need to be Jennifer. We’ll figure out how to make that happen.”

  “We haven’t even touched on this werewolf thing.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be doing plenty of touching.” Holy hell, had he just said that out loud? “On the werewolf thing.”

  He walked her back to the room, and Jeffrey leaped from his bed and ran over to her, throwing his arms around her. “You came back!”

  “I told you I would. Did you read to Aunt Taylor?”

  “He sure did,” Taylor said admiringly. “He’s great at it.”

  Grant barely kept his temper in check.

  “You. We need to talk,” he growled at Cliff. “Outside.”

  Cliff scowled at his tone, but he, Mandy and Taylor walked out of the room. Remembering how good Jeffrey’s hearing was, Grant walked them into the parking lot before swinging around and shoving Cliff backwards. Cliff stumbled, then went furry for a brief moment.

  A car drove by, and he glanced at the car and quickly smoothed his skin out.

  “Grant! What the hell’s wrong with you?” Taylor said furiously. “If he shifts in public, we’re screwed!”

  “I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but don’t start something you can’t finish,” Cliff snarled at Grant.

  Grant advanced on him, lips curling back to reveal fangs. “You and Dad. Fucking manipulative control-freak bastards. You told Jennifer to get rid of my son before he was born. You kept that from me. And you kept my messages from me when Celeste tried to contact me. Get away from me now. Get away from me before I kill you. You think you’re stronger than me because you’ve beaten me in a fight? My rage is giving me power. I could destroy you right now. I’d like that.”

  Cliff’s claws curved from his fingertips, sharp like daggers. Taylor let out a snarl and her eyes went dark.

  “Easy,” Mandy said in a low tone. “I’ve got your back, Grant, but I’m not going to let you kill your brother. You’d hate yourself in the morning.”

  “You didn’t want me to find out what you and Dad did to keep me from getting tangled up with a dirty little grifter. So you tried to keep me from my own son.” The bones under Grant’s skin cracked and shifted. He knew he was going furry.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Cliff spat at him. “I didn’t do anything like that.”

  “Right. You’ve never manipulated our family for your own ends. You didn’t manipulate Dad into sending Austin off to military school. One less contender to be pack Alpha when Dad died.”

  “I did it to save his life!” Cliff snapped. “Dad was going to kill him! And…” He hesitated. “There’s more to it than that. I just can’t get into it.”

  “Of course you can’t. Save it,” Grant snarled at him, stalking off.

  “Grant! Your boy needs a pack! He needs family right now!” Taylor called after him.

  “I’ll find my own pack!” Grant yelled without looking back. “You come near us, and I will end you!”

  Chapter Six

  They were back in Somerville, the last place that Jennifer had dragged Jeffrey to, the town she’d died in. The early morning sun glowed red and orange behind the tips of the mountain range to their west. It was still a comfortable sixty degrees right now, a little cooler than other parts of Nevada because they were in the shadow of the mountains.

  Jeffrey and Celeste yawned and stretched as they climbed out of Grant’s helicopter. He held his hand out protectively to keep them safe from the spinning blades.

  Jeffrey looked up at Celeste, confused. “What is this place?”

  Grant had rented a house for them to stay in while they got things sorted out in court. Somerville was a small resort city, and there weren’t a lot of choices of places to rent. He’d wanted something impressive, something that screamed “I have a fuck-ton of money and I will drown you in it if you come near my family.”

  The house definitely delivered on that front.

  It was an eleven-
bedroom, fifteen-bathroom nouveau-riche monstrosity, an enormous Spanish-style mansion built by a multi-millionaire who’d gone bust and put the house on the market. Grant had paid three months’ rent, although he hoped they’d be done with the court case and out of there long before that.

  He winced as the sunlight glared off the enormous arched windows. The house was too orange, and it clashed with the red barrel-tile roof. The water bill for the enormous manicured lawn would have bankrupted the average homeowner, especially in a parched desert state like Nevada.

  “Be it ever so humble,” Grant said to Celeste as Mandy scrambled out of the helicopter carrying a pile of suitcases as effortlessly as if they were feather pillows.

  Grant reached over and grabbed one of them, and Celeste took hers. Mandy had agreed to come work for him as security, since he’d just turned his back on his entire pack. He’d have to hire new staff as soon as they got settled in.

  “Geez, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit all my stuff in here, but I’m willing to slum it for a week or two,” Celeste said.

  “I can have the rest of your stuff shipped here from your house in…” He trailed off. “Where is it again?”

  She gestured at her big, overstuffed suitcase. “This is my house. I call it Casa de Celeste.” He looked at her in disbelief. “Seriously,” she said. “I meant it when I said I lived in motels. Why pay rent when you’re travelling fifty-two weeks out of the year?”

  “Okay then. We’ve got a swimming pool here,” Grant said to Jeffrey. “And a bowling alley. And a movie room. And an elevator. Pretty cool, huh?”

  Jeffrey refused to meet his eyes. “It’s okay for now, until me and my mom move to our new place,” he said.

  Ouch.

  Celeste shot Jeffrey a look, but he hurried on ahead as they walked up to the two-story high front door.

  “Wow,” Celeste said with a laugh. “The designer of this house had some real self-esteem issues. I bet he drives a teeny red sports car and wears banana hammocks.”

  “I know. You’ll like our house in North Dakota much better. I mean, it’s not small and understated, but it’s more authentic. And less orange.” He scowled, then shook his head. “Wait. I’m sorry. It’s still new to me that I’ve left the pack. We’ll have to talk about where we’re going to settle once this court case is over with.”

  He’d said we, Celeste noted. Her heart flipped. They hadn’t really talked about the future, or anything other than getting the court case out of the way. She ruthlessly pushed the feeling back down. She needed him to understand that she couldn’t stay, but she couldn’t bring herself to push the issue. The thought of leaving Jeffrey behind brought a lump to her throat. But the fear of trying, and failing, to be part of a family yet again hurt just as badly.

  As the helicopter took off, they walked into an enormous entryway, with two spiral staircases leading to the second floor. The décor inside clashed with the Spanish theme of the house. It was all rococo and big, heavy, dark pieces with curly, heavily adorned flourishes.

  “Good knight,” Celeste said in astonishment.

  “It’s seven a.m. Are you feeling okay?” Mandy asked her. In answer, Celeste pointed to her left.

  “Is that a suit of armor?” Mandy gaped at the silvery medieval suit of armor standing in an alcove in the foyer. “Gahh! Stop looking at me, Lance-a-little! It’s freaking me out. I’m going to go find the wine cellar, before I challenge that thing to a duel.” And she set down the suitcases and hurried off.

  “I’m starving,” Jeffrey said to Grant. “Can you go order me a pizza from Greasy Gus?”

  “Greasy Gus?” Grant stared at him in dismay.

  Jeffrey fixed him with an icy glare. “Yes. Me and my mom love it. It’s our favorite.”

  “It’s true,” Celeste admitted. “Soggy pizza, bitter coffee…what’s not to love?” It was the familiarity of the chain, not the taste, that really drew her. They had them in every state, and when she and Jennifer were teenagers, it had been the only place they could afford to eat most of the time.

  “Is the stuff on the pizza actually cheese?” Grant wondered aloud.

  “For ninety-nine cents a slice? At least some of it’s probably cheese.” She looked at Jeffrey. “You know they’re not open this early, though. How about if we just eat there for lunch?”

  Grant tried to hide a grimace of distaste. He set his suitcase down. “Sure thing. I’ll go get you something to snack on right now. And how about tonight I cook dinner for us? I cook a mean steak. You like steak?”

  “Nope. Hate it.” Jeffrey turned his back on him, and Grant sighed and headed off for the kitchen.

  “Jeffrey,” Celeste said, with a note of warning in her voice.

  “Is he gone?” Jeffrey asked. “Okay, I heard the door close. This place is great.”

  “You like it?” she said in surprise.

  “Heck yeah. You can fill up your whole suitcase with stuff. Take the silverware – that’s the easiest to fence. We’re probably going to have to hotwire that car out front, unless you think you can get the keys out of Dad’s— I mean, out of Grant’s pocket.”

  Great. Project “Make Jeffrey Love Dad” was going really well.

  She pasted a smile on her face. “You plan ahead, and you take initiative,” Celeste said. “I like that about you. Let’s keep the silverware thing as our backup plan. However, we should stick around for at least a little while. Grant says he cooks a good steak, and I want to see if he’s telling the truth.”

  “What if he isn’t?” Jeffrey frowned. “What if dinner’s really bad?”

  Celeste shrugged. “We’ll order more pizza and know he’s a liar. But I don’t think he is. He hasn’t lied about anything yet. And one more thing.”

  “What?” he looked at her suspiciously.

  “I want you to be nicer to him.”

  “I’m not going to call him Dad,” he said fiercely, his hand tightening on hers.

  “I’m not asking that. Just don’t be mean. Don’t say mean things. It’s called the Golden Rule; treat people how you want to be treated. You wouldn’t like it if anybody said mean things to you, so don’t say mean things to other people. You don’t have to even like him, if you don’t want to, but be polite.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Jeffrey.” Her voice held a warning in it now.

  “Fine!” He stamped his foot.

  Mandy walked in, holding a bottle of wine in each hand. “Wine cellar is well-stocked, which almost makes up for how creepy this place is.”

  Celeste stifled a laugh. “Wine at seven a.m. Impressive. And you’re double-fisting it.”

  “Shifter metabolism,” Mandy said. “I’d have to drink about twenty of these to even get a mild buzz.”

  “Please don’t,” Celeste suggested. Then she turned her attention back to Jeffrey. “Now, let’s talk about trust. You need to know that Grant and I will not lie to you. I told you I’d come right back to the hotel room last night, and I did. Grant said he’s a good cook, and I believe he’s going to make us a delicious dinner tonight. You told me that you’re going to be nicer to Grant, and I believe you will. Now it’s Mandy’s turn. She told us she’s super-strong, and I believe her. Mandy’s going to watch you while I go talk to Grant for a few minutes, and maybe she can show you how strong she is. No, she can’t throw Grant out a window,” she added quickly.

  “Hmm,” Mandy frowned. “Technically, I could.”

  “I heard that!” Grant yelled, walking in to the room with a plate full of cold cuts.

  “Mandy!” Celeste said, exasperated. “Not helping!”

  “Fine, fine. I can pick up a car. Want to see?” she said to Jeffrey.

  Jeffrey cheered up considerably, and he took the plate of cold cuts from Grant. “I guess I don’t hate steak,” he said to Grant. He shoved a wad of roast beef into his mouth and followed Mandy out the front door.

  “Let’s go check out our bedroom,” Grant said to Celeste. “And then I’ll cook you
guys some breakfast and take you shopping.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” Celeste shook her head, trying to hide her smile. There was no way she was going to accept anything from him for herself. She’d been obligated to people before, and she knew where that led. Besides, stuff just tied you down. If she had books and music and closets full of pretty dresses, it would be that much harder when she had to leave.

  She’d let him shop for Jeffrey until his credit card whimpered, though. Her nephew deserved toys and games and candy and all the things her sister had been too messed-up or too selfish to give him. And besides, Grant’s obvious excitement was kind of cute.

  Cute? She shut that thought down. Hard.

  “Okay,” she said. “Lead the way.”

  Their bedroom was on the second floor.

  When they got there, Grant swept her up in his arms. She stifled a squeak of surprise, then realized the swooping sensation in her belly was arousal. Could he smell that she was turned on? Werewolves had super-senses, right? His arms were strong and muscular, his hands warm against her spine and the back of her thigh, and he smelled musky and good.

  At her look of surprise, he said, “What? I got our back-dated marriage certificate emailed to me this morning. We were married in Colorado two days ago, as far as anyone knows. So I’m carrying my wife across the threshold. Isn’t that how it’s done?”

  “Traditionally it’s the threshold of the house, not the bedroom, but hey, we’re not a traditional couple.” Or even a couple at all, she thought with a twinge.

  “Damn. Well, when we move in to our real house, I’ll do it again, the right way,” he said confidently. Then he strode into the enormous room.

  The furniture was all gilded, with ornate legs carved into curves and festooned with scalloped edges. The carpet was ankle-deep, the enormous four-poster bed piled high with overstuffed golden cushions. Every surface that wasn’t gold was mirrored. If magpies worked in interior design, this room would be the result.