by L E Franks
“No? What kind is it, then?” Carlo was puzzled. Like all shifters he had a ridiculously good nose, even as a man.
“No. You may not have a pie.”
Carlo tried to look horrified at the suggestion, but Ted’s cocked brow and smirk had him laughing.
“Fine. No pie for the fuckin’ birthday boy. I suppose now you’re going to make me work.”
Joey looked at him for half a second before throwing him a box of matches. “Someone’s gotta smoke all this meat…” Carlo nodded and jumped in to help, ignoring the number of people Joey said he’d invited. He didn’t want to think about his friends or how they’d react to his being gone for so long. Maybe, just maybe they’d forgiven him and everything would go off without a hitch.
CHAPTER TEN
“Carlo!” The woman was tiny… though there was no escaping the intensity of those chocolate brown eyes. He’d know Charles’ daughter, Jeanette, anywhere. What wasn’t familiar were the twin girls snuggled on her hips—they looked like they were maybe two, green eyes and a riot of red curls marked them as belonging to Carmine. He looked around for the red wolf and caught a peek of him on the patio, working his way to the keg.
“Jeanette! As beautiful as the last time I saw you… who are these lovely ladies?” Carlo purred into the ear of the closest girl, who shrieked with laughter, lunging into his arms. He swung her up and over his head before settling her on his shoulders.
“That’s Meegan, she’s the wiggling one, and this one… is Daddy’s angel—Cara.” Jeanette handed her over. Carlo lifted Cara into the air carefully, letting Meegan clutch his hair, holding on for dear life. Within thirty seconds Carmine was at their side, careful to maintain a respectful distance and attitude yet clearly fretting over his daughters. Carlo snorted.
“Don’t blame you Carmine—if I had these beauties in my pack, I’d never leave them to the mercies of a mangy old wolf!” He handed Cara over to the man, amused at how relieved he looked. He leaned his head back to look into Meegan’s eyes. Meegan, deciding that was a great idea, did the opposite until they were eye to eye—lashes tangling in each other. Jeanette laughed and there was a flash somewhere off to the left as she snapped a picture.
“I believe you have a new fan, Carlo.” Carmine chuckled. “Now that you’ve caught her interest, you’ll have a hard time shakin’ her. I had the same problem with my Jeanette. Finally had to marry her to get any peace. Come ta think on it, I’m still waiting for that!” The elbow Jeanette threw was apparently just as sharp as it was in school. Carmine sucked in a breath and bent at the waist as he held onto his daughter.
Jeanette was a few years older than Carlo, but as the daughter of the Pack Beta, they spent a lot of time together. Carmine was still wincing when Jeanette pulled Meegan off Carlo’s shoulders, handing her over to Carmine.
“Car, take the girls and find them something to drink that won’t have you sleeping in the garage for a month!” She kissed the girls’ fingers and turned, surveying the room. Carlo smirked, remembering Jeanette the organizer in action.
“Jo-ey!” she shouted over the music, waving to catch the man’s attention. “Get your butt over here!” Carlo smirked, watching his pack mate roll his eyes and lurch to his feet, juggling a sloshing cup of pale ale. Jeanette waved him close and gave him a big hug. “Long time, cub—when are you going to show up for that babysitting duty you promised me when the twin terrors were born?”
Joey laughed, hugging her back. “Sorry Jeanie, that was a one-time offer, expiring the one time I was around and they needed changing. Though… that Meegan looks like she’ll be hella-fun when she learns how to shift. Poor Carmine! Can’t-fuckin’-wait!”
Rolling her eyes she handed Joey the keys to their Land Rover. “Be a love would you? Can you bring in the box from the back? Can’t miss it. We’ll just be in here catching up,” waving her hand indicating the general vicinity of the kitchen. Carlo found himself pulled further into the room. Fuck, Jeanette could still manhandle him like nobody’s business. He found himself wedged in a corner, Jeanette standing before him, in a warrior’s pose—her weight balanced on her toes, arms folded across her chest. Damn, she was scary when she wanted to be.
“You have something to say to me, Jeanie?” If Carlo was hoping his use of her hated childhood nickname was intimidating, he was disappointed. She flicked imaginary dust off her sleeve before leveling him with her laser stare.
“What. The. Fuck. Carlo? You’re home almost a month and you don’t come see me? I can understand with most of these dumb mutts, but me? You haven’t even come to see the girls yet. Where the hell do you get off treating me this way?” Every word was punctuated with a sharp jab to his sternum. Damn, every part of the woman was sharp and pointy. Carlo rubbed his chest absently as he tried and failed to stare her down.
“You’re here now, I can’t change the past—”
Jeanette flinched, her face clouding over. “Oh, tell me you’re not still whining about how rough you had it, how no one loves you, that you were thrown away… Oh. My. God! You ARE! Holy shit, Carlo! You really are!” Jeanette swiveled her head frantically as if looking for something that would help her make sense of the man.
“Jeanie —wait.” Carlo held his hands up to placate her.
“Is that why you ditched me? Me???” Pacing back and forth, she continued without looking at him, as if to herself. “No Christmas, no summers… no wedding…. You FUCK!” She whirled back and smacked him on the side of the head. Carlo jerked away but was now firmly wedged in the corner of the kitchen, white marble counter cold on his back.
“You didn’t come back for Dad’s retirement! You missed the twin’s christening! You… you…! Oh!” Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and Carlo grabbed her close.
“Ah, Jeanie—I didn’t stay away from you, shhhhh…. I promise sweetie, I would never do that to yo—”
“You DID. You did EXACTLY that!” Her fury would be a thing to behold if it was directed at someone else… as it was… shit, Carlo was screwed if Carmine came looking for his wife.
“You think you aren’t important Carlo Montefiore? You think one Alpha is just as good as another? You FUCK!” The last was wailed, followed by a flood of tears. Carlo’s heart clenched.
“Shhh! Jeanette—if Carmine hears you, he’s gonna kick my ass first, ask questions later, then he’ll kick it all over again. And that fuckin’ mouth, sheesh—you’re a mother, are you still allowed to talk like a trucker?”
Jeanette wiped tears out of the corner of her eyes, trying not to laugh through hiccupping sobs. “Asshole!”
“Well, yeah. Some things don’t change, like the fact that you’re still a drama queen control freak and I’m an insensitive ass. It keeps the Earth spinning and the seasons changing.” Carlo pulled her back into his arms, pressing a kiss into the top of her head.
She looked up into his eyes. “I missed you. I really needed my best friend with me, Carlo. You stole that from me. Where were you when I was freaking out the night before my wedding? I called you, you prick! You never called me back. What the hell? Where were you when I needed ice cream runs at two in the morning when I was pregnant with the terrors? What kind of a friend does that—just disappears the second there’s a little bump in the road?”
Carlo saw red. “A bump in the fucking road? Really Jeanette?” At least she had the grace to look a little ashamed before returning fire, using both barrels.
“Yes! A fucking bump in the road! You went to COLLEGE asshole, not a fuckin’ gulag. Your head is so far up your ass you’re about to see daylight again! It’s time you grow up Carlo Montefiore! I’ve been your friend since practically the minute you were born. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TREAT YOUR OLDEST FRIEND LIKE THIS!”
Her face was bright red, the shine in her eyes was fury and the color had shifted to a caramel color indicating her wolf rising. Fuck. Furious Jeanette was scary, furious wolfy Jeanette would get him dead. Or worse.
“Hey Babe, calm down okay? The girl
s are freaking out a bit, just a little—” Carmine had slipped silently into the kitchen wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back into him and away from Carlo. Carlo took the opportunity to move into the middle of the kitchen closer to an exit as Carmine reassured Jeanette. He could already hear the little girls shrieking with laughter from the other room.
It sounded like Joey was on kid patrol, which to him always meant a good game of chase, and occasionally catch. Joey had been the top of every pack member’s babysitting list from the time he was a freshman in high school. It never ceased to amaze Carlo that so many people were willing to entrust their children to a teen who was almost as much of a kid as the children he babysat. Maybe that’s why it worked. Joey could read the mind of a devious child, being one himself, heading off trouble before it started, and the kids basking in the glow of his attention, would follow him to the ends of the earth. It was good he used his gift for good, not evil. Carlo couldn’t imagine the trouble they’d be in if Joey decided to form his own army of miniature wolf warriors. Carlo shuddered and turned his attention back to the man glowering at him from across the room.
“Carlo, you weren’t here. That’s the problem; you weren’t here for any of us, least of all Angelo and especially Jen. When you went to California and severed all ties to the pack leadership, well… you cut us all out too. We came out to see you about a month after school started—do you remember? Jen was frantic—you’d cancelled your cell, changed your email accounts… shit! If that’s teenage rebellion, I’m a dead man walking with my two. Crap! Anyway, we finally tracked you down and you spent like five minutes with Jen before you got a call and booked. That was it. No explanation, no apology. Just… gone. I was the one there to pick up the pieces. Jen was devastated, not just because you blew her off—but you were like, a hollow man. You’d cut yourself from everyone who loved you and you couldn’t see that we were there for you. Man, you have no idea many times I found Jen crying over you, worrying about you. Fuck.” Carmine tightened his jaw, though his arms remained carefully wrapped around his tiny wife.
Carlo found he couldn’t look away from the direct gaze. His wolf shifted uneasily inside him, it wasn’t exactly a challenge but it was definitely threatening. Carmine wasn’t as large as Carlo, but he was solid. His green eyes darkened as he gazed unblinkingly into Carlo’s own.
“I don’t care who you are, or what you do. But if you hurt my family ever again, I. Will. Gut. You.” The last said with a grin and a promise that sent a shiver up Carlo’s spine. Carmine kissed his wife on the head once more before leaving as silently as he’d come.
“Holy Fuck!” Carlo breathed out.
Jeanette was smirking. “He’s a stud in bed, too! You missed out on something there, Montefiore.”
“Yeah, well—not sure I’m man enough for that wolf…” Carlo shuddered at the thought, “…still waters, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, until the category five rapids hit, that is. You got a little taste of that my friend, so don’t fuck with me.”
Carlo couldn’t help but agree, happy that Jeanette was all smiles now. He would hate to be on the wrong side of Carmine and he damn sure would never want to be the one between him and his girls.
“Okay, so we have the bitch-slapping out of the way… you ASSHOLE—” she punched him hard on the arm for effect, “so now you will explain to me why you are still hiding out here in this lovely home at the beach…. Oh, never mind. I’m moving in, leaving Carmine with the kids—going to live on gorgeous sunrises over the ocean and picnics on the beach. No one will ever find me again!”
“Yeah, hate to break it to you, but no matter how Greta Garbo you get, you’re never alone at the beach. I should have moved into the cabin. Nobody would notice me out there.”
“Hah! There you’d be wrong. Angelo fixed it up a couple of years ago.” Jeanette must have seen something on his face. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist! He uses it to think, sometimes sleeps out there. I don’t think he likes working out of the house much. If you were here, you’d have a say in things, as it is you don’t. You can’t have it both ways!”
“Whatever. Fine. Fine!” They were both saved from Carlo’s pathetic attempts at self-defense by Joey’s arrival with a large pink bakery box.
“Chocolate?” Carlo asked hopefully.
“Chocolate,” confirmed Jeanette. “I need a drink before I resume kicking your ass, this will probably take days. I need to pace myself.” Carlo grimaced as she left him with Joey.
“Are you missing pieces?” Joey was busy trying to work his way into the box without breaking the tape so he missed the glare Carlo sent his way.
“I guess I can expect more of the same,” Carlo mumbled.
“Mmhmmm,” Joey agreed, working a tab out of its slot.
“I suppose I should start the barbeque.”
“Yah, ummm.” Joey was now prying the corner of the box away from the cake, making enough room to slip a finger through.
“I suppose it’s time to rent out your room and send you to work on a Montana goat farm,” Carlo teased.
“Mmm ‘kay.” Joey absently stuck two fingers coated in chocolate icing into his mouth, humming in delight.
Shaking his head Carlo escaped the kitchen. The beach house had filled while Jeanette had taken him apart in the kitchen. He gazed over the crowd, surprised at how many there were. He recognized most of them, wolfy friends from high school or pack members under him during his stint as Alpha. The age spread was broad and he wondered how he’d let Joey talk him into having a party. He didn’t want this much attention. Jeanette had been right, he had cut himself off and he preferred it that way because keeping in touch with these people hurt.
He was pulled from group to group being introduced to the occasional baby, girlfriend, boyfriend or other. He’d been kissed and hugged and yelled at. Constantly. It was always the same. They’d missed him, they needed him, Angelo needed him, it was good to have the Montefiore heir back home, and when was he going to move back into his old rooms at the Pack House?
Wolves in general are very tactile creatures, shifters—even worse. Any inherited instincts from their wolf became more pronounced in their human form. So along with the words of encouragement or chastisement came the physical clinging as every pack member was compelled to reclaim a scent connection to The Alpha. And even though he kept saying he wasn’t the Alpha, his denials didn’t stop them from using the title. It was exhausting. At one point Carlo counted twenty-five adults and a handful of children. They all pinched, nuzzled, squeezed, hugged and grabbed. His body felt battered by the time he made it around the room.
Joey or Ted had cranked the tunes, a little Swedish House Mafia rattling the windows, chasing everyone out onto the patio where the barbeques were cranking out steaks and hot dogs; the smoker had been fired up very early in the morning and was now perfuming the air. They’d opted for pork butt and baby back ribs, but they also had a hundred and twenty quart stockpot rocking a shellfish boil on a propane burner. Jeanette had taken over the boil—famous for her liberal hand with the Old Bay seasoning. Carmine still hovered close by, holding her beer for her as she fiddled with the temperature both in and under the pot. The twins were being cared for by various pack members who treated them like the princesses they were.
Looking around, Carlo realized that what he’d assumed was a disorganized mass of wolves, was in fact a beautiful dance—a ritual that had been performed and perfected between them over an infinite number of evenings just like this one. It looked like a silent whistle had sounded—five of the women suddenly plowed through the crowd heading back inside, men moved through the back gate shouting for children and within the space of a minute the tables were covered by heaping bowls containing all the salads and sides a hungry wolf could dream of. Apparently this pack knew how to feed itself.
Carlo felt a little chagrined at the paltry meal of meat, chips, and beer the three of them had planned for their guests. Jeanette must have read his mind
because she paused next to him, patting his shoulder.
“Oh Carlo, when was the last time you had a party with a pack? You look like you’ve never been to one of these before! Everyone learns at their mama’s knee to bring plenty of food and even more beer.” She pointed to the new stack of cases sitting next to the iced tubs.
“Hmm, must be the problem,” Carlo quirked at her. “I haven’t had the benefit of either the knee or the meal in a very long time.”
She frowned. “What about the Porters of the Malibu Creek Pack? I thought that’s why you went to school out west? I know the Montefiore’s have roots there and your mama’s people come from there. I think I remember Dad telling someone that Con met your mama at school out there.” She brightened after a moment, and then her smile waned. “Never mind Carlo, you’re home now. We’ll train you right up so you’ll make some gal the perfect mate!” She laughed in his face at his expression. Fuck! So it begins.
Before he had a chance to bolt out the side gate, Ted was grabbing him, pulling him over to Joey standing on a picnic bench, waving his hands to quiet the crowd. It took a sharp whistle from somewhere in the back that sent a shiver down Carlo’s spine. Only Sebastian could produce the equivalent of an ice pick in the ear with just his lips and tongue; wherever the pack enforcer was, the Alpha wouldn’t be far away. He glanced around, seeing if he could spot Sebastian, or worse, Angelo. Dammit. There they are. Fuck. Me.