Like a Wolf with a Bone

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Like a Wolf with a Bone Page 15

by Shelly Laurenston


  She started to run to the door, but one of her brothers caught her arm and held her back. “You just gonna run out there to him?”

  “Of course I am. It’s my . . .” Darla stopped talking and faced her male kin. “How do y’all know Eggie’s howl?”

  “Well,” her father admitted, “he’s been here a few nights now . . . howling for you.”

  “You told him I wasn’t home, though, right?” When her kin only stared at her . . . “You didn’t tell him?”

  “No need to bellow, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, Daddy!”

  “Don’t think he’s earned the right to know a damn thing,” her brother said. “Gotta make him work for it.”

  “Make him . . . ? He saved my life. He loves me. We’re mated.”

  “Eh.” Her father shrugged. “He could put in a little more effort.”

  “Daddy!”

  Darla snatched her arm away from her brother and sprinted to the front door. She snatched it open and ran outside. By the time she made it across the lawn, the wolf had shifted to Eggie and she threw herself into his arms.

  Hugging him tight, Darla whispered, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “Me, too.” He kissed her neck and held her close. “Me, too.”

  Darla leaned back a bit so she could look him in the face. “I didn’t know you were here, Eggie. I haven’t been at the house for days.”

  “I know.”

  Darla blinked. “You know?”

  “Yeah. I knew after the first hour I got here. Your scent had faded. Then when I went into town for breakfast the next day, my cousins told me you’d gone to San Francisco on a business trip.”

  “But then . . . why did you keep coming here every night? Daddy said you were here, but that he kept running you off.”

  “Yeah. He did.”

  “Eggie—”

  “It’s a male thing. I had to work for you. That’s all.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course. You don’t think if we have a daughter, I won’t do the same thing to the lowlife slug that tries to make her his mate?”

  “You don’t even know this boy yet and already he’s a lowlife slug?”

  “If he’s messin’ with my little girl.”

  “A little girl you don’t have yet.”

  “We will.” He started walking toward the house. “But later. Now you’ll introduce me to your daddy proper-like.”

  “Wait, Eggie.”

  He stopped. “Uh-huh?”

  “Suggestion. For first impressions with my daddy and all . . . may wanna put on pants.”

  “Oh.” They both looked down to see Eggie deliciously naked. “Guess you have a point.” He smiled and Darla grinned back. She kissed him, hugged him tight.

  “Come out with us,” she told him. “Daddy’s taking everyone to dinner.”

  “I don’t think he wants me going.”

  Darla snorted. “Daddy!” she called out, startling Eggie.

  “Yes, Darla?”

  “I’m going with Eggie to get his pants. Then we’re all going to dinner tonight. The whole family, so Momma can meet him, too.”

  “I didn’t invite him.”

  “Daddy!”

  “Oh, all right!” he snapped from still inside the house. “But hurry up. Ain’t got all night.”

  “See?” she told Eggie. “You can always get what you want. You just need to be nice about it.”

  “Is that what I’m missing? Just being nice?”

  “Darlin’,” she teased, “let’s not ask for the world.” She kissed him again, her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. “Now let’s go get your pants.”

  “Will I have to put them on right away?” he asked, gently nipping the tip of her nose.

  Darla gave the wolf she loved a wide smile. “Not if I have any say in it.”

  EPILOGUE

  More than thirty years later . . .

  Eggie came out of the woods and walked toward his house. He knew the car sitting in front of it and the tall, beautiful She-wolf leaning against the overpriced piece of Eurotrash vehicle. But Eggie didn’t mind too much because he knew it wasn’t a car she would buy. No. Not her. She still had that ’78 Camaro sitting in his barn that she used every time she came to town to visit.

  Too bad she wasn’t alone this time. She was with him. The boy.

  Eggie walked up to a nearby tree where he’d left his jeans, shifted to human and pulled the jeans on. Yet even before he’d done that, she’d sensed Eggie’s presence. He could tell. She had his sense of things. His skills. In fact, Eggie would say she was better at what she did than he’d been. Her skill had been inborn. Part of her DNA.

  The boy, however . . . was blissfully unaware of the danger lurking right behind him. Smooth and charming? Sure he was. But that was it as far as Eggie was concerned.

  Eggie stood behind the boy, wondering how long before he’d notice Eggie was there.

  About thirty seconds, it turned out.

  Slowly, the boy turned and faced him, eyes wide. A Van Holtz. On Eggie’s territory—with permission. The thought made him feel like sneering. So he did. At the boy.

  The boy swallowed at that sneer and took a step back. But the woman with him stepped around and threw herself into Eggie’s arms. “Daddy.”

  “Hey, Sugar Bug.”

  Eggie hugged his only daughter tight while he eyed the Van Holtz wolf standing on the other side of her.

  Dee-Ann pulled away from Eggie and looked at the boy, waiting for him to say something.

  Clearing his throat, the boy stepped forward, held out his hand. “Mr. Smith. It’s good to see you again.”

  Eggie looked down at that hand and then, slowly, looked back at the boy. He saw the color drain from his already pale face. Yankee who never saw the sun was the problem there.

  A squeal from the porch and Darla Mae came rushing down. She’d filled out a bit over the years, but it worked for her. Gave Eggie even more to love—although she claimed she hated when he said that.

  Arms wide, Darla reached up and hugged their daughter. She favored her mother in the face, but she had Eggie’s eyes. Whether wolf or human, her eyes were cold and yellow and deadly. Sometimes, when she’d come to visit, the two of them would go to the mall, get a couple of chocolate shakes, sit around, and just stare at people. Taking bets on who they could get to piss their pants with nothing more than a look. It was something they’d been doing since his little girl was about five or so. It was also something they never told her momma about.

  “Oh, my baby girl,” Darla cheered. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

  “Me, too, Momma. You all right?”

  “I’m just fine, Sugar Bug. Even better now that you’re home.” She stepped back and Darla, as always when first seeing her daughter, had to wipe tears away.

  “Momma, don’t cry.”

  “I’ll cry if I want to, Dee-Ann Smith.” She lightly tapped Dee-Ann aside and smiled at the boy.

  “Ulrich Van Holtz.” Darla threw her arms open. “Come on over here, darlin’ boy.”

  Smiling—probably because he was relieved—the boy willingly went to Darla and hugged her.

  Eggie’s eyes narrowed and he started to bare his fangs. But he stopped when Dee-Ann’s elbow tapped his ribs.

  “Daddy.” And she sounded just like her momma when she said it that way.

  Darla finally pulled away from what Eggie still considered an enemy wolf and smiled happily at the pair. “I’m so glad you’re both here.”

  “Sorry we’re late, Miss Darla,” the boy said. “We stopped by the store to pick up a few things.”

  “Ulrich Van Holtz, are you going to make me one of your fancy dinners?”

  “I sure am. Especially if you make me that pecan pie of yours.”

  “Already baking in the oven.” She motioned to the house. “You go in there and get comfortable. Your room is all ready, so if you want to rest first—”

  “Oh, no,
ma’am. I’m ready to cook.”

  “Great. Then get going.”

  The boy turned to grab the bags out of the backseat of the car but he stopped and stared at Eggie since Eggie was standing in front of the door.

  “Uh . . . excuse me, sir.”

  Eggie stared a little longer, just a few seconds, before he stepped out of the way. The boy grabbed several bags and Dee-Ann grabbed the last two. Before she stepped away, she kissed her father on the cheek.

  “Lord, I missed you, Daddy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You never fail to entertain.”

  Eggie winked at his little girl—all six feet and two inches of her—and watched her and that worthless Van Holtz head into their house. Tomorrow Eggie would go hunting with his little girl. They’d spend the day roaming the hills of the town he loved while Darla entertained the boy with food shopping and visiting with the rest of the Lewis sisters at the pie shop.

  Once the young pair were inside the house, Darla slapped his arm. “I thought I told you to be nice to him!”

  “I didn’t shoot at him this time.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Thought that was an accident.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

  Darla rolled her eyes and started to walk away, but Eggie pulled her back. “Mange.”

  She gasped and whispered, “That boy does not have mange! Stop saying that.”

  “Distemper, then. He’s got that Van Holtz Distemper Strain. CDT.”

  “Egbert Ray Smith, the only temper you need to worry about right now is mine.”

  “You gettin’ cranky, Darla Mae?”

  “Egbert Ray.”

  He walked her back until he had her pinned against the car, and he kept her there by putting his arms on either side of her. “You’re not really mad at me, are you, Darla Mae?”

  “Furious.”

  “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you then.”

  “Not here you won’t!” she giggled, putting her hands on his chest and trying to push him back. Although she wasn’t trying very hard. “Just stop picking on poor Ulrich.”

  “He’s with my Sugar Bug—”

  “Ridiculous nickname.” That she used just as much as Eggie.

  “—and I can’t let him off easy.”

  “But he likes you so much.”

  “Darla Mae.”

  “All right. I think he wants to like you, but you make it impossible.”

  “Not sure he’s right for my little girl is all.”

  Darla pressed her hand against Eggie’s cheek. “Trust me when I say . . . there is no wolf on this planet more perfect for your daughter. At least not one that can actually shift to human.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll keep the snarling to a minimum this time. But not the glaring.”

  She sighed. “Fine.”

  “Now kiss me and tell me you love me.”

  “Who says I do?”

  “You did . . . last night.”

  She blushed, her grin wide, probably remembering how he’d woken her up in the middle of the night with kisses and nuzzles. “Egbert Ray Smith, stop it.”

  “Stop what? Loving you? ’Cause that ain’t never gonna happen, Darla Mae.”

  “I know, Eggie,” she said, her pretty eyes warm and, as always with him, welcoming. And damn it all, she still had those dimples, too. “That’s what makes everything perfect for me. Always has. Now come on.” She took his hand, led him toward the house. “Let’s go see our beautiful baby girl and her mate.”

  Don’t miss Shelly Laurenston’s brand-new Honey Badgers series, launching this with the unforgettable Hot and Badgered, available now!

  It’s not every day that a beautiful naked woman falls out of the sky and lands face-first on grizzly shifter Berg Dunn’s hotel balcony. Definitely they don’t usually hop up and demand his best gun. Berg gives the lady a grizzly-sized T-shirt and his cell phone, too, just on style points. And then she’s gone, taking his XXXL heart with her. By the time he figures out she’s a honey badger shifter, it’s too late.

  Honey badgers are survivors. Brutal, vicious, ill-tempered survivors. Or maybe Charlie Taylor-MacKilligan is just pissed that her useless father is trying to get them all killed again, and won’t even tell her why. Protecting her little sisters has always been her job, and she’s not about to let some pesky giant grizzly protection specialist with a network of every shifter in Manhattan get in her way. Wait. He’s trying to help? Why would he want to do that? He’s cute enough that she just might let him tag along—that is, if he can keep up …

 

 

 


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