His Mate -Seniors - Book Three (His Mate - Seniors 3)

by M. L. Briers

  “You want something to eat?” Randy asked and watched a frown etch onto his mate’s face.

  “No…”

  “Something to drink?” he rushed out.

  “No…”

  “Me?” he hit her up for a smile, but she twisted her head on her neck and stared up at him with a blank expression.

  “Is that a trick question?” she offered back, deadpan.

  “I don’t think so,” Randy rolled his eyes up towards the roof and considered it.

  “You’re not exactly…what I pictured in a mate,” she said, and he snapped his eyes back down to her.

  “No?” He frowned.

  “No.” She gave a small shake of her head.

  “Too tall?”

  “Meh.” She shrugged.

  “Too…athletic?” He gave her a cocky grin.

  “I see a little sagging in places, and you’d give a pot-bellied pig a run for its money…” she lied.

  “In a good way, right?” He flashed her his best, killer smile.

  “You’re full of it,” she snorted a chuckle.

  “Yeah, well … I probably am,” he said, strolling towards her and motioning to the seat beside her. She nodded, and he sat down. “But, I guess that comes with years of not having a mate to keep me in line.”

  “That’s true.” She smiled.

  “How about you?”

  “How about me?”

  “How long were you married?” he asked, and his wolf grumbled a long growl within him.

  He didn’t much care for the thought of her with another man, but they’d both lived long lives, and he couldn’t blame her for fate’s late introduction.

  “I wasn’t,” Pamela raised her eyebrows. “I had Summer’s mother when I was young, and fortunately, Rupert didn’t stay around much longer than it took for the pregnancy test to deliver the happy news.”

  “Ouch,” he flinched.

  Inside he was in two minds about getting right up, hunting the man down, and beating him to a pulp for leaving her in the lurch like that. Family was family – it didn’t matter if they were planned or not – you still did the right thing by them.

  “Yeah, not so much.” She shrugged again.

  “His name was Rupert?” He raised only his left eyebrow.

  “Your name’s Randy…” she chuckled.

  “Yeah, ok, I concede that point,” he grumbled. “But the man’s still a…”

  “Better placed than I was to know that he wasn’t going to make a good father.”

  “I wished I’d known you back then.”

  Randy knew for sure that he would have made a damn good dad. They could even have had pups of their own. But that wasn’t to be, and he had the here and now with her, and the rest of their lives to look forward to.

  He could still get the chance to be a good stepdad and grandfather if she let him.

  “No, trust me. Fate was probably right on the timing,” she said.

  “How’s that?”

  “I’ve mellowed.”

  “Haven’t we all,” he chuckled.

  “Now all you have to do is grow up, and everything will be peachy,” she teased.

  “Being a grown up is overrated,” he teased her right back.

  “Then, maybe I should revert to my Wildcat ways and zap you at every opportunity,” she offered him the kind of smile that made his stomach flip and snagged his full and undivided attention on her.

  “I might like that…”

  “You wanna give it a try, now?”

  “Not right now,” he chuckled back. “We’re still in the getting to know you phase of things.”

  “Are you the kind of person that I want to know?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s give it a bash and see what happens. If it’s not a total car crash, then we should mate at the earliest opportunity.”

  Pamela’s head went backward on her neck, and she roared with laughter. He liked the sound of that – a lot.

  He figured that the wooing thing wasn’t so hard after all. Or maybe he was just going to have to wait for the other shoe to drop.

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “Summer, hold up,” Samuel called after her, even though he had almost caught up to her, he didn’t want to be surprised by his presence. “You can’t go off alone.”

  “Yes, I can. You just need to walk in the opposite direction.” She stopped just under a large oak tree and was grateful that the sun couldn’t get through the thickness of the foliage on the branches.

  “There could be a rogue out there.” Samuel offered her the explanation, and she pouted as she considered it.

  “Well, maybe if I sit on him with my heifer butt…”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you fat. I think you’re curvy in all the places that a woman should be, and I like it,” Samuel ducked his face in front of hers and caught her eyes as she looked anywhere but at him. “I like it a lot.”

  “Fine,” she shrugged.

  “I just meant that I thought a female flying off the roof would be heavier to catch, is all…”

  “Ok, I get it,” she said and held her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry I jumped the gun and accused you.”

  “And?” Samuel wanted more.

  “I’m sorry I left by the window,” she said. “But, I wasn’t running off!”

  “Well, ok then. So we’re good?”

  “No, we’re not good. I still have a growly mate, and you still have a witch!” She tossed up a hand in frustration. “Don’t you feel like this is all being thrust upon you?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ~

  “Sure,” Samuel nodded.

  “Don’t you feel like it’s a little too much, too soon?” She demanded.

  “Yep,” Samuel agreed and watched her scowl at him.

  “Then…?” She sighed.

  “We don’t have to rush anything, Summer,” he offered. “We know what fate says and we know that we’re right for each other, even if it might not feel like it right now.”

  “Big time wrong,” she said on a small shake of her head. “And I just got a new sofa, and I have great neighbors…”

  “And you don’t want to live in the middle of nowhere with elders…?” Samuel chuckled. “I get it. I might be pack, and used to all of this, but I still understand.”

  “But, I also don’t want to walk out on what could be … no, what is the best part of my life that I didn’t want, or ask for – yet,” Summer sighed again.

  Her grandmother was right, damn it! She had to wonder if that was what annoyed her the most.

  “I get that too,” Samuel offered back.

  “And you’re still naked and showing off all your dangly bits,” she looked anywhere but at him, because she found that he was temptation personified.

  “Not so much dangly when I’m around you. But, it’s only fair, right? I’ve seen you naked once, nearly naked once, and what’s good for the goose,” he shrugged those broad shoulders and loved every second of it when she couldn’t help but smile.

  “So, now I’m a goose – is that a jibe at chattering?” Summer eyed him for a long moment and watched a frown stalk onto his forehead.

  “No…I…”

  “Ha! Gotcha,” she chuckled.

  “Everyone’s a comedian,” he grumbled.

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “Ok, you don’t have to listen anymore,” Angela grinned at her mate.

  She’d had Lark relaying everything that had been said between Summer and Samuel, and he’d delivered each word with his grumpiest tone.

  “Good, eavesdropping is wrong,” Lark grumbled on a frown of discontent with the whole thing.

  “It’s only wrong when you get caught doing it,” Angela assured him. “Everything else is subjective.”

  “Stop using big words to flower up the fact that you’re nosy,” Lark berated her.

  Angela chuckled to herself as she turned on her heels and ran st
raight into Chloe.

  “Stealthy, right?” Chloe grinned as the witch checked herself.

  Angela could have zapped her for the fun of it and claimed shock, but she had chosen to be the bigger person, especially as Chloe seemed to be settling into her vampire life of late, and hadn’t actually sucked anyone dry yet.

  “This is why you don’t get invited to tea more often,” Angela berated her.

  “I thought it was because the mean witches didn’t like to share,” Chloe babied her, and then considered her actions as Angela tossed her hands up onto her hips, a sure sign that the woman was done playing.

  “Don’t you have squirrels to chase, or a blood bag to suck?” Angela grumbled.

  “Why yes, thank you. You’re a bag, and I am thirsty,” Chloe offered back, and for that – she did get zapped. Not to mention growled at.

  “Play nice, ladies,” Lark’s deep, disapproving tone echoed all around them.

  “Don’t want to,” Chloe said, tossing up just one shoulder and internally shaking off the witch’s magic from her body.

  “Then go be gone,” Angela said, craning her head forward on her neck towards the vampire and not taking a second to blink.

  “You know if the wind changes you’ll stay like that…” Chloe offered, and then she frowned. “What is it that they call it now? Resting bitch face,” Chloe grinned and showed just a little of her fangs.

  “Put those fangs away before I knock them down your throat,” Angela hissed, and she felt Lark at her side a heartbeat later.

  “Oh no, that is your normal face…” Chloe offered nothing more than a smirk before she turned on her heels, and found Dorothy waiting for her up on the porch. The elder’s arms were folded, and she was scowling down at the vampire. “Oh look, dessert.”

  “Aren’t you old enough to know better?” Dorothy gave a small, slow shake of her head in dismay.

  “You think I should go with dessert first?” Chloe asked.

  “I think you should just go.”

  “What’s that smell…?” Chloe sniffed the air as if she was looking for lunch. “It’s an elder.” She lifted her hand and motioned towards Dorothy. “Death is stalking you.”

  “Says the vampire,” Angela tossed back.

  “At least we won’t be giving up our magic when we die,” Dorothy teased the woman with the one thing that she knew she still missed about being human. She saw Chloe’s top lip twitch with annoyance at the same moment that Sarah strolled out onto the porch.

  “Chloe…” Sarah sounded slightly exasperated to see her aunt at loggerheads with the seniors once more.

  “I know – I know – don’t play with my food,” Chloe offered back.

  “Don’t you have Monty to torture?” Sarah asked.

  “He said to guard the poor helpless, defenseless witches, so here I am, stuck with you three,” she announced to the sound of a low, deep growl from Lark.

  “I can protect…” Lark started.

  “A paper bag, got it,” Chloe offered back with a wide, teasing grin, and the man grumbled another growl.

  “You play nice or go home,” Lark growled.

  “I doubt you could even chase your tail anymore, Lark, so don’t growl at me,” Chloe shot back, scowling.

  “Ok, that’s enough socializing for you for one day,” Monty announced as he swooped in and wrapped an arm around his mate’s waist.

  “They’re being mean,” Chloe pouted.

  “Someone’s hungry…” Monty said in a teasing voice.

  “And they won’t share…” Chloe offered back.

  “What say I take you home and … share,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she perked right up.

  “Then can we hunt the rogue, together?” She gave him a pleading look, and Monty rolled his eyes in his head.

  “Then… we’ll see what comes next,” Monty offered back.

  “Maybe you should schedule regular feeding times, like a baby…” Dorothy offered, and Chloe snapped a glare at the witch. She went to take a step towards her, but Monty had her locked at his side.

  “What am I, a zoo animal?” Chloe hissed back. She had a good mind to zap the witch – if only she still had her magic.

  “More Carnival,” Angela snorted a chuckle.

  “Can we not tease the blood hungry vampire?” Monty practically begged.

  He’d just covered every inch of land, at the Inn and pack, and he didn’t need his mate going off on one of her; chase me, endeavors again.

  “She is trying,” Sarah was the first to blink and stand down.

  “Very trying,” Angela muttered, and then she sighed. “Fine.”

  “I had a pot of tea on,” Dorothy said, and then promptly turned on her heels and walked back towards the house.

  “There, they’ve backed off; now you do the same…” Monty muttered against his mate’s ear.

  “Don’t want to,” Chloe grumbled.

  “They invited you for tea earlier.” He reminded her and felt every inch of her body stiffen as she considered it.

  “Well… fine,” she bit out. “But, I’m still hungry.”

  “What’s going on here?” Pamela asked as she eyed what looked like a standoff.

  “Same old – same old,” Chloe said, eyeing Angela for a long moment.

  “Says the old witch,” Angela offered back to a snort of contempt from Chloe.

  “Not anymore.” Chloe grinned. “I’m free of all the hocus pocus. Look in the mirror ladies; the clock is ticking.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ~

  Randy eyed his mate as she sat on one of the garden recliners and looked out over the garden that was in full bloom. She’d been ticking over something in her mind for a while, and it had all started with Chloe’s words about the clock ticking.

  He had to hope that she wasn’t considering going down the vampire route like her new friend had. Chloe had done it for love, to stay with her mate Monty, and if that were to be what she wanted then he’d be as supportive as a mate should be, but he knew that he wouldn’t be happy about it.

  “Would you ever consider becoming a vampire?” Randy asked, and got a sideways look of surprise from his mate.

  “Would you?”

  “Me? No, why me? I’m a wolf…”

  “And I’m a witch,” she snorted back. “What makes you think I’d consider vampirism?”

  “Life, or the end of it,” Randy tossed back. “Second chances.”

  “I don’t need youth for second chances to come along. I certainly don’t need a blood fetish, and I kind of like getting to an age where – I just really don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.” She watched him nod in agreement. “I don’t need to live forever. I just need to live for now.”

  Randy couldn’t contain the wolfish grin that took his face. He was more than glad to hear what she thought, and he was more than happy to jump aboard that train.

  “With me,” he said, and saw her brow crinkle just a little.

  “I suppose there could be worse fates,” she teased him, but the thought of what came next did play on her nerves just a little.

  She’d said that she didn’t much care what anyone else thought of her, but that wasn’t exactly true. When faced with the prospect of getting naked with a silver wolf like Randy – she did kind of wonder about the parts of her that were slipping downwards, a little more every year.

  It wasn’t as if she was in her prime and was ready to tear off her clothes at the drop of a hat. Lights off had always been a thing for her, and she knew that her mate could see perfectly well in the dark.

  It wasn’t like she was going to go rush out and book every nip, tuck, suction, and peel on the market. Who did that? Film stars, pop people, and models – and maybe some of those very rich folk that were bitchy mean to one another and air kissed.

  Nope, she was a normal, age gracefully and let things all slide down to where nature intended them to be, kind of a woman, and it was staying that way.

  She d
id, for one moment, consider finding a spell that might temporarily render his good vision blurry, but the man still had hands – he’d feel her squishy bits – and she had more than a few of those.

  She’d earned those squishy bits the hard way. Pregnancy. Menopause. Night sweats – until she’d discovered consuming a little sage on everything helped – weight gain – cravings – wanting to rip bars of chocolate from poor unsuspecting little children’s hands and consume them in one bite.

  Brain fog – brain farts – making lists and then forgetting where she put those! And being so damn thirsty that she could have laid under a water fountain with the tap on and drunk until it was dry, then up peeing all night, yes, she’d earned her stripes.

  But, could she wear them proudly when it came to doing what came naturally? Only time would tell.

  ~

  ~

  ~

  Samuel couldn’t help himself; he found that her scent was all around him, and it was just too sweet a smell not to take it in. He was already walking, stark naked, and with his hands over his hard length – for her benefit – he figured that a little sniff wouldn’t hurt anything.

  “You’re sniffing,” Summer said.

  She had tried her best to keep her eyes front and center. While it was true that the man couldn’t be expected to snatch up clothes from thin air, the sight of him naked was just too much temptation to be anything other than magnetizing.

  At least that’s what her brain kept on telling her eyes.

  A sneaky peek here and there. A snatched look at those hard, ripped muscles, preferably without getting busted, and Summer’s body was telling her things that her mind didn’t want to hear.

  It wasn’t as if she was deliberately going out of her way to objectify him. It just seemed to be a natural occurrence.

  “I have a cold,” Samuel lied.

  Summer shot him a sideways glance, regretting it the instant that her eyes took on a mind of their own, and traveled over a good proportion of his body.

  “Shifters don’t get colds,” she challenged him.

  “Sure we do,” he offered her a wickedly wolfish grin when she shot him another look. “We just don’t keep hold of them for very long.”