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Maverik's Ashes

Page 24

by Sandra R Neeley


  “Quit looking at my woman!” Maverik pretend snarked at Bam. “And besides, how did you know that we were having a special breakfast?”

  “It’s like my super power,” Bam answered him, grinning, “It’s like my Bear wakes up, sniffing around and says, hmm, wonder whose breakfast we’re gonna join today. And today, he picked you!” he finished, smiling wide. Then he added, with an even bigger smile, “You’re welcome!”

  They sat and enjoyed breakfast, Mav feeding Valerie pieces from his own plate and picking pieces off of hers as well, just like she always thought he’d do. Bam ate ‘til he was stuffed, and Avaleigh even sat and ate with them. When they were almost done, Bam’s phone rang. He meticulously cleaned his hands on his napkin before reaching for it to see who had called. His brows drew down in confusion as he looked at the number for the missed call.

  “What is it, Bam? Who called?” Avaleigh asked, seeing his confusion.

  “Nobody,” he mumbled, lost in tapping his phone screen and obviously navigating to a particular program on his phone.

  When he seemed to have gotten to where he wanted to be in the phone, he sat back to watch the screen, holding it up in front of his face to better see it. There was no sound, but the changes that passed over his features made it clear he was not happy with whatever he was watching. In fact, a low, slow snarl leaked from his chest.

  “Bam? What is it?” Maverik asked. He’d set his fork down and pushed his chair back from the table, preparing to handle whatever upset his best friend.

  Bam flicked his eyes up at Maverik, then to the women sitting at the breakfast table with them, before seeming to have made a decision. He shook his head, “Nothing. I got it.” He closed whatever he was looking at on his phone, stood, and slid the phone into his pocket. He turned to Avaleigh, “Thank you for breakfast, Avaleigh.” Then he turned to Valerie, “Thanks for letting me share breakfast this morning, Valerie. You’re nice. I like you being in our family.” Then he said, “I’ll see ya’ll later, Mav. I got to go to town.”

  He turned to leave the house, and Maverik called after him, jumping up to follow him into the living room, “What the hell, Bam? Where are you going?”

  Bam turned to Maverik, “It’s all good, Maverik. Stay here with your new Mate. I just got to take care of something. No biggie. I’ll be back soon.”

  “You sure, Bam? Don’t go off by yourself if you think it’s something you might need backup for.”

  “Naw, I’m good. Really, I’d tell you if I thought it was too dangerous.”

  Maverik jumped back, pointing at Bam, “Aha! So you are going to do something dangerous!”

  Bam shook his head, “You are too much, you know that? No, I am not gonna be in danger. I am just going to take care of somethin’. And if it was your business, I’d tell you! But it ain’t, so I’m not!” Then raising his voice, “Avaleigh! Make Maverik leave me alone!”

  “Fine, I’ll leave you alone, but you got two hours, two hours only, and if you’re not back, I’m a coming,” Maverik told Bam.

  Bam looked at him for a minute, sensing that his Wolf was not going to let this go. He finally gave in, “Fine, but make it three hours.”

  “Deal,” Maverik said, even putting out his hand to shake on it.

  As Bam rounded the main house and went out of sight, Maverik stood there with Avaleigh on one side, Bam having called her to intervene, and Valerie on the other.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Valerie asked.

  “Yeah, he will. It’s just unusual for him to show any interest in anything other than the clan. That and the pissed-off look on his face while he looked at that phone has me curious. What the hell is he up to?” Maverik asked.

  “I don’t know, but he sure as hell called me to make you leave him alone. So he definitely doesn’t want you meddling,” Avaleigh told him.

  “Yeah, I know,” Maverik answered, still looking to where Bam had disappeared around the front of the main house as he went to his truck, “Which means…I’m meddlin’!” he said as he nodded his head happily. “Valerie, get dressed, darlin’. We heading to town!”

  The End. For now…

  From the Author

  Thank you for purchasing this book. I hope that my stories make you smile and give you a small escape from the daily same ole/same ole. I write for me, simply for the joy of it, but if someone else also smiles as a result, even better. Your support is greatly appreciated. If you liked this story, please remember to leave a review wherever you bought it, so that more people can find my books. Each review is important, no matter how short or long it may be.

  See you in the pages of the next one!

  Sandra R Neeley

  About the Author

  My name is Sandra R Neeley. I write Paranormal Romance with a small town feel. Why, you may ask? Romance, because who doesn’t love a good romance, and Paranormal because, well, normal is highly overrated, so Paranormal it is. I’m 53, I have two kids, one 31 and one 11 (yes, God does have a sense of humor), one grandchild, one husband, and a menagerie of animals. I love to cook, I am a voracious reader, though since I started writing I don’t get as much time to read as I once did. I am a homebody and prefer my writing/reading time to a crowd. I have had stories and fictional characters wandering around in my head for as long as I can remember. I’m a Self-Published Author, and I like it that way because I can decide what and when to write. I am by no means a formal, polished, properly structured individual and neither are my stories. But people seem to love the easy emotion and small town feel that naturally flows from them. A bit of a warning though, there are some “triggers” in them that some people should avoid. I’m a firm believer that you cannot have light without the dark. You cannot fully embrace the joy and elation that my people eventually find if you do not bear witness to their darkest hours as well. So please read the warnings supplied with each of the synopses about my books before you buy them.

  You can find me at any of these places:

  www.sneeleywrites.com

  Send her an email at authorsandrarneeley@gmail.com

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