Reilly's Tiger Lovers [The Tigers of Texas 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Em Ashcroft

  Brennan still hadn’t answered him when Seth took the plates over to the table and put them down. Brennan closed the laptop and set it aside, making room for the eating irons and the condiments. No breakfast was complete without at least catsup and hot sauce, according to Brennan.

  Seduced by the aroma of eggs and bacon, Seth picked up his fork and tucked in. After his second mouthful, he repeated his question. “Did you tell this woman about me?”

  “Sure.” Brennan ate another bite before he said any more. “That is—I didn’t get around to telling her we were shape-shifters. Just that you’re my business partner and we share a house.”

  Ah. “So she’s not into sharing? It might have passed your understanding, partner, but you can’t get a breedmate to bond without sharing.”

  “Yes.” Brennan grimaced. “But when we met she thought I was a worker, you know, an employee, and so I had to put her straight about that. I didn’t want to swamp her with new knowledge.”

  “And you thought she might back off.”

  Brennan demolished his tomatoes before he spoke. That gave him time to think up an answer, Seth guessed. “Yeah, well, that might have come into it. She seems a bit skittish where shape-shifters are concerned.”

  “Then why in God’s name come to a place that is full of them?”

  “She wants a change, she said.”

  There came that discomfort again. That sounded too vague. Setting up a store meant considerable investment. “What did she do in Chicago?”

  “She was a nurse.”

  “Ah.” That explained a few things. “Chicago has a very busy hospital system. A lot of the people who come to the emergency departments are on welfare and they can’t go anywhere else.”

  Brennan lifted his eyes to meet Seth’s. “Since when were you such an expert in the Chicago hospital system?”

  “Since I had to take someone there once.” Seth’s mouth curled. “I was in town for a conference. You remember, about five years ago.” Brennan nodded. Seth did most of the conventions and exhibitions where they drummed up business. He could look forward to less of that in the near future. Their part in renovating the Goldclaw ranch, and using their home to show what they could do, had gained them plaudits that they could cash in for years. “One of the delegates got sick. For that, read drank too much. I took him to the emergency room, and in the hours and hours we had to wait, I listened to a lot of gossip and read the posters on the walls. Every single one.” He could still smell the blood and vomit, mixed with the pungent stink of disinfectant. “That was all I needed to know what a state the hospitals are in. It must be hell working in that situation.” He was trying to persuade himself as much as his breed partner because he still had a sneaking instinct that something wasn’t quite right.

  He needed to find out before Brennan got himself completely tangled up in her.

  They ate in companionable silence before Seth pushed his plate away with a contented sigh. “Here’s the deal. I’m going to see her today, not you. I get to tell her we’re shape-shifters, and we’ll see what she wants after that.”

  Brennan sighed. “She means something to me, Seth.”

  “Then she deserves the truth, doesn’t she? If you carry on deceiving her, she won’t take kindly to it. No woman would.” He gathered the plates and strolled to the dishwasher, more to give Brennan time to think than anything else.

  “Okay.” Brennan spoke quietly, but Seth heard it fine. “Call me when you’ve done it, and tell me what she says. But I want her out of that motel.” He leaned back and gazed at Seth as he straightened and turned around. “Can we let her live on the store premises? We did discuss the possibility of allowing it.”

  “I’m not sure the insurance will cover it.” Seth grimaced. “I don’t like it, Brennan. I’d rather not, if we can avoid it. I can ask around, though. We can find her somewhere.”

  Brennan didn’t suggest this place, and that said a lot. He knew how much Seth valued his privacy. That was why they were rattling around a five bedroom property on their own. Seth didn’t like his personal space compromised in any way, and any invitation to stay over usually came from him. Brennan used a hotel when he was flying solo. Seth appreciated his consideration. That was why he wanted to check this woman out. He could remain more impartial than his breed partner, and maybe do a little mental snooping. He’d put his senses on alert, and check her out. If he told her he was a shape-shifter first, it wasn’t so invasive. Not that he’d hesitate if he thought his breed partner was in trouble.

  He didn’t, though. Something else troubled him—as if her story didn’t make sense, as if she’d left something out. “I’ll head out,” he said. “And you can go through the schedules. Deal?”

  Brennan gave a wry grin. “I guess so.” With a resigned air, he grabbed the laptop and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll go in to the office in town and talk to Penny.”

  “Try to persuade her to do the work?”

  Laughing, Brennan shrugged. “Nah. I need to take a look at these anyhow. I might as well do it by playing with the scheduling. What the fuck did people do before the computer did all the heavy stuff?”

  “Pencil and paper,” Seth said shortly. “And an eraser.” Now they could optimize ordering materials, jobs in hand, and the use of their staff by shuffling things around on the program they’d had written for them. It even made recommendations based on the facts they put in.

  Brennan opened his mouth and snapped it shut again. Seth knew the signs. “What? C’mon, you were going to say something.”

  “Ah, yes.” Brennan’s lips stretched in a broad grin. “Get her to show you the stock. It’s very interesting.”

  “Souvenirs?” Seth scoffed. “Why should I be interested in those?”

  “Some of them are a bit unusual.”

  He couldn’t get any more out of him, so he gave up and headed out. How unusual could souvenirs be, for fuck’s sake?

  Seth made his way out to his car. Two pickups stood side by side, emblematic of their owners. They had others, but these were the everyday vehicles, the ones that took them to work and back every day. His was red, because that was the only color the dealer had in stock at the time, and Seth didn’t want to wait around for another. He climbed in and gunned the engine.

  The sun shone down, but thick clouds promised more rain. That meant the Stevenson job might be delayed. They were about to lay the roof on the Stevenson’s new house, a couple living just outside Houston, but not on Goldclaw land. That would give Goldclaw Construction another network to use. Hitting the control on the dashboard, Seth made a hands free call to the foreman on the job. “We started early, boss,” Jeb informed him. “I got the feeling it was about to rain. We’re half done. We should get it finished before nightfall.”

  “If you need to take overtime, do it,” Seth said. Even if they had to build this place at a loss it would be worth it because of the new contacts they’d make.

  Relieved of that concern, Seth drove into town and parked outside the store. As he got out, he grabbed his small toolbox. There were always small adjustments to be made, and it would give him the excuse to linger and find out more about her. Brennan had mentioned a shelf out of alignment. He’d take a look.

  Workmen were busy next door, in a place that would sell accessories for women, purses and scarves from the displays the company had fitted. He walked past, enjoying the sense of belonging, trying to reconcile it with being a newcomer, and paused outside the store Reilly O’Neill had taken.

  This was a smaller area than the others. They’d split this unit into two, to give some variety to the row and to allow different kinds of stores to settle there. As long as she didn’t degenerate into pure tat, then she’d fit in. A jeweler had taken the twin to her store, but they hadn’t moved in yet. For now, Reilly had the unit to herself. Seth couldn’t wait to see the row up and running, as it had been before the disastrous fire. Although that had given them a start in the town, after their success at the hotel, he
wanted to move on and consolidate what they’d started.

  He wouldn’t have wished for that fire, though. It had left an ugly scar that needed filling. Seth and Brennan had erected a small plaque at the end of the row, to the memory of the people who had died there. They wouldn’t be forgotten.

  He tried the door, but it was locked, so he rang.

  A small figure emerged from the room at the back and peered at him.

  Seth sucked in a breath. While redheads didn’t always get to him, certainly not like they did to Brennan, this one—instantly, Seth knew what Brennan had found in her. Reilly O’Neill had a piquantly pointed chin, green eyes set on a slight slant, and a figure that made his mouth water. She was a small woman with curves. Seth could almost taste those delectable nipples currently concealed by a nicely tight lavender-colored T-shirt. Her jeans delineated a figure he would kill to get his hands on, and the light of intelligence shone in her eyes.

  Seth deliberately took three deep breaths and forced control back into himself, but he knew this would only get worse. He hadn’t scented her, and like all shape-shifters, scent was important to him.

  When she opened the door he got a snootful. Fuck, she was rare and lovely.

  Seth didn’t realize he was gawping at her until she tilted her head to one side and said, “I’m not open yet.”

  “I know.” Fumbling in his pocket, he found a business card. “I’m Brennan’s partner Seth. He couldn’t make it this morning, so I came around to see what I can do. He says he’ll see you later.”

  “Oh. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

  “Nice of you to ask, ma’am, but no, there isn’t.” She moved away from the door and let him in. She was far too trusting for a Chicagoan. She should take care who she let in to her place.

  But he was interested to notice she had her phone handy, sticking out of her top pocket.

  And yes, she smelled fine—of sexual invitation. “You shouldn’t let just anybody in here.”

  “I know,” she said without turning around. “But I knew you. It’s hard to describe.”

  “Brennan probably projected the image without realizing,” he said. “Breed partners do that sometimes.” Especially when they recognized a potential breedmate. And she definitely fell into that category. “Before you ask, yes, I know what you did with him last night. He didn’t tell me—he didn’t have to.”

  When she got the meaning of what he was telling her, she stood stock-still in the center of the hardwood floor. Slowly, she turned to meet his gaze. “Brennan didn’t say he was a shape-shifter,” she said quietly. “I thought his name was Black.”

  “Did he tell you that?” Because he wanted to reach out and grab her, Seth stuck his thumbs in his belt, Western style to stop that happening.

  “Kind of.” A double crease appeared between her brows. “He was interrupted. Black’s not a shape-shifter name. That’s a patronymic, and you shape-shifters call yourselves after their place of origin, don’t you?”

  “A little of both,” Seth said. “It’s not Black. It’s Blackfur.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened—pretty green eyes—and her brows rose. “If I’d known, I might not have done it.”

  “He should have told you. I’m sorry he didn’t. So is he.”

  “I need to hear that from him.”

  He sensed her uncertainty. She was wary of shifters? Why come to Goldclaw, then? “You haven’t been around shape-shifters before?”

  “Not much.” She turned, her hair swinging around her shoulders, and went toward the back room. Seth followed slowly, enjoying the view. That butt was made for his hands. This woman would fit so well between them. His cock hardened, as if to emphasize the point. Not that it needed emphasizing. Seth wanted her. His strategy changed right that moment, but not his resolve. Breedmates were for life, and he wanted to be sure before he took that step.

  The back room was filled with boxes. Some were open, and goods were laid out on the table, ready to be put on the shelves.

  Except—he reached out and picked up a pair of handcuffs. They were decorated with tiger stripes. “Is this a joke?”

  She looked adorable when she blushed.

  Fuck, could Brennan be right? Could there be one breedmate out there for every pair? The recent change, allowing humans to become breedmates, had thrown everybody for a loop, but this—no, he didn’t believe in fate. If he did, it hadn’t worked for him so far. He preferred to believe that he made his own destiny.

  “They’re special stock. They won’t be on display, but I thought people might like a bit of fun.” She kept her face averted.

  A slow smile wreathed his face. Sure, he could think of a few bits of fun he could get up to with these. “What else do you have?”

  After he dropped the cuffs back in the box, he meant to dive in for more, but Reilly was too quick for him. She shoved the flaps over. Seth’s hand hit cardboard. “You’ll have to wait until the store opens,” she said. “I’ll do a few parties, but they’ll be women only.”

  He raised a brow. “You’ll get more customers if you let them come with their partners.”

  She lifted the box and turned away, but not before he caught sight of the red color flooding her cheeks. It spread down her neck, a pretty, deep pink and for all he knew over the rest of her. He wanted to see that shade all over her cute body.

  When she turned around, she’d closed down. She had a professional half-smile on her face, and her eyes were expressionless. She’d made a decision. “Please tell your breed partner not to bother to call me later. Tell him it was nice, but I don’t want to carry on.”

  Fucking Brennan, losing them this treasure. Seth forced a smile to his face. “Sure, I’ll tell him. And don’t worry, we know how to take no as no.”

  The tension filling the atmosphere eased, as if saying it made her feel better. It didn’t make him feel better. Now he had seen her, now he had been in her presence, he wanted her.

  He’d just have to suck it up.

  He still had a job to do. Turning, he went back into the main room. “Brennan mentioned a shelf that needed adjusting. Let me take a look at it for you.”

  Picking up his toolbox, Seth went into workman mode. Although he owned a substantial business now, he had started his working life on building sites. He could build a brick wall straight and true, put the plaster skim on a wall, and make a shelf as straight as a spirit level. At least he could do that for her. He’d like to think they could be friends, but now he had accepted the possibility of them sharing a bed, he didn’t know if that was possible anymore. Because he wanted her too badly. His cock was hard, pressing against his zipper as if it wanted out.

  He turned his mind to the task in hand. A quick perusal showed him which shelf was out of whack. Even by eye he could tell. It was on the wall behind the counter with nothing else above it, but it was definitely wrong. It wasn’t good enough. He would find out who did that before the day was over and deal with it. Goldclaw Construction had a reputation for top class work, and even a shelf that was not straight needed chasing up.

  Reilly followed him into the room. “I can’t see it myself,” she said, but she followed the direction of his gaze and stared at the offending shelf. “Oh, yes, I see it now.”

  She wandered across the room and touched the counter, trailing her finger across the surface.

  Seth shivered. He felt that touch over his whole body. It didn’t do anything for his self-control. He bent and opened his toolbox, picking out the spirit level. He had everything he needed for a small adjustment like that. It wouldn’t take him long.

  Riley walked slowly behind the counter, and put her hands on it, palms down. She tilted her chin and gave him a perky smile. “I have to get used to this now, don’t I?” She put on a different tone of voice. “May I help you, sir? Do you have your eye on anything?”

  Seth suppressed his groan.

  He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could a cracking sound broke into their conversation.r />
  Everything seemed to happen at once.

  Reilly sagged to one side, lost her balance and clutched at the counter. Her short fingernails scraped across the surface before she tumbled to one side.

  Before she fell, Seth was there. He caught her in his arms, pulled her free. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the store. Putting her down gently by the door, he took a moment to ensure she was all right and then returned to the counter.

  A floorboard under her foot had given way. It hadn’t been nailed down at all. No, that was wrong, he could see the hole where it had been. Somebody had wrenched it out.

  The board was immediately below the shelf. Whoever had removed the floorboard must have knocked the shelf and sent it off line.

  Seth took more care sliding the floorboard to one side. Something was under there, but the light wasn’t good enough to make out what it was.

  The smell that rose to his nostrils made sight almost redundant. When he partially shifted, the odor became unmistakable.

  Fuck. He smelled blood. Human blood.

  Just to make sure, he collected his flashlight from his toolbox.

  “What can you see?” Riley sounded unsure, but she took a step forward.

  “Stay where you are. It might not be safe. Someone’s lifted a floorboard, and he didn’t nail it down properly afterward.” Or at all.

  His thoughts came to a shuddering halt. Why would somebody shove a body down there and not bother to clear up afterward? If they wanted to hide it, surely they would have done a better job of fastening the board down after.

  Seth switched on his flashlight.

  A woman lay in the cavity. She had been shot. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with something written on it. Unfortunately, Seth couldn’t tell what it said because most of the words were covered in blood and part of it was blown away. That wasn’t the only bullet hole. Half her head was missing. It was obvious Seth couldn’t help her.

  Switching off the flashlight, Seth straightened up. “Call the police,” he said. “We’ve got a problem.”