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Protecting Their Mate [Wolf Packs of Fate 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Page 8

by Jane Jamison


  “Listen, girls, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Betsy held her breath and watched a quiet exchange between her two friends.

  “Are you in trouble, Raven?”

  Surprised, Raven blinked at Emeline’s question, glanced at Betsy, and then went back to Emeline. “No. Yes. Kind of.”

  Guilt swamped her. She’d been so wound up in her own life with the store and with the men that she’d missed the fact that Raven had a problem. “What’s going on? Is someone bothering you? Tell me who and I’ll slam a bottle over his head. Is it one of the Hardwick brothers?”

  “If it’s one of them, then it’s a good kind of trouble,” called Heather from the back.

  “No. They’re great.”

  “Then what?”

  “An old…acquaintance of mine showed up in town.”

  “What makes me think this guy was more than an acquaintance?” Emeline gave Raven a questioning look. She was a smart girl and not easily fooled. “He’s an ex, isn’t he? And not a good one from the look on your face.”

  “No. He’s not.” Raven paused, obviously trying to sort out her words. “Let’s just say we didn’t part on good terms. He kind of showed up out of the blue after a long time.”

  “You should tell your men.”

  Betsy nodded, agreeing with Emeline. Yet she hadn’t told her men—could she call them her men?—about her past. Was Raven hiding a past, too?

  Suddenly, Raven brushed them off. “Never mind. This isn’t the time or place. Besides, isn’t it time to officially open your doors?”

  Wow. I almost forgot.

  “Oh shit. It is. Wish me luck.” It was finally time. At long last, after all the months of saving and planning, her dream was about to officially become real. Excitement flooded her—until she looked outside. “Doesn’t look like I needed to be in a hurry, though.”

  Raven came up beside her. “They’re getting a late start is all.”

  “She’s right,” added Emeline. “No one wants to be the first to come inside. Give them time.”

  “Besides, I’m your first customer, remember?”

  Betsy plastered on her best smile, determined to show a brave face, and turned around to find Heather placing a pile of clothing on top of the checkout counter.

  Still, it was hard for Betsy to get too excited. After all, one customer, and a friend at that, didn’t mean the store would make a go of it. She’d been half joking before. Having her friends make purchases just to help her out wasn’t how she wanted her grand opening to go. “I was only joking before. You really don’t have to do this.”

  “Hey, I want these things. They’re terrific. Seriously.” Heather handed over her credit card. “Ring them up.”

  “Um, Betsy, don’t look now, but I think you’re going to need to hire a shop girl,” said Raven.

  Betsy followed Raven’s nod. Scott, Billy, and Foster strode across the street, but they weren’t alone. They had a woman on each arm and were escorting them toward her store.

  “Talking about stores, I’d better get going to my job before Babs decides to fire me. Betsy, I’ll be back later once the crowd thins out. Save something for me to buy.” Raven scooted out the door as the men and the women entered.

  “Hey, baby.” Scott shot her a wink. “This is Mrs. Rutherford, and although she can’t get any prettier, she’d sure like to check out a few new things to wear.”

  He placed a kiss to the woman’s cheek. Betsy guessed her to be in her fifties with a light step and a twinkle in her eye. She’d beamed under Scott’s flattery, although Betsy was willing to bet the woman knew he was only being nice. After all, it was what nice men did.

  “I sure would.” Mrs. Rutherford pushed Scott away. “Still, something tells me this young man didn’t bring me in here to shop for my attire. Go on. Talk to the pretty lady.”

  Scott chuckled as the woman darted to the left and started talking with one of the ladies Foster had brought inside. “So how’s business going?”

  Was that how it was going to go? They’d exchange pleasantries and act like the night in the woods hadn’t happened? Still, what did she expect him to do? Tell her how good she’d been with a bunch of women around them?

  “I just opened.” She smiled as the older woman Billy had brought inside clung to his arm, all while she chatted on about what color would look best on her. “But thanks to you three, it’s going pretty well.”

  “We wanted to get things started off with a bang.” He eased closer to her. “These ladies are kind of big shots in Fate. Once you get their thumbs-up on your store, all the other women will come flocking in.”

  Provided they gave her the thumbs-up. But what if they didn’t?

  “Stop worrying.”

  She startled when Foster came up behind her and whispered in her ear. “I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you are. I can smell it on you.”

  “I’m sorry?” What did that mean? How did someone smell worry?

  “Forget it. Just look around. They’re eating it up.”

  She did and saw that Foster was right. All the women they’d brought inside were busy talking and rummaging through the clothes racks as well as the stacks of blouses, jeans, and shorts. Although most of them were conservatively dressed, they were still admiring some of the more stylish pieces.

  Maybe everything’s going to be all right after all.

  She dragged in a long, steadying breath.

  Billy finally broke away from the woman and hurried over to her. “Looks like you’re a hit.”

  She hoped he was right, but only time would tell. “Thanks. I really appreciate the support.”

  “And your friends are all here to support you, too,” added Scott. “You’ve done a really good job getting the place together.”

  “I had help.” She couldn’t help but feel warm and protected as they surrounded her.

  They parted then as several of the women lined up at the counter, ready to make purchases. She almost squealed with delight—my first real sale—but managed to maintain a professional demeanor. The men drifted away, giving her the space to conduct business. Before she knew it, she’d rung up several purchases. Her hands caressed the cash register after the line finally ended. Looking around, however, she had hopes that more women would soon bring their items to the counter.

  I’m really doing it. I’m making my dream come true.

  “You’re doing great. Looks like you’re going to be really busy from now on.”

  A thrill that wasn’t only from the success rippled through her. Like Foster’s and Scott’s, Billy’s voice evoked emotions that coursed through her like a train on a fast-speed track. “It’s terrific, isn’t it? I’m so relieved. Now I have everything I ever dreamed of.”

  “Everything?”

  Heat surged between her legs at Scott’s question. “Okay. Maybe not everything. But more than I ever thought I’d have.” More than her father had told her she was good enough to have.

  “Darlin’, you know we meant what we said, right?”

  Her mouth suddenly went dry. “I guess.”

  “You guess? Why would you doubt us?” asked Billy. He wrapped his arm around her in a possessive way that made her heart race.

  She blurted it out before she realized what she was doing. “Brittany and Sara said you’re playing with me. They said men like you would never be interested in someone like me.” She’d kept her voice low and tried to hold her smile in place so her customers wouldn’t know.

  “Like you?” Billy’s frown deepened. “I don’t get what you mean.”

  Did he need her to say it straight out? Or was he baiting her, making her hurt more? She steeled herself, ready to see the truth in their eyes, no matter what they said. “You know. A woman of substance. And I’m not talking about her money or her station in life.”

  She watched their reaction and was surprised at what she saw. They were genuinely stunned.

  “Are you serious?” Scott touched her hai
r, rubbing it between his fingers.

  The simple touch, along with Billy’s arm around her and Foster’s hungry stare, brought a quick flash of wetness between her legs. Surprised at how much craving they’d stirred in her, she checked around, certain the other women would’ve noticed. The sexual tension alone should’ve drawn their attention, and yet, they seemed unaware of her body’s wild ride into lust-filled need.

  “First of all, why are you listening to dimwits like Brittany and Sara? They wouldn’t know up from down.”

  “Foster’s right. More than likely they’re jealous and trying to knock you down a peg or two,” added Billy. “How do they know anyway?”

  She’d put the idea out of her head, unwilling to dwell on the thought that the two girls had seen what had gone on in the store. “They saw us.”

  “In the woods?” Scott denied it. “Nah, I’m sure no one saw us. It was secluded and dark.”

  A flash of heat swamped her neck and traveled into her cheeks. “No. Not outside the bar. I’m talking about the other day. In here.” Her gaze flicked to the counter where she’d been spread-eagle and wide open for anyone who happened to look inside the store.

  “Oh shit. We didn’t know…” The muscle in Foster’s jaw twitched. “Damn it, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck, well, we can’t do anything about it now. But you’ve got to know they’re full of shit. You do, right, baby?”

  She wanted to believe them, but it was so hard. Too many years, too many taunts from her father, her peers, and Robert had taught her to believe otherwise.

  “You’re special, honey.” Billy tightened his hold on her. “We told you. You’re the one for us. Don’t you get that?”

  She was about to answer when the overhead bell summoned her attention to the front of the store. Brittany and Sara walked inside.

  Betsy’s stomach tightened into a hard knot. Why had they come back? Although thrown, she wouldn’t let them see how much they’d rattled her. At least not again.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  She managed to grab hold of Billy’s arm before he could stalk over to the girls. “No. It’s okay.”

  “The hell it is.”

  Anger rolled off Scott, filling her with both dread and gratitude.

  “I’m going to toss their skinny butts out of here,” warned Foster.

  She held on to him, too. “No, please. I don’t a scene. Let them walk around and make snarky comments. I have to believe the other women and my friends will consider the source and not pay any attention to them.”

  “You’re a hell of a lot more forgiving than I’d be.”

  But Billy had it wrong. “Not forgiving. Like I said, I just don’t want them making a scene. They’ll act like the little bitches they are, and then they’ll leave. I’m going to be the better person.”

  Standing as straight as she could, she threw her shoulders back and sauntered over to Brittany and Sara. As she suspected, they were making snide remarks about the clothes as they snootily thumbed through the rack.

  “Hi, girls. Is there anything I can help you with?” Her mother had once told her that the best way to get at someone who didn’t like her was to kill them with kindness. As far as she was concerned, she wanted Brittany and Sara as dead as they could get. Figuratively speaking, of course.

  Brittany’s nose went skyward again. If the girl didn’t watch out, she’d drown in a hard rain. “Uh, no. All this stuff looks really old. Like for Mrs. Robertson.”

  “Oh? Do you think so?” She smiled yet let a dash of her irritation show in her face. Not that Brittany would pick up on it. The girl wasn’t bright enough to notice subtleties.

  “Yeah. My mother wouldn’t be caught in a trap wearing”—Sara picked at the sleeve to one of the dresses using only two fingers, as though touching it would get her dirty—“this.”

  “Then it’s a good thing your mother isn’t here yet.” Betsy regretted the words as soon as they’d left her mouth.

  “I wouldn’t be acting like you’re big shit or anything.” Brittany’s lovely face distorted with her sneer. “Especially after what you did. Damn, why not just lie down and spread your legs in the middle of the street?” She giggled, prompting Sara to giggle along with her.

  “Right? You should put a red light over your door. Maybe then you could make enough money to keep this rag shop open.”

  Betsy gritted her teeth, determined not to sink to their level. “Look, I don’t usually…” She struggled, trying to think of what she could say. “I mean it was a spur of the moment thing. I’m not…”

  Please don’t let anyone overhear us. If they do, I’ll be so embarrassed I’ll have to leave town for good.

  She tried again. “Seriously, I’m not—”

  “The kind of girl who has sex on top of her sales counter?” Brittany’s sneer extended to her eyes. “Or the kind of girl who could actually get with guys like them? Like I said before, it was pity sex. You know how dogs are. They’ll roll around in shit and not care how much it makes them smell.”

  Why did they keep referring to the men as dogs? And why was she trying to justify her actions to them? She’d had enough of girls like them.

  “You girls shouldn’t be running around without your mommies. I’m surprised you’re even weaned.”

  Betsy smothered a giggle at Foster’s comment. She slid her palm possessively along his arm.

  Suddenly, the girls’ shitty attitude was gone. Instead, they lowered their heads and struggled to look at Foster.

  “Girls, unless you’re going to buy something, you need to get on out of here.”

  If she hadn’t been standing right next to Foster, she doubted she would’ve heard his warning. Brittany and Sara, however, did. They stepped back with fear in their eyes. Suddenly, she felt sorry for them. Maybe they deserved everything they got, but she couldn’t stand by and let them get hurt. “Foster, stop.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm,” mumbled a subdued Brittany.

  Betsy looked from the girls to Foster. Billy and Scott had come up behind their friend. Their glares were anything but friendly. Memories of her father, his words cutting into her, came rushing back.

  “It’s okay. We, uh, need to get going anyway.” Sara clutched Brittany’s shirt as she turned and started toward the door.

  “No, wait up.”

  “Darlin’, don’t stop them.”

  But she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let anyone tell her who she could have in her store. “This isn’t your decision, Foster. Brittany? Sara? Please stay and look around. I’m glad you’re here.”

  The young women glanced at each other then past Betsy to the men. Brittany shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her indecision showing on her face.

  “No, it’s okay. We’ll come back another time.”

  “Seriously, Brittany. It’s all right.” As awful as they’d treated her, Betsy didn’t want to hold a grudge.

  Brittany’s gaze met hers. For a moment, she simply looked at Betsy.

  Slowly, Brittany gave her a genuine, albeit small, smile. “We’ll be back. And don’t worry. We haven’t said anything yet, and we won’t.” Her gaze flitted to the men and back. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

  She hadn’t wanted to ask them if they’d told anyone, and now she didn’t have to. “Thanks. Come back anytime you want. You, too, Sara.”

  Yet before the girls could leave, an impulse hit her. “Hey, girls?”

  They faced her again, their expressions a mix of anxiety and hope. “Yeah?” asked Brittany.

  “I know we got off to a bad start, but it looks like I’m going to need some help with the store. Would you two be interested in working as sales girls?” A part of her, however, couldn’t help but add, “I know the clothing isn’t your style, but working here might be fun. I can’t pay much, but—”

  “Yes.” Brittany checked with Sara, who was smiling as much as she was. “Like I said, we’re sorry for before, but we’d love to
have jobs.”

  “Great. Come back around closing time, and we’ll get the paperwork filled out and talk about what little I can pay you. Okay?” Funny, but she could sense the men’s disbelief. Which made what she’d done even better.

  “Okay. See you then.” Brittany smiled and clutched Sara’s hand. “Boss.”

  Betsy kept her composed expression until the girls were out the door. Once they were, however, she spun around and, keeping her voice low, gave the men hell. “Don’t ever try and tell me who I can and can’t have in my store.”

  They jerked back from her as though she’d struck them. She continued before they could find a response.

  “I know they acted like a couple of little bitches, but they’re young, and they’ll learn.”

  “More like a couple of hissing pussies.”

  She glared at Billy and resisted the urge to point a finger in their faces. Instead, she made sure her other customers weren’t listening. “I don’t like men who use intimidation to cower women. How you treated them was bullshit, even if they did deserve it.”

  “Now, look, darlin’—”

  “No. Don’t you go darlin’ me, Foster.” She finally gave in and pointed her finger at him and then at his friends. “No baby or honey, either. Strong men don’t need to act like jerks. Strong men don’t make women feel small in any way. Strong men respect and admire women. Strong men don’t order women around.” She couldn’t help but add, “Unless she wants them to. Do you understand? Am I making myself clear?”

  She couldn’t stand there any longer. If she did, she’d only get louder and louder until everyone overheard her. Her chest tightened, and her neck stiffened. She liked them so much, but if they were going to act like the other men in her life had acted, then she’d be better off ending whatever relationship they’d ever had a chance of having.

  “Look, honey—” Billy stuck his hands in his pockets. “I mean Betsy. We were only trying to help.”

  “Don’t. Just don’t.” She stormed past them, heading down the hallway where the dressing rooms were and to the small room she used for an office. Their footsteps resounded behind her, and as she was about to slam the door closed, Billy stopped her, pushing the door hard enough that it hit the wall.

 

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