by Holley Trent
SUMMARY
While most of Maria, New Mexico is getting into the holiday spirit, coyote shifter Diana Shapely has more pressing concerns. For one thing, the due date of her twin niece and nephew is rapidly approaching and she needs to find them the absolute perfect welcome-to-the-world gifts. For another, the girlfriend she ghosted a year ago just showed up out of the blue.
Lanie Chappell is a tough cookie who knows how to take “no” for an answer, but she also knows there’s something off about Diana’s rambling rationale for dumping her. Diana claimed she merely wanted to protect human Lanie from the dangerous world of shapeshifters, but Lanie had never asked to be coddled. She didn’t spend more than a decade in the Army hiding from challenges. Furthermore, if there’s anyone who needs her back watched, it’s Diana.
The truth is that Diana was terrified that Lanie would realize Diana didn’t stack up. After being told all her life that she’d never make anything of herself, Diana decided that she’d rather cut her losses than be the one who gets left.
Steady Lanie is the soothing counterbalance to Diana’s wilder spirit and the champion she’s always wanted. But if Diana can’t shake off the deep-seated insults of the past, she’ll never be able to claim the mate she deserves.
CHAPTER ONE
Holy hell, there are two of them.
Energized by the prospect of a good deal, Diana Shapely stuffed the wad of estate maps and inventory flyers she’d been carrying into her tote bag. She also set down the still-full glass of complimentary champagne the caterer had thrust toward her at the door. Nestled in a dark corner near a reproduction suit of armor and several rolled-up Persian rugs was a pair of gorgeous two-foot-high cherrywood chests.
From a distance, those boxes, with their rounded tops and smooth, unadorned sides looked to be in pristine condition. Better yet, they appeared to be identical.
The identical aspect was important because in about a month, she was going to have her very first niece and nephew, and she couldn’t just give them the same sort of store-bought gifts as everyone else. People expected more from her. After all, she was the sister of the highest-ranking coyote shifter in the town of Maria, New Mexico. Moreover, Blue practically oozed money. She had to outdo everyone—if not with expense, then with uniqueness.
Even if it weren’t for the fact that she lived under a microscope of scrutiny, Diana would still want those kids to have something that would last. Growing up with a father who discouraged softness in any form, Diana had never been able to get attached to anything. She wanted more for them. They could have more than she had.
Plus, being the innately morbid sort, Diana had decided that when she was dead and gone, she wanted those kids to think, “Oh, Aunt Diana. You were such a mess, but we loved you anyway.”
That was all anyone ever wanted, in her estimation—to be loved, in spite of what they couldn’t be.
Easing toward the corner carefully so as not to draw attention to the objects, Diana put her phone to her ear. She murmured some nonsense words into it and tried to make herself look distracted.
Like hell I’m going to be sniped by a bunch of amateurs.
The gaggle of ladies-who-brunch who had been conversing in that corner of the giant hacienda’s large study suddenly seemed to multiply. There were six of those cowboy hat-wearing ranch matriarchs, fondling their pearls as they sipped weak mimosas and chatted about the dearly departed who’d owned the place. They weren’t even shopping. They were just shooting the shit.
Diana growled softly into the quiet phone and wondered if she could edge behind them for a closer look at those chests without upsetting the order of things.
She hadn’t known the deceased homeowner. She’d learned about the estate sale in the same way she always did as of late: from invitations shoved hastily through her apartment’s mail slot. She hadn’t lived in Maria long enough to be on the best mailing lists, but she’d gotten around enough that people knew that if she showed up, she bought prolifically and she paid in cash. After all, she was a pro. Being a professional organizer, she knew all the best ways not to waste people’s time.
Two more women joined the brood. The corner was so tight with bodies that there was no way Diana could wedge into it without having to buy them all drinks afterward or—she shuddered at the thought—actually communicating with them. It wasn’t that she minded talking to people. She simply had things to do. Groceries to buy. Coyotes to nag.
That last thing was nearly a fulltime gig, and an unpaid one.
The matrons hadn’t seemed to notice those chests yet. She didn’t want them to notice. She wanted to cart those things out without having to haggle over them, and those women looked like hagglers.
They don’t even want half the shit they buy, probably.
Sighing, she glanced back at the doorway, wondering if the attorney in charge of the shindig could assist. Some tactfulness was required. Maria was a small town, and there was no doubt she’d be seeing those women again. Wealth flocked with wealth, and everyone knew Blue had more money than anyone. The last thing Diana needed was for them to spread around that she’d been overly aggressive and rude. Diana was trying to get her organizing business off the ground again. Early word of mouth in her new town was going to either make her or tank her.
Squaring her shoulders, she dropped her phone into her tote and withdrew her wallet. She made her way to the estate sale assistant stationed behind the desk and had a stack of cash out by the time she got there.
“Those two chests,” she said, discreetly gesturing toward the birds in the boots. “You got any notes about their condition? I really don’t want to buy without examining them, but—”
The lady put up her hands in a say no more gesture and then chuckled as she opened a thick binder. Her tight, dense braids fell forward into her face as she dragged a fingertip down a page.
Diana shifted her weight impatiently. One of those ladies was looking around like she needed someplace to sit. If she sat on one of those chests, she might actually want to take a closer look at them.
“The chests convey with whatever is inside them,” the assistant said. “We don’t have the keys, and the executor didn’t want to spend the money on a locksmith. The items inside may not be worth the cost of the service.”
“I’m not worried about the stuff inside,” Diana said in a rush. “I just want the furniture. Any notes about damage? Rot?”
“No. I’m not certain, but I believe those were stored in the mansion’s housekeeping closet. They would have been maintained well. I bet they contain tablecloths and napkins and such. None of that was accounted for when we were doing inventory.”
Diana had no use at all for fancy linens, but if they were in there, she’d respectfully find a new home for them. “How much?”
“Fifty dollars each if you cart them away yourself, but—”
Diana peeled off five twenties and thrust them at her.
The woman’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you want to look at them first?”
“No,” Diana said through clenched teeth. “I want you to take this money in your pretty little hand and give me two of those stickers that say ‘Sold.’”
The woman sucked in some air and gave Diana a wary look. “You know there are no refunds, right? Policy says if I take that money and write you a receipt, I can’t give it back.”
“For a measly hundred bucks, that’s a risk I’m willing to take. My time is worth way more than that.”
With Christmas rapidly approaching, there were probably a dozen places she could have been at that moment, and plus, it was Tuesday. On Tuesdays, she was on the hook to escort Maria’s mostly-shapeshifter Girl Scout troop to crafts night at the nursing home. She was trying to teach them all about
punctuality, and that meant she needed to actually have her ass there on time, too.
“I’m really not trying to give you a hard time here,” Diana told the woman. “In fact, I’m trying to preempt a bidding war. I want those chests for my brother’s kids. They don’t need to be perfect, but they do need to match.”
“Everyone gives me a hard time.” The woman gently took the cash and started a receipt for Diana. “Not sure what it is about this place. Every time we do a sale in Maria, there’s always some issue. What’s your name?”
“Diana Shapely. And I’ll be back to pay for some other stuff later.” She’d seen some bookcases that were just screaming for re-homing. They were fifty years out of style, but that didn’t matter. She’d find a way to make them work, wherever they ended up. “Those chests are my priority.”
The lady handed over the receipt and attached two stickers to the back of her hand. “All right. Let’s go tag ’em.”
“I appreciate your assistance,” Diana said as the woman made her way around the table.
“Oh, no worries. We’re in the business of settling estates, not running museums.”
Diana laughed as they approached the crowd. “In that case, let me give you my card before you pack up and leave town. Let me know directly the next time you’ll be in the area, and I’ll show up on preview night with a hand truck and wearing my coveralls.”
The lady laughed and said to the milling matriarchs, “Excuse me, ladies. We need to get these chests out.”
They parted and, looking a bit stupefied, all turned to look at the trunks behind them.
“You mean those?” One woman pointed with her mimosa glass.
“Yep.” The assistant smacked an orange sticker onto each and looked at Diana, wearing a tight smile. “Do you have a truck?”
Wiggling her eyebrows, Diana rocked back on her boot heels. “Yep. Rented one from the moving van place.” She tried to be prepared as often as she could be. She may have looked like she’d just crawled out of a wild fetish weekend in her tight black attire and aggressively winged eyeliner, but working those sales and getting her purchases where they needed to be was one of the few things she was really good at.
“Well, how much are they?” One woman was searching in her purse.
Another had put on her reading glasses and was peering critically at their construction.
“They’re not for sale,” Diana said.
You snooze, you lose, broad.
She chuckled low as she knelt in front of the first chest and smoothed her hands over the wood. “Good quality. Gorgeous brass hardware. Minor wear.”
They’d look perfect in the kids’ nursery.
She tuned out the chattering birds behind her and snapped a quick picture of each on her phone. With that task done, she tapped out a text message to Kenny, one of her brother’s lieutenants.
Buying heavy stuff. Can you find me a couple of Coyotes who can do two hours of work? I’ll pay cash under the table as always.
He immediately responded: Address?
Diana chuckled deviously as she tapped in the location. “So efficient, Ken. Love the way you work.”
Mission accomplished, she dug into her tote for the sale map and headed for her number two priorities—coat racks and umbrella stands. Nobody had those anymore, and she didn’t understand why not. They were terribly useful.
She squatted beside a heavy, wrought iron coat tree and wondered if the paint had lead. “I need a local go-to person to check for lead. Used to have a guy.”
“You having a guy would explain a lot of things,” came the deadpan quip from the other side of the room.
Diana jolted upright, nearly knocking the rack over in the process.
That voice…
She shouldn’t have been hearing it there. Lanie Chappell wasn’t supposed to be in Maria because Diana had told her ex in very explicit terms the last time she’d popped in that there wasn’t going to be a them anymore.
Lanie had asked for a good reason why not.
Diana had given her a reason—that she didn’t want Lanie, a run-of-the-mill human, all mixed up in the shapeshifter bullshit.
Lanie had responded, “I said a good reason, Diana.”
The conversation had devolved precipitously from there. After about an hour of arguing in the back alley of Maria’s most popular bar, Lanie had to leave to catch her plane home to Oregon, and Diana had thought she’d seen the last of her. She was convinced that they wouldn’t ever have to have that fight again, and that she could finally mourn the breakup properly.
But there Lanie was, hovering in the wide doorway with that military-straight posture, wearing the coyest of smiles on her lips. Pink Lustre lips. Always the same color. Muted. Flattering. Subtle enough to meet strict Army dress codes. Lanie wasn’t in the Army anymore, but old habits died hard with her.
Apparently, Diana was one of them.
Diana’s hand found the pole of the rack. She didn’t know if she was balancing it or if it was keeping her upright, but she was afraid to let go.
Lanie.
Diana’s instinct was to always run to her. The wild part of her that had already decided, Well, this one can stand you. May as well keep her, was to blame, but Diana’s higher logic reminded her of how dangerous it was for a creature like her to be kept.
She’d never wanted to hurt Lanie. She loved that woman more than her own life, and that was why she’d let her go in the first place. All signs pointed to Lanie being Diana’s mate. As rare as that was for a person who wasn’t a shapeshifter of any sort, Diana couldn’t commit. There were too many reasons why she couldn’t, but mostly, Lanie didn’t belong in Diana’s world. She belonged someplace where there was a normal order to things, and brilliant as she was, she belonged with someone who had some sense.
According to Diana’s father, Randall, “sense” was something that she’d been born without and would never develop without celestial intervention.
Lanie took a step into the room, hands in the pockets of her black slacks, and studied the ceiling. “Huh.”
Diana blinked, then looked up.
She regretted looking up. There was a mural on the ceiling—a bastardization of “The Creation of Adam.” A bronco had replaced Adam, and a cowboy with a lasso played the role of God.
The fuck is wrong with people?
She sighed and knocked a bit of flaking paint from the coat rack off her hands. “What are you doing here, Lanie?”
“Figured you’d be here. When I got into town and saw you weren’t at your brother’s house, I figured I’d check the other obvious places. You never could resist an estate sale.”
“That wasn’t what I asked and you know it.”
Lanie took a few more steps into the room. She paused at the edge of the faded rug and nudged the fringe with the toe of her pump. “I don’t know what you expect me to tell you, except the same truth as always. I missed you, and wanted to see you.”
I miss you, too, a pitiful little voice in Diana’s head chimed in.
Diana could never admit it aloud. She could never let Lanie think there was a chance, or let her know how badly Diana wanted her still.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked Lanie in the most neutral of tones.
“Technically, I am at work. Call it a layover. I flew into Albuquerque to collect some artifacts that are being repatriated to Ethiopia.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.” That was all Diana could think to say. If anyone were to ask her what Lanie did for a living, she wouldn’t be able to describe it well. Like Diana’s brother Blue, Lanie had a graduate degree in folklore. They’d gone to the same school. Blue was the one who’d introduced Lanie to Diana, and at Lanie’s request.
Diana had been stunned by the introduction. Geeks didn’t generally have big enough huevos to ask her out.
“Are you working?” Lanie asked, smiling.
“Um.”
That smile always made the bottom of Diana’s belly feel like it
had fallen out, or maybe it was Lanie’s face in general. The perfect symmetry from her temples down to her gently pointed chin. The high-planed cheeks. The deep-set, chocolate brown eyes with those thick lashes and assertive eyebrows.
It was a face perfectly designed to both intimidate and enrapture, and Diana played the part of sucker to it every time.
She managed to start thinking clearly again when she closed her eyes. It was easier to ignore Lanie’s numerous appealing qualities when Diana didn’t actually have to look at her. It was also easier for her to ignore the damned whiny dog inside her who wanted to herd Lanie back into their little pack of two. “Yes and no,” she said thickly. “I came here for… But then I…”
The part of Diana that was the wild coyote was on high alert long before the human part of her could register the danger of Lanie’s improved proximity. The fine hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Lanie couldn’t have been more than three feet away. Diana suppressed the compulsion to rub down the prickling hairs.
Opening her eyes, she straightened to her full height of nearly six feet and carried the coat rack toward what she intended to be her “keep” corner. “I came for gifts but am staying for work,” she managed.
There! she thought, jubilantly. Actually sounded sure of yourself, for once.
Lanie’s ability to turn Diana into a simpering pile of mush had only strengthened since their breakup.
Blue had once asked her why she wore so much leather, and Diana had thought she was being cute when she’d responded, tartly, “Because of Lanie. It holds me together.”
He hadn’t laughed, probably because he understood the “joke” all too well. She hated her big brother sometimes.
“Doesn’t seem to be your style.” Lanie gestured to the house, or likely the eclectic palette of the decor.
“At sales like this, novices get distracted by style. I don’t.” Diana peered at her map, glanced through the open doorway to ascertain the location of the chatting broads who were probably waiting to use her as the canary in the coal mine to find the good stuff, and then hurried upstairs. Another estate sale attendant was stationed at the top.
