by Michele Hauf
She stroked his hair along his arm, and that touch startled him awake. He lifted his head, snorted, then wobbled and fell off the bed.
Mireio leaned over the side of the bed. “Good morning, husband!”
After a groan, he gave her a thumbs-up from the floor.
“It’s actually closer to noon,” she said. “So what will we do with ourselves on our first official day as husband and wife?”
He exhaled and rubbed a hand over his abs, blinking as he came fully awake. “Sorry about denying you wedding night sex last night. I was beat.”
“I understand. We can still have ‘morning after the wedding’ sex.”
“That we can.”
And with an energy that surprised her, he lunged up onto the bed and crawled on top of her. She, of course, had slept naked, but he still had on his dress trousers. So she unzipped him and he swiftly kicked the pants to the floor.
“How’s it feel to be married?” he asked, then lashed his tongue over her nipple and sucked it deeply.
“Oh...goddess, yes.”
“That good, eh?”
She raked her fingers into his hair and held him there at her breast. Her body reacted to his intense motions by arching and squirming and...every nerve ending sang.
When his fingers slicked between her legs and pressed firmly against the edges of her opening she gasped. The man knew she liked pressure there, that sometimes he didn’t even have to enter her to coax her song to a wild, rocking anthem.
“I think I found the right spot,” he murmured against her ear, then tugged the lobe with his teeth. “Like this?” He glided his fingers firmly along the opening, contacting her clitoris, and occasionally slipped his thumb over her swollen pearl. “Oh, yeah, my witch is so happy she can’t even speak.”
Clinging to the sheets, she threw her head backward and it slid off the edge of the bed. He kissed her throat, laving her skin with his hot tongue. And his fingers increased pressure as he slowly stroked her to a long and moaning climax.
“I love to listen to you come,” he said. A shift of his thigh pressed his erection against her leg. “So loud and proud.”
Panting and laughing at his admiration for her, she gripped his hair and tugged him down to kiss her. Hard and messy and delving for the deepness of him. Heartbeats still thudding and the high fluttering away, she pushed up from him and gripped his cock. “My turn.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” He stood and pulled her into his arms, standing and swinging her over his shoulder in a smooth move. “Let’s take a shower.”
Half an hour later, wrapped in a towel and with wet hair tickling her shoulders, Mireio felt ever so satisfied. She brewed tea and fried up some vanilla cream French toast. She stirred honey into some mascarpone cheese to make a topping, sprinkled it with cinnamon and set the plate before Lars, who also wore but a towel.
“You spoil me,” he said, as he dug in with fork and knife. “Mercy, this is amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so good as when I’m being fed by you.”
“Food is love,” she said. “And I love you lots. More toast?”
He put up three fingers and she happily dipped more bread into the mix and fried the slices up for him while she ate one herself, standing before the stove.
Domesticity came easily to her. And now knowing she’d wake every morning next to the man she loved, well, life couldn’t be better. Add to that a sweet baby boy?
“So, uh...Sunday said something to me last night that confused me.”
“What’s that? I suppose I should head over and pick up Charlie. Hate to leave him there too long.”
“I’m so glad you’re going with Charlie. It fits him. But Sunday said that she and Dean would get custody of Charlie if anything should happen to you. Why would she think that?”
Lars set down his fork and looked aside. After a long draft of water he stood to walk around and lean against the counter opposite from the stove where she stood. “That’s not completely true.”
“But partially true?” Her heart thudded loudly.
“The pack has been pressuring me to change my will. They want to make sure they get Charlie when I die.”
“But why would you do that? Lars, I’m your wife. When I agreed to marry you I knew what I was doing. I knew that I was becoming Charlie’s stepmom. I adore him. I can take care of him if...well... Don’t you trust me?”
“You’re the best mom Charlie could ever have. I’ve had the will sitting out. But I’ve delayed calling a lawyer to make changes because of exactly this. Us. I know you would make an excellent mother to my boy. But...”
“But? But you’re still going to change the will?”
“I don’t know.” He raked his fingers through his wet hair. “Have you ever raised a werewolf?”
“No, but I’m sure I can learn.”
“Mireio, my boy could be an entirely different species from you. Don’t you think it best he be raised by a pack? His own kind?”
She eyed the browning toast in the frying pan, knowing it needed to be flipped. Sweet vanilla could not coax her from the sudden anxiety she felt tightening her jaws. “Is that what you want?”
“I honestly don’t know. It’s why I still haven’t made changes to the will. I need to think about it. Is that okay with you? I want to do what’s best for my Peanut.”
Affronted that he didn’t immediately fall in favor of her, Mireio cautioned her anger. He only wanted the best for his son. And a werewolf would thrive if brought up in a pack, living and learning among others of his kind. What could she, a witch, offer him?
On the other hand, no one knew if Charlie was actually werewolf. He could be human. And she could handle that fine.
But he was right. She needed to give him some space on this. Some time.
Lars reached around and grabbed the spatula and flipped the toast. The top side was burned. He bowed and kissed her softly, slowly. His mouth melted against hers, giving her the sweetness the vanilla promised. Had she been angry about something? And then he met her gaze, seeking, searching, asking without words.
She nodded. And he kissed her forehead and scooped the toast out to toss in the garbage. “Let me make the last few. You sit down and eat.”
So she did, because she was unsettled at learning she wasn’t her husband’s first choice to raise his son.
* * *
That night they sat out on the back porch. Fireflies fluttered in the garden above the jasmine and primrose. Cicadas droned in a nearby oak tree. And relaxing on the hammock with Charlie tucked between his arm and chest, Lars read the only thing he could find that wasn’t a spell book or a cookbook.
“Sign up now to receive your free toaster when you open an account,” he narrated to his son.
“I promise tomorrow I am getting some kid books,” Mireio said as she returned to the porch from the kitchen with apple ale for both of them. She set Lars’s on the wood floor beside the hammock, then curled into the big wicker chair that swallowed her with its wide white wings. “You just like to read, don’t you? Anything and everything.”
“I do. Finally found someone who will listen to me, so I’m going to take advantage of that.” He sat up and, gripping Charlie’s torso, dangled him over the summer grass so the infant could test his legs. He was in a bouncing phase. “I’m sorry about our talk earlier. I didn’t give you a chance. And I’ve been thinking about it. I’m swaying toward you for adopting Charlie. In fact, I called the county records department today, and there’s a form that needs to be signed for you to become his official parent.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, one issue, though. It needs the real mother’s signature.”
“Oh.” He read her pout and suspected she thought all hope was lost.
“I know she’ll do it. It’s just tra
cking her down and getting the paperwork to her and back to me that could be the challenge. I only know that she headed off to Africa.”
“What about her family?”
“We didn’t talk family trees or contact information during those two days we had our fling. And while she left me with a stack of legal documents, there wasn’t an address to contact her because, well, at the time, she was on the move.”
“Right.”
“But the birth certificate lists an address in Minneapolis.”
“Maybe you could start there to find a family member?”
“It’s an idea. But how do I do that? Show up at her mother’s door. Hey, I’m the guy who fathered your daughter’s son, whom you probably don’t even know about, and I want her to give me complete custody.”
“I’m sure her mother must know about it. Kinda hard to hide a pregnancy from your mom.”
“If she has a mom.”
“True. Do you have any computer hacker friends? They might be able to track her down somehow.”
“Computer hacker friends.” He chuckled. “Do I look like a guy who has friends like that?”
“No. Maybe Valor could give it a go. She’s always the one who fixes our computers when something goes wrong. She’s handy with a wrench and hammer, as well.”
“I could hire a skip tracer.”
“What’s that?”
“A person who tracks down people who don’t want to be found. It’s not as if she doesn’t want to be found. But it’s the same kind of situation.”
“You look into that. And I’ll ask Valor. Hey, Charlie, can you walk over to me?”
Lars led the boy who tested his feet forward, Charlie eagerly trying to get to Mireio’s outstretched hands. He wanted her to be his son’s mother. Forever. But he had to think of the pack too. And make sure his son got the best guidance through life. This was a tough decision.
And the fact that he even had to consider such a decision? Hell.
Mireio grabbed Charlie and swung him through the air. The boy giggled effusively. He had developed a full-throated belly laugh that always made them both laugh in kind.
“Oh!” She grimaced. “I know why you handed him over to me.”
“The one holding him gets to change him,” Lars teased. “I am busy reading.” He picked up another piece of junk mail and fanned it before his face.
“Fine. But that means I get to feed him his last bottle and tuck him in. So there.” She stuck out her tongue at him and wandered into the house.
Lars tossed the mail to the patio floor and sipped his ale. Life had never been better.
Chapter 26
Mireio woke to a strange sound. She couldn’t have been sleeping very long after that third orgasm had lulled her into a blissful, sighing slumber. But now she searched the dark room seeking what had sounded like a growl.
Standing near the bed was a shadowed, hulking figure that stomped the floor...with a paw.
“Oh, my goddess.”
Lars had shifted to werewolf.
And the baby, likely having been woken by the noise, was crying in his carrier on the floor.
“Lars!”
The werewolf glanced to her and growled. And then he howled a long and rangy sound that Mireio felt sure the whole neighborhood could hear. He stalked toward Charlie, bent to sniff at the infant, then swept a paw through the carrier handle and lifted the infant.
“Oh, no, Lars!” She stumbled off the bed, tangled in the sheets. “You can’t. He’s not strapped in!”
The werewolf snorted at her and took off down the stairs.
“Oh, shit!” She grabbed her night robe and tugged it on.
By the time she graced the top stair she heard the screen patio door open and swing shut. A glance outside saw Mrs. Henderson’s lights go on. Charlie wailed.
“Stop!” Mireio cried as she broached the patio and hit the grass at a run.
The werewolf had fled through the pasture that backed onto their neighborhood yards. The corn grew higher than her shoulders, but a werewolf should have no problem navigating it. But a baby, not strapped in...
“Oh, mercy!”
“Mireio!”
“Not now, Mrs. Henderson! He’s got the baby!”
“Who? The Sasquatch?”
“No! Uh...” She ran toward the corn. What to say? The last thing Mrs. Henderson needed to know was that Mireio had married a werewolf. Or even a Sasquatch, for that matter. “A stranger! I’ve got to get the baby.”
“I’m calling the police!”
Ah shit, that was not what she needed. Police and a werewolf? That could mean the end of Lars. The end of werewolves. The end of a reality where humans believed werewolves only existed in movies and books. She couldn’t let the police see Lars.
But more, she had to get to him before the baby was hurt. She knew Lars would never intentionally harm his son. But how much of his man’s mind could control his wolf brain when in werewolf shape?
She followed the path of trampled stalks through the cornfield, tracking the werewolf’s grunt up ahead. He was far off, his powerful legs moving him more swiftly than she could run. The long cutting corn leaves slashed across her face and bare legs. She tugged the night-robe over her naked body and tied it as she ran. Should have put on some shoes; the broken cornstalks proved rough to run over.
Charlie’s wails spurred her on and his cries grew louder and closer. She burst out into a clearing where the farmer must turn his tractor, for the cornstalks that lay broken down in an almost perfect circle. The werewolf stood before the baby carrier, which sat on the ground. Not toppled. And now Charlie had strangely settled, his wide eyes taking in the creature who loomed above him.
“I know you couldn’t help it,” Mireio said as she approached cautiously. She just wanted to get to the baby. Behind her, she heard police sirens in the distance. “You’ve got to shift back, Lars. Or get the hell out of here. Go!” She clapped her hands toward the werewolf and it cringed from her.
But then it growled and snapped. Actually snapped its teeth at her.
“I’m not afraid of you. I’m your wife, for goddess’s sake. Listen to me. If you want to protect yourself and your son, run!”
And of a sudden the werewolf’s head jerked to the side and then forward. His shoulder bent painfully backward as his legs bent and he fell to his knees—human-shaped knees. Lars shifted back to his were shape within three seconds. He crouched there on the crushed cornstalks, panting, naked.
Mireio rushed to Charlie and grabbed the carrier. “You have to go, Lars. Mrs. Henderson called the police and I can hear the sirens. Run...somewhere. I’ll leave clothes out in the backyard for you. Go! I’ll say whoever took the baby got away, but that doesn’t guarantee they won’t keep looking for the culprit. Please, Lars, go!”
He nodded and scampered off into the cornstalks.
She checked Charlie. He looked fine, though it was dark and there was no moonlight. Lars hadn’t shifted because of the full moon. He’d shifted because his body was mutinying and forcing him to surrender to his shift at the most inopportune times.
“Poor man.” She glanced down the path he’d taken, thinking he left a lighter trail now that he was no longer in werewolf shape. She hoped it would be an impossible trail to follow.
Wandering back the way she’d come, she met two police officers with guns pulled when she was about twenty feet from her backyard.
“Hands up!” one called.
“It’s me,” she answered, but she set down the baby carrier and put up her hands. The flashlight beams forced her to squint. “Don’t shoot! I’ve got the baby with me. I’m the stepmother. I woke up and heard someone leaving the house with the baby. I chased after the man and found the baby alone in the middle of the cornfield.”
“Keep your hands up, ma’am.”
The officers approached her. She’d never been more frightened. Not even a vicious werewolf could make her feel so vulnerable as standing before two men holding guns aimed at her.
“Which way did the intruder go, ma’am?”
She pointed down the path. “That way. But I think he’s long gone.”
“Let’s take a look,” one of the officers said to the other.
“You can take the baby inside, ma’am. We’ll be back to talk to you after we check this out.”
She nodded and picked up the carrier. Mrs. Henderson waited on the porch, wringing her hands. Her hair up in curlers, the elderly woman shrieked when she saw Mireio approach with the baby carrier. And that set Charlie into a new stream of wails.
“Oh, the poor boy,” the neighbor said. “The kidnapper got away? Why would someone do that? Was it someone you know? Where is Lars?”
“Lars is...at his cabin tonight. He worked on it all day and stayed over. Just me and Charlie here. And I have no idea why someone would do this. Must have been a burglary. I don’t own any valuables, so the intruder must have decided to take the baby instead. I need to go inside and see if I can get Charlie to calm down.”
“Do you need me to come in with you, dear?”
“No, Mrs. Henderson. Thank you for calling the police.” Not really. But, she had to play nice. “Go back to bed. The baby is safe—that’s all that matters.”
“All right, but I’ll come over in the morning to check on you two. You call your husband and have him come home right now.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
Inside the house Mireio poured herself some water and then picked up Charlie and paced the floor with him. He was wide-awake but no longer crying or frantic. That was a good sign. Could he have known that was his daddy who’d taken him on the crazy run through the cornfield?
“I hope he’s okay.” She glanced out the back screen door, spying the bobbling orbs from the police officer’s lights. With hope, they’d give up the search and mark it off as a failed kidnapping or maybe even drug-induced idiocy. “Please be safe, Lars.”
