Not for the first time since she’d palmed Peter’s share of the keys had she thought maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to move into the house. What if her bitterness toward him took away from her dream place?
What if, despite all her meticulous scrubbing, she couldn’t get past the image of Peter entwined in Candy Apple’s legs?
Annoyed at her train of thought, Anna went back to the SUV to get the shovel and hurried to return to her tree. Digging in the ground ought to be good therapy, a release of energy. She jabbed the shovel into the earth. Of course it dug in about an inch. The hardness of the ground didn’t bode well for her former thoughts of digging a quick hole and plopping a baby maple tree into it. Apparently she was going to have to put forth a bit more effort.
Licking her lips, she dug in again. The ground did not give this time either, and she let out a deep breath. There had to be something more pleasant than Peter to occupy her mind while she whittled away at the hard-packed dirt.
She turned her attention to the school where she’d be teaching first grade. This morning she’d filled out the paperwork and toured the building. There were only two months left in the school year, and Anna hoped, perhaps selfishly, that the teacher would decide being a mother trumped teaching. Surely raising a wolf shifter wasn’t particularly easy? She had no idea. The things she knew about the shifter race she could count on both hands. Which really meant next to nothing. She had a feeling she was in for a wild ride to say the least.
At first she’d worried about the wolf situation, especially with her being human, but she’d thought the challenge would do her good. And thankfully, she wasn’t the only human working there. The ratio, she’d been told, was about three-quarters wolf, the rest human. For both faculty and students. They’d hired her on the spot when she’d interviewed, and she had leaped on the chance. Apparently, finding someone to fill in at such a small school, not to mention integrated, had been a tough go. Seemed not too many outside teachers wanted to work in an area that was more wolf than human.
To her, it meant something new and working close enough to the lake house to actually live there. So here she was, digging a hole in ground that didn’t want to give up its earth.
Despite her excitement about starting teaching the next week, Anna found herself still angry about Peter. She stabbed the point of the shovel into the earth again and waited for the jarring of her body to subside. “Stupid rock. Stupid, hard ass rock. Stupid, hard-headed, asshole son-of-a-bitch. Who does he think he is?”
And there went the potty mouth again.
Anna sighed at her lack of self-control.
The cool air off the lake did nothing to abate the sweat rolling down her spine and wetting her underwear. Only March and already hot. The summer was going to be a doozy.
She jammed the shovel into the four-inch deep hole she’d finally managed and wished it were Peter’s head. This time the sharp tip actually penetrated, breaking through a stubborn rock to sink into softer earth beneath it.
Behind her, the house she’d come to love more than anything sat empty, devoid of a human’s touch since that moment of pure clarity.
Except for the shiny silver grill on the deck. She cocked her head as she contemplated it. Where the hell had that come from? Peter hated barbecue. And he certainly wouldn’t put forth the effort to actually cook.
Anna shook the thought off. Never mind. She’d simply bleach everything in sight before she brought her stuff in. That way there wouldn’t be a trace of Ms. Candy Apple’s DNA anywhere, and Anna could start fresh.
Another stab and she put all her weight into jumping on the shovel, taking immense satisfaction in feeling it submerge several good inches in the clay-like mud. A few more leaps on the shovel and she had a start to an actual hole.
“What are you doing?”
Anna yelped and spun at the deep male voice behind her. The guy was lucky her shovel was stuck in the mud or she might have swung it his direction.
“Shit. You scared the crap out of me.”
He didn’t look the least bit contrite. His hands were stuffed casually in the pockets of his khaki pants, wrinkled from a day’s work, and he’d pulled his blue paisley tie open so the ends hung open down his chest. Short dark hair stood on its end atop his head as if he’d spent the day running his fingers through it. Or maybe he liked spiky hair.
Whatever, the guy was holy hell, Batman hot. So hot she wondered if he was wolf. She’d heard wolf…men were graced with particularly stunning good looks. The way he sort of sniffed the air, a very strange look in his eyes, only supported her guess. Humans didn’t generally go around sniffing the wind. And he more than made her forget all about her cheating bastard of an ex.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” His pale hazel eyes—so pale they almost glowed—did not convey apology. “What are you doing?” he repeated.
She blew out a breath, puffing her bangs with the exhale. “Not what I really want to be doing.”
“Which would be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Digging a six by three foot hole and burying my ex alive.” She glanced at the hole and shrugged. “Or dead. Really doesn’t matter to me at the moment.” When the hell had she become such a bloodthirsty bitch?
Maybe yesterday when she’d received yet another bill in the mail for something he’d bought Candy Apple.
“Burying someone alive is a felony in most states.”
“Probably all of them, not that I give a shit. Bastard deserves anything he gets.”
“So what are you really doing?”
Anna looked at the stranger. Was he a complete moron? Were his good looks all he had going for him?
“Well.” She wanted to speak slowly for his benefit. “There’s a tree in a pot here and I’m digging a hole…”
“You’re planting a tree, I get it. What I’d like to know is, why here?”
“It’s my house. I didn’t know I had to have permission to plant a tree in my backyard. Who are you, anyway? The neighborhood police?”
“The police, yes. You’re on private property.”
“Uh, yeah, my own.”
He shook his head, hands still in his pockets. The man looked tired.
“This is my house, ma’am. And while I’d appreciate a nice shade tree back here, I can do it myself.”
“Pfft. Not sure what you’ve had to drink today, but this is my house, buddy. It was mine and my ex bastard husband’s who somehow got his snazzy pants lawyer to get the property split between us, as if we could share a house somehow, the moron. Now it’s mine. Since Friday. When he handed me his key and told me he didn’t want his half anymore. And why am I explaining this to you?”
The man straightened, his eyes widening a fraction, and something looking similar to surprise invaded his otherwise nonchalant features. Anna’s belly rolled a tad.
She yanked the shovel from its spot and leaned on it, narrowing her own eyes. “Who are you, anyway? Why are you on my property.”
He shifted his stance, and finally those hands came out of his pockets to be tucked under his arms when he crossed them over his chest.
“Detective Montross. I bought this place a month ago, lady.”
Every ounce of oxygen was sucked from the Earth in that split second. Spots swam in Anna’s vision and the ground wavered beneath her feet. “That’s not possible. I’m half owner. Owner now. We’ve owned it for six years. We bought it as an anniversary present, and if I hadn’t caught the lying, cheating bastard in bed with Candy Apple, we would still be using this as a weekend house. Maybe.” She ground her teeth in frustration.
One of his eyebrows rose to an impressive height. “Not anymore. The place went on the market a month ago. We snagged it the first day and moved in as soon as the papers were signed.”
“No. No.” It wasn’t possible. Unthinkable. Anna clenched the shovel’s handle until she was sure either her fingers or the wood would break. She scanned the house, the place she’d once taken great care in making her
own, at the barbecue she hadn’t recognized, and then back down at the spot she’d chosen for the tree. “I need a bigger hole.”
Anna threw the shovel down and stomped toward her car. “No good, weaselly, two-timing, skank fucking slimeball.” She slapped at her pockets for her keys, refusing to shed the tears threatening. “This is my home, goddamn it.” When she hit the gravel driveway she kicked at the rocks, sending them spraying across the drive to clink against her car.
“Ooh.” She jerked open the door, climbed in, and slammed the door shut. As she was backing out, she noticed Mr. Good Looking still standing in the same spot, staring at her. She rolled down the window on autopilot and yelled at him. “This isn’t settled. I will be back.” Her tires squealed when they hit the pavement, covering her muttered, “Right after I kill my ex.”
So much for being a nice little school teacher.
•●•
A bad feeling sank like a dumbbell through thick mud into Colton’s stomach as he watched the whirlwind storm off before peeling out of his driveway. Or, at least, what he’d thought of as his driveway until about three minutes ago. The second he’d gotten out of his car he’d smelled her, gotten hard from the scent, and known exactly what she was to him. And to Marc.
At first he’d thought Marc had brought her home. But Marc’s car wasn’t in the drive, which meant he wasn’t home yet. Then he’d heard muttering from the backyard and headed to the lake side of their home, only to find his soon-to-be mate digging a hole in his yard.
“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, and then turned and toed the burlap filled with a six-foot tree root ball. He didn’t know if he was more pissed about letting her go or wanting to kill her ex for her since he’d caused her so much pain. He guessed he shouldn’t worry about her leaving since he had a strong suspicion she wouldn’t back down about losing her house without a fight.
“You bought a tree? What, not enough mysteries to solve today, you thought you’d just plant a tree instead? In your suit?” Marc’s call from the deck overlooking the backyard and lake had Colton turning to face him.
He smiled and stalked up to the house, the sick feeling still well-entrenched in his gut. This house was his retreat. What he’d come to look forward to after dealing with the shittiness his job required. Being alpha of the entire race of shifters was much simpler than the things humans could and did do to each other. Not that shifters were innocent; they were simply handled in a different way.
He supposed he shouldn’t really worry about the house since the woman was their mate, and therefore, the house would actually always be hers. But, it would still be an issue until they could inform her of her future, not to mention convincing her to take the leap with them wouldn’t be a cake walk.
First things first, he had to let Marc know he’d met their mate. He and his half brother had bought the house knowing sooner or later they’d be sharing it with the one meant for them. He’d just never imagined his mate coming in the form of a shovel wielding, pissed off petite-framed pixie, but then what did it matter?
The thought brought another smile to his face.
“Yes, a tree. Thought we needed one right in that spot,” he said as he neared the four steps of the deck.
“Well, you’d think the nursery could send someone a little hardier to deliver it.” Marc’s eyes went wolf. “But fuck, she smelled insanely good. I swear I smelled her at the school today, and I know I’ve seen that ass.”
“She’s our mate.” They spoke at the same time. Colton did a double take and his gaze collided with Marc’s. “Wait, you’ve already met her and didn’t call me?”
“No, I said I smelled her. While I was teaching a class. But by the time I got the chance to hunt her down, she’d already gone. She’s the new teacher they hired to take over Cassandra’s spot in first grade. And I would have told you, but you haven’t been home the last two days, nor were you answering your cell.”
“You called me once.”
Marc shrugged. “Wasn’t anything to be done. She wasn’t there, and I didn’t want to jump to conclusions about her status until I had her in front of me in the flesh. Besides, you hate when I interrupt you. Rough case?”
Colton rubbed the back of his neck. “A murder. Got the guy to confess this morning. At least we’ll know where to find her,” he said, changing the topic back to their woman. “Don’t think doing so will be too hard, at least.” He stopped next to Marc at the railing and bent to rest his elbows on it. The small hole and the clump of earth next to it were clearly visible from their vantage point. The tree was the only thing keeping him from wondering if what had just happened had been some weird daydream. Not too often you find yourself mated to a woman you find planning to bury her ex in your backyard.
“So what was she doing in our yard?” Marc had a white-knuckle grip on the deck railing as if trying to prevent himself from going after her that very second.
“She said she was planting a tree, although it clearly sounded as if she wished she were planting a body.”
“Uh-oh. Who’d you piss off?”
“Not me, little brother.” Colton stood, crossed his arms over his chest, and rested his hip on the rail. “But we have a problem.”
One of Marc’s eyebrows rose. “And what would that be?”
“Seems our mate thinks this is her house.”
“My mortgage payment begs to differ, not that it matters since she can move in tonight, as far as I’m concerned. It’ll make things with us easier all around, don’t you think?” Marc took a similar pose, facing Colton, the sleeves of his navy T-shirt bunching beneath his biceps.
“I agree. However, she was apparently half owner through a divorce and didn’t seem to have any clue the property had been sold from underneath her. She was a mite pissed. And if she sees us as interlopers…”
“And the little fact we’re going to have a hell of a time convincing our little human she’s our mate. Wait a minute. Divorce? Half? But how could they sell a house without both owners being part of the sale?”
“Exactly.” Which is why the pit of despair remained nestled in Colton’s stomach.
“Doesn’t matter,” Marc repeated. “She can have the house. As long as we’re in it too.” He retreated inside. “I’ll even plant her tree.”
Colton followed, a grin on his face at the petulance of Marc’s demeanor. He took the bottle of Bud his brother offered from their refrigerator, plucked the cap off, and tossed it toward the trash.
“You can talk to her about it next Monday when you see her. I may have to stop by for some of that fabulous school lunch myself.”
They’d found her. He wasn’t about to let her get away.
His wolf agreed wholeheartedly, begging to be released so he could find her and make her theirs now.
He just wasn’t sure he could wait another week until he had a chance to see her.
Chapter Two
Anna drove blindly, not even stopping to think about having to drive all the way to Kansas City to speak to her lawyer in person when she should just call him. She needed something physical to do anyway to keep her mind from wandering to the image of her choking him until his face turned tomato red and his eyes bulged. Rage seethed in her belly. The scoundrel. How in hell did Peter think he would get away with it? He wouldn’t. No way, no how. She had not signed any papers giving away her house. Wouldn’t have in a million years. Which meant the asshole had illegally signed it for her. She hoped he rotted in jail because she would most certainly be pressing charges. She’d known there was no way he would have just given her the house for nothing. The asshole had known all along it didn’t belong to her anymore. This was his way of getting back at her for, God forbid, divorcing him. You’d have thought she was the bad guy based on the look of shock on his face when she’d given him those papers.
As if.
Maybe she’d call Peter instead. Give him a piece of her mind before she saw him. Like how he’d sneakily and backhandedly sold her house ou
t from underneath her and then, in his snide way, given her the keys just to rub it all in her face. She punched his number into her phone and then felt an instant wave of guilt for driving angry and using the phone. The anger exploded exponentially into blind rage when she got the well-known tones signaling a disconnected number.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She threw the phone onto the passenger seat as she fishtailed onto the two-lane country highway. It bounced once, banked off the door panel, and thudded to the floorboards.
“Great. Goes right along with the rest of this crappy day. Probably broke the damn thing. And you’ll pay for a new phone too, Peter.”
She was so focused on her ex that she didn’t notice the police car pull out behind her and flip his lights on. It wasn’t until the siren sounded, scaring the crap out of her, that she saw him.
“Goddamn it.” Anna slapped the steering wheel and looked at her speedometer. Seventy-six. What was the speed limit anyway? Now on top of her homeless future, she had to deal with a speeding ticket. “Perfect.”
She pulled onto the shoulder and came to a stop, her jaw hurting with the force she put on her teeth. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed the stern-faced cop talking into a mic on his shoulder. Great. Didn’t look she’d be able to talk her way out of anything with Mr. Personality. Could the day get any shittier? How had she gone from new job and endless possibilities to wanting to kill Peter and speeding tickets?
Anna unbuckled, rolled down the window, and reached across the console to grab her bag off the floor. Might as well find her license, registration, insurance, and permission for her first born. The quicker she got through this, the quicker she could get to her lawyer. It’d be just her luck she’d get there and he’d be gone for the day already.
Overcome Page 2
