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Adams, Cara - The Wolves Catch Their Attorney [Shape-Shifter Clinic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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by Cara Adams


  * * * *

  Fergus was well aware that finding out whether or not Sierra really was interested in spending time with him and Cam, and whether or not they were all a good match, was going to be immeasurably harder than just a regular date. For a start, Sierra was not only smart, but her lifestyle involved hiding her feelings and only showing on her face and in her body language what the people watching her were expecting to see and wanting to hear.

  So how the fuck was he, a humble wolf, supposed to crack her shell and get under her skin enough to know whether or not she really liked them and was interested in exploring the concept of having a relationship?

  She would be very used to controlling her anger and focusing her energies and she would undoubtedly also ensure alcohol didn’t affect her decision making, so the best tactic would be making her happy and getting her laughing and relaxed. Although it was possible, she would still be very controlled. To know what she was like though, he really needed her to be herself. But then again, maybe being so very controlled, as she’d been at the clinic, was her being herself. It was hard to know. But he was going with the happiness theory for now.

  With that in mind he sat down to think about how to have her relaxed and talking to them, really talking. Again it was tough, but he hoped he had some ideas at least.

  Maintaining the theory of being themselves, he didn’t ask Cam what he planned to wear. He simply wore what he felt comfortable in for the evening. Since it was a casual sort of place, for him that meant nice jeans and a blue button-down shirt. Also, he and Cam lived on opposite sides of town, so carpooling didn’t really make much sense. He arrived ten minutes early, parked in the parking lot, then lounged against a tree right at the entry to Daisy’s.

  Even the entry didn’t look like a store. The entire area was fenced with bamboo and lattices, with plants growing from it, over it, around it, and on it, so the actual entry looked more like walking into someone’s private garden than into a store. Entire sections of the property weren’t even roofed, but the plants were out in the fresh air. Well, he guessed that was where plants normally grew, but what did they do when it snowed? It was only when he looked more closely he saw many of the plants were in pots. Well there was his answer. Likely they were brought inside before it got too cold out of doors.

  Promptly at eight he saw Sierra’s candy-apple-red car pull into the parking lot and in seconds she was walking toward him, her body outlined in a formfitting, hip-length brown jacket over a golden shirt, and a brown skirt matching the jacket covered her to her sandaled feet.

  He wondered whether her bruises were still obvious so she was hiding them, or whether her arm was still sore, or whether these were the kind of clothes she usually wore. Any way he tried to understand it, the clothes looked good on her and brown and gold suited her with her dark brown hair and amber eyes.

  And only a few paces behind her was Cam, who must have been waiting in his car, or had arrived almost simultaneously with her. Cam was wearing beige cargo pants and a deep-blue T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest, shoulders, and arms. It was good they’d all arrived. It was time to get this party moving.

  He would have liked to tuck her hand through his arm, but didn’t know her well enough to touch her, plus there was the possibility her arm was still sore, so he contented himself with giving her a tiny half bow as he said hi.

  She smiled at him and her eyes were bright and sparkling, so he hoped that meant she was happy.

  “Do you want to walk around looking at the plants first, or would you prefer to order your food first and then look at the displays while we wait for our meal?” he asked.

  “I’m a proponent of multitasking. Let’s order and then wander around the store while we wait for the meal,” she said.

  “I’m glad you chose that option. I’m hungry,” said Cam.

  They all laughed as they made their way along winding paths through what seemed like a forest of plants into the restaurant.

  The server seated them and Fergus explained what they wanted. Just as he’d expected, Sierra read through the menu in two minutes and made her choice. Since for him it was all about spending time with these two people, he was happy enough with the second item on the menu and chose that. Cam was just as quick, picking the vegetarian option.

  “We plan to walk around outside while we wait,” said Fergus.

  “Yes, Sir, many of our guests do that. The meals you’ve chosen should be ready in twenty minutes.”

  “Excellent. We’ll be back in nineteen,” said Cam.

  “You really are hungry,” teased Sierra.

  “I’m just a growing boy,” replied Cam, batting big brown eyes at her in an exaggerated way.

  Fergus laughed and Sierra shook her head at them.

  They walked slowly along the narrow winding paths, stopping to admire the flowers that appealed to them, discussing colors, shrubs, trees as they went.

  “It’s amazing we can see so well. These little lights down at ankle level only seem as bright as candles,” said Cam.

  Fergus looked up. “There are much bigger lights on the sides of the building though. See how they reflect off the roofed areas,” he explained.

  “There are more lights hidden between the plants, too. There are a lot more light sources than anyone would notice at first glance,” pointed out Sierra.

  Fergus glanced at his watch and led them around another path heading back toward the restaurant.

  Sierra stopped before a row of plants in the most amazing colors—bright pink, red, orange, even blue, and purple. “Gerbera daisies. Ambrielle had some of these. I’d never seen anything like them until then. They’re amazing,” Sierra said, gently touching one yellow petal.

  “Chrysanthemums have a lot of colors, too, but perhaps the daisies are brighter, stronger colors,” said Cam.

  Arguing happily about various flowers and their colors, they made their way back to the restaurant, sitting down exactly nineteen minutes after they’d left.

  Their server came over with a grin on his face. “Nineteen minutes precisely, Sir. Your meal will be served immediately.”

  Fergus had prepared some conversation-starter ideas, but they weren’t needed. The three of them segued from topic to topic all evening, talking, debating, agreeing, disagreeing, but each of them stating their ideas freely and being listened to seriously. Fergus was amazed at how well the evening went. There were no deathly silences. No moments when he might have thought something inappropriate or somewhat unkind was said. He couldn’t have orchestrated it better as a scene if he’d wanted to. Yet he felt sure everyone was relaxed and being themselves. Of course, he and Cam had worked together very closely for six months now and knew each other well, trusted each other completely. And Sierra more or less talked for a living, but at no time did she push her own views any more than either of them did. She stated her opinions and they talked, that was all.

  She’s perfect for us. Absolutely perfect. Beautiful, kind, intelligent, and I really think she likes us. Our ideas, our worldviews, fit well together.

  As the coffee was served there was a break in the conversation. He looked at Sierra and then at Cam. “I’ve enjoyed this evening, very much.”

  “I have, too. Thank you for inviting me here,” Sierra said.

  “I’d like to do it again. Soon,” he continued.

  “Is there an evening you regularly have free? I mean that you don’t have to work?” asked Cam.

  “It’s not like that. If one of my cases is going to court in the morning I’m almost always working the night before preparing for it.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it this way. When is your next free evening? If you’d like to go out with us again, that is?” Suddenly he hoped he wasn’t mistaking good manners for her pleasure in their company. But surely he’d have been able to tell. She’d really seemed to be enjoying herself, to be genuinely happy.

  She took her cell phone out of her purse and clicked through a few screens. “Hmm. I have a major
case starting in two days. I’m not sure how long it’ll take. But a week today should be fine.”

  “That far away?” Cam turned his big brown eyes on Sierra again. This time Fergus guessed he was aiming for “sad puppy” rather than “innocent adolescent,” but Sierra didn’t do more than smile at him.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll text you with the details. What’s your cell phone number? Your number was blocked when you answered me last time,” said Fergus.

  “I don’t give out my private details on a first date. Whatever method you used to contact me this time will most likely work next time as well, unless I have an unexpected court appearance, in which case I’ll contact you and let you know.”

  She was very quick. It hadn’t taken her more than a nanosecond to decide not to tell him her cell number. Oh well, he’d talk to her secretary again. She seemed a nice, helpful woman. But no one could outshine Sierra in his mind. She was stunning.

  Fergus and Cam waited side by side as she drove out of the parking lot.

  “I really like her, even if she didn’t give us her cell phone number. But she did say this was a first date, so it’s not all doom and gloom,” said Cam.

  “Yes I noticed she said it was a date, too. That has to be really positive. She must go to a million events. She could easily have used another word. But what I liked most was how natural we all felt together. More like old friends than new acquaintances.”

  “Exactly. Now how soon can we get her into the dungeon and into bed?”

  “Damn good question. I wish I knew an equally good answer for it.” I’ll think of something though.

  * * * *

  When Cam had finished his nursing course he’d rented a tiny apartment in town. After years of sharing a student house with an ever-changing group of students who drank his coffee, ate his vegetables, borrowed his DVDs, and even wore his shirts, he was ready to have a place where what he put in his room stayed in his room. He was also looking forward to silence at midnight instead of at noon. The only problem was, it could get lonely. Yes, it was wonderful to come home and find his favorite DVDs still on the shelf in his room, and the food he’d bought still in the refrigerator, but he missed the laughter, the boisterous games, even the loud music. Though it was good being able to sleep without having to put the pillow over his head to deaden the noise.

  So he really was ready to explore a relationship. Not just for the sex, although that would be excellent, too, but for companionship, and friendship. All the things that went with being part of a family. His mother had passed on. His father had done his best to support his wife though her illness, and to rear his two teenagers alone, but it had taken a toll on his health, too. He’d looked as if he were sixty before he turned forty and he was worn out, dead of exhaustion and stress by fifty.

  Cam’s sister had hit the backpacking trail, heading through Mexico, then South America. He Facebooked her from time to time, and every month or so she stopped somewhere with free Wi-Fi and sent him photographs of where she’d been, and caught up with his news. She showed no signs of coming home again, but she was happy, so Cam was happy for her.

  But it meant that he was alone. And even a house full of noisy roommates couldn’t change that. A relationship with someone special, or two someones special, was what he needed. He needed a Dom he could respect and a woman he could love. He did respect Fergus. The man had swiftly become his best friend, and Cam was ready to enter a Dom/sub relationship with him. He knew Fergus would care for him and open his mind and heart wider to the lifestyle he was eager to learn more about.

  But was Sierra the correct women for them both? She had brains and beauty, there was no denying that. But after one short date there was no way he could tell if they would be happy together. She’d been a wonderful companion, a great guest, but maybe that was just her personal relationship skills, not that there was any meaning behind them. Having to wait a whole week to see her again was going to be hard. Perhaps he should spend his time doing some soul searching. Working out not what he wanted in a woman, but what he could offer a woman. What skills and abilities and characteristics did he have to help make someone else’s life more worth living?

  Not much actually. He did genuinely care about people. He truly hated to see them in pain. But then, so did Fergus and likely Fergus was a better nurse than him. Also he was still a little awkward around humans and Sierra was human. The people he’d shared a house with as he’d studied had been other wolves. The house was owned by a large pack from out of town, and had been purchased so that any young people coming to town to study would be able to live with other shape-shifters. Which had been great for him, especially since he was studying a course with mostly women and mostly humans. But it meant he hadn’t actually bothered to learn much about humans and their preferences. Well, except what he’d learned in his studies. But not real-life-applicable things like how to pleasure a human. Stuff he might need to know by next week.

  Likely it’s time to reread my anatomy textbook. Nope, the anatomy hasn’t changed. It’s the mental thoughts and feelings I’m going to not understand. And how can I study them?

  * * * *

  Sierra set the treadmill and began running. This was the only time of day she had to think about her personal life and she needed to think about Fergus and Campbell. She’d agreed to a second date with them. Did she like them both? Was she seriously considering getting involved with two men at once? A ménage. Two wolves! I need to see a therapist, I’m obviously insane.

  Ménages aren’t so uncommon. Isn’t half the state of Utah members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and don’t some of them practice polygamy? And some people from Muslim countries do, too.

  “However, this is Ohio, not Utah, and it’s not a Muslim country either. Plus those religions usually have one man with several women, not one woman with two men.”

  But Tibet, Bhutan, and Nepal all have communities that practice polyandry, and the heroine of that old movie, Paint Your Wagon, ended up marrying both men for a while.

  “Okay so there’s a legal precedent.”

  She felt a smile breaking out across her face. Here she was trying to sort out her private life and she was still arguing with herself as if she was in court facing the judge and the prosecutor.

  But this’s how I prepare myself for court all the time.

  Sierra concentrated on keeping her breathing even as she ran and on not speaking aloud anymore. This was a public gym not her private office where she could argue with herself because no one would ever know. Someone at the gym might actually hear her and that was not what she wanted to happen. Besides, she was almost certain the same men who hated her to win in court would use any knowledge that she was involved in a ménage against her in some way. If she decided to continue exploring a relationship with two men she’d need to keep very quiet about just exactly how intimate they were becoming. A woman could have any number of friends and admirers. But if she slept with more than one man she was liable to be labeled a whore, Elizabeth in Paint Your Wagon notwithstanding.

  However, she had proven to herself that ménages might be a little unusual, but they happened today and had happened for hundreds of years. A ménage with one human and two wolves was a little different though. That raised the situation into a whole new level of complicated. She knew she couldn’t “catch” the werewolf gene. All those old B-grade movies with people being bitten by a werewolf and going mad under a full moon were not true. The werewolf gene was given by a parent to a child just like the eye-color gene or the gene for long fingers and toes.

  And Ambrielle, who is human, is living with two wolves, and is very happy.

  Okay, it seemed her mind was ready to start adjusting to the idea of a ménage between herself and two male werewolves. Well, as long as the actual details of the relationship were hidden from the world in general and her competitors and clients in particular. Which brought her back to the more basic level. Did she like these two men? Did sh
e want to spend her precious free time with them when she could be working toward the partnership in the company which meant everything to her?

  Ah, that was a bit more difficult. She definitely liked them. Fergus was a good nurse and a fascinating dinner companion. Cam had a lighter spirit, and was more inclined to make jokes and tease, but he was an excellent dinner companion, too. If they’d been her table companions at some of the formal events she’d sat through this past year she would have had a much better time than had actually happened. She would have enjoyed the functions instead of suffering through them at the very least.

  So, at this point in time, I’m prepared to move on toward the idea of a ménage, with two wolves, who happen to be Cam and Fergus. Is that correct?

  Sierra switched the treadmill off and stood still. Yes, I think so. They’re both extremely good looking. They’re entertaining to talk to. They struck me as caring and sensible people. But I’m not going into the dungeon or into bed with them yet. I need at least a couple more dates first to ensure I haven’t misjudged them, and to give them time to show their true personalities if they’re just messing with my head right now. The last thing I need is a video of my naked ass being whipped up on YouTube. I’d never make partner then.

  Satisfied with her decision, Sierra ran across to the stationary bicycles, climbed up on one, and began pedaling as fast as she could. Today was a workday and she had so much to do. She had no more time to waste on personal issues. It was time to plan her next case.

  * * * *

  Several weeks had passed since Sierra had requested that Harry Harrison, a six-foot-four-inch former policeman turned private detective, look into George Thorne’s attorney’s background. She’d had one of her paralegals give her the information on him in various legal directories, but apart from telling her that he’d graduated in the middle of his class ten years before she’d passed the bar exam, it really didn’t give her the kind of answers she was after. Answers such as the type of client he frequently represented.

 

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