Kendall's Mates

by Munro, Shelley

  Something big—huge—bounded from the nearby sitting room. Cassie screamed as a second jumped at her with a panicked baa.

  “Cassie? Are you okay? Holy Hannah. Where did those sheep come from?”

  On hands and knees, Cassie peeked into the sitting room and saw it was clear of sheep. “The door wasn’t locked.” She groaned as she shoved herself upright.

  “Is the back door open?”

  “Let’s see.” Cassie picked her way down the passage and stepped over a soldier-straight line of beer cans, her heart breaking at the destruction. Witty curses in lime-green spray-paint adorned the walls. Sheep manure peppered the faded blue carpet. A sheep—well, a lamb, since it was small—leaped through the kitchen doorway and disappeared through an open door. “Mystery solved.” She shut the door.

  “Wait, we’d better check all the rooms.”

  “Good point.” Cassie turned and stood in poop. “Ugh, my favorite shoes.”

  They searched for more sheep but, luckily, they’d departed en masse.

  “Cassie, you can’t stay here tonight.”

  “No.” Cassie sighed, slumping as she watched five sheep burst through a gap in the fence and disappear. “The place needs TLC first. Since we’re here, I’d like to make a list of what needs doing. I have paper and pen in the SUV.”

  “Still resisting computers?”

  “Digital has its place. I use phones. I read e-books. I Google as much as the next girl, but the tactile sensations of paper and pen helps me to focus.”

  Emma laughed, her blue eyes alight with mischief. Happiness and contentment radiated from her, and without warning, an envy-bomb pierced Cassie’s chest, so painful she rubbed the spot. Comparisons sprang to mind, a woe-is-me attitude shoving forward like a whiny child. Heck…

  Aghast at the surge of jealousy, Cassie forced a pained grin and fled to collect her notebook while bitch-slapping her shrill inner child.

  “Most of the mess and damage inside is superficial,” Emma said on her return. “Painting and cleaning up the rubbish. I rang Jack. He said he wouldn’t mind oysters and wasn’t busy. He’s bringing Hone with him.”

  “Who’s Hone? I don’t remember you mentioning him.”

  “He’s George’s oldest son. Hone works at George Taniwha and Sons with us.”

  “He’s a private investigator too?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry. You’ll like him. Where do you want to start?”

  Cassie, who after her harsh self-lecture had re-entered the friend mindset, scanned the kitchen. “Might as well start here. New kitchen units, definitely. It’s a spacious room. Grandma always used to have a table. I have no idea what happened to that.” She jotted in bullet points. Table. Units. Breakfast bar?

  “The place has good bones. You’ll need to chuck the carpet since the sheep have made a mess. Should we pull up a piece to see if you have wooden floorboards?”

  With those words of encouragement, Cassie’s residual envy slipped away, and excitement replaced the destructive emotion. Grandad had never updated, especially after her grandmother died. A project might settle the angst that had trailed her during her last tour. At the very least it would give her a base to use when she wanted to recharge.

  * * * * *

  “That was Emma. Her friend’s house is a mess, and she asked if I’d mow the long grass for her.” Jack speared his spade into the ground. He ran a hand through his straight black hair, cut on a regular basis now that he’d married Emma, and picked up his black T-shirt. “I said I’d go and help. You want to come?”

  “Why? That sounds like more work. Why are you digging up perfectly good lawn again?”

  “Emma wants a vegetable garden.”

  Hone stretched, not minding the physical labor, but complaining for form’s sake. He grounded his spade and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

  “Emma’s friend is paying in oysters.”

  Hone reached for his T-shirt. “I haven’t had a feed of shellfish for ages. Where are we going?”

  “Clevedon. We can hit the beach once we’re finished. If the tide is right, we can collect cockles at Kawakawa bay.”

  “Throw in a beer at the pub and you’re on.”

  Jack eyed him. “You look disgustingly satisfied. Thought you’d complain more or say you have a hot date.”

  “Nope. At present, my taniwha is a lazy slug. You have Emma to satiate your dragon’s appetite for sex. I had the Geraldine twins. Many times,” he added with a wink.

  “Hell. Don’t tell Emma.”

  Hone shrugged. “So shoot me. My taniwha and I love sex. Full moon last night. I needed the sex to maintain control. Aunt June doesn’t approve of dragons flying through the sky letting off flares of fire. Says it upsets the authorities. Dad reiterates, so it’s either rebellion or sex since Manu’s invention isn’t working yet.”

  “Yeah, sucks being a taniwha sometimes. At least I can swim if necessary, and Emma knows what to do if that ever happens.”

  “You’re a lucky man.” Nothing less than the truth, but Hone didn’t add the rest of his thoughts. He loved sex and wouldn’t apologize for it, but at the back of his mind, he’d started to yearn for more. A partner with whom he could be himself. That hadn’t, however, stopped him trotting out his rules to every woman he dated.

  One—technically he didn’t date and what he had was fun, consensual encounters.

  Two—leave them as friends. No drama and angst that way.

  And three—make rules clear at the start.

  Jack turned toward his garden shed. “I’ll load the mower.”

  His friend pulled Hone’s mind from women and rules. “If the grass is long, a slasher might work better. A chainsaw might come in handy. Stop at home on the way. Dad won’t mind if we borrow his tools.”

  Jack’s phone rang. Emma again. Hone heard her sultry voice as she spoke to Jack. Something to pry up old carpet and mouse traps.

  Soon, they were on their way to Clevedon.

  As always, leaving the city excited his taniwha, but after the indulgences of sex in many positions, it wasn’t difficult to keep his human form. Instead, he opened the passenger side window and stuck out his head, inhaling the fresher country air.

  Jack shot him the look, his dark brows scrunched in disapproval. “Quit acting like a dog.”

  Hone let the insult roll right off him, content with his world. “Does Emma’s friend realize how many oysters we’ll eat?”

  “Behave,” Jack warned. “Cassie and Emma have been friends since they were in primary school.”

  “She know about taniwhas?” He held up a hand and spoke before Jack could reply. “Scratch that. Emma wouldn’t blab.” Hone stuck his head farther out the window and dragged in myriad country scents—animals, grass, trees, a few people—ignoring Jack’s grumbles to delight in the crisp air.

  Jack drove fast but with expert control and the journey didn’t take long.

  Hone straightened, his eyes narrowing at the idea of a woman—any woman—living in such isolation. “This place is in the middle of nowhere.”

  “This place is a dump.” Jack stated the obvious as he parked beside a red SUV.

  Hone studied the wooden bungalow. The building had a sturdy frame. Sure, it was missing a few boards and needed repainting. “It will be better once the grass is cut. You go and tell Emma we’re here and I’ll start unloading. Glad we brought the chainsaw. Those trees will need trimming. Take away the gloom.”

  “Might take more. Depends what the inside is like.” Jack climbed from the vehicle, his ground-eating steps taking him to the door.

  Hone, used to Jack and his abruptness, didn’t take offense. He set to work unloading the mower and tools. The thump of Jack’s knock on the door, his call and the feminine response brought warmth to Hone’s heart, a sense of rightness. At one time, he’d considered hooking up with Emma, but anyone but an idiot could see she wanted Jack. Hell, Jack had been an idiot. Oblivious until a case on Waiheke Island in the Hauraki Gulf had for
ced them together. Add in a full moon, and Jack hadn’t stood a chance.

  Not that his friend seemed unhappy. Emma was good for Jack, jerking him from his taciturn behavior. These days, he smiled more readily, behaved more human.

  Hone adjusted the mower to a high setting, ripped off his T-shirt and began his attack on the long grass. No need for a catcher. Hopefully, the mower wouldn’t have a spastic attack and refuse to work.

  He started on the right-hand side and discovered an overgrown concrete path on his third round of the lawn. The sun beat down overhead, and he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow with his forearm. Jack trotted outside with Emma and another woman. Emma waved and he returned the greeting. He recommenced his mowing pattern.

  Jack said something to the women and strode to his work vehicle. He handed Emma a hammer and a crowbar. Hone chortled as Jack offered a comment to his wife. Advice probably. Emma with tools. He couldn’t wait to see what she intended to do with those.

  On his next circuit, Jack gestured at the trees. The friend nodded, and she and Emma retreated. Jack hadn’t mentioned the friend was attractive, although to be honest, he hadn’t asked because an innocent question might make Emma consider matchmaking. Women did that stuff. Not gonna happen.

  But from what he could see, the friend rocked some serious curves. Not as tall as Emma, which meant she would reach his shoulders in height. Long black hair gathered in a messy ponytail. Too far away to see the minute details, such as did she have freckles or white teeth or an agreeable scent. Not that it mattered. A short-term involvement with the friend would make his interaction with Emma difficult and would piss off Jack.

  Yeah, he’d quell his natural inclination to flirt. Keep his boots firmly planted in the friend zone.

  Will Hone manage to keep his mitts off those sexy curves? Learn more here

  About Shelley

  USA Today bestselling author Shelley Munro lives in Auckland, the City of Sails, with her husband and a cheeky Jack Russell/mystery breed puppy.

  Typical New Zealanders, Shelley and her husband left home for their big OE soon after they married (translation of New Zealand speak – big overseas experience). A twelve-month long adventure lengthened to six years of roaming the world. Enduring memories include being almost sat on by a mountain gorilla in Rwanda, lazing on white sandy beaches in India, whale watching in Alaska, searching for leprechauns in Ireland, and dealing with ghosts in an English pub.

  While travel is still a big attraction, these days Shelley is most likely found in front of her computer following another love – that of writing stories of contemporary and paranormal romance and adventure. Other interests include watching rugby (strictly for research purposes), cycling, baking bread and curling up with an enjoyable book.

  Visit Shelley at her website.

  Join Shelley’s newsletter.

  Visit Shelley’s Facebook author page.

  Follow Shelley at BookBub.

  Follow Shelley at Amazon.

  Other Books by Shelley

  Paranormal

  Sea of Change

  Price of Love

  Lynx to the Pharaoh

  Curse of Brandon Lupinus

  Churchill Polar Bears

  Fiona’s Mates

  Kendall’s Mates

  Renee’s Mates

  Dragon Investigators

  Blue Moon Dragon

  Blood Moon Dragon

  Middlemarch Capture

  Snared by Saber

  Favored by Felix

  Lost with Leo

  Spellbound with Sly

  Bundle

  Middlemarch Capture

  Middlemarch Shifters

  My Scarlet Woman

  My Younger Lover

  My Peeping Tom

  My Assassin

  My Estranged Lover

  My Feline Protector

  My Determined Suitor

  My Cat Burglar

  My Stray Cat

  My Second Chance

  My Plan B

  My Cat Nap

  My Romantic Tangle

  My Blue Lady

  My Twin Trouble

  Bundle

  Middlemarch Shifters 1 – 3

  Middlemarch Shifters 4 - 6

  House of the Cat series

  Sampled & Seduced

  Captured & Seduced

  Claimed & Seduced

  Merry & Seduced

  Stranded & Seduced

  Seized & Seduced

  Hunted & Seduced

  Festive & Seduced

  Betrayed & Seduced

  Enticed & Seduced

  Bundle

  House of the Cat

  Contemporary

  Wild Child

  Cat Burglar in Training

  One Night of Misbehavior

  Blindside

  Fringe Benefits

  Lovers at Last

  Ain’t Misbehaving

  Playing to Win

  Summer Encounter

  Reformed Bad Girl

  Stranger Things Happen

  Fancy Free

  Protection

  Romp

  Buzz

  Friendship Chronicles

  Secret Lovers

  Reunited Lovers

  Clandestine Lovers

  Part-Time Lovers

  Enemy Lovers

  Military Men

  Innocent Next Door

  Soldiers with Benefits

  Safeguarding Sorrel

  Bundle

  Military Men

  Sci-fi/Futuristic

  Interplanetary Love

  Sex Idol

  Alien Encounter series

  Janaya

  Hinekiri

  Alexandre

  Bundle

  Alien Encounter

  Gay Romance

  No Defense

  Best Man

  Last Wish

  Curse Across Time

  Eye on the Ball

  Fallen Idol

  Lone Wolf

  Seeking Kokopelli

  Historical

  The Spurned Viscountess

  Evening Tryst

  Unforgettable

  Mistress of Merrivale

  Copyright Page

  Kendall’s Mates

  Copyright © 2018 Shelley Munro

  ISBN: 978-0-473-45346-6

  Cover Design by Frauke Spanuth of Octopi Covers

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Shelley Munro