She glanced at her watch. Mimi had said the baby would come “tomorrow,” and in true Mimi form, it was just after midnight.
Melinda shoved off the wall and padded down the hallway. She had no idea where her shoes had gone. Hopefully someone grabbed them from the yard earlier.
When she rounded the corner and stepped into the great room, she stopped and soaked in the view. Keegan and Trace turned from the front window to face her. Their expressions were serious.
It didn’t escape her notice that they were enormous presences in any room, both of them pushing six feet while she barely reached five feet on a good day.
Keegan spoke first. “I hear crying.”
“Yep. It’s a girl. They named her McKenna.”
“Ten fingers? Ten toes?” Trace asked.
Melinda nodded.
“You must be exhausted.” Trace made the first move to step in her direction.
She shrugged. “I didn’t do any of the work.” She glanced down at her dress. It wasn’t even wrinkled. “My job was to hold Rebecca’s hand and provide moral support. I’m pretty sure Miles and Griffen paced a hole in the new carpet, though.”
Trace laughed. “Imagine that. My brother. A father.”
Keegan reached for her hand. “How did you know the baby was coming? You started running even before Carlie called for you outside.”
Melinda lifted her face to meet his gaze. She glanced back and forth between Trace and Keegan. “I’m intuitive.” She shrugged, not wanting to have this conversation right then.
“Griffen told us you have a gift.” Keegan squeezed her hand. “I’m looking forward to learning more about it.”
“You will. Trust me.” Melinda glanced around. They were the only three left in the great room. It was spotless. Her mother and Trace’s mother must have spent the entire time cleaning up from the party while bonding. Already there was no evidence anyone had been there. All grandparents had made their way toward the baby as soon as the wailing began.
“Is there anything else you need to do, hon?” Keegan asked.
Melinda blew out a breath and shook her head. The tight ball in her stomach gripped tighter as she watched the concern on his face. They’d just met. For their species, it was a done deal, but it still unnerved her.
Even though both men treated her with such consideration, she was scared out of her mind.
“Are you okay with going back to my house?” Keegan continued. If she wasn’t mistaken, he held his breath after he spoke.
Melinda was a ball of nerves. On the one hand, of course she was going with them. She was going anywhere they wanted to take her for as long as they wanted to stay there.
On the other hand, she’d never been more stressed in her life. Most importantly, she had a secret to divulge that was going to make both men’s eyes widen with disbelief. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but there was no way to avoid it either. One way or another, she had to tell them.
She nodded.
Trace reached her first and took her hand gently. He gave a light tug and lured her toward the front door. “Keegan has his own house just south of Cambridge. I live in town in a condo with my brother Zach. Doubtful we’ll go back there anytime soon.”
“I should go by my place and get some things. But that would be kind of a long drive in the wrong direction…” She thought about this for a second and realized there was no way she could sit in a trapped car with these two men that long. It would kill all three of them.
“Whatever you need, we’ll get it tomorrow, or run out to a store.” Trace squeezed her hand tighter and pulled her closer.
“Okay.” She nodded. “Did anyone grab my shoes?” She glanced around.
“Right here.” Keegan held them up with one hand. “Do you have a purse somewhere?”
She pointed to the table by the front door. Keegan spun around, grabbed it, and opened the door. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll follow you,” Melinda said.
Trace halted her with a quick tug on her hand. “Mmm. I hate that idea. Let’s leave your car here and come back for it tomorrow.”
She took a deep breath, a mistake on her part if she wanted to hold her ground, because every inhale filled her with more and more of these two men. She shuffled from one foot to the other. She really needed the time to think and regroup. This was serious. A huge step. Bigger than either man knew.
Trace cupped her face and tipped her head back. “Come with us in my truck, baby. Please.”
She nodded, even though half of her screamed it was a mistake to get into a small enclosed space with these two.
Keegan opened the passenger door of Trace’s black Ford Ranger, and before she had a chance to think, he grabbed her waist and lifted her into the cab. “Scoot over, hon.”
She wiggled herself into the center as Keegan climbed in beside her.
Two seconds later, Trace climbed into the driver’s side.
She stopped breathing when they both shut their doors. The pheromones filling the cab were beyond powerful. Her dress was no longer covering her butt, and she lifted slightly to attempt to pull the skirt down as far as possible.
When Trace swung his arm behind her head to twist and look out the back window, Keegan set a hand on her thigh at the same time.
She nearly jumped out of her skin. His fingers on her bare leg seemed directly connected to her sex, as if he’d stroked between her lower lips instead of her thigh. She stifled the moan threatening to escape her mouth and immediately set her own hand on his, squeezing his fingers and then prying them off her. “I can’t…um…think with you touching me.”
He gave a soft chuckle but didn’t remove his hand. Instead he flipped it over and threaded his fingers with hers, his knuckles resting on her leg. “Hon, if you were able to think for the last five hours, even before I touched you, we may have issues.”
Trace grabbed her other hand and set it on his own thigh as he drove. That was no better. His hand was warm. His thigh was warmer. She glanced down, realizing how precariously close to his crotch her fingers were. And then she jerked free of both men’s clutches, crossed her arms, and tucked her hands tight against her body.
A shiver raced through her. She was a giant pile of lust and nerves. Not a feeling she welcomed.
“Relax, hon. What you’re feeling is totally normal. It happens to all of us when we meet our mate.” Keegan twisted his body so he faced her more directly. “When my sister Kiera met her mate, the two of them nearly ran from the room and none of us saw them for about a week.”
She stared at him. “This is different.”
He nodded. “It is. There are two of us, but we promise to take it at whatever pace you need.”
She pursed her lips and didn’t say a word. Yeah, well, the pace I need is off-the-charts slower than you can begin to imagine…
Melinda faced the front, trying not to breathe much. Maybe if she inhaled through her mouth… Nope. That only caused her to taste them on her tongue. She held herself stiff, but her legs bounced with a mind of their own against her will.
“How about I tell you about myself,” Keegan said, his tone low and soothing.
“Please.” Good plan.
“I’m thirty-one. My family moved here when I was five. My parents still live near Trace’s family. They’re friends. I called them earlier. They’re dying to meet you, of course. Luckily I managed to put them off for now.
“I have one younger sister, Kiera. She’s mated to Brantley and has a baby boy named Kent. He’s almost one.
“I’m a building inspector for the county, so I’ve been busier than ever since the earthquake. And I’m currently knee deep in the new casino project.”
She jerked her gaze to him. “The casino? That eyesore?”
He scrunched up his forehead. “Well, yeah. Of course it’s an eyesore right now. It’s been on hold for months awaiting permission to continue. It’s a pile of rebar and concrete. When it’s finished, it will be a piece of art.”
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br /> Now she glared at him. “Are you kidding?” Her voice rose. “That giant monstrosity will never be anything but a way to defile the land and draw unwanted big business to the reservation.”
Keegan inhaled sharply and then blew out a breath. “We might have to agree to disagree on that issue.”
“Or you might need to see my side,” she responded defiantly.
His face lit up as he grinned. “Feisty.”
“Don’t you forget it.”
“Our woman is passionate,” he added.
Trace glanced at her. “I’m not sure now is the best time to get into a pissing match.”
“True.” Keegan rubbed his hands on his legs. “For the record, I’m assigned by the city. I don’t choose the buildings that need inspection, hon. But I can’t wait to argue with you in the future.”
“Oh, we aren’t arguing about that ugly casino blocking the view of the lake, bringing unwanted superstores to the area, closing down the mom and pop shops that have been there for over a century, including my shop.”
“Think of the financial gain—” Keegan started to protest.
“Or think of claiming our mate without getting punched in the face,” Trace interrupted.
“Right. Sorry.” Keegan pursed his lips, and Melinda glared at him, noticing the obvious energy he expended fighting against continuing their disagreement.
She might have laughed, if it were funny. But nothing about the land development project was funny. She didn’t care if he was just doing his job. She’d been on the side of the opposition since the beginning. And after the earthquake, her side bought months of delays by continuing to push their issues.
The earthquake had been an excellent deterrent. After the collapse of many buildings in the area and the destruction of parts of the casino monstrosity, many members of her tribe had switched sides. At this point, there were far more people opposed than before the earthquake.
But the builders already had permits, and stopping them didn’t seem a belated possibility. After a year on hold, she was well aware that the casino had resumed construction a few weeks ago.
Trace pulled up to a ranch-style home. Melinda peered out the window at her first glimpse into Keegan’s world. The house wasn’t huge, but it was immaculate on the outside. A certain amount of pride went into every bush, the perfectly groomed grass, and the quaint front porch with two Adirondack chairs situated at an angle with each other.
Melinda blew out a breath, already knowing this mate of hers was type A. If they were going to be at odds over that damn casino, wait until he found out what the inside of her condo looked like.
Keegan opened the passenger door and jumped down. He reached back as Melinda scooted to the edge of the seat and lifted her out.
“I’m pretty good at getting in and out of cars, Keegan. Been doing it for years. I even have my own driver’s license.” She was half teasing, but she hoped she sounded somewhat serious. She was still feeling confrontational.
He didn’t release her waist. Instead he set his forehead against hers. “I know, but I like touching you. So get used to it.”
With him so close and in her personal space, he consumed her, blocking out the world. When he finally released her, he took her hand and led her to the porch.
Trace unlocked the front door.
“You have a key?” she asked. It was Keegan’s house.
Trace nodded. “We’ve been close for twenty-five years, babe. He has a key to my condo too.”
How close? She was worried about the number of women they might have shared over the years. She couldn’t decide if she was jealous or flat out scared.
Trace held the door open and motioned for her to enter.
The first thing she noticed when she stepped inside and Keegan flipped on the light switch was the entire place smelled of primarily Keegan with a hint of Trace. No one else. That both comforted and intoxicated her.
At least they hadn’t fucked some other woman inside the house recently. That would completely unnerve her.
She let her gaze roam around the room. It was tidy, but lived in. Comfortable. Inviting. The walls were painted a dark brown on two sides, warming the space. The leather couch and two chairs were both the same color of dark brown. Pillows were tossed in the corners of the couch in rich jewel tones.
On the wall opposite the sofa was an enormous entertainment center, the woodwork amazing. It looked custom made. It held a large flat-screen TV and several gaming and stereo components. It was obvious Keegan spent a lot of time in this room. Remotes and game controllers littered the coffee table.
“Can I get you a drink, Melinda?” Keegan ran a hand down her arm until his fingers lightly gripped hers. He was forever touching her. Every time they made contact, she lost a piece of herself to the claiming. Her heart raced to the point that it seemed to ring in her ears. A tingling spread over her like a jolt of electricity.
“You have some wine?” Maybe she could relax if she had something to drink. It might calm her nerves.
Keegan nodded. “Red or white?”
“White if you have it. Or do you have something on the sweeter side?”
“Zinfandel?”
“Perfect.”
Keegan released her to head for the kitchen area.
Trace took the same hand Keegan released, making her suck in a breath. She couldn’t catch a break. Every second her sensitivity to the two of them increased. “Come. Sit. I know it’s late. Super late. But let’s talk.”
It was late, past one in the morning. But there was no way in hell she could sleep even if she tried. And neither would either of them.
Melinda pulled her hand free of Trace and rounded to the living area, choosing an armchair that neither of them could share with her. She sat on her hands on the edge of the seat, her legs bouncing up and down rapidly.
Trace sat on the couch across from her. “Relax, baby. Please. Your nerves are palpable. Nothing’s going to happen you don’t beg for.”
His words made her gasp. What a strange way to verbalize their arrangement. Beg? She couldn’t imagine begging for anything in this lifetime. It wasn’t her style. She was a strong woman. Confident. Outspoken. And usually on her game. Her ability to perceive things before they happened had followed her all of her life. More of an intuition that was sharp than anything specific. But tonight she was so foggy from the need to mate, she couldn’t discern anything at all.
She untucked one hand from under her thigh to take the glass of pink wine Keegan handed her as she lifted an eyebrow. “I’m drinking alone?”
He nodded and took a seat by Trace. “You look like you could use it.”
She took a long sip. He wasn’t wrong. And both of them had undoubtedly had a few beers earlier in the evening. She’d been unable to enjoy any aspect of the party from the moment Rebecca went into labor.
The wine was smooth and sweet and went down perfectly. If only it calmed her more… She didn’t drink often, but tonight it seemed to be called for.
“So, tell us about you.” Trace leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together.
“Does it matter? It won’t change anything.” She immediately regretted being so adversarial and winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby.” Trace’s lowered his voice. “No need to apologize. You’re right. It won’t change anything. Even though you and Keegan are obviously going to bump heads in a daily battle over environment versus modern advances. Even though there are still a lot of members of your tribe who would prefer you not mate outside the pack. Even though we have ten thousand logistics to work out and we don’t live super close to each other currently…”
He hesitated, meeting her gaze. “Baby, this is a sure thing. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to get to know you, make you feel comfortable, take care with your feelings. We aren’t jackasses.”
He was right. Neither of them seemed to be an asshole. They’d been nothing but polite and careful with her from t
he first moment she’d met them. “You’re right. I live outside of Sojourn on the rez in a small condo. You already know I’m a member of the Yobuka Tribe. All of us are Native American and lupine. Over the centuries there has been a surprisingly low number of tribal members who have mates outside our own tribe. Fate hasn’t let that happen many times. The Yobuka have always been rather isolated when it came to other shifters in the area. Until recently.”
She scrunched up her brow, thinking about that some more. “My mother may have been the first to really break tradition. Not that anyone has a say in who they’re mated to, but there must be a reason she was fated to a white man—and then Miles and myself too.”
“Two of them at that,” Trace said.
“Yeah. What’s up with that?” She forced a smile and then took another sip of wine. She would ponder the implications of ménages in the area more another time. Perhaps nature was making a strong case that it was time for the tribe to branch out. It was the twenty-first century and about time their bloodline melded with others.
She shook the thought out of her head for the time being. “Anyway, I own a shop in town that sells locally made Native American products. It’s called Dreamcatchers. I have a degree in business.”
Both men smiled.
She continued. “My grandmother—we call her Mimi—raised us. My father was a dickwad from the reservation that raped my mother when she was young. That’s how Miles and I were conceived.”
The smiles fell as they both gasped, eyes wide.
“Jesus, honey, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Keegan scooted forward.
Trace probably knew a lot of this story, but she wasn’t sure what Griffen would have shared.
She licked her lips. “Oh, it gets worse. My mother later met her mate when Miles and I were three. She got pregnant. He was white. And the elders of the tribe chased her off the land. We spent the next twenty-seven years believing her to be dead. Until today when she showed up before the party. Oh, and apparently I have three half siblings I’ve never met.”
Keegan stiffened, not moving an inch. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, hon. Griffen told us a little about your mother when we first got to the party tonight. But that was before we knew you were ours.”
Melinda's Wolves Page 3
