Melinda's Wolves

by Becca Jameson

  One thing at a time. He repeated the motto again and again, praying the day would pass quickly and he and Keegan could get her naked beneath them once again as soon as possible.

  Everything they said about mating and the urge to fuck night and day was true. Until it happened to him, it wasn’t possible to conceive, but now that Trace had fallen for Fate’s design, he understood.

  All too well.

  When Trace opened the front door, he was shocked to find Keegan’s parents climbing the steps to the porch. Trace grinned. Of course. He’d known them most of his life. No way would they be able to stay away for long after finding out their son had met his mate, or mates in this case. “Will. Marcy. How are you?” He smirked as he pulled Melinda into his side.

  Keegan came from behind. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”

  Marcy looked chagrined. She tipped her head to one side and looked at Melinda. “Sorry. We couldn’t resist the urge to meet Melinda.” She reached out a hand. “I’m Marcy, Keegan’s mom. So nice to meet you. Welcome to the family.”

  Melinda wiggled out of Trace’s embrace to take Marcy’s hand. “A pleasure.” And then she turned toward Will. “And you must be Will. Keegan told me about you last night.”

  Will beamed as he shook Melinda’s hand with a wink. “You took time out to discuss boring parents?” he teased. And then he took a deep breath and his smile fell slightly. Trace realized Will wouldn’t have scented their mating—because it hadn’t occurred yet. “Is everything okay? Where are you three going so early?”

  It was anything but early, but Trace recognized the real question. Why haven’t you consummated the claiming?

  Now wasn’t the time or place. Besides, it wasn’t anyone’s business but the three of them what time frame they lived by. Trace knew he didn’t have to worry about Will and Marcy. Neither of them would say a word to pressure them. They were far too considerate for that.

  “We won’t keep you,” Marcy said, stepping back. “We just wanted to say hello. Call us. Come for dinner when you have the time. Okay?” She looked from Melinda to Keegan.

  “Of course, Mom.” Keegan leaned forward and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Give us a few days to sort out our crazy lives. We’ll be in touch.”

  Marcy pulled her husband back down the front steps, twisting her head back. “Nice to meet you, Melinda.”

  “You too, ma’am.” Melinda waved as Trace followed Keegan’s parents down the steps, heading for his truck.

  Keegan took Melinda from Trace at the passenger door and kissed her on the forehead. “They liked you.”

  She giggled. “How the hell could you know that?”

  Trace chuckled. “Baby, they like everyone. Nicest folks I know.”

  And then they were off.

  The drive was quiet. Melinda sat between them again, but she did her best to keep from touching either man. Trace did his best not to laugh.

  When they pulled up to Griffen’s, she looked at him. “Would you please just go in and grab my phone? I don’t think I can face anyone right now.” She glanced down at last night’s dress with a wince. “And that sweet baby… I’ll want to hold her. I’ll come back later.”

  Trace kissed her briefly on the lips and jumped down from the cab. It was the first time he’d been separated from her since midnight, and he didn’t relish the idea. So, he jogged to the house.

  After knocking, it took a few minutes for someone to come to the door.

  Griffen. He looked like he hadn’t slept. His clothes were wrinkled. But his face was full of love for the bundle wrapped in a pink blanket in the crook of his arm. “Hey.”

  Trace leaned over his niece and grinned. She was a cute little thing. Then he righted. “We just stopped by to grab Melinda’s phone. She left it last night.”

  “Ah, yes. There’s a phone on the kitchen counter. It must be hers.” Griffen opened the door wider with his foot, nodding behind him. “Come on in.”

  Trace stepped around his brother and bee-lined for the kitchen.

  “You don’t smell right.” Griffen said.

  “No shit.” Trace turned and headed back for the door, catching the grin on Griffen’s face. Trace rolled his eyes. “Don’t say a word. You didn’t claim your mate until two days after you met her.”

  “True. But there were extenuating circumstances. We were missing our third, if you recall. And don’t forget me getting impaled with a branch.”

  Trace chuckled. “More like a stick, and all because you thought you saw some sort of Indian spirit woohoo.” He jiggled his fingers in the air.

  “You’re going to mock the Native American spirits now? After they saved my mate’s life and brought the three of us together? Don’t let Melinda hear you talking like that. She’ll leave your ass high and dry and you’ll never get any.”

  Griffen was right. Trace needed to curb his beliefs about strange black orbs, or at least keep his thoughts to himself. His sweet mate was a believer, and she would freak out on him if he let on he didn’t quite follow her logic. “Well, gotta go. I’m sure we’ll come back by later to visit. Melinda would like to see the baby. But she’s, uh…”

  “Embarrassed?”

  “Yep. That’s about right. Tell Miles and Rebecca we said hello and we’ll be back.”

  “’K. Go claim your mate before you lose brain cells.”

  Trace turned to walk back to the truck, mumbling to himself, “Oh how I wish it were that simple.”

  When he reached the truck—the driver’s door still open—Melinda scooted toward him. “What are you doing?” he asked as he handed her the phone.

  “Getting my car.” She pointed at the lone car in the circle drive. A cute silver two-door. Not at all what he would have guessed.

  Trace waved her off. “We’ll get it later.” He shoved her back across the seat so he could climb in.

  Melinda grabbed the steering wheel, the only way she could thwart his efforts against her tiny frame. “Trace. That’s crazy. I need my car. It’s right there. We’re here now.”

  He leaned in, took her chin in his hand, and met her gaze. “And I don’t want to be apart from you today. I’m sure Keegan agrees. Let us take you to your place and then your shop. We’ll come back here later anyway so you can visit the baby.”

  She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Are you always this domineering?”

  He shrugged as she scooted back across the seat. “Not sure. You’re my first mate.”

  Keegan laughed.

  Melinda slapped his leg. “I’m your last mate too. So keep that in mind when you’re on the path toward pissing me off.”

  He winked at her and pulled away from the house.

  Twenty minutes later they pulled up to her condo. Keegan was the first to descend from the truck, lifting Melinda to the ground next.

  She smoothed her skirt down and led them to her home. At the door, she turned to face them. “Uh, you should know. I’m a bit of a slob. And I wasn’t expecting guests.”

  Keegan lifted her chin with one finger. “You should know you can do nothing to scare us off. It doesn’t work that way. And we aren’t guests.”

  She nodded, saying nothing else as she turned toward the door.

  Trace’s first thought was that her condo was small. Much smaller than his. Then again, she lived there alone. And she had an end unit, so she had quite a bit of privacy.

  She opened the blinds as soon as they stepped inside, letting the light filter into the dark space.

  “You are a slob,” Keegan teased, stepping over a pile of shoes in the entryway.

  “I told you.” She headed down the short hallway, Trace following on her heels as her ass swayed. The farther he made it into her home, the more he smelled her essence. Her scent permeated the space, of course.

  The glance he’d taken of the living room and attached kitchen taught him a lot. She was indeed messy, or lazy. Dishes filled the sink, books littered the coffee table, and the kitchen table was covered with a
t least a week’s worth of mail.

  Her bedroom was no better. She obviously didn’t believe in a hamper. He didn’t see evidence she even owned one.

  When he looked at Keegan, he found him grinning, fighting off laughter. He turned to face the wall, pretending to examine her framed pictures in order to keep her from seeing his expression.

  “I’m certain we can break you of this messy clothing habit in a hurry,” Trace said.

  Melinda had entered her closet and pulled out a bag. She glared at him. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

  “It’s easy. Don’t wear any clothes in the house.”

  She giggled. “You wish.”

  “Mmm. I have to agree with Trace on that plan. We’ll keep you naked in bed, bring you food and water, and not have to worry about your sloppiness.” Keegan padded across the room, took her bag from her hand, and tossed it on her queen-sized bed.

  While she stared at him, stunned, he backed her to the wall and planted his hands on both sides of her face. And then he descended, lowering his lips to their mate’s before she could voice a protest.

  Trace watched her reaction. She didn’t fight him. She may have stiffened from the shock for a second, but as soon as Keegan’s tongue entered her mouth, she softened, gripping his waist with both hands and lifting onto her tiptoes.

  They made a gorgeous picture.

  Perhaps it was strange Trace didn’t feel a hint of jealousy. In fact he hadn’t since they’d met. There was no room for jealousy in this relationship. She belonged to both of them, and sometimes she would be with one or the other. The best part of the arrangement would be never having to worry about satisfying their mate. Between the two of them, they could surely keep her sated.

  When Keegan broke the kiss, he set his forehead against hers. His hair fell around her face, curtaining her. “You need to grab a few things, put them in that bag, and hurry, because if you don’t, you won’t make it to the shop for several more hours.”

  “Why?”

  Trace chuckled. “Because this entire place is filled with your scent, and you’re about to find yourself flat on your bed, naked, and worn out.”

  She ducked from between Keegan’s arms and hastily stuffed items from drawers into her bag. Without looking at either of them, she shuffled to the bathroom and shut the door.

  Trace heard the lock turn. He glared at the wood, willing it to disappear or for him to suddenly develop the ability to see through things. Five minutes later, she emerged in jeans, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. Her bag was bulging—probably with bathroom shit—and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail.

  “Ready,” she declared. Before either man moved, she dodged them both and practically ran to the front door. Throwing it open, she called over her shoulder, “Coming?”

  Trace took another quick glance around her bedroom, learning more about her. She liked candles. A lot. They were scattered on every surface, most of them halfway burned. If he thought about it, the various scents mingled together, making up part of what Melinda smelled like.

  She loved pillows. They were tossed all over the bed, falling on the floor, and scattered on an arm chair.

  He had no idea how many clothes she had or much about her style. And he was afraid to look in her closet.

  Keegan grabbed his shoulder on the way by. “Guess we better make our way to her shop.”

  It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter Nine

  Melinda needed to get out of that house fast. Moving to the car was not better, but at least there was little chance of them fucking in the car. Inside her condo, she’d been weak and shaky. It was a struggle to will herself not to attack one or both of them.

  She wasn’t ready. She needed some space. Some separation. Room to think. And they weren’t going to give her that.

  She stood by the truck while the men finally joined her. They’d hesitated inside her condo. She didn’t ask why. When they reached her side, they both smirked.

  Keegan spoke as he opened the passenger door. “You can run, but you can’t hide. And we’ll catch you eventually.” His words held more promise than threat.

  She shivered as he lifted her into the cab, his hands warm on her waist, her shirt lifting so he touched her bare skin. It didn’t seem she’d ever be permitted to climb into the cab herself, so she might as well give up that argument.

  She sighed as she settled in the center again.

  Seconds later she was flanked and the doors shut, sealing her in the small space once again with the intoxicating scent of her mates. It was so strange. Insane. Who would feel this level of connection with two men she’d never met in her life until last night?

  Not even twenty-four hours and she’d already had sex with both of them. In the same room. Each watching the other.

  Suddenly feeling very hot, she wiped her forehead, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back against the seat.

  “You all right, hon?” Keegan’s hand was instantly on her thigh. His voice was tender, caring, filled with just the right tone of emotion.

  She leaned into him. “Yes. Overwhelmed. Scared.” She needed to be honest.

  He set his hand on her head and threaded his fingers into her hair, loosening her ponytail. He kissed the top of her head. “I know, hon. And it’s going to be okay. I promise. I know those are just words right now, but you’ll see.”

  She nodded. She felt deep inside he was right. Her gut told her it was all going to be fine. Her brain was smarter though, and it said she was crazy. It warned her to slow down and regroup before she lost her soul.

  Trace set a hand on her other leg, his thumb stroking her thigh. And then he squeezed gently, physical support to match Keegan’s words.

  They drove toward downtown Sojourn, her hometown, the center of everything in her world. Although her mates were from just forty minutes away in Cambridge—the other end of the lake—they were from another world. And she knew it. Her entire life had been about her tribe, her pack, and her people. Native Americans. And even though her mates were both lupine, they were also Caucasian. Times had changed. Few people in her tribe would be as upset by this as they were thirty years ago when her mother mated, but there would still be unrest, eyebrows lifted in concern, even possible violence.

  It had happened to her brother Miles. It could happen to her.

  As they made the five-minute trip toward town, they passed the casino development on the outskirts. She stiffened.

  Keegan chuckled. He rubbed her arm with his hand. “Don’t worry. We aren’t going to argue today. Today is about you.”

  She lifted her head off his shoulder and glared at him. “We shouldn’t have to argue about this subject ever, Keegan. It worries me.”

  His face grew serious. “I know, hon. And I respect that. Can we agree to disagree for now?”

  She wasn’t sure she could live with that. Part of her felt like it was important to hash out their disagreement—with her coming out the winner—before they took another step toward mating.

  Hell, part of her wanted to slam her own head into a wall for sleeping with them at all. She’d given them her virginity. Not one but two men.

  Part of her wanted to do it again. Pull the truck over and strip in the bed of the truck. Insanity.

  She pursed her lips and glanced out the window. A shudder shook her body. Something about the casino development didn’t set well with her, something beyond her environmental disagreement.

  “What?” Keegan glanced out the window, following her gaze.

  “That place. It’s…”

  “Gonna make a lot of people a lot of money?” he asked.

  She jerked her gaze to his. “Keegan, stop it. I’m serious. Something isn’t right. It gives me the chills.”

  He chuckled.

  She slapped his chest. “I know you barely know me, but you need to understand a few things. I’m serious when I tell you I’m not like other shifters. It’s not a joke to me. It’s real. I truly sense things.”<
br />
  He sobered. “I know. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “For both of us,” Trace added.

  “I get that. But in the meantime, don’t make fun of me.” She narrowed her gaze at him and then turned her head toward Trace to do the same. “The quickest way to alienate me is to make light of my abilities.”

  Keegan took her hand and squeezed it. “Noted.”

  She glanced back outside as they left the construction site in the distance. “Something isn’t right about that site, and it has nothing to do with my dispute over its destruction of a way of life on this reservation. It’s something else.”

  Keegan cleared his throat. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you may be right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t be sure about anything, mind you. I get dozens of emails warning me about the casino or threatening me if we proceed. It’s normal in situations like this. Expected—”

  She interrupted him. “Why you? Why not the developer?”

  “Oh, I’m sure the developer gets thousands. But some people know I’m the one in control of the safety of the building. And people will say anything to grab my attention. Including lie.”

  “Lie about what?” Trace asked.

  “Well, Friday I got an email from an anonymous source telling me the original construction was shoddy. Whoever it was said the builder cut corners to save money. The email even itemized where I should look.”

  Melinda gasped. “That’s serious, Keegan. And more than a little frightening. Have you called the sheriff’s office? Was anything valid?”

  “No, he has not called.” Trace’s voice rose. “Why am I just now hearing about this?” His tone was clipped.

  Keegan threw up his hands. “Hey, calm down. If I had a dollar for every email like that one, I wouldn’t need my day job at all. I only brought it up because that’s the first thing I have to do tomorrow—follow up on that one and check out its possible validity. Do you have any idea how many hours I waste each week chasing dragons?”

  Melinda relaxed marginally. “What if it’s not a hoax?”