by Elle Thorne
Maisie stared at Judd for answers, questions readily apparent on her face. He shrugged. He had never been inside. He didn’t have the foggiest clue what Gabe was up to.
Gabe stepped onto a deck which looked like it might collapse under the combined weight of the party of four. It squeaked and let out a protest with every step. He held a door open.
Maisie went first. “Whoa,” she uttered.
Judd followed her inside and froze. Whoa, was right. The outside of the place might appear to have been built on a beer budget, but damn if the inside wasn’t crafted on champagne money. “What the hell,” he uttered, taking stock of Gabe. “You’re a surprise Gabriel Bonegate.”
“What, you think I don’t have some taste?”
“Oh, I didn’t say that.” Judd appraised the area. There were no partitions or walls separating one mobile home from the next. They’d all somehow been fashioned into one building.
Not just a building. A ranch home that would put to shame all the ranch homes Judd had ever been in. He almost didn’t want to step on the Acacia wood flooring. Glass-like finished floors. He side-eyed the grungy welcome mat, kinda wanting to go back and kick the dust off his boots. Or maybe even take them off.
Gabe nudged him. “Don’t worry about it, Walker.”
He stepped farther in, led by Gabe, who said, “Let’s go to the family room.”
Judd wanted to laugh. Family room was an understatement. Maybe great family room was a better way to describe it. With its 14-foot ceiling and views to an outdoor kitchen which was mostly roofless, in an outdoor oasis with covered terraces and a tropical pool.
“Wow,” Maisie said. “You could never tell this is what it’s like in here.”
“Just because I’ve been relegated to this hell doesn’t mean I have to live in hellish conditions.”
Judd frowned. What did he mean, relegated to hell?
Maisie turned circles, slow ones, jaw dropped, mouth gaping. “I saw this kind of stuff in a ranch living magazine once. I think it’s called Tuscan Mediterranean.”
Judd didn’t know anything about that shit, but he knew an elevator when he saw one. And there wasn’t a second story in this place. So… It must go down. What the hell does Gabe have down there? A movie theater? A bowling alley? “Damn. Nice place, Bonegate.”
Gabe nodded.
“My gosh. You’ve got a wet bar,” Maisie went from one spot to another, trailing fingertips along furniture and juggling the pup in her other arm. “Would you look at that?” Evidently, the open floor plan had her going from area to area. “Look at that kitchen. Granite. Fancy ovens…”
“Mostly unused,” Gabe confessed. “Why don’t you and the pup clean up in the guest bedroom? I don’t have clothes you can wear, but if you want to put yours in the washer, for now, I’ve got bathrobes.”
“Diapers?” she asked, with anticipation. “Because I’m hoping he’s going to change into his human body again. And he’ll need them.”
“What’s he? A year?” Gabe frowned. “Time to get him potty trained.”
Judd bit back a smile. He had no clue when one trained a kid to use the bathroom instead of a diaper, but it was amusing to find the big man telling her to potty train her kid.
“It’s not that easy.” Maisie harrumphed.
“We can pick up some diapers when he shifts into his human form again. Why don’t you leave him with us while you freshen up? A nap couldn’t hurt.”
“I’m too uptight to nap. But I’ll freshen up.”
“I’ll rustle up some grub while you do,” Gabe said. “And I’ve got some steaks for this one.” He indicated the pup with his chin.
“I don’t know.” Maisie looked down at her clothing. Her nose wrinkled.
Judd wondered if she was going to sniff her armpits. “You’ll feel better. And maybe be more alert. That’s not a bad thing when you have a little one like Cash. Between the shifting and the energy he’s got, you want to be on your best. He’ll keep you on your toes.”
Her eyes were glued on the wolf pup. Confusion swam in their blue depths. She pushed her mass of tangled, wavy blonde hair out of the way then reached out with the pup.
Judd took him. “Hey, tough pup.”
“Second door on the right.” Gabe pointed down the hallway. “And if there’s anything in the chest of drawers you want to borrow—or keep—feel free. Shit accumulates here sometimes. I can’t tell you what sizes they are, but I can tell you they’re clean.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, yeah,” Gabe added. “One more thing. The laundry room is two doors down from that.”
Maisie gave the pup a kiss on his forehead. “I won’t be long.”
The tiny lupine blinked slowly, his eyes liquid pools of silver.
After she was gone, Gabe took the pup from Judd. “How can we help this little guy and ruin MacIntosh’s day, all at the same time?”
“Why would you want to ruin Paul MacIntosh’s day?”
“What I’d really like—” Gabe set the pup down. “Go explore, little one.” Then he turned toward the fridge and began to remove items. “Anyway, what I’d really like is to see his life ruined. Permanently.”
“Sounds like you have a personal grudge against him.” Judd watched the pup trotting around the area, sniffing corners, then coming back to him and Gabe, then going out, exploring again, never straying out of their sight.
“I do. He’s the reason I’ve been relegated to this hellhole.”
Relegated, again. Interesting word choice, once more. Judd hoped to get more about that without prying, so he waited. And waited. Fruitlessly.
Gabe unwrapped a steak and took out some kind of appliance, stuffing the steak into it, then he put a plate under the machine. “I can help you mete out justice. My own brand of justice.” He flipped the switch on the immaculate red Kitchen Aid device, and it started to spew ground steak. The sounds coming from it prohibited conversation until Gabe turned it off and put the plate on the floor. “Here, pup.”
The furry little one came bounding and immediately tore into the offering, making loud snapping and slurping sounds.
Judd couldn’t help but smile at the voracity of his hunger.
“I can’t imagine what she fed him while he was in his wolf,” Gabe said. “I figured he needed more.”
“She’s got a lot to learn about being a mother to a shifter.”
“I’m sure your suggestion to have the Crooked Arrow help her out isn’t a bad one.”
Judd sensed a but coming.
Sure enough. “But that’s for after the danger is over. Right now, it would be too risky.”
“Yeah, but they have a human there. They can relate to each other. Not to mention, Luke’s sister’s got a toddler.”
“None of that will matter if everyone at Crooked Arrow is dead. Including her and the pup.” Gabe tore the Kitchen Aid apart and put parts in the sink, others in the cabinet, then opened the fridge and pulled out cold cuts, cheese, and condiments.
The idea of Maisie being dead hit him like a hammer wielded by Thor. It was a physical ache, the thought that Maisie might be killed. It absolutely bothered him that his pack could be hurt as well, but for some reason, the notion of Maisie not breathing; this left him devastated. “And you have a suggestion that can save Crooked Arrow? And her?”
Gabe nodded and reached into the pantry for a bag of chips. “Sandwich just ain’t right without chips. And not that ruffled kind. Those are better for dipping, but not for sandwiches.”
Who’d have thought Gabe had an opinion on stuff like that? And one he’d be sharing with him. And not sharing his idea of how to save the pack and Maisie.
Gabe popped a chip in his mouth, the whole thing. He hadn’t taken the hat off, but it wasn’t perched as low over his eyes, which, when he tipped his head back to bite the chip, Judd had been able to see. Oddest eyes, those. A solid gray color with a perfect, black circle in the middle. The black pupil wasn’t the odd part. It was the gray. Gab
riel Bonegate’s didn’t have the usual striations found in irises. Just a flat gray.
That was all Judd got to see. A glimpse, then Gabe’s head had dropped and his eyes were hidden in shadow once more. It occurred to him again, Gabe still hadn’t offered a suggestion to save Crooked Arrow or Maisie. Another question nagged at him, however.
“What are you?”
Gabe was in the middle of popping a chip in his mouth when he froze. “That doesn’t matter. I help you. You help me. And you get paid. Again, she’s better off. They’d never look for her here. Not to mention, I have better hiding places. Think of your pack. I know you don’t spend the time with them that you used to—”
How the hell did he know that? “Well—”
“But they’re still your pack. No reason to bring heat down on them. Especially when they went through a leadership change not too long ago.”
Judd scrubbed his fingers through his hair then over his face. “I don’t know.”
“I can make it worth your time. You can have a new contract. With me.”
He was curious about what kind of contract, but it occurred to him Maisie had been a while. “I’ll be right back. Just want to check on her.”
He strode down the hall and in through the second door—it was open—and found the room was semi-dark. He frowned. Darkness, or even semi-darkness, was no issue for shifters. Not with their preternatural vision, but she wasn’t one of them. So what was she—
He stopped abruptly.
Maisie was on the bed, in an oversized white bathrobe, her hair damp and messy. She was on her side, and her hands were arranged in a prayer position, though he didn’t think she was the type. He approached with the stealth of a shifter, not wanting to wake her from what was clearly needed. Rest.
When he reached the bed, he looked down at her. No, this wasn’t creepy, at all. He shook his head at himself. He’d not really taken the time to study her face before. Seemed they were always going and blowing, running and gunning. The curve of her cheek, the way her bottom lip stuck out a little while she slept, the eyelashes that practically touched her cheeks. Was this really a thing? He was developing feelings for a woman he’d barely known for a day?
She stirred, and he backed into the shadows, wanting to be sure she was okay.
“No,” she murmured in her sleep. “Cash, don’t do that. Don’t—” She slipped back into a deep sleep.
Judd traced his steps to the kitchen.
“How’s she?” Gabe was holding the wolf pup, who was now fast asleep in the big man’s arms.
“She crashed, but she’s having nightmares.”
“The life she’s had to lead lately seems conducive toward nightmares.”
“You have no idea.” Judd brought him up to speed.
Gabe said, “You need to give serious consideration to my offer. She can stay here. I can provide her with the items she needs for the baby and for when he’s a pup.”
“I don’t know.”
“And I pay you damned well to go take care of Paul MacIntosh. Make him disappear.”
“I hate the idea of leaving her behind. With anyone.”
A wicked smile grew on Gabriel Bonegate’s face. “Then why don’t we bring him here?”
“Bring him?” Judd eyeballed the man.
“Lure him.” Gabe winked.
Gabe and Judd had come up with a fairly decent plan for getting Maisie Malone out of her mess. Or so Judd thought. And luckily for them, Maisie had slept through the whole thing. So had little man, who’d awakened and shifted back.
“Damn, little man,” Gabe had said. “You smell like shit, old clothes, and rotting meat.” He passed Cash to Judd.
Judd held him at arms’ length. “He’s gonna need diapers. A bath. Probably formula. Maybe even jars of baby food?” He tried to look in his mouth without putting his fingers in there. They ate something solid at a year old, didn’t they?
“You handle the bath. I’ll go get the stuff. Clothes, too. Won’t take but a sec.”
“I have no idea about that. None. I’ve never bathed a kid. Or even seen one bathed.”
“Shit, Walker. Just pretend he’s a dude, but in miniature,” Gabe said, then added. “Not to mention, I have no clue about bathing one either.”
“Yet, you were giving me advice.” Judd took the baby down the hall.
“Use the one on the other side,” Gabe had whispered the words, to keep from waking Maisie, but, of course, Judd’s sensitive super-shifter hearing picked it up.
He waved at Gabe over the back of his head.
Unsure how wet he’d end up in the process, he took off his shirt and hoped Cash wouldn’t soak his pants while splashing. Once the water felt warm to the touch, he filled the tub a little and stripped the little one.
“You’re going to have to get control of your wolf,” he told Cash, setting him in the water and scooping it over his head.
The baby gurgled and laughed, spit and drool running down his face.
“Quit that,” Judd laughed, wiping his face down.
Cash did it again.
“You’re full of piss and vinegar. You know that?” Judd couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.
“Uncle Gabe’s going to get you some baby food.” Wait a damned second. Did he just call Gabriel Bonegate Uncle Gabe? Fuck. What kind of soft side was this kid bringing out in him?
Cash was splashing, ignoring the fact Judd was deep in a reverie. So deep, he just realized he was soaked. Through and through.
“Damn, little man. What have you gone and done?”
Chapter Seventeen
Maisie woke up with a start. She felt around the bed for Cash.
No Cash!
Panic set in. The bed was all wrong. It wasn’t lumpy. The blanket wasn’t threadbare. She wasn’t laying on her non-Egyptian cotton, damned near zero count thread sheets. Nope. This was more like silk. Or satin. Heck, she wasn’t sure of the difference.
She sat up. She wasn’t in her own clothing. She was in a plush bathrobe that was like a gazillion sizes too large. It was big enough for—
A giant! Gabriel Bonegate.
Memories came flooding back. She was at Gabe’s place. She’d taken a shower. Judd had said he’d watch Cash.
“Shoot,” she hissed. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Didn’t even know how long she’d been out. She leapt to her feet. She needed to find Cash.
She had just made it to the doorway when a sound she knew only too well reached her. Cash’s baby cackles and chuckles.
And splashing? Was that splashing?
She followed the sounds quietly, but swiftly, eager to see what was going on, and entered a door catty-corner to hers. The light in the room was off, but the one in the restroom wasn’t. That was where the sounds were definitely coming from.
She poked her head in the doorway and beheld the sight before her.
A shirtless Judd bathing Cash.
Noting that her baby was fine—better than fine, having a grand ol’ time, actually—she couldn’t help but stare at the body of the man who was keeping Cash in the giggles.
He’d stripped off his shirt and was in jeans and bare feet. Except the jeans were soaked, clinging as he squatted down, scooping water onto Cash’s shoulders. That back, broad, defined, scarred with fight wounds. She’d guess knives—oh, wait, duh—shifter! Probably claws, then. That chest. She could see it in the mirror’s reflection. Wide with nicely sculpted pecs and a set of abs that rippled while he laughed and teased Cash.
She held her breath, staring. Not wanting to ogle him, but unable to look away. Or to even say something which would draw attention to her and force her to quit checking him out.
His face was tan, a little more than his body, and there were lighter laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, like maybe the time he spent outdoors was one when he smiled a lot. His lips were full, but not overly so and definitely masculine. His face had a couple days’ scruff on it. Just the right amount of scruff to chafe her face if
they kissed. Her body reacted to that. Heat pooled at the apex of her thighs. Her breasts tightened, and she could feel her nipples had hardened and were pressing against the terry bathrobe. Thank goodness it was thick, and he wouldn’t be able to see what he did to her.
What the heck? Was she really thinking that way?
Then she noticed—
Shit!
He was watching her in the mirror.
Her face went red. She knew because it felt like it was on fire. And not just her face. Her whole body. She was aflame with embarrassment for being caught staring, and even more embarrassed for the feelings she was catching for this man. Correction, this shifter. God, was she really falling in love with a shifter?
This gave her pause.
Why not? Her son was a shifter, and he was completely loveable. He was better than that. He was perfect.
“Hey.” Judd finally spoke, and she was glad because she felt tongue-tied.
She cleared her throat. “H-hi.” She regained her composure, then, “I fell asleep.”
“Yeah, I know. Cash shifted back, as you can see. Gabe slipped out to get him some necessaries.”
“Hand me that?” He jerked his chin toward a fluffy bath towel on the counter.
She opened it, and he deposited a dripping Cash into her arms.” She leaned in and kissed his smooth baby cheek. “I missed you while you were a wolf.”
“Mommy.”
“Oh, my god. Oh. My. God.” She started to dance in place, bouncing, prancing. “I can’t believe it!”
Cash laughed hard, bouncing with his momma.
“First word?” Judd said with a quirked brow and a crooked smile.
“Yes!” She bounced once more and bounced right into him.
He held her to steady her, and she found herself in his arms, with Cash between them.
The heat returned. And to more than just her cheeks. Her body was infused with scorching fire, like she’d flown over an active volcano.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, unable to raise her eyes to his.
