Werewolves in Love 2: Yours, Mine and Howls (4 page)

Shawn stopped, stuffed his hands in his pockets and stepped back, not looking at Cade’s face. Shawn had grown up in the pack with Cade and Carson. He knew how much finding his nephew meant to Cade.

Trying like hell to keep his voice steady, Cade shook the teenager’s hand. “Dylan. I’m very glad to meet you, son. I wish Carson had had the chance. I want you to think of this place as your home as long as you’re here.”

“I’m…thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet my— Your brother too. Sir. Thank you for inviting us.” The pup’s emotions were a noisy riot of confusion, reluctance and fear. Dismayed, Cade was searching for words to put him at ease when Dylan’s face suddenly lit up. “Your house is awesome!”

Cade laughed. “It is, isn’t it? Your grandfather built it, but I’ve added a lot to it.”

He shook hands with Seth Guidry, who appeared outwardly calm but was nervous as hell on the inside, even a little afraid.

The third wolf, a tall, dark haired beta, grinned at him with a familiarity that grated on Cade. There was something inexplicably smart-assed about his glee. Cade couldn’t trust anyone who liked him so damned much at first sight. When the wolf shook Cade’s hand, he held it a little too tightly for a little too long.

“’Tis a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. MacDougall,” said the wolf in a light Irish brogue. “We’ve all been looking forward to it. Haven’t we, lad?” The beta elbowed Dylan in the ribs. The teenager curled his lip and made an annoyed sound. The Irishwolf just laughed.

Presumptuous asshole.
Cade pointedly returned his attention to his nephew.

“Where’s Ms. Kendall, and who’s the girl I saw down by the car? Is she your girlfriend?”

Behind him, Shawn snorted. Guidry and the Irishwolf looked uncomfortable. The teenager blushed almost purple.

“I don’t— She’s not— I mean…”

“I don’t mind if you brought an extra guest, son,” Cade hastily reassured him. “We’ve got plenty of room. She can stay with you if you want.” The pup had excellent taste in females.

Shawn shouted with laughter. “That’s not a teenager! That’s Ally! She’s thirty-fucking-one, and she’s never had a pup!”

Cade gaped at his wolf in astonishment. “
That’s
the foster mother?”

The Irishwolf—Cade couldn’t remember his name—piped up. “Shawn here mentioned you may have a nanny shortage. Our Ally’s wonderful with small monsters, and they love her.”

“That’s interesting,” Cade snapped. “Shawn, finish showing the wolves around while I talk to Michael.”

Michael hung up the phone in Cade’s office when Cade walked in, slamming the door behind him.

“I really thought she would work,” Michael said with a dejected air. “She wasn’t a nympho, a thief or a drunk.”

“Mrs. Legget wasn’t a thief. She was a kleptomaniac. And now Mrs. Palmer’s crazy.” Cade collapsed into one of the guest chairs.

“You want your chair back?”

“No, I want my day back. I want to rewind and start over.” Taking a cigarillo out of the wooden case on his desk, he lit it up and tipped his chair back.

“Shit. What now?” groaned Michael.

Cade smoking indoors indicated a bad day.

He took a long drag. “I’m wondering if I made a mistake.”

“You don’t make mistakes.”

“Watch it, wolf. I’m serious. This could be a problem.”

“We’ll hire another nanny, Cade. Sindri can handle things ’til we do.”

“That’s not the problem. The female outside? You were right, that’s Dylan’s cousin, his foster mother.”

Michael leered. “I know. Great tits and ass. She’s as tasty as any of the nannies were.”

A sexy young female on a ranch full of single wolves was an invitation for disaster. He’d had to fire two nannies before instructing the service to send someone older and unattractive. One had had a drinking problem, the next had sticky fingers, and now Mrs. Palmer had flipped out. Five nannies, and Becca was barely four.

“How ’bout we try—?”

“No more hot nannies, Michael.”

The blond wolf sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. So the foster mom’s got a smoking bod. What’s the problem?”

“I made your little brother a deal about the three of them—the uncle, the foster mother, the weird fucking roommate.”

Michael frowned. “A deal?”

“I told Nick I’d look after the girl and the two other wolves. Let them stay as long as they want. In return he recognizes my pack.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d given them an open invitation.”

Cade shrugged as he took another drag. “Getting Houston’s recognition is worth some inconvenience. Nick should’ve said something about the female, though.”

Michael shook his shaggy blond head, looking incredulous. “Damn, Cade. A woman we’ve never met, who looks like that, hanging around as long as she wants? After all the shit with the nannies?”

Cade leveled a gaze at his second while he took another drag on the cigarillo. Just because he chastised himself for an error in judgment didn’t mean his wolf could do it. His tone was mild but tinged with iron as he drawled, “Last I heard, Michael, I was the Alpha and this was my home. I just figured I could decide who gets to visit and for how long. No one told me I had to put it up for a vote. Who’s on the committee?”

Their gazes locked for a minute. Michael looked away first, as was proper. And safe. He exhaled. “Point made, point taken.”

Neither of them spoke for a minute.

“Where the hell is she, anyway?”

Michael glanced outside and shrugged. “She’s wandering around the yard, looking lost and luscious.”

“Close the window, it’s getting hot outside.”

The phone rang as he stood.

“Oh, look,” grunted his second, still seated at Cade’s desk. “It’s Seattle calling.”

Cade grinned. “I’d take it myself, but I have to play host again.” He turned to go.

“Hey, wait.” Michael paused with his hand on the phone. “Listen. If this all blows up in your face, do I get to say I told you so?”

“No. But if you’re good, I’ll let you clean up the mess.”

Chapter Six

So Cade MacDougall and Michal Wargman were assholes.

She didn’t find it flattering that they found her sexy. Lots of guys found her sexy. It wasn’t the compliment she’d imagined it would be when she was young. Whatever their opinion of her appearance, they didn’t want her here.

Crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders, she told herself it didn’t matter. She wasn’t staying. Her numerous friends in Sugar Land would welcome her home. If she could go home, which she couldn’t, because she’d beaten a guy half to death. She could explain
why
she’d done it. But
how
she’d managed to beat the crap out of a guy twice her size…that was a tough one.

Butch up, Dead Girl. It’s just a couple of jerks for a couple of weeks.

Her back to the house, she listened as Cade MacDougall left his office, walked across a hardwood floor and opened the front door. She couldn’t turn around until he was close enough for a normal human to hear him. It gave her time to tamp down the lonely fear and dismay she’d carried inside all the way from Texas.

By the time a mellow baritone said, “Miss Kendall?” she’d relaxed and pasted on her best coolly polite smile.

She turned. The most beautiful wolf she’d ever seen flashed a smile of his own—raffish, supremely self-assured—and Ally forgot to breathe.

For a split second, she feared she might reach up to run her fingers through his loose curls, jet-black like Dylan’s. His closely trimmed beard matched his hair. His eyes were crystal green (like Dylan’s), with lashes way too thick for a big tough werewolf (like Dylan’s). His mouth was full and sensual. (She’d never thought about Dylan’s mouth. She refused to start now.)

The wolf could really rock a pair of jeans. A tattoo on his well-developed right biceps peeked out from his polo sleeve. And the way his white collar framed the top of his chest, highlighting the hollow of his throat…

You’re pathetic,
she sneered to herself. If she hadn’t recently sworn off men for the rest of her life, she wouldn’t be hyperventilating like a virgin in a locker room.

“Miss Kendall?” he repeated, probably accustomed to rendering women mute. “I’m Cade MacDougall. Welcome to my home.” He spoke in a slow, sexy drawl. Her hand retained his heat after he let go.

“Thank you. Please call me Ally.” Hey, she was speaking normally.
You go, you tough little freak of nature, you.
As soon as she thought it, her mind went blank again.

He waited, apparently expecting her to say something else. After an agonizing second or two, he cleared his throat and said, “I apologize for the confusion earlier. I’d intended to greet you all myself.”

“That’s okay.” She laughed self-consciously, in a weirdly high pitch. “Shawn said that was your nanny peeling out of here.” MacDougall frowned. Belatedly, she remembered Shawn’s warning. “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t supposed to…I mean, Shawn said not to ask… And I wasn’t, I was just…”

Crap.
She’d already pissed him off.

When she glanced up, he was smirking at her. The more she tried not to blush, the more she blushed. Just before her face spontaneously combusted, Dylan dashed out of the house.

A sincere smile replaced MacDougall’s arrogant grin as he watched his nephew run toward them.

“Ally! You gotta see the house, it’s awesome! Did you know I’m Scottish?”

She laughed. “Yeah, baby, I did. When I heard your father’s last name was MacDougall, I kinda figured.” She turned to Cade. “Dylan spent the first semester of his senior year on a study program in Scotland.”

“You enjoy it, Dylan? My dad was very proud of our heritage.”

“Yeah— I mean, yes, sir. I did.”

“So where’d you go for your senior trip?” Cade asked as the three of them headed for the house.

“Oh God, please don’t get him started,” Ally groaned.

“I didn’t get a chance to go,” the teenager muttered. “We came up here instead.”

“You mean they dragged you up here before you had one last fling with your bros?” MacDougall threw an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. Something proprietary and offended flared within her. She mentally slapped herself. She’d brought him up here to meet his uncle, to find him a pack, to
let him go.

“He’s been to Florida a dozen times already,” she said with forced lightheartedness. “And I know he’s been drunk before, even though he thinks he’s good at sneaking.”

MacDougall grinned at her over his shoulder, and she had to remind herself to breathe again.

She scrambled to keep up with the two long-legged wolves. MacDougall, a hair taller than Dylan, swaggered with an easy grace the teenager was just beginning to exhibit.

Shawn appeared on the porch as they climbed the front steps. “I’ll pack up Mrs. Palmer’s stuff. Ally can have her room.” He grinned at Ally. “It has a huge bathroom.” He turned to Cade. “Chicks dig big bathrooms.”

“That won’t work.” Cade turned to look down at her. They were standing so close she had to tip her head back to see his face. He smelled wonderful—musky and male, with an overlay of sweet tobacco.

Humans couldn’t make eye contact with alphas, and she avoided doing things humans couldn’t do, so she had to stare at his mouth. Her fingers itched as she imagined running one over his mustache and then down across his firm, wide bottom lip. His black beard, close-trimmed, looked soft to the touch. She’d never kissed a guy with a beard before. What would it feel like on her neck?

She looked eighteen. She wasn’t accustomed to
feeling
eighteen.

“That room connects to Becca’s with a door that doesn’t lock. You won’t get any peace. She likes to ramble.”

“Becca’s your daughter?”

His smile this time was tender, erasing all signs of his earlier annoyance. If she could’ve looked at his eyes, she knew she’d see the smile there. “She just turned four. I have no idea what happened with Mrs. Palmer today. This house has some kind of nanny-repelling force.”

Trailing Cade, Shawn and Dylan into the house, Ally found herself in a large entryway filled with light pouring in from the window above the front door. To the left was a large office, to the right an open room with a dining table that could seat twenty people easily. The foyer led into a cavernous living room made even bigger by a cathedral ceiling.

An open staircase led up to the second story, a loft ringed by an elaborately carved banister. She saw at least six rooms up there.

The back wall of the living room featured a massive fireplace with inlaid stones. Mounted in the stones above the fireplace was a coat of arms. She’d seen things like it in faux British pubs, but this one looked much more impressive. She noticed that Dec was staring at it with a strange expression on his face.

“I’ve never seen a coat of arms in someone’s house before,” she said.

“It’s not a coat of arms, darlin’. That’s the crest badge of the Clan MacDougall,” he murmured.

“Is it the same as a coat of arms?”

“No. A crest badge identifies a particular Scottish clan. Coats of arms belong to families or individuals.”

“You’re gonna tell me you can read it, aren’t you?”

“It’s Scottish Gaelic. It can mean either
Victory or Death
, or
Conquer or Die
.” He grinned, winked, and wandered off to look at something else.

A door to the right of the fireplace led into another room behind the wall. The huge chimney she’d seen sticking out of the middle of the roof must be for a double fireplace. The walls and floors were constructed of light-colored wood, with no sheetrock or carpeting. The Scandinavian-style furniture and plush area rugs spoke of understated wealth.

Dylan was right. This was indeed awesome. She couldn’t live here, she reflected wistfully, but she hoped he could.

A little girl called out, “Daddy?”

Cade sighed. “I knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep after all that commotion.”

“I’ll go find Sindri,” said Shawn.

“No, don’t bother him. I’ll get her.” He called upstairs. “Hang on, Baby Girl. I’ll be up there in just a minute.”

She fancied she could feel his breath on her neck all the way up the stairs.

When they reached the second floor and halted outside a large room, she saw her luggage on the bed.