Chapter 30
Austin got me.
We spent the next three weeks moving everything from their old place, Mom’s house, and my apartment, over to the fixer-upper that Austin had purchased. Maybe it needed a little work, but it was cozy with charm and personality. It was a place I could call home.
Mom quit her job so she could help get the house in order in addition to feeding the crew of hungry men. In return, Austin not only compensated her with a room, but insisted that he pay her. Mom felt weird about it at first, but I convinced her what she was doing was legitimate work. Shopping, laundry, cooking, decorating—all in addition to becoming the matriarch of the house. I didn’t think the arrangement would last; eventually Mom would insist she was doing it because she loved to. It was a good way to get her mind off my dad and everything that had transpired. I never found out what Lorenzo had done with him, and I didn’t want to know.
“Denny! Time for ice cream,” Maizy called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“Mr. Denny,” I corrected her.
“No. That’s Mr. Reno,” she said, pointing to Reno as he carried a bright red toolbox down the hallway. “And then there’s Mr. Cole, Mr. Jericho, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Ben, and Denny! He’s not a Mister. He’s just Denny.”
“Why?”
Maizy shrugged. “’Cause he just is,” she argued with six-year-old logic.
“Why don’t you and Denny go treasure hunting for diamonds?” I suggested.
Denver did a little hop step coming down the stairs, wearing tattered jeans, flip-flops, and a Pink Floyd shirt.
“Jericho’s going to kill you if he catches you wearing that,” I said.
He brushed his fingers through his short locks of sandy-blond hair. “Yeah, yeah. Been hearing that for decades. They sell this stuff vintage on the Internet.”
“I’m ready!” Maizy called out from the doorway. Actually, she was swinging on the door, holding onto the brass knobs and wrapping her legs around either side.
“Are you stopping by the old house today to see if she’ll show you where she buried those diamonds?” I asked him in a quiet voice.
“For what?”
“Because she may forget someday, and that’s fifty million in your backyard.”
“So? It’s just money,” he said, fishing out his wallet. Denver thumbed through a few bills, doing a count. “Think it’ll make your life better? No, it’ll make it complicated. People covet money and do stupid shit over it. We’re happy, we got a house, and I need to get this girl a strawberry cone before she tears up the door,” he said, flip- flopping across the main room. “Skedaddle!” he barked at her.
Maizy squealed and ran out the front door toward his yellow pickup.
Denver had taken over as her watchdog, and apparently it wasn’t uncommon in a pack for a wolf to step in as the protector for a fatherless child or woman. It wasn’t a parental role, as Denver was more of a brother to her, but it gave me peace of mind knowing my family would be looked after. A pack bonded in ways humans didn’t, and it was a way of life that felt natural the more I became immersed in it.
I heard coins jingling and spun around. Austin stood in the hallway, twirling the key ring around his finger and giving me a peculiar look.
“What?”
“Busy?” he asked.
“Well, I was going to go to the movies later with Naya. I think she misses me being right next door. She mentioned something about how the new tenant that just moved in is seventy and single. Plus, I need to talk to her about the whole Shifter thing she kept from me.” I gave him a look. “Why?”
“Let’s take a drive,” he said, holding my hand and lacing his fingers with mine.
My brown summer skirt swished below my knees and matched the bohemian sleeveless top that tied behind my neck. I didn’t wear skirts outside of work, and I could tell Austin enjoyed seeing me in something feminine. He didn’t mention where we were going, so I rolled the windows down in his black muscle car and switched on the radio.
“Wheeler helping you sort things out?” he asked.
“He seems reluctant to get involved, but he’s helped me out with a few things. Maybe I won’t be so bad running a business after all; I’m learning a lot.”
Once the initial shock had worn off, April totally stepped up to the challenge. I bought a cell phone so she could call me at any time, and we had live meetings on the Internet. The first order of business was that she lost her cherry earring, and that segued into a discussion about our work gear, which I didn’t want to change.
April seemed to be going through some personal problems. I wasn’t sure if it was family or money, but I could hear it in her voice. I wished she’d open up to me, but some people had a harder shell to crack. She revealed she had been riding the city bus to work because her car had crapped out. I didn’t much care for that because April closed the shop late at night. She also had a fear of the dark, which is why she always went in the back room and turned on the main lights. I offered her my car, but she wouldn’t accept. April was like that—never accepted help from others. You can’t force your help on someone; you just have to trust they know what they’re doing. We went over the current state of affairs with the shop and I couldn’t help but start mentally planning the future of Sweet Treats.
“Okay, that’s it. Where are you taking me, Austin?”
He grinned fiercely with pressed lips, giving me the impression he had a secret. Austin had a very subtle cleft in his chin that was always more prominent when he did the lip-press thing.
The car rolled up to a rest stop just off the highway. The kind with dilapidated picnic tables and foul- smelling restrooms.
“Need to go to the little boy’s room?” I teased.
The engine purred to a stop and butterflies fluttered in my belly when I saw a group of men standing beneath a Texas live oak tree, watching us. Austin walked around the car to open my door and I realized he was taking me to them. I pulled the visor down to fix my lipstick.
“You look fine,” he said with a soft laugh, tugging my arm.
Tiny pebbles on the concrete scattered as I dragged my sandals across the sidewalk. Then Lorenzo turned around and a golden shower of sunlight melted across his shoulders, illuminating his dramatic features. Skin taut around his chiseled cheekbones—high and proud—and straight brown hair that touched the top of his skull and crossbones tattoo on his upper arm. He wasn’t smiling.
Austin squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”
Only Austin could make me laugh in the face of danger.
“Cole, we didn’t know if you changed your mind,” the older man said, staring at his watch. “She’s a fine- looking bitch.”
Austin’s arm stiffened, but he made no attempt to correct the man. That’s when I knew this guy held a higher rank. Perhaps there was a pecking order among the Packmasters.
Including Lorenzo, there was a total of four men. One was a tall, handsome black man with swoon-worthy eyes and freckles across his cheeks. The other guy looked like someone had picked him up at a truck stop—scruffy beard, shaggy hair, and sloppy clothes. The older man who’d spoke to Austin was a Sean Connery body double; I was certain of it.
“I’ve brought the Packmasters from neighboring territories here to be witness,” Sean Connery said.
“Uh, wait a second,” I interrupted, getting cold feet all of a sudden as to what exactly was about to go down.
