Eggie dropped the deer at the base of the porch and came up the steps. He stopped, turned, shifted to human and, naked, sat down on the top step. Darla didn’t start asking him questions because she knew he’d get around to telling her when he was good and ready.
After a few minutes, he started talking. “Need to go to New York.”
“All right.”
He scratched his knee and Darla peeked through her lashes at her mate. He was no longer the young wolf who’d sat outside her window night after night, howling at her, being run off by her daddy, brothers, and cousins, only to come back and start the whole thing over again. Strange, Darla hadn’t thought she’d ever end up with a Smith male. They were more her sisters’ speed. Lots of drama and arguing and getting each other jealous. Darla didn’t have the patience for all that foolishness. She liked things calm and quiet. It never occurred to her at the time that a wolf who had become universally feared, not only by his own Pack but by nearly every other, would be her mate. Especially one nicknamed Eggie. But he’d been the one and still was. And, even better, he’d managed to keep that delicious physique she’d learned to love all those years ago. The body was older, had a lot more scars, but still . . . damn.
“Like you to come with me,” he grumbled.
That made Darla miss a stitch, something that over the years she’d taught herself not to do when Eggie and her baby girl were around and she never knew what they’d do or say next.
“Pardon?”
He shrugged. “I need you to come with me.”
“Whatever for?” Not once, in all the years they’d been together had Eggie Smith ever asked her to come out on a job with him. Not ever. And Darla never thought he would. Then why was he now?
“You need me to come with you? Why?” she pushed when he didn’t answer her first question.
“I need you to talk some sense into our dang daughter, that’s why.”
“About what?”
Eggie grumbled, cussed under his breath, grumbled some more, and finally snarled, “She’s just gone and fallen for the bullshit of some damn Van Holtz.”
“Oh.” Darla felt her heart leap, but she kept her face purposely blank. The thought that her daughter might have found herself a mate, that she wouldn’t end up old, alone, wandering these Tennessee hills with no pups to call her own had worried Darla something fierce. Wolves simply weren’t meant to be alone and Dee-Ann was more wolf than nearly anybody Darla knew except Eggie.
“Which one?” There were so many Van Holtzes.
“That supervisor of hers. Taking advantage is what I say. It’s inappropriate work place somethin’ or other.”
“I see.” Because their baby girl was such a frail, easily manipulated little female, of course. Darla picked up her stitching, already daydreaming about having little grandbabies she could stitch things for and holidays when they’d come to visit.
“A Van Holtz,” Eggie growled. “Heard she’s already living with him in some fancy penthouse. My little girl. And you know Bubba Ray’s gonna have a fit over this.”
“Probably.” Darla stitched a little more and added, “But I’m sure he thinks Dee-Ann’s just desperate to get herself a man now that Sissy Mae has one. Figures she’s settled on the first one who showed her any interest, so maybe he won’t take this all so badly.”
Eggie looked at her, annoyance pulling his heavy brows down practically to his nose. “That’s a load of bull. My baby girl don’t have to settle for nobody.”
“I know. But you know how Bubba can be.”
“He can damn well keep his mouth shut. At least my Sugar Bug has picked someone in the same damn species, even if it is a Van Holtz. And if a Van Holtz is what she wants, she’ll damn well get one.”
“I guess.” Darla put her stitching back into the wicker basket she kept by her rocking chair and headed into the house. “Guess I better go pack.” She’d only gotten to the stairs of their cozy home when she quickly returned to the back porch and yelled out, “Egbert Ray Smith! You get your butt back here right this second! You can deal with your brother later!”
CHAPTER 29
“Me,” Dee-Ann said again, looking as if she was on the verge of tears. “Going to a charity auction dance. I feel like an idiot!”
“You look like one, too,” Rory told her, shaking his head while he sat and watched her try on dress after dress. None of them fitting her right. Rory would admit, Dee-Ann was the only female in the world he’d take time out of his day to come to this high-end, shifter-friendly store to help find a damn dress for a damn dance. A dance she’d be attending with Ulrich Van Holtz of all people. He knew Dee liked the little runt, but he’d had no idea they’d gotten so . . . close. Then she’d gone off to Washington after the Fourth of July weekend and had come home marked, mated, and forced to go to dances.
It was like the world was off its axis!
“I think this dress is quite complimentary,” the sales girl told them and Rory could tell his friend was real close to beating that cute little fox to death for being such a big, fat liar.
“You can’t be serious,” he argued.
The sales girl glared at Rory. “I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to get a commission, but you’re not going to do it by making my friend look like an idiot.”
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” the sales girl snapped. “I’m not a miracle worker!”
Rory shot off the couch and yanked the fox out of the way of Dee-Ann’s slashing claws and snapping fangs.
“Dee-Ann!”
“She started it!”
Rory sent the sales girl off and attempted to help Dee on his own. “Maybe we should get you something shorter. You do have decent legs.”
“Thanks, Rory. That means a lot.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Try harder!”
Rory heard a delicate throat clear and he looked over at a dark-haired Latina beauty that he was ready to give up everything he had or would ever have just for one night with her.
“Well, hello, darlin’.” He started to walk over to her, but Dee caught him by the hair and yanked him back. “Damn it, Dee-Ann!”
“Do not piss me off, Rory Lee Reed. And do not leave me to go on a pussy hunt.”
“If you’re interested,” the beauty answered, seemingly unaware of their tusslin’, “I can make a suggestion.”
“Are you actually trying to help me,” Dee asked, “or just torture me like the rest of them?”
“Don’t know you well enough to want to torture you.” She smiled at Rory. “I usually save that for my friends.”
“So, darlin’,” Rory began, “are you new in town?”
“Rory Reed!” Dee snapped.
“Sorry, sorry.” It was a hard habit to break. Beautiful woman with long legs and a curvy body and Rory was a lost wolf.
“I’m desperate,” Dee admitted to the female Rory now realized was a full-human. Surprising. There was something so predatory about her he’d just assumed she was feline.
“Don’t panic.” The beauty walked up behind Dee and studied her in the mirror. “It’s your shoulders. They’re huge.”
“Because I need more bitchy comments about my body.”
“Just an observation. You’ve gotta work with what you’ve got.” She went to one of the racks and pulled out a sleeveless floor-length blue thing and handed it to Dee. “Try this on.”
Dee looked at the price tag, her eyes wide. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
“Look, hillbilly,” the woman snapped, “it costs money to make someone clearly raised in a holler look good. Now get your skinny ass in that room and try the damn thing on before I get testy.”