Wolf with Benefits (5 page)

“Somethin’ wrong?” He leaned in and whispered, “You want me to go over there and give ’em a Smith welcome?”

Jessie laughed. “Don’t you dare, Ricky Lee Reed. They’re paying a fortune. I mean a
fortune,
just to stay there for the summer. But I think they have motives.”

“Something illegal?”

“No. Nothing that interesting.”

“Then it must involve Johnny.” The young wolf, Johnny DeSerio, was Jessie’s adopted son. An eighteen-year-old kid with a gift for the fiddle. Could play a mean “Devil Went Down to Georgia” while Jessie Ann sang. But a strong, street-smart boy, so Ricky didn’t know why Jessie Ann worried about him so.

“It does, but I don’t want to discuss it.” She glanced into the living room and giggling pups ducked behind the couch. “Too many big ears around here.”

“Not a problem.”

He kissed her cheek and headed up the stairs to the third floor, where the Pack had given Bobby Ray his own office, and there were bedrooms for visiting wolves.

The door to Bobby Ray’s office wasn’t closed, and Ricky walked in to find the strong, powerful Alpha Male of his Pack tickling the ribs of his baby daughter and blowing raspberries on her belly while the little darling just laughed and laughed.

“Well, hello, Daddy!” Ricky cheered from the door.

Bobby Ray froze in mid-raspberry, but Ricky Lee was dang impressed when Bobby Ray’s baby girl angrily barked at him for the interruption.

“Now is that any way to talk to your godfather, brat?” Of course, she might not remember he was her godfather—the girl had six of them. Smith males believing their all-important daughters could never have
enough
protection.

Bobby Ray stood, lifting his daughter with him. “Where’s her momma?”

“Downstairs.”

With that, Bobby Ray tossed the child to Ricky Lee, who easily caught her. Not surprisingly, Jessie hated when they did that, but the tomboyish little girl adored it. Laughing, she clung to Ricky’s neck.

“How’s my favorite girl? How’s my little vampire?”

“Stop calling her that.”

“Hey. It wasn’t my idea to name her after Dracula’s first wife.”

Bobby dropped into his chair. “It’s the price I pay for love . . . I married a geek. And,” he added, annoyed, “these dogs may run around calling her Elisabeta all day long, but to me she’s just my Lissy Ann.”

“I wouldn’t worry.” Ricky sat at the desk across from Bobby. “She’s a hearty little gal. Look at these little legs. Sturdy. She’ll be out huntin’ and campin’ with the rest of us before you know it. Won’t need any fancy tents or generators with her.”

Bobby shuddered a little, most likely remembering that joint Pack camping trip they’d taken with the wild dogs in Alaska. It had not gone well. No. Not well at all.

Putting his big feet up on his desk, Bobby studied Ricky a moment before stating, “So . . . guess you heard about Laura Jane.”

 

Miki sat on the couch, but unlike Irene and Freddy, she sort of flopped on it, her bare feet landing dangerously close to Irene’s thigh. How these two had become friends, Toni didn’t know, because although equally brilliant and both full-humans mated to wolves, they were still quite different as women.

“So what brings you here?” Miki asked, unaware of the way Irene moved away from her extremely tiny feet. Irene was not a big fan of feet . . . or of being touched by anyone but her children and Uncle Van.

“Freddy wanted to see you before you two left tomorrow.”

Irene’s head tilted to the side, her brain working. She said, “I thought you guys were leaving tonight, too.”

Toni kept her face blank and, after a moment, Irene sighed. “Don’t tell me that woman has decided to stay here.”

“That woman is your best friend and
of course
she decided to stay here. How hard can it be to move your entire family of thirteen to Manhattan at the very last minute?”

“When you have money? Not hard at all. But why?”

“Because of Johnny DeSerio.”

“Is he a mobster?”

Toni sighed. “Aunt Irene, we’ve had this discussion. Not everyone who is Italian is a mobster—”

“I know.”

“—or on a Jersey-based reality TV show.”

“That I’m still not sure about.”

“And he’s that young violinist she met at one of her master classes last summer.”

“Oh, yes. I remember. She’s been going on about him for months now. Did she finally snag him?”

“Before I decide whether to be morally superior,” Miki cut in, “what are we talking about your mother wanting to do with this person? Have sex with him or just—”

“No.”
Nope. Miki was not like Irene at all. “She wants him as a student. Kind of like you and Irene. A mentor-mentee kind of thing.”

“Except Irene was my thesis adviser when I was going for my PhD. Are you talking about that?”

“No. But as an artist—”

“Please. No. No ‘as an artist’ discussions. I’ve had them for two days now with your family. I’m done.”

Toni had to laugh. Over the years, she’d learned to tune the “as an artist” discussions out. But those not used to it . . .

“How hard can it be to entice this boy into your mother’s tutelage?” Irene demanded. “She’s Jacqueline Jean-Louis, not some desperate wannabe who still dreams of having a music career.”

“I love how you manage to sound arrogant for
other
people. And I don’t think the problem is the kid. It’s his mother. She’s one of the Kuznetsov wild dog Pack and
extremely
protective of him. Word is she decked some teacher that tore into him after a competition. Her mate had to drag her off the guy. So Mom’s proceeding with caution.”

“Actually . . . that sounds like a solid plan.”

“Yeah. I thought so.”

 

Holding his goddaughter on his lap, Ricky asked, “Perhaps you can explain to me this obsession women have with talking things out? I mean, what is there to talk about?”

“You know how your sister is. She assumes you’re still broken up over being dumped by Laura Jane.”

“I was eighteen. She was nineteen. And kind of a,” he covered his goddaughter’s ears with his hands, “whore.”

“Now, now. That’s my cousin, Ricky Lee.” When Ricky just stared at him, Bobby shrugged. “Who is kind of a whore.”

Ricky dropped his hands. “She was seeing at least two other guys when she was going out with me. At the time, it broke my heart . . . but also at the time, when my momma didn’t make blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings like she promised, that kind of broke my heart, too.”

“Not really a deep wolf, are ya, Ricky Lee?”

“Not if I can help it.”

 

“The worst part is that now I’ve got to call your friend tomorrow, Aunt Irene, and tell him I can’t take that job after all.”

Irene frowned. “My friend?”

“Mr. Weatherford. Who hired me to work in his office this summer.”

“Oh. Right.” Irene dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “I told him chances were extremely high you wouldn’t take the job and he should have a ready backup because he would probably find out last minute.”

Toni sat up straight. “Wait. You knew Mom was going to stay here for the summer?”

“No. Not at all.”

“But then why—”

“You always have to cancel your plans because of your family. Last summer it was because you went with Cooper and Cherise to Italy and then China for their concerts. The summer before that the entire family stayed in England because of Oriana’s scholarship with the Royal Ballet. And the summer before
that
—”

“Okay. Okay.”

“You always take these jobs and you can never actually do them—even though you so clearly want to—because of the loyalty you have to your family.” She shrugged casually. “When you think about it, you’ve given up your whole life for your family.”

“Isn’t that why that idiot you were dating last year ended it?” Miki asked. “Because of your commitment to your family?”

Toni gazed at the two women but didn’t respond. It wasn’t until Freddy put his hand on her knee and gazed up at her with those big brown eyes that Toni suddenly burst into tears.

 

“Well, you can stay the night if ya like,” Bobby Ray offered. “Doubt they’ll come looking for you here.”

“Why is that?”

“I tell Sissy that the Pack males hate staying here because the wild dogs get on their nerves.”

“But the wild dogs always have pie and brownies. And tons of action movies to watch. Why
wouldn’t
we stay here?”

“Because if the She-wolves think y’all hate it here, you might actually get some peace and quiet.”

“Then add in the fact the dogs never keep liquor around this place . . .”

Bobby Ray grinned. “Exactly.”

 

“She’s crying, Irene,” Toni heard Miki say, panic in her voice. “She’s crying!”

“Well, I don’t know what to do. She’s never cried around me before.”

“Um . . . Freddy, go into my room and get the box of tissues on the dresser.”

“And nothing else!” Toni managed to sobbingly yell after her brother as he charged into Miki’s room. “Just the tissues!”

Don’t worry. Toni had a very good therapist working with Freddy on his stealing issues, too.

“I’m so sorry, Toni,” Irene said, sitting on one side of her. “I didn’t mean to upset you like this. You’re not someone I purposely torment.”

“It’s all right,” Toni said, wiping her face with her hand. “It’s not your fault.”

Miki sat on the other side. “You should go back to Washington. Go tomorrow. Take the job. Your family will be fine here.”

“I can’t leave them,” Toni finally admitted to Irene and Miki—and to herself. “I can never leave them. Ever. First I’m the babysitter, then I’m going to be the spinster aunt, taking care of their brilliant kids one day. My small room filled with the knickknacks brought back by the children as they’ve traveled the world and lived their wonderful lives.”

Irene sighed. “Were you watching the original ‘Brideshead Revisited’ again?”

“I’m going to be the nanny. Left alone in her room, listening to the radio . . .”

“Will Winston Churchill be giving speeches?” Miki teased. “Come on, girl. Buck the fuck up. Your family can only get you down if you let them. Look at my friend Sara. She could have let her bitch grandmother totally destroy her. But instead, she just waited until she died, threw a party slash funeral, then her whole life changed for the better.”

“So you’re saying I should wait until my parents die?” Toni asked flatly.

“It’s a start—”

“No,” Irene argued. “Waiting on death is not an option. Especially since
both
sets of your grandparents are still alive. But you do need to start weaning your family off your proverbial teat as soon as possible.”

“Ew.”

“They shouldn’t be able to rely on you for their every need, Antonella.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No, buts. This is what I want you to do.” Irene put her arm around Toni’s shoulders. “You are going to stay here with your family this summer. I’m going to ask Ulrich to get you a job at one of his businesses. I know he can find you something. You will take the job and you will
do
the job. While you work, you will begin the weaning process.”

“They won’t like it.”

“I don’t care. I want you to be happy, and that means you cannot and
will
not continue to be the Jean-Louis Parkers’ gal Friday. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

Toni nodded, sniffled. That’s when she realized Freddy hadn’t come back yet. “Freddy!”

Her brother charged out of the room with a box of tissues. She briefly thought about strip-searching him, but that seemed excessive. Instead, she yanked a tissue from the box and blew her nose.

“Now,” Irene continued, “because I know how your family can be . . . and by that I mean your mother . . . I’m going to stay with all of you for at least the next month.”

“Aunt Irene, that’s not necessary.”

“It’s not a bother. Actually, I think you’re doing a lot of people a favor.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, my sons will be in Van Holtz cooking camp somewhere in Montana for the next month. For the next two weeks, Holtz and Ulrich are going to be in Germany for that big Van Holtz family meeting and then when they get back to the States, they’re going to Montana for the last two weeks of the cooking camp.”

“What about Ulva?”

“Who?”

Toni smirked. “Your daughter. The one you keep saying is a product of Satan although you also say you don’t really believe in the Judeo-Christian belief system.”

“Oh. Her. The demon child is going with her father to Germany. Whether she goes to cooking camp, I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“So . . . who am I helping by keeping you here?”

“The Pack back in Washington. Apparently they find me a little terrifying and off-putting. I’m not sure why. I have no claws. No fangs. I guess, technically, I could set them on fire with that cream I accidentally made a few years back, but it’s not as if I’d ever do that . . . unless, of course, I had to.” She glanced off, shrugged. “But I haven’t had to . . . so why worry?”

Toni and Miki locked gazes, then quickly looked away because they didn’t want to explain to Irene why they were laughing. No. Explaining that wouldn’t really help.

 

Ricky looked at his phone, saw all the missed calls from his sister, and turned it off completely. He simply didn’t have the time or energy for this.

Ricky was a big fan of looking forward not back.

He adored his baby sister, he really did. But Lord, she could work an issue. Work it until it was nothing but a nub. Ricky already knew that’s where this was headed. Ronnie Lee would make the whole thing an issue, and Sissy would blow it way out of proportion for no other reason than Sissy liked to blow things way out of proportion.