“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!”
C
HAPTER
29
“M
e,” 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.”
Dee stormed away from them and the beauty faced Rory. He grinned. “How you doin’, darlin’?”
“I come to Manhattan and yet the hillbillies still manage to find me,” she announced to the air.
God, she was so mean. He loved mean.
“And get that look out of your eye, redneck. I’m taken.”
Man, but was she taken. The scent of the cat who’d claimed her covered her from freshly done hair to freshly painted toes. It was like the feline had rubbed himself all over her before he’d let her out the door.
“You don’t think I’m afraid of a little ol’ cat, do ya?” Rory asked.
She smiled and Rory felt his nuts tighten. “Actually, sport,” she leaned in and finished on a whisper, “you should probably be more afraid of me.”
She winked and stepped away from him. Rory was ready to fight the cat to the death for this woman when his best friend of the last thirty-five years walked out of the dressing room. Stunned, he stepped back.
“God, Dee-Ann.”
“That bad?”
He shook his head but the beauty answered, “No. I think it’s that good. See what a few extra dollars will buy you?” She nodded, clearly appreciating her own skill. “You look much less frightening. My God, I’m good.” She looked Dee over, but stopped at her head. “You’ll have to do something about that mop on your head, though.” Dee snarled and the woman laughed at her. “Don’t bare your fangs at me, hillbilly.” She took a card out of her tiny handbag. “Here. Call this salon, tell them Angelina sent you. They’ll take care of you.”
She glanced at the diamond-studded watch on her wrist. “Must fly. I have to go to this stupid charity auction tonight.”
Rory pointed at Dee. “Dee’s probably going to the same thing.”
“Then I’m glad I helped, otherwise I would have been forced to mock her relentlessly if she’d worn that other dress. Oh.” She pointed at Rory. “Pick out some shoes you think are sexy. Something with a heel.”
“A heel?” Dee yelped.
“Thankfully, the dress is long enough to cover up the actual size of those feet, but I’m sure your boyfriend will like them.”
She walked off. “Nice meeting you both.”
“Hot,” Rory sighed, watching the woman’s ass sashay away from him. “So very fuckin’ hot.”
Without a word, Dee headed back to her dressing room.
“Where are you going, Dee?”
“Going to change so I can beat the fuck out of you without worrying about getting blood on this overpriced dress!”
“But,” Rory complained, “I haven’t picked out the shoes yet!”
Ric pulled out his tux, shoes, shirt, and tie in preparation for that evening’s dance. Normally he limited his attendance to this sort of thing. He didn’t mind giving money or volunteering to help on a grassroots level, but dressing up in a tux and mingling with the rich and powerful was not something he enjoyed doing very often. But he’d attend this event at his uncle’s request as a representative of the Van Holtz family and also because he’d need a good alibi. Because tonight was the night that the Group would deal with Matilda Llewellyn and the betrayal of her kind.
It should be something that Ric or one of the other supervisors handled themselves, but his uncle had taken it and Ric was just fine with that. Because Matilda Llewellyn was top of the food chain politically and had been around for a very long time, Van didn’t want any of those involved in this to also be involved in her death. Prides could be very fussy about that sort of thing.
Besides Matilda would not be easy to take down, no matter her age. So Ric would do what his cousin told him to do and go to a charity dance. It shouldn’t be too bad, though. Lock and Gwen were going to attend and, more importantly, so would Dee. It would be their first time out as an official couple and he couldn’t wait to show her off.
“Hey.”
Smiling, he stood and faced the woman he’d just been thinking about. “Hey.” Ric blinked. “Did you do something to your hair?”
She shrugged, appearing completely distraught. “They tried, but apparently my hair is too unruly and they didn’t know how to hide the damage to my ear from when Teacup shot me. Eventually the hairstylist just said, and I’m quoting here, ‘Fuck it.’ That’s what she said. About my hair. ‘Fuck it.’ ”
“I hope you didn’t tip her.”
“After what I paid for this goddamn dress, you’re damn right I didn’t tip her.”
“You bought a dress?”
She dropped the shopping bags she had in her hands. “What do you think I have in here?”
“I never thought it would be a dress.”
“I don’t want you embarrassed when you have to go to these things.”
“I wouldn’t be. No matter what you were wearing.”
“You say that now—”
“Dee-Ann, I don’t care if you come in your jeans and boots . . . as long as you’re comfortable and happy.”
She grunted at him, which was kind of new. She’d grunted at others, but never him.
“Whatever you do, don’t get used to it,” she went on. “It’s too expensive, the sales people hate me, and apparently I have freakishly large shoulders that can’t be fitted correctly in clothes so strangers feel the need to come up and give me fashion advice. I never wanna go through this again!”
Ric rushed to her side and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Never again. I promise. Let’s do this thing tonight to appease my cousin and then that’s it.”
“Will we have to get married?”
Sensing an oncoming panic attack because that question had come out of left field, Ric calmly told her, “That’s a decision we can make ourselves at another time.”
“Rory Reed says we’ll have to get married because all Van Holtzes get married, but marriages are just a waste of money. Especially for wolves.”
Damn that Rory Reed!
“First off, you’ll never have to worry about money again.” And when her eyes narrowed to angry slits, he quickly added, “Not because you’ll be living off me but because you already have so much of your own money and your career has nowhere to go but up!”
Her eyes un-narrowed a bit.
Nicely handled, Van Holtz. Nicely handled.
“And, when we get this whole thing with Matilda Llewellyn resolved and everything has calmed down, we’ll discuss what we want to do and what we don’t. But not tonight and not right now.”
She let out a breath. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “We’re in this together, Dee. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t,” she whispered, hugging him back.
“I’m sorry, Ulrich,” Mrs. M. said from behind them.
“It’s all right, Mrs. M.” He kissed Dee’s neck before stepping away from her. “What is it?”
Mrs. M. frowned a bit. “Your mother’s here to see you.”
Not exactly what he was ready to hear, but probably for the best. He’d have to see her sometime. But before he could get good and worried about it, Dee slipped her hand into his. “Come on.” She smiled at him. “It’s time I got a proper introduction to your momma.”
Dee immediately saw where Ric got his looks from, even with the tears streaming down his mother’s face and her eyes blue instead of brown. He was clearly his mother’s son and in more ways than one, considering how upset she was.
“I’m so sorry, son. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Ric told her, hugging his mother tight.
Maybe not, but the She-wolf hadn’t actually protected him either.
Of course, Dee tried hard not to judge other She-wolves. The Lewis and Smith Pack females were tough mothers, never letting their pups get away with anything. But they were also well-known as notoriously dangerous females when it came to protecting their pups, hunting down anyone who got too close or harmed their pups even slightly. And if you harmed their pups more than slightly? You’d be lucky if anyone found
pieces
of you, much less whole parts.
Even worse, though, was that Ric went out of his way to protect his mother. He hadn’t planned to tell her about any of what his father had done, and his cousin Van had promised to say nothing as well. But they should have made Irene promise the same thing, because once she’d found out that neither male had said a word, she’d picked up the phone and called Jennifer Van Holtz herself, telling her everything. About the money that was stolen, the attack on Ric and Stein, and what would now happen to her, her eldest son, and her idiot husband. Irene had held nothing back, proving once and for all that Dee liked that strange full-human woman more than she could say.
“I don’t want you to worry about anything,” Jennifer told her son. “We’re going back to Colorado. We’ve already discussed it with my parents and the Alphas and it’s done.”
Dee didn’t know if it would be that easy. She didn’t see someone like Alder Van Holtz happily slinking off into the mist because he was told to by the cousin he loathed and the mate he didn’t take seriously.
Honestly, the wolf should be grateful that he wasn’t a Smith. The Pack either would have run him off by now or just tossed him into the lake with Ralph the alligator and let them fight it out.