Moore, Gigi - Desiree's Lone Wolves [The Double R, Book 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

Sam had gone over what he would say to Desiree when he saw her, rehearsing his lines and his reactions to being near her, for hours in the mirror since Saturday. It was a simple thing to bring back the basket. He knew, however, it might mean more to both of them than the world. Simple things sometimes did that, and he wanted to be prepared.

When he walked up the path leading to the back door of the main house and knocked, he was let down that the housekeeper, Maria, answered the door. He didn’t know why he expected Desiree would be the one to greet him since there were so many other people living in the house, any number of whom could have come to the door.

Sam pasted a smile on his face to hide his disappointment and held up the basket. “Came to drop this off for Desiree.”

Maria returned his smile and opened the door wide to let him enter the kitchen.

Maria welcomed everyone into her kitchen. Her motto was the more the merrier, and she always had enough food and treats to offer visitors who dropped by. She was just like his mother in this regard.

Not that Sam had dropped by or visited the main house all that often, just when he did, he’d always been warmly received by the family and offered something to eat or drink—Southern hospitality at its finest.

This was one of the main things he liked about being at The Double R, the familial atmosphere that mimicked pack mentality. This was one of the main reasons Mama, for once in a long time, looked forward to hanging around for a while and laying down stakes.

Carson remained wary, not ready to let down his guard, though Sam knew his brother liked living on the ranch, too. It was one of the few places where they felt at home, or as at home as they could feel in a strange land surrounded by strangers and nonshifters.

“Come in and have a seat. I’m sure Desiree will want to see you.” Maria motioned to one of several high-back stools surrounding the marble island in the middle of the large kitchen.

Sam followed her but remained standing. “I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
Liar.
Of course he wanted to interrupt. That’s why he had come at chow time, hoping for an invitation, and Maria did not disappoint.

“We are just settling down for dinner, but I am sure you are more than welcome to stay and join us. There is plenty for an extra mouth or two.”

Sam didn’t miss the twinkle in the older woman’s eyes and grinned in response. “I…”

He frowned, suddenly catching a scent that shouldn’t have been in the house but was.

Sam took a deep breath as surreptitiously as he could and caught the scent again. He was surprised he hadn’t caught it when he’d first arrived. It was a strong, familiar shifter scent. He staggered and caught his balance, grabbing the back of one of the stools with one hand while he dropped the basket to the floor from his other.

Maria instantly came to his side and put an arm around his waist.

He almost laughed at the incongruity of a petite, if plump, woman, the top of her head barely reaching his chest, coming to his hard-muscled and virile assistance.

Merde,
he hated seeming like a weak little female and couldn’t for the life of him understand why he’d become so unsteady and lightheaded all of a sudden.

That scent. It can’t be. Can it?

“Are you all right?”

“I just need to sit for a minute. Maybe I worked out in the sun too long today.” He saw the doubt in her eyes as he lied. Being a night wrangler, he didn’t spend too many hours in the sun exerting himself.

“I thought I heard your voice.”

He watched as Desiree entered the kitchen and stopped on the threshold, his heart doing double-time in his chest as he straightened. No way could he let her see him weak in the knees and needing a seat to get his bearings.

Christ, the scent was stronger on Desiree, as if she’d been near the source, nearer than Maria had been, at least for a longer time.

What was going on? Could he be here? What was his connection to Desiree?

Desiree frowned at him. “You don’t look too well, Sam.”

“I’m right as rain. I just came by to drop off the basket and thank you again for the pie. It was delicious.”

“I see, but you didn’t have to literally drop the basket, did you?”

Sam followed her glance to the floor where the basket had landed, then returned his gaze to her face and saw the way her lips twitched as if she were fighting back a laugh.

She raised her glance to meet his, a teasing gleam in her eyes before she averted her gaze.

“I will leave you two now. I am going back to the dining room.” Maria gave each of them a smile, as if she knew a secret, before she turned and left them alone.

Desiree bent at the waist to pick up the basket and place it on the island. She turned to catch him staring at her ass, but rather than address it, she said, “Thanks for bringing it back.”

“Were you expecting Carson?”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter who brought it back as long as I got it back.”

“He said the same thing,” Sam admitted. “Just in a different way.”

“I can imagine his way.”

Sam noticed her wry expression and imagined that she could. She and Carson were more alike than not. His brother probably wouldn’t see it, nor would Desiree, but Sam could. They were both suspicious and wary of strangers and took a long time to warm up to people. Hell, the woman had been on the ranch almost a year, and the other day was the first time he had had a halfway meaningful conversation with her. He had conversations with the ranch guests all the time, but then he was paid to in most instances, taking the kids out horseback riding, entertaining them and their parents in the Old West town. This with Desiree, however, was more intimate an encounter than that. He wanted it to be even more so.

“Was there anything else? Did you want to put in an order for another pie?” She grinned.

“We can do that?”

“I told Carson I’d love to make you boys another pie. I love to cook.”

“We noticed.”

“It’s always better when there’s someone to enjoy the fruits of my labor, of course.”

“Mama says the same thing.”

“She’s a great cook and an even better teacher. Between her and Maria, I can’t help but improve and expand my culinary skills.”

“That’s really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Improving and expanding my skills?”

“That, and being good at things.”

“I’ve always believed if I’m going to do something I should do it right and do it well or at least to the best of my ability.”

“Same goes.”

“I’ve noticed.” She gave him that shy smile again, the one that made her whiskey eyes twinkle right before she averted her gaze and shuffled her feet like a schoolgirl talking to her crush on the playground.

Putting her on the spot he asked, “Have you really noticed?”

“You and your brother do your jobs so well I’ve
noticed
all the women on the ranch falling all over you boys while you work.”

“Would all those women include you?”

“I’ve noticed,” she repeated.

Desiree proved a tough nut to crack. And she would be his to crack.

Mine and Carson’s.

He hadn’t forgotten about the scent he’d picked up earlier. He wanted to ask her about it but didn’t know how. How did he go about asking a woman why she had another male’s scent on her, especially when it was possible he was wrong? It had been a dog’s age, after all.

“Are you okay, Sam? Be truthful, because you really didn’t look too good when I came in. Weren’t getting butterflies about coming up to the big house, were you?”

“Look who’s talking, when it took you months to venture out to the barn and the Western town before last Saturday.”

She chuckled. “Okay, you got me.”

The deep, sultry sound of her laugh washed over him like the finest cream, warm and sweet. The sound made him close his eyes for a moment as his cock jerked in response.

“Not the social type, huh?”

“I haven’t been, but now…” She let the rest of her sentence go unsaid, but Sam didn’t miss her glancing back out toward the dining room.

Was that where her date for the evening remained, the one who pulled her out of her antisocial shell? Was he the one Sam smelled on her?

Sam wanted to believe that he and Carson had worn her down, that she’d been on the ranch long enough to get used to them and wanted to be around them, not that some new Jack was in town beating his and Carson’s time. What else could it be, though? Who was that he smelled on her?

Sam wanted to be mistaken, but he couldn’t deny the aroma, and his olfactory senses were almost never wrong. Carson said he had polar bear and bloodhound mixed in with his wolf.

The next moment, he didn’t have to wonder anymore about who had joined the family for dinner at the main house, because Remy Bastien found his way into the kitchen.

The alpha paused beside Desiree, aimed a facsimile of a smile Sam’s way, and asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to our newest arrival?”

Chapter 7

It was too late to run, at least and not look suspect in Desiree’s eyes. Besides, where would he go? The big bad wolf was here, not just breathing outside their door but cozily ensconced in the house with their allies.

He knew he was being a sight magnanimous with the designation, but he couldn’t think of another term for his employers and Desiree’s family. They certainly weren’t enemies.

What would they think, however, if they knew about Carson’s past, what he had done?

They probably wouldn’t take it half as bad as the pack had. After all, they were humans governed by laws nowhere near as exacting as pack law. Sam had seen murderers get off scot-free on technicalities in the human world. There were no such technicalities in pack law. If one shifter killed another, that shifter forfeited his life, no ifs, ands, or buts. Not to mention pack law superseded all other.

Carson may not have meant to kill Duane, but his intent did not matter to the pack. Only the alpha had the right to commute Carson’s sentence, and Remy had been in the midst of considering just this when Mama and Kara had broken Carson out of the pack’s stronghold.

What would Remy do to save face after the breakout?

“Remy Bastien, this is one of the ranch’s night wranglers, Sam Quarry. Sam, this is Remy Bastien, a new client of Carpenter-Reynolds.”

“Come now, Desiree. Don’t be modest. My and my group’s financial well-being is in your capable hands. I’m
your
client.” Remy smiled and stepped forward with one hand outstretched toward Sam. “Good to meet you, Sam…
Quarry
, was it?”

Sam hesitated as long as it took him to decide that he had no other choice. He’d come this far, after all, and it looked as if Remy wanted to play things close to the vest, act like he didn’t know Sam from Adam’s housecat. “Good to meet you…Remy Bastien.”

Remy’s shake was firm as he gave Sam’s hand a slight squeeze, maintaining eye contact.

Sam met his gaze, refusing to avert his own, and after a long moment, Remy released his hand and smiled as if in approval.

He folded his arms across what Sam knew to be a hard-muscled chest and rocked back on his heels as he gave Sam a speculative look. “So, you’re a night wrangler. What exactly does that title comprise?”