Stefan: Le Beau Brothers: New Orleans Billionaire Wolf Shifters with plus sized BBW for mates (Le Beau Series Book 3) (11 page)

“You need to get the hell away from me. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Stefan took a deep, calming breath. “I’m sorry. Your pain and injuries have me a little crazed right now. Please, come inside so I can see how badly you’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine.” El hobbled cautiously around him and into the house.

One look at her condition in the full light of the living room labeled her a liar. She was not fine and needed a doctor.

“Marie, call 911,” Stefan barked.

El scowled at his tone. “Don’t ever speak to my Grand-mère like that!” She turned to Marie and more calmly requested, “
Mémé
, please call the police. I need to report this.”

“You,” she said, twisting around to face Stefan again, “Either sit down and shut up or get out.”

Stefan wasn’t a stupid man; silently he took a seat on the couch.

Ten minutes later the cops were on their way to pick up Joe, and El was inspecting her injuries in the bathroom. She was worse off than she’d thought. Stefan was right, these injuries needed medical attention.

*****

Although it about killed him, Stefan waited until El was out of the emergency room to grill her about the night’s events.

Hitting the cancel button, El ended her call to Marie. She didn’t want her grand-mère to continue worrying.

“Are you up to telling me what happened now?”

“I was driving home and the truck began to stall,” she sighed. “Then one of my new tires blew and Patricia face-planted in the drainage ditch.”

A frisson ran up Stefan’s spine. “A brand, new tire blew out? Does your truck normally have issues? I know it’s getting old, but I thought it was running pretty good.” He searched her face and frowned.

“Hey, now. Don’t you be bad-mouthing Patricia. She runs just fine. I have no idea what was causing the engine to sputter. I just tuned her up and she was running like a top, and I put the new tires on her last week.”

He eyed her and concern filled his eyes. “When I get you home I’ll call my mechanic. I want them to check her over, make sure it wasn’t tampered with. If it really was running well with new tires, this may not be an accident at all.”

“What? Why would anyone want to mess with Patricia? That’s stupid,” she scoffed. “Besides, I do my own repairs. No one touches Patricia but me.”

“And you do a great job, too. But, I think she was tampered with. There have been issues surrounding my family and the women we’re interested in. It could very well be this was meant to do more than disable your vehicle.”

“See, like I said, there’s no reason to mess with her. No one’s interested in me, especially no one in your family.”

“You just keep telling yourself that, sugar.” He grinned. “But, it still needs a professional to look it over in case the police need a report.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. You’re right, we should tow her in,” El quietly conceded.

“Thank you. Can you tell me what happened with that Joe guy?”

“He chose the wrong woman,” El snickered. “That’s what happened. I was walking home in the rain and he offered me a ride. Most people out here are harmless so I got in.”

She told the story of accepting the ride and fighting her way out. By the end of her tale, his wolf was ready to rip the bastard apart, slowly, one joint at a time. 

“You’re right, he chose the wrong woman to victimize. If you hadn’t beaten the crap out of him, I would’ve done the job for you.”

She shook her head. “You aren’t the type of man to beat anyone. A lover, not a fighter, that’s what you told me. Remember? Or, were you lying.”

He pulled onto her driveway and glanced at her. “Make no mistake, cher, I may be a sweetheart most of the time. But, if I ever meet that man in person, he’ll experience a very lethal accident. He ripped your shirt open, didn’t he?”

“Yes, and then I smashed his nose into his skull.”

He and his wolf silently raged inside. She wasn’t comfortable with his outbursts. She didn’t understand them...yet.

“Stefan?”

As if from a great distance he heard his name spoken softly.

“Stefan.” This time it was a command. “Why are you growling like an animal? You did it before, too. What’s up with that?”

“I guess deep down, I’m just an animal,” he laughed.

The warm sound made her toes curl, and yet was confusing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” he chuckled with sparkling eyes.

El crossed her arms frowning
.

Whatever, you crazy person.

He parked close to the wraparound porch so she wouldn’t have to hobble so far. She was stiff and sore from her battle and he wanted to take care of her.

“Let me help you,” he said, opening his door.

“I have a broken arm. My legs work fine.”

“I'm trying to be a gentleman here, El,” he said with a smile. “My momma did raise me that way.”

“Well, didn’t she also teach you to keep it in your pants?”

Ah crud, did I just say that out loud?

“Touché. You’re right, I was a low-down dog. I’m not like that anymore. One of these days you’ll believe me.”

When she stepped from his truck, her foot slipped out from under her. She grabbed for the door, but she only had one good hand.

“Shit! That hurt like a mother.”

Stefan's arm whipped around her waist to catch her. “Careful, baby."

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“Take my arm. I don’t want you to slip on the slick stairs.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “I’m not an invalid.”

His lips spread into a wide grin. “No, you aren’t. But, this gives me a reason to touch you. And I like to touch you.”

Rolling her eyes, she hobbled into the house and out of his reach. Without invitation Stefan followed her. It was past midnight. What did he think he was doing?

The man is insufferable.

Mr. Crazy shook out his jacket and ruffled his rain-dampened hair.

Damn. Does he have to look good wet, too?

His lips twitched with mirth like he had thought of something amusing. El had no idea he was hearing all her thoughts. Once she found out, he was dead meat.

“Smells like
Mémé
made a fresh pot of coffee before she went to bed. Would you like a cup before you slither into whatever bed you’re mussing up tonight?”

“You really think very little of me, don’t you?”

She snorted. “Caught that, did you? I don’t care for man whores who have little to no respect for women.”

“Ouch. I guess I’ve earned that. But, here’s the thing. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. I’m not like that anymore.” More quietly he added, “I’m officially a one-woman man.”

She handed a steaming cup to Stefan and then took a seat in the recliner across the room. The more distance the better.

Without missing a beat Stefan grabbed the other recliner and pushed it next to her.

El blew out a heavy sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You.”

Coffee spewed across the room. El choked and sputtered so badly Stefan was afraid she would pass out.

“I’ve never known a woman who was so hard on a man’s ego. I’m very serious, El.” He waited until she looked at him. “You’re the only woman for me. Understand this, I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you of that.”

A shocked expression filled her eyes. “You really mean that.”

“More than you know.”

A short time later, bandaged and sporting a temporary cast, El finally fell into bed.

Nursing El

Still groggy from the painkillers she’d taken the night before, El yawned. “OUCH!”

Stiffness had set in overnight and she was sore everywhere. Even a simple thing like a yawning was painful.

“Morning chores are going to suck,” she grumbled to herself.

El laid in bed for a few more minutes, working up the fortitude to actually stand. She wondered if Stefan was still asleep in the guestroom, or if he’d gone to the barn. Try as she might, he wouldn’t leave last night.

She’d had another dream about Stefan, a really weird one.

Why would I dream about him turning into a wolf?

Those painkillers must have been stronger than she’d thought.

With a grunt, she made another attempt to stand and get dressed, only to collapse back to the mattress. Left panting in pain from the effort, she admitted it wasn’t happening. As she took a breather, she couldn’t help but think over what had happened last night. About what Stefan had said right before she went to bed. Was it possible for him to commit to one woman? Dare she believe him?

Men are confusing.

Up to this point, she’d only had a few relationships. Disastrous was too mild a description for how they’d turned out. She’d been hurt–badly. Deceived so horribly, she couldn’t bring herself to trust men, any men.

Worse, after Chet, she decided there were no good men left in the world. No honorable, loving men, like her father had been. They just didn’t exist anymore. Or did they? Did she dare hope?

The unique fragrance of magnolia blossoms wafted from the air freshener plugged in next to her bed. The scent embraced her and instantly soothed the frustration she was feeling. The perfume of her father’s favorite flower always felt like an invisible hug and produced a strong sense of strength and security. Something El really needed right now. It was as if he read her thoughts and had blown across the air freshener to comfort her. A smile tugged at her lips as she visualized her father. She missed him so much some days, the grief physically squeezed her heart.

*****

Morning had come ‘much’ earlier than Stefan’s normal seven a.m. In all of his two hundred years, the thought of setting an alarm clock for four a.m. had never entered his mind. Yet, here he was, awake, and pleased about it.

The chores needed to be completed before El tried to get out of bed. Without a doubt, the ornery woman would insist on doing them herself if any were left undone. She would never be reasonable and stay in bed if given the choice. Thus, he was up before the butt crack of dawn, already trudging back from the barn with horses fed and stalls cleaned.

“Stubborn woman,” he chuckled, shaking his head. A satisfied grin blossomed just thinking about her. The image of her expression when she learned there was nothing left to do flashed in his mind. This was going to be priceless.

Removing his boots, he listened for signs of life. The house was silent. El and Marie must still be asleep. As quietly as possible, he started the Mr. Coffee® and set three cups on the counter. With the coffee brewing, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms to wait. Inhaling deeply; he was amazed how six a.m. and manual labor made fresh brewed coffee smell so much better.

Mid pour of his first cup he heard rustling of sheets and grunts of pain. The bullheaded woman was trying to get out of bed. He’d better go help her before she hurt herself worse than she already was.

A horrified gasp filled the silence of the room. Without a thought, he’d walked into her bedroom as if he belonged there. His early morning wake-up must have messed with his common sense.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

SHIT!

Averting his gaze, he cleared his throat. “Sorry, I heard you struggling and was concerned you might have hurt yourself,” he stammered on, “maybe fallen or something.”

The sheet was held to her chest in a death grip by her good hand.

“What in tarnation would have given you that impression?” Her nervous fingers from the other hand tucked a few wisps of hair behind her ear.

“Umm...I heard grunting.”

“Grunting!” One eyebrow shot up. “A lady does not grunt.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he knew he had to tread very lightly, even if he was rather enjoying this. She was just so damned cute all flustered and off balance. Regardless, at the rate he was going, he might not make it out of the bedroom with his life. Best to behave and not poke the surly bear.

“Again, I apologize.” He struggled to look contrite and not laugh. “That was a poor choice of words.”

El eyed him and snorted a very unladylike sound.

He bit his lip and remained silent. There was no way in hell he was making another comment. Instead he changed the subject like any intelligent man would.

“I have coffee on. Would you like a cup?”

He watched as El visibly relaxed. Instant attitude adjustment. Who knew coffee was magic?

“Yes.” El plucked at the sheet. “Thank you, I appreciate the offer.”

Whistling softly, Stefan poured them each a cup. He preferred straight up black, but for his lady he added the perfect blend of cream and sugar. Like most things, she liked it sweet.

He leaned against her far wall enjoying the morning ritual of coffee with his mate. If only he was under the sheet, too. Oh well, one step at a time. Allowing him in her bedroom was a huge concession for her.

Fueled by caffeine, El set her empty cup aside and made a second attempt to get up. Unfortunately, she made the very painful mistake of putting too much pressure on her broken left arm and cried out.

Stefan was instantly at her side.

Startled, she stared at him.

How the heck did he move so fast?

“Let me help you,” he offered, ignoring her reaction. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t explain shifter speed to her, not yet.

Marie walked in just as Stefan was reaching for El. Her gasp from the doorway caused Stefan to hesitate and step back. That was when Marie received the full effect of El’s injuries.

“Oh, cher! Are you in a lot of pain? How are you feeling?” She eyed Stefan strangely, then turned back to her. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I need to use the bathroom and put some clothes on. Just,” she struggled to prop herself up again, “give me a minute.”

El had the master bedroom with a private bath. Instantly, she had a newfound appreciation for that convenience. She just needed to make it the twelve feet across the room.

Mémé frowned as she studied the situation. “I don’t know if I have the strength to hold you up and get you across the room, but I’ll try.”

“No problem, ma’am, I’ll help her.”

Two heads snapped his direction.

“You’re not helping me in the bathroom!” El sputtered.

Marie chuckled at her granddaughter’s predicament. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“How about I help you as far as the door and your
grand-mère can take it from there?”

Mémé nodded in agreement. “I could manage that much.”

El remained silent. He could tell she was searching for options. His wolf panted excitedly; he knew there were none and in a minute they would be holding all of her lovely curves.

“It looks like I have no choice,” she groused. Then she glared at Stefan. “You’ll keep your wondering hands to yourself, mister.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m simply offering to assist you. I hadn’t considered seducing you. Yet.”

She let out a tired breath. “You’re not amusing.”

“Sure I am. Trust me, one day you’ll appreciate my attentions.”

Ignoring his comment, she worked the sheet out from under her and flipped it aside, then waited.

Stefan was frozen in place. Every bit of her legs were covered in deep purple bruising. Not a square inch left unmarred. Where the heck was he going to put his hands to lift her from the bed?

“Well? You going to help me up or just ogle my legs?”

Clearing his throat, he focused on the task at hand. He stepped forward and then back again.

“What the heck are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out how to touch you without hurting you.”

His admission and obvious concern melted the edges of the ice around her heart.

“Perhaps you can put your hands under her armpits,” Marie suggested, holding her hands out and mimicking an adult lifting a child. “And kind of–lift her up?”

El nodded. “I think you’re right,
Mémé
, that’s probably the least painful option.” She looked back to Stefan. “If you get me on my feet, I can lean on you to hobble to the bathroom.”

It sounded easier than it actually was. She clenched her teeth to hide the level of pain she was in. It couldn’t be helped and would pass in time. That and really good painkillers, which she would be taking the moment she had food in her stomach.

A few minutes later,
Mémé helped her hobble back into the room.

Stefan quickly took El’s weight from Marie’s shoulder. He didn’t want her injured as well.

“Would you like me to help you back to bed or the couch?

She hesitated a minute to consider her options and allow the throbbing pain to ease a bit.

“There’s no way I can get dressed until I take some meds. Help me to the couch, please. I’ll eat something and take a pill, then I’ll tackle the rest of the day.

It took a few minutes, but she was settled on the couch with a fresh cup waiting for the delicious breakfast she smelled Marie making.

“This is great coffee, Stefan. Thank you.” She took another sip. “Once the meds kick in I’ll take care of the horses.”

Filled with pride Stefan said, “No need. The chores are already done.”

“Wow, really?” She cocked an eyebrow in surprise, “When did you do that?”

“I came back in right before I heard you trying to get out of bed.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Stefan beamed.

There went another layer of ice.

*****

Breakfast was finished and the pain medicine was doing its job. It was time to tackle clothing. 

El chewed her lower lip. She had two choices, stay in her nightgown all day with Stefan glowering at her legs or attempt pants. Stefan already had her nerves frayed, and, since he refused to leave, it was time to struggle back to her room.

She eyeballed the furniture calculating every step. Grumbling a curse, she looked to the bayou Romeo.

“As much as I hate to ask, could you help me back to my bedroom?”

“Absolutely.” Stefan stood and stopped before her. “Anything you need, cher.”

Frowning, she searched his eyes. Why did he look so pained? She was the one beaten to a pulp.

Lifting her arms slightly so he could place his hands under her armpits again, El braced for the pain. As he lifted her with obvious care, she sucked in a deep breath and gritted her teeth. No matter how careful he or
Mémé were, there was no avoiding the pain. She must be bruised to the bone. If she ever saw that piece of shit again she would finish the job and feel no remorse.

El wasn’t normally a bloodthirsty person, but trash like that needed killing.

Her lips pressed into a firm, straight line of concentration as she hobbled down the hall. Stefan remained silent, somehow knowing she needed to focus completely on the task at hand. Gently settled on the edge of the bed, he gave her an encouraging smile.

“What can I do to help?” he asked as
Mémé joined them.

El held up one finger and took a deep, cleansing breath to clear away the residual pain.

“Grand-mère, would you please get my sweat pants and a sweatshirt?” More quietly she added, “And underwear.” The clothes sure wouldn’t make a fashion statement, but there was no way she was wearing jeans today.

Raising her gaze to Stefan, she indicated the door, “Would you wait in the hall for a minute?”

“Sure.” He nodded. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

Mémé managed to help her with her bra, panties, and sweatshirt, but she didn’t have the strength to help with the sweatpants.

Great, just great.

“Stefan?”

He opened the door cautiously.

“I could use some help, please.” Her voice was low and filled with distaste.

His quickened pulse and instant hard-on disgusted him. His mate was in terrible pain and he was acting like a buck in rut. Inwardly he snarled at his wolf and forced the beast to sit quietly.

“I can’t lift her to pull up the sweatpants,” Marie confided.

Stefan sensed her embarrassment. She wasn’t comfortable sitting before him in a sweatshirt and panties. Her sweats were pooled around her ankles, evidence they had indeed attempted them before asking for his assistance.

He made a point to maintain eye contact with El. He wouldn’t add to her shame by ogling her while she was so helpless.