Wolf With Benefits (2 page)

“Aww, you lubs me.”

Matt laughed. “Either that or I don’t want you trying to get even with me if I was the one who left you there.”

“I’m not that mean.”

He snorted, but the smile in her voice relaxed him.

At the lake, he grabbed two six packs from the backseat and tossed her a blanket. “Go make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab some wood for the fire.”

She stared across the silent forest and the even quieter lakeside. “Wow, I know it’s cold, but I kind of thought more people would be here.”

Pulling the tarp off the cut wood they stored for campfires, Matt shrugged. “Full moon isn’t for another two weeks, some of the year groups have winter training…and it’s a Wednesday.”

Technically a school night and after midnight…drinking at the lake in the middle of the week was for teenagers and reprobates. The teenagers were off to bed, so it fell to them.

“Is it really Wednesday?” Disgust curled her lip. “I feel like I’ve lost all track of time.” She used her foot to clear one of the large sunning stones. Once she’d kicked all the snow off, she spread out the blanket before moving the six packs onto the blanket. She was rubbing her hands together. Why hadn’t she brought gloves?

Joining her, he set the wood into the fire pit then shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it at her. She hugged it to herself and shoved her hands into the sleeves. The cold wouldn’t bother him nearly as much as it did her. “That’s what happens when you get your ass grounded.” Getting the fire started, he glanced at her. “Have a beer. Two of those and you won’t feel the cold.”

Easy laughter flowed out of her, and she shook her head. “I’ll still be cold. I won’t
feel
the cold—you do know that’s how people die of hypothermia?”

“Flimsy humans and your excuses.” Sitting next to her, he slid an arm around her. “Come snuggle the wolf. I’ll keep you warm.”

She elbowed him. Even expecting it, she got him good in the gut. Exhaling hard, he goosed her in return. Her yelp was reward enough. Twisting open one beer for her and a second for himself, he held the bottle for a toast.

“To old friends.” She didn’t miss a beat and they clinked their bottles together.

“Who are you calling old?”

A smirk before she said, “You, you’re the responsible one.”

The snort escaped him before he could help it. “Where do you get I’m the ‘responsible’ one?”

She uncurled one finger. “Volunteer firefighter, as needed.” A second finger. “Electrician by day.” Finally, she added a third finger. “Scout leader for the kindergarten cubs.”

Tipping the beer bottle back for a long drink, he shrugged. “Electrician was a needed field, since our two primary electricians wanted to scale back their work and I had lots of practice with cabling from interning with my dad.” His father had been instrumental in laying fiber optics across the Midwest and worked for a tech company in managing huge sections of the backbone across the U.S. “We can’t all be rebels desperate for a cause.”

“Ouch.”

Maybe it came out harsher than he’d intended, but still… “Hey you take off after graduation, don’t say a word and spend months ‘vanishing’ wolves.” The hunt for those missing wolves brought his sister home, albeit briefly, and introduced her to her mate. Not all bad, he supposed. “If you haven’t noticed, having that new pack on our doorstep is not winning anyone friends.”

“Oh, I noticed.” She wiggled from beneath his arm, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Frowning, he watched her knock one free. No sooner did she set it to her lips, than he plucked it away and snapped it in half. “What the hell?” Outrage filled her eyes.

“They’re bad for you,
human
. Not to mention you had
asthma
as a kid.” He’d seen her through three asthma attacks, including one which hit her in the middle of the woods, miles from town and without her inhaler.

“You’re not my father, Matt.” She tapped out a second one, so he took it before he snatched the pack and crushed it. Scowling, she balled up her teeny-tiny fist and slugged him.

“Ow.” With a grin, he took another drink. “So, other than cancer sticks, what’s up with you?” He’d waited long enough, but curiosity ate at him. For weeks after word reached them of her involvement—her and four other humans from Willow Bend—in the formation of the sixth pack, Matt had tried to reach out to her as quietly as possible.

Picking at the crumbled remains of her cigarettes, she sighed. So much emotion punched through the lonely little exhale. Sliding his arm around her shoulders again, he tugged her close. Cold air, the stars sprawling above, snow on the ground and a crackling fire added to the illusion of solitude in the night. Only she wasn’t alone and, since she’d returned home, she wouldn’t be alone anymore. Matt would watch her back.

“I’m on probation, which is as ugly as it sounds. My parents seem to have forgotten I’m an adult, and they’re grounding me. Apparently I forgot I’m an adult, too, because I had to have you sneak me out. Not sure when or if I’ll be able to get a job in town…
no one
except you is really speaking to me.” She rubbed the side of her nose, an old trick to stymy her tears. “I really don’t want to clean houses or do general maintenance work.”

The Sullivan family cleaned several houses in Willow Bend, their handyman service proved valuable to the pack from the former Alpha’s residence to the more modest homes. The pack took care of their own and if they ever felt the Sullivans needed more help, another family found a reason to hire them. Spring cleaning, holiday sprucing, or general work like deep cleaning kitchens and bathrooms—anything to keep the family going if word slipped out among the pack that they needed money.

Hell, Shiloh and her siblings attended college on the money her parents put away from work generated by the pack. Though, he like every other wolf, never discussed those facts with the Sullivans. They had as much pride as any wolf, but their determination to remain human in the wolf pack included avoiding the most obvious connections—like the fact they
were
pack as far as the rest were concerned.

“You’ll get a job,” he assured her. Someone in the pack would find work for her. “You have a fancy degree.”

“For social work.” She drained her beer and he opened a second one for her without waiting for her to ask. They traded bottles, and she sighed. “I’m qualified to work with troubled kids, troubled families…” With a sigh, she took another long pull. Her scent teased him, fresh air with a touch of tangy citrus blended with sea spray and a hint of lily. Her scent reminded him of a world traveler, every time she went away to school and came home, she added another nuance to it.

Being around Shiloh reminded him of standing on the shore of the big lake with the wind ruffling his hair. Her scent carried freedom with the promise of more. Giving her a squeeze, he said. “So you can work with the kids at the school or around the pack. We have our own issues you know.”

“Oh yeah, I do know. But we don’t have domestic violence or kids cutting school or...homeless issues. Crisis intervention and community organization from a human for wolves? Not really something I see happening.”

Giving into his curiosity, he finished his beer before asking, “Is that why you did it?”

“Did what?”

“Abandoned all of us to help form an illegal sixth pack?” The question came out a blunt, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around Shiloh’s rebellious activities.

“I don’t see it as illegal.”

“How can you not see it as illegal? You’re Willow Bend. You fostered the violation of laws by Lone Wolves and helped cover…” Shock went through him. “Bleaching the houses. That was you.” Why the hell hadn’t he seen it? The details remained sketchy and on a need to know basis, but Margo mentioned it after their last dinner with her mate before she went to Italy. The Sullivans knew how to clean houses for wolves, how to eliminate unwanted scents and more. Shiloh grew up with them and her family specialized in house and handy work.

Holy shit. Does Mason know?
Choking on his beer, Matt didn’t want to know. It meant Shiloh had done more than support the effort to unite the Lone Wolves on their journeys around the country—she’d also helped them accomplish it.

“Do you know what social work means, Matt?” The rich hazel of her eyes shimmered even under the sliver of light offered by the waxing crescent moon. “It means we work to better those suffering from social disadvantages—poverty, mental illness, physical disability, sickness, and social injustice. Do you know what constitutes social injustice in a pack? Or in all of the packs?”

Dropping his chin to his chest, he sucked in a breath. “Shi, stop talking.”

“Because whatever I tell you, you may have to tell Mason?”

“Exactly.” He wouldn’t betray his best friend, not for anything in the world. Yet, if his Alpha asked…

“He knows.” Her admission shocked him. Jerking his gaze to her face, he searched her eyes and expression. “What? You think I spent three weeks with the Hunters being interrogated on every step of every action I took and I held back my contribution to cleansing the scenes of every Lone Wolf’s house? I knew if they couldn’t pick up scents, we’d hold the Enforcers off. I knew what Enforcers did, Matt…what Margo did.” Another shrug. “I did what I felt was the
right
thing to do. Lone Wolves need more than what they have been allowed. If that makes me a pariah, so be it.”

“So why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to help those wolves. I’ve met a few, you know, over the years and while I was at college. Mason was a Lone Wolf and he came home and Willow Bend is a
better
place for him being here. I think the other packs will be better for Three Rivers existing…and so will the Lone Wolves.” Passion filled her voice, then her grin turned wry. “Or maybe I’m an emotional cripple and not fit to make those kind of decisions. Either way, it’s done. I’m on probation, my family hates me and the rest of the pack doesn’t really want me here, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

“You’re not an emotional cripple…my mom, now she’s an emotional cripple. She hates the fact Margo moved to another continent. Resents that she mated outside the pack, and she can’t seem to get past it. She’s pissed at Dad, pissed at us and that’s on good days.”

“On bad days?”

Matt drained his second beer and accepted Shiloh’s empty. Only after he opened two more bottles and they tapped the necks together did he say, “She spends her evenings moping, looking at family pictures and sighing.” The sighing was the worst. A breath of sound filled with sad wistfulness. They all wanted to make Mom smile and none of them seemed to know how to make it work. She wanted Margo home in Willow Bend, not in Seven Hills, Italy.

“Sorry, Matty.” Shiloh squeezed his arm. “I always thought mating was the best thing that could happen to a wolf. It always seemed like something everyone celebrated.”

“It is and Margo’s happy…happier than I’ve ever seen her. Her mate’s a cool enough guy, kind of scary if you look too close or try to piss him off for fun, but he adores her. It’s a great thing for Margo. Mom misses her though, and they were always—butting heads.” They’d shipped Margo off to boarding school when Matt was five. As far as he was concerned, his sister had always been gone.

“Maybe they can visit. Maybe she and Margo can reconnect in Italy.”

“Sure, they have an invitation, but when you mention it to Mom, she sighs…” And her grief seemed to surge to the surface all over again.

“Wow, it’s kind of my fault then.” She bit her lip.

Gaze sharpening on Shiloh, Matt quirked his eyebrows. “How do you figure?”

“I helped them to make the sixth pack, which helped Luciana and Rayne, and kept them from Salvatore and Margo. They spent a lot of time chasing us. Maybe if they hadn’t, Margo would still be here.”

Damn, she really was neck deep in it. Matt shook his head. “If she were still stateside, she’d still be an Enforcer and not here Willow Bend. You didn’t break anything.” If anything, his mother would continue to mope until one of her sons took a mate and gave her a daughter to… “Huh.”

“What?” Shi went still, suspicion in her eyes. As well as he knew her, she knew him. “That look on your face never bodes well.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I know how to fix things for my mom and get the pack to forgive you at the same time.” Laughter wound through him. He took another long swallow. No way would Shi buy into it, so he’d probably have to pester her into submission, but it would work.

“Care to share?” Irritation punched each syllable of her question.

“You’re going to be my mate-to-be…”

She choked and spewed beer out onto the snow. He patted her back, still grinning. The idea was perfect. She could stick it to her parents and help him fix his.

M
iracles did happen
. She’d been granted leave to visit the grocery store at seven-thirty, sharp. Her parents had several jobs for the day and would be out. Her brothers already left and Amelia, her sister, gave her the finger on her way out the door. Yes, Shiloh felt the love. Or at least her hangover did. Matt returned her to her room at five-thirty. She’d managed an hour’s nap before her mother roused her at six-thirty with orders to shower and make herself presentable.

Military schools could learn from her parents. Rather than argue, she and her hangover ducked into a five-minute shower—cold since she was the last one up—followed by brushing her teeth. The next time she tried to keep up with Matt on the beers, she had to remember…wolf metabolism trumped human every time. At least she hadn’t thrown up on him. At least she didn’t think she had.

After braiding her hair, she made it downstairs dressed in clean clothes to receive her mother’s marching orders.

“Go to the market, pick up these items, then go to the dry cleaners and pick up your brothers’ suits. They have a wedding to attend. When you get back, break up the meat into individual packages, put up the groceries, then wipe down the kitchen and store all the recyclables. Should you be finished by twelve, I have more for you to do on the rear of the list. If you run out of things to do, which is unlikely, call me. I have a few more.” She bussed the air somewhere in the vicinity of Shiloh’s cheek then left.

No
good morning
. No ‘love yous,’ just the presumption she was an idiot. The list included three dozen items. A number of specific cuts from the butcher, particular breads from the bakery and fresh vegetables.
Good God, she even put down how I should check the vegetables.

Annoyed, she slapped the list on the counter and went for coffee. None waited in the pot. In fact, it had all been wiped spotless, despite the scent of coffee hanging in the air. “Baa baa black sheep, have you any Sullivans? Oh wait, that’s me.” Rubbing her palm against her face, she contemplated whether to make coffee or stop somewhere on the way to the grocery store.

Considering the less than stellar reception she’d received from the other wolves, making her own coffee sounded safer for everyone involved. The last thing she wanted was to find someone spit in her coffee. Wolves were a lot of things, but passionate was the most prevalent. When they loved, they gave their all, and when they hated…
Definitely making coffee here.

Three cups later, she scrubbed away any trace of her morning meal—coffee and toast—and left the coffee maker set back up for her parents. List in one hand, car keys in the other, she let herself out of the house. Fortunately, winter kept a tight grip on the town, so no busybodies doing yard work or kids playing paused to stare at her. It was barely eight in the morning, but she’d drunk enough caffeine to tackle her mother’s monster list. After all, shopping wasn’t the most challenging task ever thrown her way.

Once upon a time, she and her sister Amelia split the chore between them. Delia Sullivan believed in teaching her daughters self-reliance and independence—whether it involved balancing a checkbook, stretching a budget, shopping for specific brands, or cleaning house. Amelia thrived on every moment, while Shiloh tolerated them because…well, she was a Sullivan. It was what Sullivans did. Living in a town populated by wolves offered a lot of advantages. Privacy, however, was not among them.

From the moment she found a parking spot outside of Sexton’s, she experienced the weight of disapproval and observation. Small towns, God love them, ensured everyone knew everyone else’s business, particularly when attached to a scandal. The dull thud of a headache accompanied her down every aisle. How many beers had she drunk the night before? Matt probably woke up all bouncy and tail wagging.
Jerkface.
She grinned while studying the cereals. Her mother listed three specific kinds, no variances allowed.

A squeak of a scuffing shoe against the linoleum from the end of the aisle caught her attention. Kirk Carver froze like a deer in headlights when she looked up. Like her, he’d been part of the conspiracy to help Rayne and Luciana Barrows form a sixth pack. Everyone considered Kirk their ringleader. Brilliant and cunning, he didn’t possess charisma. They’d made a pact, the five of them. When they decided to pursue a better option for Lone Wolves, when they’d elected to follow Luciana, and when they’d become active participants in
vanishing
Lone Wolves—they were all the ringleader. It was all their idea, so they’d become a unit.

All for one, and all that.

Kirk gave her a small smile. Behind him, Tiffany Huston paused. So, Kirk had gotten Ryan to give him his job back.
Good for him.
The pack attorney and his mate were among the pack elite. Nodding to the wolf behind him, Shiloh smiled. Mrs. Huston murmured something, and Kirk moved on. One of the terms laid out by Mason upon their return to the
pack
included limited, monitored-only contact until they’d earned trust once more. Tiffany gave her another smile as she strode down the aisle toward her.

Elegance flowed along within her movements. “Hello, Shiloh.” Kindness echoed beneath her words.

“Good morning, Mrs. Huston.” She’d called her Tiffany once upon a time, back when she and Alexis were still friends. When she spent as much time in the Huston household as she had in her own. Alexis and Amelia had been closer in age, but Shiloh and she had been closer in temperament, though the wolf Nyssa was Lexi’s best friend.

Delicate features softened into a smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t allow you and Kirk to chat. I’m sure you’ve been worried about him.” Though a wolf, Mrs. Huston was a turned wolf. Her first few years in Willow Bend had been spent as a human. Like so many humans who mated wolves, she accepted the bite and transformed. Shiloh remembered the day clearly—her mother wouldn’t let her go to the Hustons for several weeks afterward. Her daughters, she’d stated bluntly, didn’t need to get any funny ideas.

“I have, but I also know the pack will take care of him.” Wasn’t that what pack was for?

“We will, and we’ll look after you as well.” Tiffany glanced at her grocery cart. “I take it your mother sent you shopping?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m not supposed to be outside the house without a specific task.” Humiliating as the admission was, she owned her punishment. Believing in her actions, taking responsibility for them and accepting her consequences were all one and in the same in her opinion.

“Only for a few months.” The offer of support and comfort in equal measures buoyed her hangover depression. “How much more shopping do you have?”

Shiloh checked her list. She’d avoided the butcher and baker so far, where she might find Mrs. Sexton at either counter. “A few more things.”

“I’ll shop with you.” The offer surprised her.

“Aren’t you looking after Kirk?” Or had she misread the situation? Maybe Ryan hadn’t forgiven Kirk.

“He’ll be fine.” They fell into step. The answer was hardly an explanation. “How are things going for you?”

“Tense, but I expected it. It may take a while for everyone to forgive me—if they forgive me.” Rueful, she rubbed the side of her nose and laughed rather than cry. Tears didn’t help anyone. “My parents will take a lot longer. Mason’s more forgiving than they are.”

Mason had been intense during their two meetings. Knowing he could read her scent hadn’t made her more truthful. After Patrick’s clusterfuck of a challenge to the Delta Crescent Alpha, she refused to continue supporting Three Rivers. The goal had been to give Lone Wolves a better life, a better option. Not open a can of worms to destroy others.

“Delia’s stubborn, but she loves you,” Tiffany said, rubbing her shoulder. “You scared her, Shiloh.”

“I know.” She’d also embarrassed her, but she didn’t want to bring the issue up. It would be impolite as well as infuriate her mother further. Once upon a time, she and Tiffany had been good friends. Did she know why Delia withdrew from the friendship? Oh, she would never have been rude to her personally. The Sullivans served the wolves and they certainly knew their place.

“You know, but you’re an adult who resents her mother’s interference and demands to live up to her standards.” Raw honesty populated the sentiment. Difficult to argue such bald facts.

“Not really a good way to respond to that, Mrs. Huston,” she admitted, continuing to the next aisle. “I’m sorry.”

“Mothers and daughters have differences, sweetheart.” They were on the pop and drinks aisle. Shiloh stowed three cases of water along the underside of her shopping cart. “It’s what mothers and daughters do. They argue, disagree and both wish the other fit the model they have in their head.”

Okay, so was Tiffany on her side or her mother’s? When she had everything except the meat and the baked goods, she headed for the butcher.

A cart slammed into hers and the jolt rode all the way along her arms. “Sorry,” she said automatically, but the wolf directing the opposite cart didn’t return the courtesy.

Flinty eyes and a cold expression challenged her right to breathe in the same space with the wolf. “You should be sorry.”

“Good morning to you, Frannie.” Francine Williams’ family joined Willow Bend at the same time as the Sullivans. The majority remained human, though some—like Frannie—chose to become wolves when they reached adulthood with the Alpha’s blessing. Pack law allowed the grace to their human packmates, whether they found a wolf mate or not.

Ignoring her utterly, Frannie inclined her head toward Tiffany. “Mrs. Huston, it’s lovely to see you. My mother wanted me to extend an invitation to you and Alexis for tea later this week.”

Oh. Cue the sucking up.
Not rolling her eyes, Shiloh started to back her cart away, but Tiffany closed the distance between them, effectively trapping her between the two wolves.
Crap.

“Thank your mother for her invitation, but I’m afraid we already have plans with Shiloh this week.”
Pure polite smackdown.

Controlling her expression took every ounce of Shiloh’s will. She bit down on the inside of her lip until the pain drowned out the need to snicker. Frannie’s frosty attitude dropped to subzero. “I see.”

“Somehow,” Tiffany smiled. “I doubt you do. Excuse us, you’re blocking the path.” Without letting Shiloh withdraw, Tiffany continued to smile at the other wolf. For a moment, Frannie didn’t appear willing to let the matter go. More uncomfortable than she’d been in a while, Shiloh considered whether trying to back away would be the lesser of two evils. Neither wolf moved, but Frannie wasn’t looking at Tiffany any longer, in fact, she gripped the cart so tightly her knuckles went white. “Any day now, dear. I’m sure you have things to do, and I know we do.”

With a hateful glance toward Shiloh, Frannie backed her cart away. “Of course.” She ground the words out as though they were actually painful to speak. “So sorry to hold you up.”

“No worries,” Tiffany said, her patient politeness never wavering. With a gentle nudge, she encouraged Shiloh onward. Perfectly content to end the standoff, Shiloh didn’t disguise her hurry to rush away. She cut her cart around Frannie’s and headed for the butcher. The sooner she finished her mother’s shopping list, the better. Maybe she should have stayed home, not that her Mom gave her a choice.

Tiffany fell into step with her. “Don’t race, Shiloh.” The low admonishment slowed her immediately. “Never let their rejection make you run. It makes you look too much like prey. No matter what
anyone
says to you, you are home because Mason wanted you here. You are a part of our pack. He makes that decision…” Lifting her head, Tiffany swept a look around them. “No one else.”

Daring to raise her chin, Shiloh caught the other wolves watching them. Under the older woman’s calm reproach, their audience found other things to do. Not all of them—a couple of older wolves simply inclined their heads toward Tiffany before continuing along their shopping.

Arriving at the butcher counter, she waited her turn. Tiffany withdrew her phone and checked her messages.

“Not that I mind the company, Mrs. Huston.” She tested the waters with the older wolf. “But are you babysitting me?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t like bullies.” She tapped on the screen. “I did mean it when I mentioned tea later this week. Alexis and I get together regularly on Thursdays for lunch, shopping, and a late afternoon tea. She’ll have Melissa with her, and I know she would love to see you.”

Touched, Shiloh edged forward as Mrs. Tomkins picked up her wrapped meat to take her place at the counter. “I would love to, Mrs. Huston. Do you mind if I confirm after I make sure my mother doesn’t have plans for me?” The last thing she needed was to ignite World War III in the house.

“Not at all. You still have our numbers, don’t you?”

She did, in her old phone. “I—”

“What do you need?” Ron White, the butcher ignored Shiloh in favor of Mrs. Huston.

“For you to take care of Shiloh’s order.” Tiffany folded her arms. Apparently, whether Shiloh liked it or not, Mrs. Huston appointed herself bodyguard.

“Go on, Ron.” Mrs. Sexton hustled behind the counter and waved him off. “I’ll take care of this, and you can go check the truck arriving.” The other wolf looked like he would argue, but after a quelling look from the matron, he shut it and stalked away. Mrs. Sexton returned her attention to Shiloh as she tied on an apron. “What can I get for you, Shiloh?”

Okay.
From chilly reception to brisk, business-like tone. Weird didn’t begin to describe the way everyone acted. Apron on, Mrs. Sexton drew on her gloves one at a time while wearing an expectant expression.

“This year Shiloh, we have a line forming.” Nothing unkind lived in her tone. Of course, it wasn’t all that warm either.

Blowing out a breath, Shiloh read off her mother’s list. In no time, she placed several wrapped pieces of meat in her cart. No sooner was Mrs. Sexton done with her, then she moved on to Tiffany’s order. Mrs. Huston touched Shiloh’s arm when she would have walked off, so she waited for the order to complete. When they finally moved on, Tiffany gave her an encouraging nod. “Last stop, the bakery.”