“You told Miss July you intended to take her to bed?”
“Yes. Wait. What?” He stopped his pacing and turned to growl at the highly amused man wearing the t-shirt with the words “howl you doin’” printed under an image of that actor from Friends sporting wolf ears. Puns aside, the Wolf was half a breath away from getting his head taken off.
“Stephanie DeMarco has been the reigning Miss July in our annual Macconwood Charity Calendar for years. This is next year’s edition. It always comes out right before Christmas, so folks can get their orders in,” the idiot replied, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning.
Grrr.
Easy.
Nicholas worked hard to rein in his wolf. The beast had been losing his shit ever since he had a taste of the she-Wolf the other day. Kissing her had been a slice of heaven he was dying to try again. But she’d been avoiding him like he had fleas, for fuck’s sake.
Sad growl.
Sexual frustration aside, Nick had some legal stuff for the firm to handle regarding his bank accounts, living will, and a trust for his daughter. He also needed some friendly advice. But first things first.
“What fucking calendar?”
Kurt Lowell, who despite the red hair, was nothing like his twin brother Dib, pointed to the wall calendar hanging up behind his desk in his office. As one of two brother Wolves who ran the top law firm in South Jersey, Kurt was surprisingly laid back. A real joker, though Nick was sure there was more to him behind the wicked sense of humor.
But he could think about his budding friendship later. It was his future mate he was concerned with. He strode across the room and grabbed the calendar from the wall, flipping back to July.
“Holy fuck,” he growled.
The annual Macconwood Charity Calendar featured business owners from town. The men and women were all Pack members, though normals assumed they were merely citizens from town. The images were of them at their places of work. The only thing was, they were butt ass naked.
“Great pic, isn’t it?” Kurt asked from right behind Nick.
The image of Stephanie was of her at the farm in early spring. The evergreens showed signs of tender, bright green needles, and there was grass on the ground. Stephanie had a thick hose in one hand, managing to cover her nipples, though the swells of her high breasts were still visible, and a bag of plant food in the other, strategically positioned to cover her nether region.
Yeah, it was a great pic. The only problem was the fact every male in the area had been leering at it for months. Kurt whistled appreciatively, and that was the last straw.
Nick didn’t think. He just reacted.
Mine.
“Serves you right,” Dib shook his head as he tossed a bag of frozen peas at his brother fifteen minutes later.
“What? What did I do?”
“I apologize really,” Nick said.
He’d resumed his pacing. Uncertainty rearing its ugly head once more. Shit. It was getting late. He had to pick up Clara and head over to the farm to do his stint as Santa. He’d promised his daughter they could pick out a tree of their own tonight, so he was bringing her along as his little elf helper.
“No need. My brother’s an idiot,” Dib replied.
“I resent that!”
“Shut up,” the straightlaced Lowell told his sibling, then he turned towards the door and his whole demeanor changed, softened somehow.
“Not sure if you met my mate, Aleeza,” he smiled at the small brunette who walked in.
The female stepped into her mate’s embrace before greeting the other two males in the room. She laughed when she saw the purple bruise marring her brother-in-law’s face.
“Nice! Go on, encourage him,” Kurt said, tossing some frozen peas across the room.
“I apologized,” Nick muttered.
“Whatever he did, I am sure Kurt deserved it,” the she-Wolf replied with a twinkle in her eyes.
“He was making eyes at Stephanie DeMarco’s calendar pic in front of her mate,” Dib filled her in.
“You’re Stephanie’s mate?”
“Hopeful mate,” he corrected, and he felt his face burn.
“You either are, or you aren’t,” she replied.
“Well, the thing is, my Wolf is positive. I am too. But she hasn’t exactly said anything,” he tugged on his collar.
“You idiot,” Aleeza scoffed. “We can’t read minds. Tell her how you feel for Pete’s sake, or you’ll waste years like this one did.”
She pointed at her mate, and the Wolf frowned heavily.
“Hey, I made up for it,” Dib growled and nuzzled her ear.
“Yeah. Finally,” she rolled her eyes, then grabbed him and tugged him down for a kiss.
“Ugh. Please spare the only bachelor here from this horrible display!” Kurt wailed.
“You’re all nuts,” Nick said and waved as he walked away.
“Just tell her how you feel!” Aleeza called after him.
The tiny she-Wolf had a point. He just had to find the right opportunity.
It only took forty-five minutes to pick up Clara, grab some drive-thru, and head over to Manning Farms. His daughter chatted happily in the front seat, munching on her fries and burger, and he tried to listen. Really, he did. But his mind kept wandering back to a certain photograph of the blonde bombshell who’d been haunting his every waking, and sleeping, moment since he’d moved to Maccon City.
The fact the calendar was shot for charity and way before he even knew Stephanie DeMarco did not stop a vicious stab of jealousy, or maybe it was anxiety, that shot through him at the very thought of the number of males who’d ogled his future mate’s assets since it’s imprint.
“So, yes, I can go to the sleepover? Dad? Dad!!!” Clara’s voice finally penetrated the angry fog that had clouded his brain, but he couldn’t for the life of him recall what sleepover she was talking about.
“The sleepover at the Pack house for all the new pups, Dad. Remember? Charley gave you that packet the other day?”
“Mrs. Maccon,” he corrected.
“She said to call her Charley,” Clara said, eyes narrowing.
His little pup was always respectful, but she was also always right. Had a memory like an elephant, and he couldn’t help but smile at her.
“Did she now? Well then, I guess you could call the Alpha’s mate Charley if she said you could.”
“She did.”
“Fine. Now, when is this sleepover? Refresh an old man’s memory, if you please, Clarabel,” he said using the nickname he’d given her when she was just a tot.
“Daddy!” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s on Saturday. The night before Christmas Eve.”
“I see. Well, if you are sure you want to go?”
“I do! I do! Daddy, please?”
“Alright, you can go.”
The responding shriek nearly deafened him, but as the father of a little girl, he was used to it. Sort of. The drive to the farm was not all that long, but it sure was different from the city in wintertime. The woods were coated in a dusting of white from the snow that had fallen just that morning.
“It looks like frosting,” Clara mused, pointing at the tall pines with their white-covered needles, and the bare oaks, walnuts, and beeches whose branches glistened with icicles.
“It sure does, Clarabel. Pretty as a picture.”
“I like it here, Daddy. I don’t miss the city at all.”
“I’m glad, pup.” He winked at his daughter and ruffled her baby soft hair.
His daughter had the same red hair he sported in his youth, along with the mandatory fair skin and freckles. She had light blue eyes, just like his, that always seemed to sparkle with good humor. His daughter was the light of his life, though there were times he felt terrible that her mother had opted to not remain in her life.
He’d lost track of her years ago and stopped caring the second the week-old baby was placed in his arms along with a legal document giving him sole legal and physical custody of the child. After that, she’d become his world.
“Oooh! Daddy, there’s a barn store and everything!” She squealed excitedly.
Nick smiled and directed his daughter to pack up the remnants of their on the run dinner before exiting the vehicle. She tugged on the sparkly pink elf hat he’d bought her just for the occasion and waited impatiently for him to gather his bag with the Santa Suit in the back.
Stephanie had ordered the suit with care, and Nick made damn sure to treat it kindly. He took it home every night, had it cleaned and pressed at the specialty organic dry cleaners near their apartment, and brought it back with him every day. Thank goodness it was a twenty-four-hour place.
“Who’s that, Daddy?”
Nicholas lifted the Santa suit by the hanger and turned to see Stephanie standing just inside the employee break room next to the store. Their eyes met, and he felt it all the way to his marrow.
“That’s Stephanie, Clarabel.”
“You like her! Don’t you, Daddy?” His bright-eyed pup looked back and forth between them.
“Of course I do,” he replied coolly. “She’s my boss, and she’s Pack.”
“No, I mean you like like her,” she replied, wagging her little eyebrows up and down at him.
“Now sprout, you behave. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Careful to avoid the ice, Nick followed Clara up the cleared walkway to the break room. Stephanie raised her eyebrows and smiled in greeting at his daughter, and fuck, if that didn’t warm him down to his toes. Carols were playing softly in the background and the chatter of families shopping for trees was lost somewhere among his increased breathing and the pounding of his heart.
She wasn’t wearing anything fancy. Just her usual jeans and a soft looking ivory sweater with dark green rubber boots to protect her feet from the snow and water. He knew she worked in the greenhouses a lot, caring for and growing indoor plants. Right now, that meant pots of Christmas cacti, amaryllis, poinsettias, and tiny red and white roses.
Nicholas sort of made it a hobby to keep track of the woman whenever he was at the farm. He couldn’t help it. He simply found her fascinating. Even now, as she crouched down to speak to Clara, he saw her eyes light up with affection and warmth towards his child and his heart damn near exploded.
“You must be the Miss Clara I have heard so much about. My daughter Cassie volunteers at the after school club teaching choir,” she said to Clara in a friendly voice.
“You mean Mrs. Evangelos? I love her! She is so funny! And baby Marco is the best,” Clara enthused.
“I’m fond of him myself,” Stephanie grinned. “Would you like to help me?”
“Well sure, but I have to help my dad, too. I’m his elf today,” Clara replied and turned to look at Nick.
“That’s alright. You can help her first if you like,” he told her and raised inquisitive eyes to Stephanie.
“That would be great, you see, I need someone who is an expert on how chocolate chip cookies should taste to tell me if this recipe is right,” Stephanie explained.
“Those are my favorite kind!”
“Alright you two, I am going to get changed and I will be over by the photo stand. When you’re ready, come find me,” he told his daughter.
Then to Stephanie, he nodded, trying his best to show her the depth of his feeling in one look. Impossible, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
Mine.
His big red Wolf growled softly and butted against his skin. The beast thrilled that pup and mate were getting along. He wanted to get closer, but he knew he couldn’t. Not now.
“We’ll be just fine,” she replied.
Nick watched with his heart in his eyes as Clara took Stephanie’s hand and bounded off to the kitchen gibbering about cookies and different kinds of chocolate. He changed into the Santa Suit and adopted the persona of the jolly old elf while taking pictures with various children and Pack families.
There were more Shifters about than he’d ever seen in the city, and he had to wonder if what folks said about the little South Jersey town was true. Maccon City was a hotbed of supernatural activity. His instincts had been pretty well honed in combat, but from what he could tell, coexistence and peace seemed to be all anybody there wanted.
Hell. Made sense to him. If only more people felt that way, maybe the world wouldn’t be such a mess, he thought grimly.
“There you are!”
Nick cringed at the high-pitched greeting. Oh no. This particular she-Wolf was making a spectacle of herself, but it was his job to be Santa, so he just smiled and waved at the young pup. He was one of several she’d brought with her every couple of days since he started there.
“Hello Ms. Rothschild,” he said, then turned to the little boy hiding behind her skinny jean-clad legs.
“Who is this little guy? Do you know what you would like for Christmas yet, son?”
The little boy shook his head and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He couldn’t be more than four years old. From what he knew, Madison Rothschild was a nurse, single, and had no children. And yet, she showed up with one every few days.
At first, he’d thought perhaps she was some sort of social worker. Then he’d learned she was a former nurse but chose to quit her job after a failed romance with a local doctor. Now, he was inclined to believe she came around just to try to entice him to ask her out.
As if he would. Even if Nicholas hadn’t already found and identified his fated mate, he would not be interested in the woman.
She was simply not his type. From her bleached head to her over made face, the woman reeked of insecurity and entitlement. Today’s ensemble was a combination of jeans so tight he wondered how she could breathe, and a teeny, tiny, cropped tank top that was more bra than shirt, not to mention entirely inappropriate in the barely thirty-degree temperatures.
“Oh, this is Daniel. He’s the son of a friend. They went to pick a tree, but Daniel here wanted to meet Santa, so I volunteered.”
“Alright, well, Daniel, why don’t you come sit on the bench by me and we can take a picture,” he said and smiled kindly at the young boy.
“Oh, you know he’s so shy, but I bet if I sit on your lap,” the woman said, and practically jumped on him.
Nicholas was shocked. Hell. He didn’t know what to do. She was balancing on his knee, and he couldn’t very well push her, but he was close.
“Now, if he will let me hold him—”
But Daniel was backing away from her grabby hands, and Nicholas was trying to explain that she was not allowed to sit on him. Like ever. But before the words got out, he heard a small snort followed by a short growl.
His head turned to see Stephanie and Clara holding a plate of cookies wrapped in individual cellophane baggies and tied with red and green ribbon with a little candy cane on the end.
Clara bent and offered one to the little boy, while Stephanie gave Madison a look that could have curdled cream. His Wolf pushed forward, but Nicholas stayed very still.
If she was jealous, that meant she was interested. Still, he had no wish for her to feel anything but happy around him. It was confusing, to say the least.
“Aren’t you a little big for Santa’s lap?” Stephanie said.
“Aren’t you a little old?” Madison retorted, standing up, thank fuck, a nasty smile on her lips.
“What did you say to me?”
“You heard me. Unless this is some Mrs. Robinson thing you got going on. I guess everyone has their kink,” she said meanly.
“Watch your mouth,” Nick growled in a low voice.
“Easy there, Santa. I got this,” Stephanie said, eyes flicking towards the kids lining up to see him. She stepped closer to Madison who suddenly didn’t look as bitchy as she looked terrified. Good. Served her right for stepping over the line.
“Why don’t you come back later,” Stephanie replied, moving forward until her lips were close to the other woman’s ear. “And I’ll show you what I learned about dealing with bitches like you in my long, long time on this earth.”
Stephanie’s fierce whisper was laced with her own natural dominance. Nicholas stood up worried about the children, but she knew what she was doing. Her words were for Madison’s and his ears only.
The other she-Wolf averted her gaze, smartly. Her animal recognized where she did not that Stephanie was the stronger of the two. The rolling growl in her throat cut off as the boys’ parents approached with wide smiles and a tree in tow.
“There you are, Daniel,” his mother said.
“Hello, Samantha, Wayne, how are you both?” Stephanie turned with a professional smile on her face as she addressed the small Wolf family.
“We’re good, thank you. And we are both so glad you’ve reopened the farm,” the woman gushed, shaking Stephanie’s hand.
“I am happy you all like it.”
They chatted a bit longer, ignoring both Nicholas and Madison. Then she turned and helped Daniel sit down next to Santa and called the photographer over. The teenager, Chris, had showed up late, but he was a good kid. He took the photo and sent the files to the parents. Stephanie comped the fee for the family.
“Are you sure, Miss Jul-, I mean, Mrs. DeMarco?” Wayne, the husband said, red-faced and a tad starry-eyed as he spoke to her.
“Oh yes. Your Daniel is just too sweet for words,” she said, handling the man’s obvious infatuation with practiced ease.
Nicholas could hardly keep up. He thought for sure Stephanie was going to lose her cool over the nasty crap Madison had said, but she’d controlled herself admirably. In fact, he was closer to pushing the practically drooling Wayne away from her than she was to do anything as idiotic.
“Sorry, Stephanie, my husband is a big fan of the Macconwood calendar,” Samantha said, shaking her head lovingly at her mate. “He has every issue going back to 2001.”
“Oh, is that so? Well, bring them by next time and I’ll sign them for you. This year’s charity is the outreach program, and we are installing a new turf field with the proceeds.”
Stephanie smiled. Her eyes purposely avoided his. Nick wondered what she was thinking, but she gave away no hint of her inner thoughts or feelings. Even her scent remained the same. Cool, even, and undecipherable. Something he’d rarely come across in a Wolf.
As a cop he’d learned to distinguish certain smells, since so many emotions were tangible to Wolves and supes in general. But she was an enigma. His animal pushed forward, demanding he get closer, but he waited for her to finish, to turn and acknowledge him.
Unfortunately, she didn’t. Stephanie spoke to some more families, signed a few calendars, and still ignored him. And didn’t that just chafe his ass even in the soft red velvet suit.
After a while, things resumed as usual. Clara chatted to people who’d lined up to take pictures with Santa. She smiled and passed out cookies, greeting kids she knew from school. After a few minutes, Stephanie turned to leave.
“Hey all, Santa is gonna take a short break to check on his reindeer. I’ll be right back. Ho ho ho!”
It was almost too late. The little she-Wolf had taken off, leaving a path of trodden snow in her wake, but Nicholas was not putting this off. She’d been jealous and angry, and he wanted her to admit it. Fuck that. He needed her, too.
“Stephanie!” He called her name, catching sight of her blonde hair whipping around the corner of the back of the barn.
He growled as he hurried after her. But damn, was she fast. Nicholas had a big, cumbersome boot over his prosthetic to match the Santa suit, but even so, he wasn’t about to let her get away. Not this time.
Nick removed the velvet hat from his head and took off in a brisk jog. Her nutmeg sage scent preceded him to the open carport behind the barn. It was where she’d stored the antique Christmas sleigh Nick had given her.
Manning Farms would offer their first ever holiday sleigh rides Christmas week, with all tickets to be purchased in advance. A new tradition the quaint Jersey town was sure to love.
“Stephanie, please, just give me a minute—”
“For what?”
“Let me explain—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she shook her head, fidgeting with the tarp that protected the sled from the elements until its use.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, hating the way she stiffened. Fuck. Pain shot through him at the thought his fated mate was rejecting him. He’d heard of Wolves who’d died of broken hearts when their mates turned their backs on them.
Nick had a daughter. He had a reason to live. Still, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be half a man for the rest of his life without her.
“Stephanie,” he said, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his arms around her. “You know what we are to each other. I know you do. Please don’t turn your back on me.”
“It won’t work,” she whispered, and he heard tears filling her voice and felt helpless against them.
“You heard Madison. Others will think like her too. Like I’m some cradle robbing cougar,” she snorted a derisive laugh.
“I don’t give a shit what anyone says,” he growled and turned her around. “I love you, Stephanie. You are my fated mate.”
“Oh Nick,” she moaned, her eyes dropped to half mast, and she crushed her mouth to his.
Mine.