Like a Wolf with a Bone Read online

  “What’s wrong?” she demanded. She wanted to go back to bed.

  “Why am I going in there?”

  “So you can get some sleep.”

  “But where will you sleep?”

  Darla released Eggie so she could put her hands on her hips. “Tell me you are kidding.”

  Of course he wasn’t kidding. He couldn’t . . . sleep with her.

  Because when she said “sleep” what she really meant was “sex,” right? Because that’s what he meant when he said he was sleeping with a woman. That they were fucking.

  “We’re both adults, Eggie,” she reasoned.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Lord help me,” she muttered. “Can we just get some sleep, please?”

  “Together?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can just sleep on—”

  “That ugly couch? No. Besides, you drool even a little on that couch, something tells me your aunt is not going to let you exchange it.”

  “I don’t drool.”

  “And there are no beds in the other two rooms.”

  “Because every time my brothers would fight with your sisters, they’d come here to sleep. If they think they’ll have to sleep on the floor, they stay away.”

  “Then where else are we going to sleep?”

  “It wouldn’t be right.”

  She studied him for a moment. “You do understand I’m not talking about having sex with you?”

  “You’re not?”

  Darla gasped and slapped at his arm. It kind of hurt.

  “No, I am not!”

  “You don’t have to yell.”

  “Clearly I do if you think that’s what I want from you.”

  “Wasn’t trying to insult ya, Darla Mae. It’s just ... a wolf and She-wolf sharing the same bed and all—”

  “Does not mean they have to have sex.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No. Now come on.” She grabbed hold of his arm.

  “I’m still not sure about this,” he hedged.

  “Why not? I’ve crashed with male friends before.”

  “You have?”

  “Of course. During concerts or after a long night at the restaurant. Sometimes after a party. Eggie, it’s no big deal.”

  “Well,” he said, letting her pull him into the room behind her. “If you’re sure.”

  “Of course I am. I mean, all those times I’ve slept with my male friends and I’m still a virgin so—”

  Eggie never heard the end of Darla’s sentence because he somehow ended up slamming his head into the door at her words. He stumbled back, blood starting to drip from his nose.

  “Oh, Eggie! Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  And Lord, he was such a liar.

  Thankfully he hadn’t broken his nose. Although it apparently wouldn’t have been a big deal because he’d already broken it seventeen times. Darla didn’t know how that was even possible, but she also knew the man wasn’t much for telling tall tales. It just wasn’t in him.

  She pulled the washcloth that she’d wrapped around ice away from his nose and took another look. “The bleeding’s stopped.”

  “Yeah. It’ll be fine. Just a bit of a headache later.”

  “Was it the virgin thing?”

  He shrugged. “It kind of threw me off.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.”

  “Um . . .” Darla toyed with the washcloth. “You aren’t going to tell my sisters, are you?”

  “Why in heaven or hell would I ever talk about your virginity to your sisters?”

  Disgusted she even had to say it, Darla rolled her eyes and admitted, “They make fun of me about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they always have. Since I was fifteen or so. Anyway, about three years ago, I finally lied and told them it was done with just so they’d stop talking about it.”

  “But why did you tell me?”

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t care.” Darla turned around and sat down on Eggie’s leg. “I knew I could trust you not to make fun of me.”

  “Don’t see why it’s a big deal. You’re only twenty.”

  Darla cleared her throat. “Twenty-five.”

  “Then that’s tragic.”

  Darla punched his chest. “Eggie Ray!”

  And, for the first time, she heard him . . . well . . . chuckle. Sort of. It was kind of a grunt-chuckle.

  “Just kiddin’.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Won’t say a word to your sisters. They don’t speak to me anyway.”

  Darla looked at him, frowned. “Why not?”

  He shrugged those massive shoulders. “Don’t think they like me.”

  “Why wouldn’t they like you? You’re so sweet.”

  “You do know you’re the only human being who’s ever said that to me . . . except my mother and I’m not sure she counts.”

  “Of course she counts and I’m always right. Once you understand that, you’ll be fine.” Besides, she’d straighten out her sisters later. If they were going to live here and be part of the Smith Pack, they had to accept all the brothers, including Eggie. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.

  “Can we go to sleep now?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Are you sure you really want to—”

  “Are we still talking about that?”

  “All right. All right. No need to get that tone.”

  With his arm around her waist, Eggie hoisted her off his lap and onto the bed. “Under the covers,” he ordered.

  Darla slipped under the covers and watched as Eggie followed behind her.

  “Do you want to put up a wall between us so we don’t accidentally touch in the night?” she asked sweetly.

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Giggling, she settled into the bed. Eggie turned off the lamp she’d forgotten she’d left on and relaxed into the bed.

  “Night, Darla.”

  “Night, Eggie.”

  “And, Darla . . . ?”

  “Hhmmh?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not being afraid of me.”

  “Was I supposed to be?”

  “Everybody else is.”

  “I am not everybody else, Egbert Ray Smith. You’d do well to remember that.”

  He chuckled—again!—and said, “Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

  “Good. Then I think everything will be just fine.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t irritate me, Eggie Ray.”

  “You sure are easily irritated for a pacifist.”

  “Quiet.”

  “Yes’m.”

  Eggie always knew as soon as someone was on his territory. Not only did he sense it, but the nearby animals told him. Then again, they often told him things he needed to know. When the weather was about to change, when danger was near, or when family was making their way to his house.

  He hated waking Darla up, but he knew she wouldn’t want to be found cuddled up to his chest, one arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder.

  Eggie doubted he’d slept any more than he would have if he’d just stood outside the entire night, but after an hour or so of just lying here, he’d begun to do something he rarely ever did . . . relax. True, he was still ready to kill at the slightest provocation if any outsiders showed up looking for Darla Mae, but the need to pace until he fell asleep on the floor or at his kitchen table was gone.

  It was nice actually sleeping in his bed. He never had before.

  A crow cawed from a tree outside his window, warning nearby crows about invaders while letting Eggie know that it was his brothers. He knew this because of the panicked sound that the crow made. Crows had surprisingly long memories and after being chased by those idiots more than once, the crows always sent out warnings when the Smith boys were nearby. Only Eggie got a pass, no matter how long he
might be out of the country and, in exchange, he let the crows tag along on hunts. It worked out well.

  “That must be your brothers,” Darla murmured, her breath hot against his skin. He knew he should have put a T-shirt on because that felt mighty nice.

  “Didn’t know you were awake.”

  “Just for a little while. I was so comfortable; I didn’t really want to move.”

  Eggie understood that.

  “Guess we better now,” he told her softly, his fingers itching to smooth her hair off her cheek. “Don’t need my brothers seeing you in my T-shirt. They’ll get all sorts of wrong ideas.”

  Darla leaned her head back a bit so she could look into his face. “You embarrassed by me, Eggie Ray?”

  “No,” he answered honestly. “Just figured you wouldn’t want to be found in bed with me.”

  “Why ever not?”

  Before Eggie could answer, the bedroom door slammed open. Seemed excessive, though, since it had been halfway open anyway.

  “You son of a bitch,” Janie Mae Lewis snarled as she stormed into the room with Darla’s three other sisters behind her. “You bastard, murdering son of a bitch!”

  “Janie Mae!” Darla snapped, scrambling to her knees.

  “Shut up, Darla Mae. Let me handle this.”

  “Handle what? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Ignoring Darla, Janie pointed at Eggie. “Taking advantage of my sister?”

  “I did no such—”

  “Was she even conscious when you had your dirty, disgusting way with her?”

  Before Eggie even had a chance to be insulted by that—and he would have been insulted—Darla Mae roared out, “That is enough!”

  The She-wolf took several breaths before she looked down at him. “Eggie, why don’t you go deal with your brothers downstairs. I need to talk to my sisters for a minute.”

  If they weren’t all kin, Eggie would never leave Darla alone with a crazed She-wolf, especially a pregnant crazed She-wolf. But at the end of the day, they were all kin and it wasn’t Eggie’s place to get between them.

  He slipped off the bed and walked out of his room and down the stairs. His brothers were just coming through the back door when he stepped into his kitchen.

  He nodded at them. They nodded back.

  It was a typical Smith boys’ morning greeting.

  Once Eggie had gone downstairs, Darla faced her sisters. “What is your—”

  Darla’s question was cut off when Janie suddenly grabbed her and hugged her tight.

  “You poor, poor thing,” Janie said, her hands brushing down Darla’s hair. “Should we get you to a hospital?”

  “Hospital?” Darla pulled away from her sister. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t have to lie to us, darlin’,” Francine soothed. “Or be ashamed. This was beyond your control.”

  “What are y’all talking about?”

  “Just tell us if he”—Roberta glanced back and forth between the others—“hurt you.”

  “Hurt me? Why would Eggie hurt—”

  Again cutting off her sister’s words, Janie yanked Darla back into her arms, pressing Darla’s head to her big chest and annoyingly patting the side of Darla’s head.

  “Shhhh, darlin’. Shhhh. Everything is going to be all right. Let’s just get her out of here,” she said to the others. “We’ll deal with Egbert Ray Smith later.”

  Darla pulled away from her sister again, this time moving out of arm’s length. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “Darla—”

  “Eggie Ray saved my life and he has been a complete gentleman.”

  “Yeah,” Janette muttered, “he seemed real gentleman-like on his bed with you two all twined together like that.”

  “There’s only one bed in the entire house.”

  “And a couch.”

  “Did you see that couch? I couldn’t let him sleep on that thing. Might give him nightmares.”

  “You and your thing about ugly furniture,” Roberta sighed.

  “The man saved my life. I’m not about to allow him to spend the night on ugly furniture.” She snapped her fingers. “That reminds me. I need to help him take that ugly furniture back to his aunt. I’m afraid if I don’t help him, he’ll just let her get away with it.”

  “Listen to yourself,” Janie ordered her. “Helping him return furniture? Not telling us the truth about how he took advantage of you last night?”

  “He didn’t take advantage of me last night!”

  “Poor thing,” Roberta said sadly, patting Darla’s shoulder. “You’re just so innocent.”

  She slapped her sister’s hand off. “I am not innocent.”

  “You mean that loss of virginity story?” Janette asked.

  “Yeah,” Francine sighed. “None of us really believed any of that. But it was a nice try.”

  Fed up, Darla asked, “Did you bring me clothes?”

  “Your bag is downstairs but—where are you going?”

  “Away. From you.”

  Her sisters followed behind her, Janie Mae leading the way.

  Just before she reached the stairs, Janie caught Darla’s arm and swung her around. “Now wait one second, little miss—”

  “I don’t report to you, Janie Mae.”

  “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “From who? Eggie?”

  “You don’t know anything about him.”

  “I know enough.”

  “Let me guess,” Janie said with the tone that always set Darla’s teeth on edge. “You looked into his soul and saw he was pure of heart.”

  Her sisters snickered and Darla took a moment to get a little bit of that Southern control she was so proud of. “I know y’all don’t believe me when I say that Great Aunt Bernice taught me the way of—”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Janie cut in. “We’ve heard this all before, Darla Mae. But you can’t see people’s souls, you have no fancy mystical powers, and you are not going to spend another second around that murdering hound dog!”

  Darla pointed her finger in her sister’s face, something she knew for a fact Janie hated. “You will not talk about him like that,” Darla warned her. “Not around me.”

  “Y’all.” Roberta stood between them. “This does not have to get nasty. Let’s just go on home and talk this over with Daddy.”

  “I’ll come home when I’m done.”

  “You’re coming home now,” Janie ordered.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I’m done with this.” Janie gripped Darla’s arm and pulled her toward the stairs.

  Fed up with her sister’s ridiculous—and downright rude!—behavior, Darla slapped her sister’s hand off. And Janie pushed her back.

  “You get downstairs and get your ass out of this house, Darla Mae.”

  “And you stay out of my business, Janie Mae.”

  “Y’all,” Roberta warned.

  But Roberta should have known better. Instead of soothing the situation, her words acted more like a starter’s pistol. Darla and Janie grabbed each other’s hair as soon as Roberta spoke, both screeching and stumbling down the stairs while their other sisters tried to stop them.

  It was not what their momma would call the proper way a Southern lady acts.

  They all heard the She-wolves bickering at the top of the stairs but they kept eating their cereal. Whatever the rest of the shifter world might think, Smiths weren’t stupid. They lived as long as they did—and some of them lived a very long time—because they knew when to fight and when to fade into the forest. And the one thing every Smith male learned was don’t get in the middle of a She-wolf fight. Especially one that involves sisters.

  So they ate their cereal while standing in Eggie’s kitchen and listened to all the bickering.

  Eggie wasn’t hurt by what he heard either. He was kind of used to it. Janie Mae had never really liked him. Eggie didn’t know why, but Janie Mae must have heard enough to make up her mind and she’d ne
ver hid her feelings about . . . well, about anything. But definitely not about how much she didn’t like or trust him.

  Then again, a lot of people didn’t like Eggie, but that wasn’t something he allowed to keep him up at night.

  Nicky Ray, the first to finish eating because he didn’t really eat so much as inhale, asked, “So why did you kidnap her?”

  “Didn’t. Rescued.”

  “Not as far as everyone in Smithville is concerned.”

  “Don’t care what everyone in Smithville thinks.”

  “And thanks for leaving those bodies,” Bubba Ray complained.

  “Sent clean up.”

  “Why didn’t you clean it up?”

  “Not my specialty. Sent hyenas.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

  Frankie Ray frowned. “Cleaning up bodies is considered a specialty?”

  “If you want to get in and out in less than thirty minutes—yep.”

  Benjamin stared into his empty bowl. “Got any more cereal?”

  Eggie was reaching into his cabinet for the cereal box when the bickering stopped and the screeching started. When they heard what sounded like a body—or bodies— falling down the stairs, the brothers tossed their bowls into the sink or onto the kitchen table and ran into the hallway.

  Thankfully, no one had fallen down the stairs—especially not Janie who was pregnant with Bubba’s baby—but the sisters were fighting their way down, Janie and Darla right in the middle of it.

  Without a thought for his own safety or the safety of his major arteries, Eggie grabbed hold of Darla and Bubba grabbed Janie. They tried to pull them apart but the She-wolves had such tight grips on each other’s hair that it was damn near impossible. Thankfully, the other sisters stepped in and managed to get them free long enough that Eggie and Bubba could drag the two away from each other.

  Yet now that they no longer had hold of each other, the screeching stopped and the yelling began.

  “You are coming home, Darla Mae!”

  “I’m not going anywhere! If I want to stay here with Eggie Ray, I’m staying!”

  “That son of a bitch will kill you while you sleep!”

  Insulted, Eggie snapped, “Hey!”

  “Shut up, murderer!”