The Accidental Werewolf 2: Something About Harry (Accidentally Paranormal Novel) (12 page)

Relief washed over Mara, relief and gratitude. In this very moment, she was petrified of what would happen to Harry and his children. Her fear of the council was only secondary to helping Harry and the kids overcome their obstacles and adjust. She couldn’t do that if she was in the pokey. “Thank you,” she murmured low, because it was all she was capable of doing.

Marty lifted her chin, using her thumb to swipe at a stray tear on Mara’s cheek. “I want to talk about what you said about me yesterday.”

“What did I say yesterday?”

“You said you weren’t as good at charming people with your smile as I am, and that’s why you’re single. Why do I have anything to do with that?”

Mara let her head hang low with regret. “Poor choice of words. What I meant was, being with the opposite sex is easy for you.” She shook her head. “Wait. What I mean is you relate well to those outside of your gender. I guess . . . I guess I envy that. No. That’s not true. I totally envy it. Obviously, if I related better, I wouldn’t be making werewolf babies in a lab. I’d be rutting until the cows came home, making babies the good old-fashioned way.”

Marty chuckled. “And you’re smart. I envy that. So there. We should activate our Wonder Twin powers. Imagine the shit that would rain down, huh?”

Mara’s eyes filled with tears. She was tired, and worried, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Marty’s feelings. “I really love you, Marty. I hope you know that. Since you came into our lives, into the pack, everything’s been a million times better.
Everything
. I’m just really uncomfortable with men. You know, the norm. Small talk suckage, flirty suckage—I suck at all of it. You’re a pro. Which is why you have Keegan and I have a baby-making serum.”

“Oh, Mara. I wish you saw you the way we all see you.”

“Geeky, nerdy, timid?”

Marty shook her head, the swish of her blond hair artful and perfect against the color of her denim shrug. “Gorgeous, genius smart, so totally unaware you can have anything you want.”

Right. It always worked like that for women like her.

Marty cocked her head, taking Mara’s hand in her perfectly manicured fingers. “You have it bad for our Harry, don’t you, honey?”

“It borders on ridiculous.”

“Making this situation a hundred times more uncomfortable for you.”

“Times infinity.”

“You know, I’d give you tips on how to flirt and all sorts of pointers if I thought that was you, sweetie. But it’s not you, and that’s okay. I wish you’d see that. It might be helpful when catching the prey, but it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference when you want to keep it. What good does flirting do you when the hard stuff in a relationship comes along? Can you flirt yourself out of a financial hardship or a long-term medical issue? No. You need to be smart. You’re smart, Mara. So, so smart. You’re funny. You’re gorgeous. You’re gentle, and most of all, you’re kind. Don’t let that stop you from pursuing the things that you want—even after this is all water under the bridge.”

Was there water under the council’s prison bridge? Her grainy eyes filled with more unshed tears. She shook it off and laughed in irony, focusing on the flat screen TV in the far corner opposite the couch. “Well, I can want Harry for days, but he kind of has to want me back for it to work out.”

“I don’t just mean Harry. I’m not talking about a man, hunky Harry or otherwise. I mean wanting to parent.”

“But—”

She flapped a hand upward to hush Mara, her chunky costume ring on her finger flashing with the gesture. “Oh, I know what the pack says,” she said in that poo-poo way she had of dismissing something she didn’t approve of. “The pack says all sorts of things—all sorts of stupid things. Remember the things they said to me? Sure you do. You were there when they carried on about how bad humans mating with werewolves was blah, blah, blah. The pack is all bark and almost no bite. If you want to artificially inseminate yourself, it’s your damn body, and I’ll fight to the death to see you have the right to do as you please with it as long as you’re not harming yourself. The pack can suck it, as far as I’m concerned. Who are they to tell you, by whatever means you wish, you can’t have a baby?”

“A baby?” Keegan roared, bursting through Marty’s office door. Large and fit, his muscled build barreled to a stop in front of the women. “Mara’s having a baby?” he bellowed, which was essentially the Keegan way. If no one answered you, you just yelled louder.

Marty jumped up just as Mara’s face flushed red. She shrunk down into the cushiony softness of the couch while she watched Marty set about “handling” her brother. Marty was a pro at soothing Keegan’s rougher edges. They offset each other in every way—a balance no one watching the two of them together could deny.

“Is that any way to greet your wife?” Marty purred up at Keegan, cupping his lean jaw and running her fingers through his graying temple.

“Remiss me. Lay one on me, Mrs. Flaherty. Hollis is just outside that door, waiting for me to take her home so we can have princess tea. You know, boas, tiaras, tea in those cups the size of my thumb? So make it count,” he ordered on an indulgent chuckle.

Keegan did all sorts of girl-things with Hollis. He let her paint his nails, curl his hair, put makeup on him . . . When it came to Marty and Hollis, Keegan was just a pile of gooey mush. Her brother’s family was everything Mara had ever wanted. He was a different man since meeting Marty five years ago.

Marty dutifully lifted her lips for a kiss, her tinkle of laughter sweet and light.

“Now, who’s having a baby, ladies?” Keegan said against her lips, leaving one eye open to scan Mara’s form on the couch with a critical gaze.

Mara’s heart began that fluttering beat again. She was going to have to lie. Keegan would sense something was wrong with her, and then he’d interrogate it out of her. Then he’d know, and he’d have no choice as alpha but to take action.

Panic forced her to repeat the mantra, less is more, Mara. Shut up. Keep it simple.

Marty pulled back, hooking her arms around his waist, giving Keegan a frown, but forcing him and his penetrating gaze to focus on her, taking the heat off Mara. “No one’s having a baby, silly. So quit interrupting conversations you’re not invited to join. Mara and I are dishing. Girl-talk. Which means none of your business.”

Keegan’s hard jaw clenched tight. He narrowed his eyes, skeptical. “I feel like there’s something going on I should know about. Yet I’m afraid to ask for fear it’s nothing, and you’ll cancel our wrestling match date to punish me for accusing you unjustly.”

“You guys go to wrestling matches?” Mara managed to squeak from the couch, forcing her guilty panic to calm.

Marty swatted at Keegan’s shoulder, her eyes full of the kind of affection Mara had grown so fond of witnessing. “No. That’s what we tell Hollis we’re doing. Let me just say this. Four-year-olds are the most inquisitive, nosy beasts on the planet. She’s at the age where all she does is ask a question about everything. Especially when Mommy and Daddy make too much noise while we’re, you know, wrestling.” Marty winked, her long lashes sweeping her cheek.

Mara hopped off the couch, wrinkling her nose in teasing protest. “Okay. No explanations required. In fact, please don’t explain. It’s almost like hearing my parents talk about doing it,” she joked.

Marty laughed, squeezing Keegan’s hand before shooing him toward the door. “Mom’s do it, too,” she taunted. Turning to Keegan, she pointed toward the outer office. “Go. We have girl stuff right now. But tonight? After we put said nosy beast to bed? You. Me. A T-bone for two?”

Keegan planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Ludmilla the Russian Spy, willing to do whatever it takes to get the super secret government formula from Heinrich, the suave, yet debonair millionaire? Even interrogate him, you know, wrestling match–style,” he said over Marty’s shoulder for Mara’s benefit, laughing as he sauntered out the door.

Mara jammed her hands into her oversized lab coat, tugging at her lifeless turtleneck. “Well, that explains why I can’t get a date. I need to change my name to Ludmilla and practice my Russian accent.”

Marty pulled her into a hug, squeezing her close just as her cell phone rang. She dug it out of the back pocket of her skinny jeans and frowned before returning her eyes to Mara. “I’ve got to take this. But this conversation isn’t over. I want to help you, honey. Not just Harry. Okay?”

“You got it. I have to get back to work anyway. See you later,
Ludmilla
.” She laughed her way to the elevators, warmed that Marty and Keegan were truly so happy. She’d do anything to protect that—even if it meant lying to Keegan about Marty’s involvement in the Harry incident.

On her way out the door, she caught Hollis and Keegan at the elevator. Hollis was the spitting image of Marty. Everything about her screamed “girlie” from her wispy blond hair, caught up in two barrettes with streaming ribbons on either side of her head, to the fashionably red and orange jumper dress she wore with complementing black tights and shiny red clogs. Save her smile. Her smile was all Flaherty. Wide, open, generous. “Aunt Mara!” She wiggled her excitement.

Mara bent down and scooped her up, dropping a kiss on the top of her golden head. “You are the prettiest thing I’ve seen since I went to the frog store to look at frogs.”

Hollis giggled, her chubby cheeks rising upward in an angelic grin. “Frogs aren’t pretty because they don’t have lips. And frogs can’t wear lipstick. See?” She puckered her lips. “I have on sparkly lipstick.”

“Okay, fine. You have lips. That means you win the pretty prize!” Mara giggled at their private joke. She would come up with the ugliest thing she could think of to compare Hollis to, and Hollis would respond with something that never failed to make Mara fall more in love with her.

It was their ritual—one Mara cherished. “So, you off to give Daddy some tea and a pretty pink boa? Speaking of, when are you gonna come to Aunt Mara’s and have girls’ night? We’ll watch movies and eat popcorn and stay up really late. Like at least till eight thirty.”

Keegan came up behind her, draping his arm around Mara’s shoulder. “Hollis has been begging to have a girls’ night with you, but we didn’t want to cramp your newfound independence.”

When she’d made the choice to have a child, she’d also decided to move out of the house where Marty and Keegan still lived, along with, until just a few months ago, her brother Sloan. Keegan had offered the estate’s guesthouse after her endless search for a reasonably priced apartment had turned up some questionable properties. While she knew it was due to Keegan’s overprotective, bossy nature and the fact that Marty wanted to keep her close, she’d agreed only after Keegan and Marty agreed to accept monthly rent.

Despite what she was sure other employees thought, she was paid what any other lab tech was paid to work at Pack. Keegan had insisted on it, and it had been that way since she’d gotten her degree and come home from college ten years ago. As a Flaherty, you didn’t piss away your portion of the proceeds from a Fortune 500 company. You worked to make it more successful.

Hollis wrapped her chubby arms around Mara’s neck and squeezed, making Mara sigh contentedly with the scent of cupcakes and little girl. “So can I come over, Aunt Mara?”

Damn. What had she been thinking?
No, you can’t come over, Hollis. Aunt Mara’s hiding an angry man she’s wildly attracted to and a half zombie named Carl under her bed
. Instantly, she fought her body’s reaction to the lie she was going to tell. Forcing herself to relax, she smiled—an easy thing to do with Hollis. “Soon, pumpkin. I’ve got a lot going on these days while I’m fixing up the cottage. Bunches and bunches of stinky chemicals and paints, and I’ve been putting in a lot of overtime here at work. But I promise to call you soon, and we’ll have a girls’ night. Okay?” She gave her niece a pinch on the cheek, rubbing noses with her before handing her off to Keegan.

Who was frowning down at her.

He set Hollis down, directing her to push the button for the elevator. When he turned to her, his hard face was tight, his lips thin. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean, what’s going on? What could be going on?” Using the Marty tactic, she feigned innocence with wide eyes and an exasperated snort. When being accused of something or asked a question about a situation you were absolutely up to your neck in, behave as though your accuser is crazy.

“I mean, what are you doing with your time these days?”

Also, when your accuser is poking around the accused, use humor. Marty tactic number two. Mara shrugged her shoulders and sighed forlornly. “Oh, the usual. You know, lab tech by day, dominatrix by night.”

Keegan tapped the bridge of her nose with affection, but he wasn’t smiling. “Funny, you.”

Mara rolled her eyes at him and reminded herself to remain calm, but move on to tactic number three: appear irritated with her big brother for behaving, well, like a big brother. “Well, what do you think is going on Keegan? Nothing ever goes on in my life. I work. I go home. I renovate. Wash, rinse, repeat. The most exciting thing I’ve done this week is refinish the kitchen cabinets and clean my refrigerator.”

But Keegan wasn’t totally buying it. God, he was a nosy ass sometimes. He sniffed the air, a frown knitting his eyebrows together. “Something’s not right. I can smell it.”

And tactic number four in the Marty Handbook of Avoiding Getting Caught: get away. “
You’re
not right. So knock it off, Keegan. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Look, I have to go. I have a ton of work down in the lab. So quit harassing me about my life and go live yours, pal.” She turned to scurry toward the stairs, but Keegan grabbed her arm.

“Dinner tomorrow night? Sloan’s coming. So is Jeannie. She’s bringing her better-than-crack brownies.” He smiled the way he used to when he was apologizing for interfering in her very adult life without actually saying the words.

But she warmed—only because she loved Jeannie, her brother’s djinn-caterer wife. She made the absolute best pastries ever. How she managed to run the djinn realm and still keep her catering business going like gangbusters always left Mara so full of admiration. “Text me the time. And I accept your apology for being a nosy ass,” she said on a laugh, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before darting off to run for her guilty cover.