Shifters' Captive:Magical Menages 1(31)

Sherrie had found him to be even-tempered and calm, a good balance to  her more volatile nature. But most of all she loved the way he simply  loved her-unreasoning, elemental emotion without strings attached. She  thought this might be their last time with Grant. It was no sacrifice  for her to give up their occasional threesomes if that made John more  confident of her feelings for him. Grant was sexy as hell, but he wasn't  indispensible to her like John was.

"How about that coffee now?"

Sherrie pulled away from John and glanced over her shoulder. Grant's amber eyes blinked, and his brows rose.

"You were going to make it, remember?" she said.

"Was I?" He feigned ignorance.

"I'll do it." John rose from the bed and padded across the room. Sherrie  watched the graceful swagger of his naked backside with interest.

When he was out of the room, she turned to Grant. "Tell me the truth now. Did you go after Evan? Is he dead?"

He widened his eyes, looking so exactly like a cat pretending he hadn't  just eaten the goldfish that she nearly laughed. But this was no  goldfish. They were talking about a man's life, albeit a dangerous man  who'd killed a few people and threatened many more. They were talking  about a man who might be her half-brother, a man who might share her  blood.

"Did you?" she demanded.

Grant shrugged. "Wolf law isn't our law. We do things our own way." It  wasn't an answer. Sherrie continued to stare at him, waiting.

"He's been taken care of," Grant said, and the finality in his tone left  her with no doubt that the man who'd claimed he was her brother was  dead. She'd never know the truth about Evan Blake. She was left with a  possibility which would always haunt her.

Grant studied her face. "That upsets you. Why?"

"If he really was my brother, I would've liked to know and to find out more about him, what made him the way he was."

"He was a crazy fucker. Let it go," he advised then changed the subject with his usual abruptness.

"How are things with you and the wolf?" He nodded toward the doorway  through which John had disappeared. "You planning to keep living with  the wolves?" She nodded. "I like this town, even if some of the people  don't like having me here. Most are okay, and I can win over the others  in time. My mom and I always moved around a lot, so I got pretty good at  adapting to new situations."

Grant smiled. "You're more like us. Panthers don't need a pack. We  travel alone and always land on our feet. You should come up the  mountain and meet some of my people sometime. I think you'd like my  friend Marina, who told me to tell you thanks for saving her life. We  could have some fun together."         

     



 

"Maybe I will. I'll think about it." But she doubted she would.

The smell of brewing coffee wafted from the other room along with the aroma and sound of sizzling bacon.

Grant rolled off the bed. "Guess we should go help so he doesn't complain."

"He never complains. You just enjoy goading him." Sherrie slipped into  John's Colorado U T-shirt and followed Grant to the kitchen where John  was preparing a late evening breakfast.

"Won't you be going out hunting soon?" she asked.

"Not tonight. Not me, anyway, I can't speak for Grant. I smell rain coming and it's pretty cozy indoors."

"She's domesticated you, Balto," Grant teased. "Next time I come around, you'll be wearing a collar and leash."

Sherrie grinned and waggled her eyebrows at John when he looked at her.  "A leash and collar sounds kinda sexy to me. What do you think? Are  metal spikes too much?" John smiled back at her and mouthed silently,  "We'll talk." Grant seemed to think John lacked a sense of a humor, but  he had no idea.

Sherrie watched the two men chopping onions and frying potatoes and  thought this was exactly what people meant by domestic tranquility.  She'd never been happier. Part animal though they might be, John and  Grant were more human than some of the guys she'd dated in L.A.

She thought back to the night John had snatched her off the street as she trudged home from work.

She'd never have imagined her kidnapper would turn out to be her lover  and one of the best men she'd ever met. And Grant? Well, she still  wasn't quite sure where he and his polyamorous nature fit into the  equation, but he certainly kept things spicy for them.

She loved her new life, but maybe it was time to go see her mother and  ask a few questions about her memories of Sherrie's dad. Surely someone  in Browning would have at least one picture of the man, and maybe her  mom would recognize his face. But Sherrie knew she'd return to Browning  where at long last she'd found a home.

At that moment, both shifters happened to look at her, brown eyes and  golden both glowing with affection. Sherrie smiled at them and mentally  repeated that last comforting thought. I'm home.