Melinda’s Wolves(2)

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. It’s insane. We’re all still trying to piece it together. But she’s here now. And her mate is with her.” Griffen nodded behind him. “Let’s go inside. I’m sure you’d both rather have a drink than stand out here gabbing all night.”

•●•

Melinda leaned against the kitchen counter, crossed her legs, and cleared her throat. “When are you going to tell them?” she asked Rebecca.

Rebecca turned a cheery face toward her from her spot holding up the center island. “Tell who what?” She batted her eyes.

Melinda smirked. “Don’t give me that shit, girl. You might be pulling the wool over my brother’s eyes, and maybe even Griffen’s, but you aren’t fooling me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Melinda let her gaze roam down Rebecca’s arms. They stiffened as she white-knuckled the edge of the granite counter.

The great room was huge and crowded with all of their friends and family. Miles and Griffen had busted their balls to get the house done by this day. They insisted they wanted their mate to be in their new home before the baby came. It seemed to Melinda they’d accomplished the feat in the nick of time.

“Don’t force me to be the bad guy here,” Melinda said. “If I have to tell my brother you’re in labor, he’ll have a coronary.”

Rebecca pasted on a fake grin. “I’m fine. It’s super early.” She released the counter to wave a hand in front of her. “Plenty of time. Besides, your grandmother said tomorrow,” she announced, as if the proclamation were as good as gold.

“That may be, but it’s seven o’clock. Tomorrow starts in five hours. And if you recall, I have the same abilities as Mimi. I’m clear on what she senses concerning your delivery. I’ve known you were close for days.”

Rebecca glanced around. “Shhh. Keep your voice down. I’ll tell them in plenty of time. Let’s enjoy the party.” The last words were spoken through gritted teeth.

Melinda took a deep breath, intending to read Rebecca the riot act, but instead she froze in her tracks. She held the deep inhale, blinking at Rebecca, her mouth partway open, no voice to be found.

“Oh shit.” Those words were spoken by her brother. She’d know his voice anywhere.

A hush fell over the room.

Melinda still stared at her pregnant sister-in-law as though she could avoid the inevitable for another moment if she didn’t remove her gaze from Rebecca.

Rebecca twisted around to see what all the commotion, or sudden lack of commotion, was about. “What?”

Only two people moved. Melinda saw them out of her peripheral vision. She closed her eyes and blew out the breath she held, only to inhale again. And then she dropped her chin and turned her face in the direction of the new scents.

Her mates. Not just one. Two. Both wolf shifters. Who were they? How was there someone at this party she’d never met—let alone two men—who were her destiny?

And more importantly, how had this snuck up on her without any premonition? Hardly anything got by her. She was sensitive. As a medicine woman for her tribe, she usually knew things before they happened. Not always with clarity, but rarely was she caught off guard like this.

Finally, she blinked her eyes open. She swallowed as she gripped the counter behind her with at least as much force as Rebecca. The two men stepping into her space forced her to lift her gaze.

Her heart pounded so hard, they could both surely hear it. She couldn’t breathe without inhaling more and more of their scents with every breath. All-consuming. The world around her ceased to exist as she finally tipped her head back enough to sweep her gaze up two fine male chests until she reached their faces.

Her mouth was dry, her lips falling open. She couldn’t even bring herself to lick them. Both men had furrowed brows that seemed incongruent with the slight tip of their mouths in identical grins.

The man on the left looked exactly like Griffen. He was clearly one of the other three Masters boys—dark tan skin, dark hair, dark eyes that would make any woman’s panties wet.

The one on the right was almost as tan, but he had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and deep blue eyes that held her attention for several seconds.

Did they know each other? That question was answered when the blond grabbed the other man’s forearm and held it firmly.

“You must be Melinda Bartel,” the darker man finally said. “You look a lot like Miles.”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“I’m Trace Masters, Griffen’s brother. And this is Keegan Phillips.” He nodded toward his friend, but didn’t take his gaze off her face.