Melinda’s Wolves(31)

Melinda relaxed marginally. “What if it’s not a hoax?”

“Then I’ll have an even bigger problem on my hands, and I’ll handle it. But I can’t call the sheriff’s office over every email.” He lifted his gaze to Trace. “You know how it is. The deputies on the reservation would run ragged if they got a call like that every day.”

“But this email is different, isn’t it?” she asked.

Keegan sighed. “Yeah.”

“How?” Trace asked.

“Anonymous. Pointed. Specific.” He released her hand and wiped his palms on his jeans.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Keegan. Are you sure it’s safe to poke around before you call the sheriff’s office? I could talk to some guys at the station. I know Corbin Archers. He’s a friend and a deputy.”

Keegan shook his head. “Actually, I need you to pretend we never had this conversation. The last thing I want is for anyone to suspect you or Trace have any knowledge of it.”

“But—”

He wrapped a hand around her neck and hauled her face close to kiss her on the lips. “I’ll handle it. I promise. Just keep this to yourself. Please.”

“Keegan, keep me informed. I don’t like this any more than Melinda does.”

“Promise.” Keegan pulled her into his side and held her tight.

They rode the last few minutes in silence.

“You’re so stressed, baby.” Trace stroked a hand down her cheek.

She hoped he was watching the road. She nodded. The tension wasn’t something she could hide. To try and deny it would be futile. But the subject was closed for now.

Finally, Trace pulled up to her shop. She smiled as she glanced at the entrance. She smiled every time she arrived. She loved her shop and took great pride in making it inviting. Through the front windows, it caught the eye with the colorful displays she always kept in the window—blankets, beadwork, and fine leather clothing drew customers into her store. It was nestled in a strip between a small furniture store and a hair dresser. The perfect location in her opinion.

Keegan opened the door, jumped down, turned, and lifted her out. So fucking polite. And so familiar. She loved that about him. And hated it.

She held his biceps and set her forehead on his chest, taking a deep breath.

“Let’s go inside.” He gripped her waist. “I’m excited to see your place, meet your friends.”

She let him take her hand and lead her to the door.

When they walked in, her hand in Keegan’s and Trace’s palm at the small of her back, both her employees glanced up.

Sherri and Liz were smiling, but their faces immediately changed when they realized the implications of the trio before them. They were both shifters. The imminent mating wouldn’t escape their attention.

Sherri jumped from her perch on a stool at the cash register and clapped her hands. She rounded the counter at an incredible pace and wrapped Melinda in her embrace. “Oh my God. I’m so happy for you.”

Liz was right behind her, but her gaze was on Keegan…and then Trace. That was Liz. Assessing. Judging. Deciding. Thoughtful. Finally, she smiled hugely and reached out a hand. “Welcome. I’m Liz.”

Trace released Melinda to shake Liz’s hand.

Keegan kept a grip on Melinda with his left hand as he reached with his right. “Keegan, and this is Trace.” He pointed at her other mate.

Sherri clapped her hands together again as she righted herself. “I’m Sherri.” She turned her gaze to Melinda. “What are you doing here?” she whispered as though that caused her words to become intimate and private.

“I own the place? I work here every day?” Melinda tried to keep a straight face.

Sherri rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but you obviously have other things to attend to.” She glanced both ways at the tall men flanking them.

Melinda wanted to groan. It truly sucked that any wolf on the planet could scent that the three of them were not only destined as mates, but that they had not yet consummated the claiming. “Take it easy. We just met last night.”

That was the wrong thing to admit.

Sherri gasped. “Last night? Last night?” Her voice rose. “I thought you were going to say an hour ago. Ten minutes. Two minutes. What the hell are you doing here?” She grabbed Melinda by the hand and tugged. As she manhandled her friend away from the men, she glanced back at them. “Pardon us for a minute. I need to speak to Melinda in the backroom.”

Melinda followed willingly, for once not the least bit angry with her slightly over-meddling friend. She needed the space, and Sherri was buying that for her.

Besides, Liz was the consummate hostess. She would give the guys a tour and keep them occupied while Melinda took a breath and pretended to listen to Sherri chewing her ass out.