UNRAVELING MIDNIGHT
Creating Home, Book Two
STEPHANIE BECK
LYRICAL PRESS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/
For Pam and Kelly, my clicking sisters
Chapter 1
Scott’s boys were going to be the death of him. He looked at the two young males rolling around the grass in a tangle of arms and legs. At least they were outside this time. He’d thought dealing with twins when they were infants was difficult. It turned out he’d only gotten a taste of hell in those years of bottles and diapers.
“All right, boys, get up. I want you running down to the trees and back a dozen times.”
They groaned, but got to their feet. Ross and Greg were twelve and so near to puberty they reeked of the horrid promise. Mood swings, temper flares, and the almighty shifting time approached at a breakneck speed without apology. Their scents pledged within the next two years there were going to be major changes in his household dynamics. Scott wasn’t ready.
“I bet I can run it twenty times,” Greg said, kicking his shoes off.
“I can run it twenty-five,” Ross challenged.
“Then do it,” Scott ordered and watched them take off.
He blew out a sigh of relief. Maybe the monsters would get to sleep at a decent hour. If he wore them out, they were good little pups after dinner. If they were full of energy, things in the house started to get broken from all the roughhousing.
But that’s the way things were when there were two adolescent werewolves under one roof. He now understood why his mother had gotten rid of all the furniture in the basement and had given him and his brothers mattresses. Even those had gotten torn up on occasion during wolf play or even screwing around as humans. Things had to be different in his house though, because it wasn’t only him and the boys.
Scott turned and found the sweetness in his life. Jessie. Completely innocent and only six years old, she didn’t deserve to live in an older-brother-proofed house. Scott did his best to wear them all out so she could have at least a little peace at home.
He frowned when he realized she was sitting on a bench with an adult. Usually his daughter was very reserved with other people, so he didn’t worry about her talking to strangers. Being a werewolf led to a certain amount of caution in the young ones. They were taught early to hide their secret from strangers and to also be wary of outsiders. Scott found the scent of the adult. A female human, nonthreatening, but then no one seemed threatening until they did something horrible.
Like his former mate. Just the thought of what Tiffany had done to the kids put Scott’s feet in motion. No one was going to get a chance to hurt his little girl and even if the human was innocent, it was up to him to decide, not Jessie.
* * * *
“What are you doing?”
Lucy turned and smiled when she found a pretty little girl had snuck up on her. She was dirty, her pigtails were crooked and she was missing three teeth. She looked exactly how a happy, healthy child in the summer should.
“I’m knitting,” Lucy replied. “What are you doing?”
The child scratched at a scab on her elbow. “Playing. My daddy is running the boys and I was building a sand castle, but the sand in the sandbox isn’t wet enough and I didn’t bring my water bottle.”
“Oh.” Lucy pulled out a bottle of water from her lunch bag. “Here you go, honey. You can use this if you’d like.”
“My name isn’t honey,” she said, accepting the water bottle. “I’m Jessie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jessie. I’m Lucy.”
Jessie wrinkled her nose. “That’s a grandma name.”
She laughed. “Oh? Says who?”
“My daddy. My mom wanted to name me Lucy but Dad says that’s an old fuddy duddy name like Martha.”
Lucy laughed again. “Well, I guess it does have a certain old-school flare to it. Jessie does too. I had a grandma named Jessie.”
“Really? I had a grandma Sophie but she died and my other grandma June kicked us out ’cause she thinks we’re all evil.” Immediately the little girl locked her lips shut and blushed. “I’m not supposed to talk about that.”
Lucy smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Jessie. I’ve already forgotten.”
She’d gotten the chance to have her niece and nephew for a month while her sister concentrated on school, so she’d learned all about oversharing information and dealing with it. There was no use in making the child feel self-conscious. Sometimes they needed to say things and move on.
“Okay. What are you making?” Jessie asked, back to smiling.
“Today it’s socks.” She reached in her knitting tote. “Here is the first one and I’m half done with the second.”
“No way.” Jessie’s eyes widened as she looked at the sock. “You actually made this with just string?”
“Well, yarn and four needles.”
“Jessie.”
The sharp tone made Lucy wince, but Jessie didn’t seem to notice she’d done something wrong.
“Hi, Daddy. This is Lucy. She made a sock!”
Jessie’s daddy didn’t look too happy and Lucy tried to put on a friendly face. However besides unhappy, he also looked threatening. Deep scars on his cheeks spoke of past violence and his shortly buzzed hair didn’t provide any relief from the harshness of his features. Every part of him said he was not only willing, but happy, to kick ass if needed. If Jessie hadn’t called him ‘daddy’, Lucy wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to get past his huge size to even offer a smile.
“Are you supposed to bother strangers, Jessie?” her father asked.
“She’s not a stranger. She’s Lucy and she makes stuff. Can you teach me to make this, Daddy?”
Lucy bit back a smile when the big, threatening man simply pinched the bridge of his nose. She couldn’t hear him, but his lips moved as if he were counting to ten. Scary or not, this man was doing his best to live up to the ‘daddy’ title and, to Lucy, that made him more approachable.
“We’ve been visiting.” Lucy offered her hand, hoping to cross the stranger-and-acquaintance gap. “I’m Lucy Jamieson. I own the yarn shop across the park over there.”
He tentatively accepted her hand, eyeing it first like it was unexpected and maybe it was. For sure she’d bet his size and threatening features made for few random introductions. She’d also noticed over the month with the kids that adults at parks didn’t interact much. They weren’t out to make friends like the kids were. Lucy didn’t see why they couldn’t at least be friendly.
“Scott Terwolf. Thanks for entertaining her but, Jessie, you need to go play while we’re here.”
“Oh.” The smile on Jessie’s face fell and, though Lucy knew her dad wasn’t intentionally being abrupt or mean, he’d popped her friendly balloon. “Okay. Thanks for talking to me, Lucy.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Have fun with your sandcastle. Don’t forget the bottle.”
Jessie’s shy smile was a comfort after the abrupt change