Read Dalton, Tymber - Stoneface (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Online
Authors: Tymber Dalton
Dalton, Tymber - Stoneface (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)
Ruthie used to be a had-her-shit-together bank manager. Until four years prior, when she was three months pregnant and taken hostage by a bank robber whose getaway driver spooked and drove off without him when the women resisted. She’d been working the isolated drive-thru booth with another teller, and the men had jumped them when they emerged after closing. Ruthie had offered herself as a higher-value hostage in exchange for the teller he’d grabbed first, a single mom with three small children.
When a police SWAT team rescued her from a hotel room eight hours later, she’d been beaten, raped, tortured…and ended up losing the baby. A baby they’d tried to have for five years and two IVF attempts.
Between Ruthie’s post-traumatic stress disorder, panic attacks, and other trauma-related issues as a result of the attack, she was nearly homebound. Other than their family, she had no friends left.
Besides Gwen.
Ruthie’s husband, Bob, was a sweet man who had stood by his wife’s side during it all, including her multiple hospitalizations and suicide attempts. Bob wasn’t like Gwen’s horndog ex. He wouldn’t cheat on Ruthie. He loved her.
All Gwen had to do was keep reminding Ruthie of that.
“Okay. Back to research,” Gwen said to get the subject off Ruthie. “What did you have in mind?”
“You mentioned you wanted to write a series of romances set out west. I could do some footwork for you.”
“You want an excuse to use up your vacation time and be able to deduct it.”
And have more time with your mystery man
, she thought. “When will Bob have my taxes done, anyway? I filed the extension after the other bullshit with Dickweed.” Considering Ruthie’s state of mind this morning, Gwen didn’t dare call her back to ask if she knew, and didn’t feel like calling Bob, either. “Did he give you a timeframe when you dropped the stuff off?”
“No, he didn’t. I know he’s going out of town, he told me. So you don’t mind if I go?”
Gwen took a sip of coffee. Ruthie had mentioned him taking a business trip next week.
Great. That means I’ll be shuttling between her house and Mom and Dad’s.
“I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning. Of course I don’t mind if you go. I’m your sister, not your freaking boss.”
“Technically you are, because you pay me to help you. You’ve got the book signing in town next weekend, remember?” That wasn’t the only thing Amy was worried about and Gwen damn well knew it.
Gwen groaned. “You know what? I can handle it. Liam can come with me. He’ll be dying for a chance to escape Mom for a few hours. Just go and have fun. You’ve more than earned it.” She gave Amy a one-armed hug and carried her coffee back out to the desk.
Tim had replied to Gwen’s e-mail.
You can have as much coffee as you want on me, if you ever come visit me, I promise. Kissy-huggy! - TimE.
Well, if her day had to go to shit, at least she had Tim to cheer her up. They normally e-mailed back and forth several times a week, sometimes several times a day. He felt like a close friend even though they’d never met in real life, or even talked on the phone. She loved their flirty banter despite knowing it would never amount to anything other than great fodder for her books.
Le sigh.
Amy followed Gwen to her desk. “I need to go to work. So we’re cool with me bugging out on you for a little while?”
“Jesus, I said go. What, you going on safari or something?”
“No, just Rapid City for two weeks.”
She couldn’t resist the urge to bust Amy’s balls. “There’s two weeks’ worth of stuff to do in Rapid City?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “I’m going to drive around and sightsee. Do some hiking. If I don’t use that vacation time, I’m going to lose it. I’ll be out there already, so it’ll save me hassles with our ’rents, you know that. A legitimate reason to be gone so I don’t have to explain myself. You’ll back me up, right?”
Gwen snorted. “Yeah, they’ll blame me instead. It’s not like you have to change my diaper or anything, kiddo. I’m your little sister, not a fricking baby. I think I can check my own post office box and pay my own bills and stuff for a couple of weeks. And of course I’ll deal with Mom and Dad and keep Liam from killing them. Seriously, go have fun. You deserve it.”
Amy hugged her again. “Thanks, sis.”
Amy left, leaving Gwen to wonder if maybe she should head back to bed. Dickweed’s call, her sister acting odd and with a secret guy on the side, and Ruthie acting odder than usual.
And people wonder why I’m a writer.
Chapter Two
Jonathan stared at her with deep, dark emerald eyes full of passion. “I am going to claim you, woman. You belong to me.”
Shelaine wanted to resist but her body said otherwise. She felt moisture pooling between her legs as her own hunger grew. That’s when Markham growled in her ear. “And I am going to claim you, too. By the time the sun arises, you will be filled with our seed and begging for more.”
Her mind tried to rebel, but the rich, musky scent of the two shapeshifters was more than her senses could take. She fell into Jonathan’s arms as Markham reached beneath her dress and ripped her panties off her. His fingers plunged into her soaked pussy as—
Gwen’s computer made a whooping noise, pulling her out of her writing the love scene as Morticia Addams’ voice announced, “Mail’s in.” She grinned and switched over to her mail program. That special alert meant e-mail had arrived from Tim.
Read it, loved it! Can I have your baby now, pleeeeease? Kissy-huggy! - TimE.
Gwen nearly snorted coffee through her nose while reading Tim’s e-mail.
That will teach me to drink and read.
She set her mug on her desk before typing her reply, all thoughts of writing the impending fuck-fest between horny wolf shifters Jonathan, Markham, and their main squeeze Shelaine driven from her mind.
I think I have the wrong parts to interest you, babycakes, but I’m glad you liked it.
Snugs and Hugs,
Go-Go.
She tapped
send
.
Gwen drained her coffee and turned to get up. Before she did, she stared at her table, where she’d left the five-pound box of travel and tourist brochures from the Rapid City area that had arrived in the mail the previous afternoon. She had to stand in line for twenty minutes with the claim note from her post office box, waiting behind a rather smelly guy who apparently never made the acquaintance of deodorant. Or soap.
Or a shower.
Amy’s been busy.
Not only had Amy included brochures, but a spiral notebook with page upon page of handwritten notes, dated and everything, with interesting tidbits and helpful information not included in the brochures. And two CDs of digital pics Amy had dumped off her camera onto her laptop and burned for her.
Amy hadn’t called her in the past few days, but Gwen didn’t worry. She was probably enjoying her “downtime,” if that’s what Amy insisted on calling it. At thirty-nine, Amy was the eldest of the three siblings and seven years older than Gwen, the baby. As sisters, they’d spent a lot of years not very close. Gwen and their brother, Liam, had always been super tight. Amy, not so much with either of them.
When Liam was diagnosed with MS five years earlier, it brought their whole family together.
Well, as much as their family could ever be together. Gwen’s relationship with their parents had been strained since her teenage years for a variety of reasons. Now Amy lived with their parents and Liam ten minutes away from Gwen, helping them out. Never married and no kids, Amy had volunteered to sell her house and move in with them after Liam got sick.
Gwen owned her house, courtesy of the divorce judge decreeing Dickweed had to hand it over to her as per their prenup because he cheated. It wasn’t uncommon for Amy to spend a night or weekend there with her when she needed to escape their parents, or for Liam to come over for an overnighter or day visit to hide from their mom.
Gwen didn’t mind pitching in and helping at their place, except when her father started in on her over her choice of ex-husband, the failure of her marriage despite it being Dickweed’s fault, her career writing “trash” books, and her failure to attend church on a regular basis like her “good” big sister. He constantly threw Amy up as the example Gwen should aspire to. Gwen didn’t blame Amy for that, but it had caused hard feelings in her for years, with only Liam there to understand and support her. Their mom always took their father’s side.
Self-preservation, she supposed. If she’d had to share a bed with David Oxford every night, she’d use every survival tactic she could latch on to, including alcoholism, if necessary.
Thank god for big brother.
Gwen was about to finally get up when another e-mail from Tim arrived.
I love you for your great head…eh, brain, Go-Go girl, so you absolutely have the right parts to interest me. ;) - TimE.
Laughing, Gwen shook her head and walked to the kitchen.
If only he wasn’t gay with a boyfriend. Lucky bastard. Why can’t I find a guy like that in real life?
Her cell phone rumbled out the attack theme from
Jaws
.
Eyeing the Jack Daniel’s bottle with longing, she answered the call. “What’s up, Dad?”
“Have you heard from your sister?”
“Technically. I just received a huge box of research material she shipped me from Rapid City. Why?”
“Your mother left three voice mail messages for her yesterday, and she hasn’t returned any of them.” Gwen hadn’t been over to her parents’ house in two days. Liam assured her he was fine and would call her if he needed her to come help or run interference for him with their parents. They’d had a blast last weekend at the book signing.
Gwen closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Yeah, no shit, she’s probably enjoying her peace and quiet.
“I’m sure she’s busy, Dad. She’s got meetings, too.”
“According to the agenda she left, her meetings ended three days ago. There’s no reason she should be busy.”
Gwen didn’t necessarily believe that, but didn’t want to rat Amy out. She opted to feign ignorance. “What?”
“Your mother has a question about one of Liam’s prescriptions, and we can’t get ahold of her.”
“Did you call her hotel?”
His tone took on indignation. “She lied about where she was staying. They have no record of Amy Oxford on their reservation records.”
That wasn’t Gwen’s first thought.
She probably lied about who she was staying with.
But the lack of a return call did worry her. “I’ll try her myself.”
“Well, if you get in touch with her, tell her that she’s got her mother worried, thank you very much. I would expect this kind of irresponsible behavior from
you
, not from her. Something must be wrong.”
“Dad, I’ll—”
He hung up, cutting her off.
She walked over to the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, a smaller one still half full from a Christmas party five months earlier. She uncapped it and dumped it into the sink. At this rate it was too tempting. She’d never been anything more than an occasional recreational drinker despite ample legitimate reasons over the years.
This latest blowup could really make her want to start.
She called Liam’s cell. He answered using a Humphrey Bogart voice. “How ya doin’, shweeheart?”
Gwen giggled. Her partner in crime. “Hey, bro. How’s it hanging?”
