Silver Moon (A Women of Wolf's Point Novel) (16 page)

Shelly’s eyes narrowed and a quiet growl filled the room. “Until I say that you get it and we can trust you to be less spontaneous. Understand?”

Erin caught Becca’s eye. She had an odd, hopeful look on her face and she was clearly waiting for agreement. Her expression puzzled Becca and she looked away, instead nodding in Shelly’s direction by way of agreement. What else could she do? It looked like she was going to really find out what it meant to be part of a Pack.

When the doorbell rang, Becca had already given up on reading the romance novel that she’d picked up from the library. It was interesting just how many werewolf-themed romances they had on the shelves down there. She had made a mental note to take a closer look or maybe a sniff or two at the librarian the next time she was in.

The chime distracted her from her current activity: she’d wandered down to the basement to check the windows. It had occurred to her that if she could crawl out one of them, she might be able to get out of her yard without Gladys seeing that she was sneaking out. From there, she was pretty sure that she could work her way down to the creek and gain maybe an hour or two of freedom. It was like being a spy, without the glamorous parts. It was also completely impossible: there was no way she was getting through that window.

The doorbell rang again and she climbed down off the stepladder and made her way upstairs, a polite grumble working its way out of her mouth as she opened the door. “Coming! Yes?” The last word popped out as she opened the door.

The perfectly coiffed and made-up blonde woman on her doorstep raised an eyebrow. One corner of her lipsticked mouth quirked in what might have been a smile or a grimace depending on how you wanted to read it. “Ms. Thornton? I don’t know if you remember me? Pamela Grisby, Ed’s attorney.” She held out a set of manicured claws.

“Let me revise my greeting to ‘What the hell do you want?’ ” Becca could feel the growl below the grumble now. It didn’t help that she wasn’t made up and was wearing her grubby old sweats and sneakers, all of which had seen better days. What made it worst of all was the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach; Ed was going to carry out his threat about the house after all. “And why are you on my porch? Don’t you have demonic minions to carry out your dirty work?”

“It was on my way home. I suppose being invited in is too much to ask?” Pamela pointedly looked around the porch, glancing from the chipping paint around the door down to Becca’s sweats and her lip curled a little. Becca didn’t move out of the way to let her inside, not even when she stepped forward. In fact, she could feel her own lip start to curl around imaginary fangs. At least she hoped they were still imaginary.

Pamela’s eyes narrowed and she extended the folder in her hand. “I expect you know what this is already. You’ve got thirty days to come up with financing to buy out my client. Otherwise, the two of you sell the house and divide the proceeds, just like you originally agreed to. Please bear in mind that he’s within his rights and is being more than reasonable.”

Becca glared at her, willing herself not to reach for the folder, willing herself to transform right then and there. She’d show Ed’s attorney that she wouldn’t be pushed around. How dare he try and take her home away?

But the growl faded and the wolf wouldn’t come when called this time. She’d known this could happen, after all. She just hadn’t planned hard enough for it.

Instead of changing, Becca could feel herself flush hot and sweaty under Pamela’s cold eyes.
Damnit, not now.
But there was no stopping the flash as it came on. Any more than she could stop Ed and Pamela by not taking the folder. Another moment of struggle and she gave up, defeated. She snatched the folder from the lawyer’s hands. “I notice he’s still got enough money to pay your fees. Or do you do his crap work pro bono?”

Pamela drew herself up and spun around on her spiked heels. She clicked deliberately across the porch and down the steps before she looked back. “If I were you,” she said sweetly, “I’d hope that I don’t suggest that he take all the necessary repairs out of your half of the sale money.” She clicked her way down the steps to her new sedan and screeched out of Becca’s driveway.

Becca watched her drive away, swearing quietly under her breath. The flash was passing now but it felt like there might be another one coming on in a few minutes. She walked over and collapsed onto the porch swing, using Pamela’s folder to fan herself as she sat down. It might as well be good for something.

Erin’s appearance at the bottom of her porch steps didn’t even begin to surprise her. Nor did the first words out of her mouth. “You okay? What was all that about?”

This was definitely the last straw. “You know, I’m thinking right now is not the time. Babysit me later when I’m feeling up to being polite.” Becca was ashamed of herself the minute the words were out of her mouth. It wasn’t like any of this was Erin’s fault. But she wanted to be alone to think everything over and if she had to get that by being rude, so be it.

Erin raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to one side. “Doesn’t work that way, Becca. Shelly says to watch you and make sure you don’t get into trouble, we watch you and that’s that. That looked like trouble but if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I’ll get one of the others to come over and check on you. But we’re here for you, like it or not.”

“Lucky, lucky me.” Becca was snarling and on her feet now, pacing the length of the porch like it was a cage. “Is there some point soon where you think all this ‘being here for me’ will turn out to do me some good? So far, I’m not seeing it.” She threw the folder across the porch at the swing, scattering its contents all over the floor.

They both watched the papers slide around for a minute, then Erin reached out and started picking them up, working her way on to the porch as she reached for them. “This is about your ex and the house, isn’t it?” She asked the question without looking up.

Becca nodded even though Erin wasn’t actually looking at her. She was making herself stare across the street and watch her other neighbors work in their yards and walk their dogs and come home from work. Just like normal people. Just like she used to be. But she was not going to burst into tears on her own front porch, no matter what. Well, her own for a bit longer, anyway. She waited for Erin to mention the emergency fund, say that the Pack could help her. Like she’d take any more charity.

Instead, Erin just picked up the folder and stuffed the forms back into it. She had her back to Becca but her shoulders looked stiff and angry even to Becca’s distracted glance. When she finally did look up, her face was completely shut down, with no expression at all to tell Becca what to do next. Erin put the folder on the swing and closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. Then she opened her eyes and met Becca’s hard gaze.

That was it. For a moment, they just stared at each other while Becca felt her stomach slowly revolve. What was she supposed to do now? It was like a challenge of some kind, but she didn’t understand how she was supposed to respond.

Everything that had happened in the last few months roiled up inside her and prepared to explode out of her mouth. It had all started just like this, on her porch with this woman, and maybe this was where it would end. Erin would walk away and they’d be stiff and awkward with each other until the Nesters took the whole Pack out.

Becca took one step forward, then another. The words were at her lips but she realized that she didn’t want the worst-case scenario to happen. Not this way, not now. There had to be a simple way to make all this right, to get it back to where things were before. She would look Erin right in the eye and say the right words to do that.

Instead, something clicked in her head. She wanted something new, Like she was watching from another dimension or something, she could feel herself reach out at wolf speed, faster than any woman of her vintage and condition should have been able to move. She caught Erin’s face between her hands. They froze there for a moment, just looking at each other.

Then Becca kissed her. The contact of their lips sent a jolt through her, running like a current from her lips to her toes. To Becca, it felt like she was waking up from a long sleep.

That was before the accompanying feeling of sheer terror swept through her in its wake.
What am I doing? What if Erin doesn’t want this?
True, Erin’s hands were resting very lightly on her hips, their touch reminding her of butterfly wings, but that didn’t mean she’d be okay when this stopped. That, of course, also begged the question: did she really want this or was it just the crazy emotions of the last few weeks twisting her around?

There was no way to find out except to see what happened when they stopped kissing. Becca made herself let go of Erin and step back, breaking off the kiss. This time, she shut her own eyes so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact. A cool shivery feeling was working its way from Erin’s fingers on her hips inward as she stood there, breathing Erin’s scent in through wolf-augmented senses.

There was a pause, then Erin let go of her and stepped back herself. They stood there a moment in silence. “Okay. Wow.” Erin sighed a little, then, “Becca? Are you okay?”

Becca forced her eyes open.
Stop being such a coward.
Erin looked concerned, nervous even, but not disgusted or anything like that. But even so, she was frozen to the spot and not a single word would come to her mind. Instead she made an incoherent noise and that broke the spell.

Her instincts took over, telling her to run for it. So she grabbed the folder from the swing and bolted into the house. The last vestige of her good manners made her mutter, “I’m sorry! I don’t know what I’m doing right now,” as she dashed past Erin and slammed the door.

Once safely inside, she collapsed against the door, holding the folder to her chest. It felt like her heart was pounding blood out through her ears. She realized how much she’d underestimated menopause; this was far, far worse than being a teenager. What was she going to do now?