Captivated By The She-Wolf. Kristal Hollis
break her heart in the long run.” Huffing, his mother moved into the kitchenette to wash the few dishes in the sink.
Bodie’s heart pinged. His own heart had been broken after falling in love with his college girlfriend. His mind’s eye had even created a reality in which they could’ve lived happily-ever-after, if he had been human.
But he wasn’t, and the Tlanuhwa were the monsters in fairy tales, not the princes and princesses. How many times had his mother told him that there were no true happy endings for their kind? Survival was all that mattered.
He yearned for something different for his daughter.
Maybe that was how the end began. One father breaking with tradition, hoping to give his daughter what he and her mother had been denied.
“Times have changed,” he said quietly. “The Tlanuhwa should, too.”
“Remember,” his mother warned. “That kind of thinking is what got your father killed.”
It wasn’t something Bodie would likely forget.
If he met his father’s fate, his mother and daughter would be all alone and without support. He hoped forging an alliance with the Co-op would ensure that his family would be looked after if anything should happen to him.
“Dad?”
“What, chickadee?” Turning toward Willow, he cleared all worries from his expression.
“Did you get the stuff I need from the craft store in Gainesville?”
“No, but I met Alex’s mom. She owns The Stitchery in Maico and she has everything you need. Enisi can take you after school tomorrow.” He glanced at his mother. “It’s off Sorghum Avenue.”
Bodie wished he could take Willow himself but by the time he got off, Ronni’s store would be closed. He would have to wait until Friday night to get up close and personal with her again. Until then, watching over her from his perch in her backyard would have to suffice.
“Boy or girl?” Ronni asked the pregnant woman walking into the store.
“I didn’t want to know.” Nel Buchanan’s unexpected visit was a bit of sunshine in Ronni’s gloom.
“I bet Gavin had a conniption, or did Doc tell him?”
“Nope. I pulled the HIPAA card. Doc can’t release any of my information without my explicit permission.”
“That’s an advantage of being human,” Ronni laughed. “A wolfan can’t keep a secret from the Alpha.” Something she’d learned when Gavin called about the situation with Jeb minutes after she had received the news and assured her that she had the pack’s support.
Ronni knew she would, but having the Walker’s Run Alpha tell her that personally had meant a lot.
“Which is why Tristan doesn’t know either.” Nel’s skin had a radiant glow, not just from the pregnancy; she was truly happy.
Ronni’s heart pinched. Tristan was lucky to have recently reclaimed his mate after she left him. Having lost her own mate, Ronni had sympathized with his pain. However, Tristan’s mate had returned to him and Ronni’s never could.
Still, that didn’t diminish her happiness that her friends had reunited. And everyone in the pack loved it when a new wolfling was on the way.
“He’s okay with not knowing?”
“Said he didn’t care. He only wants the baby to be healthy.” Rubbing her stomach, Nel walked up to the counter where Ronni stood. “No matter what, he’s going to spoil this little one rotten.”
“As well he should,” Ronni said. “How are the house plans coming?”
“That’s why I’m here.” Nel withdrew a folder from her flashy designer bag. Likely a gift from Tristan’s socialite mother. Nel’s personal style was more subdued.
“Meeting Suzannah today?”
“We had lunch.” Nel grinned. “She was not happy when I told her no one would find out the baby’s sex until delivery. I may not get any more highfalutin gifts.” Thank goodness, Nel mouthed.
“What are these?” Ronni picked up one of the papers Nel had laid on the counter.
“Rough sketches of the interior of the new house. We finally agreed on a floor plan. Tristan is meeting with his dad today to work out the construction plan. If all goes well, we’ll be able to move in by the end of January.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“It will be. I’m grateful Gavin is letting us live in one of the resort’s rental cabins, but I’m counting the days until we have our own place.”
“I know the feeling.” Ronni and Alex had temporarily lived in a resort cabin after the fire that destroyed their home.
Nel handed Ronni sketches of each room’s decor. The patterns and color choices were spot-on, but Ronni would expect no less from an artist whose future mother-in-law was an interior designer.
“I know your schedule is pretty full, but I’m hoping you can squeeze in an order for custom curtains, bedding and some accessories.”
“Of course,” Ronni said. “I’ll order the fabrics and call you when it comes in. Before I start cutting, I want to make sure it really is what you want.”
“Great! Here are all of the window measurements. Tristan promised he wouldn’t make any more changes.”
Ronni tucked all the papers into a manila folder.
“Grace, Cassie and I are having a spa day at the resort on Sunday. Would you please join us?”
Ronni nearly defaulted to her usual “thanks, but no thanks” response. Grace, Rafe’s mate, often tried to include Ronni in her girls-only outings. She had always declined because Grace and her friends were human, they were younger than her and Ronni wasn’t quite sure how she would fit into their group.
“Everything you do is either for Alex or the store. Once in a while, it’s okay to do something just for you. Besides.” Nel made an exaggerated pouty face. “It’s unlucky to make a pregnant woman sad.”
Ronni didn’t need any more bad luck. “What time?”
Surprise lit Nel’s face. “Ten o’clock. We do a leisurely brunch in the resort’s restaurant, then a full massage, followed by a manicure and pedicure which is a-mazing.”
“Sounds nice.” Ronni’s voice fell unintentionally flat.
“Don’t tell me you’re coming and then skip out,” Nel said. “It’ll hurt my feelings.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.” Nel slipped the straps to her bag onto her shoulder. “We’ll see you Sunday at ten.”
After Nel left, Ronni pulled the laptop from beneath the counter. As her nails clicked the keyboard, Ronni silently admitted it was time for a good manicure and decided she was actually looking forward to spa day.
By the time the chimes above the door jingled, Ronni realized she’d spent nearly two hours searching online fabric wholesalers for Nel’s project.
“Welcome to The Stitchery,” she greeted the newcomers, an older Native American woman and a teenager.
“You’re Alex’s mom, right?”
“Yes. You must be Willow.” The girl’s long, black straight hair fell midway down her back and her flawless skin was a shade lighter than her father’s.
The teenager’s eyes, a light brown with golden flecks just like her father’s,