“So you don’t believe in ghosts?” Ellie thought from the way he talked that he did.
“Nah. Bunch of hogwash. If someone believes in it enough, I suppose they can imagine just about anything. And here we are, getting paid to move the piano back where we got it in the first place.” He paused and looked at Ellie. “So, is the owner upset about you returning it? I hate having to deal with any issues with the previous owner. We just move pianos from one place to another. Don’t want no drama at all.”
“No. He called to have you move it back. We’re married, so no problem with moving it.” Ellie smiled.
“Congratulations. And good. Some guy nearly drove us off the road yesterday. Just don’t need any more issues this week. He swore the old car was haunted. See what I mean? People will say anything. Luckily, he gave me a hundred dollars for my trouble even though I didn’t have any damage. He was desperate to give me the money though. Never seen anything like it. Didn’t smell liquor on his breath, or nothing.”
“Vintage Plymouth?”
“Yeah.” The mover raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you seen the car?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not the dead people you got to worry about.” The mover helped the other men lift the piano. “It’s the living that are scary.”
Ellie couldn’t agree more.
* * *
Ellie called Brett, telling him that the movers were on their way with the piano. Her sisters were staying at the inn. “We need to talk about the wedding.” She figured it was a foregone conclusion. Not if, but when.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Brett said.
And he sounded enthusiastic. She loved that he’d been thinking about it when she hadn’t given it a thought.
“What if we have it at my great-aunt’s old home? Where the picnic benches are. We could move the benches and have the wedding with the pack gathered around in the woods. A winter wedding,” Brett asked.
“Victorian clothes. That sounds great to me.” It was still Victorian Days after all.
“Okay, that works for me. Uh, will you be wearing tons of petticoats and the corset and all?”
“Yep. You’re just going to have to learn how to undress me faster. No scissors involved. What if we move the piano out there to play the wedding songs?” she asked.
“The movers will think we’re crazy, and I’m not sure about the weather as far as the piano goes.”
“What if the piano is played for a joyous occasion one last time where her home used to be? And that makes her happy?” Ellie hoped he would agree then. What if it did?
“We’ll do it. Whatever it takes. When do you want to do it?”
“When the weather is clear. We’ll have to plan it around that. I’ll check the ten-day forecast, and you can tell the movers you’ll need them to move it twice more. Once to the memorial site, and back again to our home.”
“I’m sure they’ll be happy to get the money. We should have just left it at your house.”
“Then Meghan might not be able to get any sleep. And it’s already on its way there.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.”
“Who will play the songs at the wedding?” she asked.
“Remer or Mervin. Both were her students. I’m sure if she’s still hanging around the piano when we have it moved out there, she’ll be pleased.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in a little bit.”
When Ellie arrived at the house, the movers had already left. Brett pulled her into his arms and gave her a warm embrace. “We still need to move the rest of your things, but whatever you want changed at the house, please go ahead and do it.”
She looked at the collection of rocks sitting on a couple of shelves in the living room and smiled. “I see all your magic rocks. They’re beautiful.”
He lifted a topaz crystal. “This is the one that Eric found for me. He found a yellow diamond for CJ.”
“Wow.”
“We didn’t know it was a diamond at the time. I thought my clear crystal was prettier.”
“It’s beautiful.” She ran her fingers over an amethyst stone and turquoise. “They’re all beautiful.”
“Which do you like the best?”
She shook her head, unable to decide.
He took her into his arms again and kissed her forehead. “So what gown are you going to wear for the wedding? Daring red? Pretty blue?”
“Winter white. A faux fur muff, a white wool cape trimmed in faux fur. I think it’ll be pretty.”
“You’ll be beautiful. What about the bridesmaids? The groomsmen?”
“What was your great-aunt’s favorite color?”
“She wore a lot of green. Forest green. I remember because I said something about it to her. She told me she loved the forests and her gardens, and wearing green made her feel at home in them.”
Ellie nodded. “I’ll check with the shop that sells and rents Victorian clothing and costumes for other events to see if they have what we need, or we can change the color scheme. I was wondering if you made any other changes concerning the piano that would have made a difference in it coming to life.”
“I had it refinished. And I had the bench recovered. I also had to have it repaired so that it would work properly. Remer played it and made sure it was perfect.”
“Remer. Did you hear or see anything unusual after you made the changes when the piano was still at your house?”
“No. I didn’t see her when I kissed you either. Remember? I thought I was going too fast for you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Not fast enough, it seems.”
They had to make wedding plans. She had to unpack her bags. But nothing seemed as important as hauling her mate back to bed.
* * *
The wedding was held two days later, in short order, mostly because Matilda played nearly nonstop. Just anything and everything. They didn’t know if she was happy they were mated and joyfully playing, or annoyed they’d brought her back here, or what. She’d even howled once in the living room after they’d cried out in pleasure in the bedroom! They had to do something about it. And fast!
One of the local carpenters had built a beautiful cabinet for their living room where they had hung Matilda’s gown and parasol near the piano, with the memorial right next to it. And on top of that, they had set their first hand-carved wolves. They’d already had a ton of requests for them, but the first were in loving memory of Great-Aunt Matilda. They had cropped a print of the old photo so that only she, Benjamin, and her sister were in the shot. Even so, Matilda hadn’t seemed to want to leave.
Ellie and Brett had begun working on a brown, rust, and beige macramé hanging to go on their living room wall and were having a ball working on the craft together. With someone to work with, Ellie had no trouble sticking to lessons and instructions. But the most fun project they’d been working on lately was clay pottery. Though after watching Ghost with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze and being caught up in the sexy moment where he was sitting with her between his legs, shirtless, the pottery wheel spinning, his hands sliding over hers as she was trying to mold her vase… Well, Ellie and Brett hadn’t quite finished their piece yet either.
Today she was getting ready for the wedding, and she couldn’t wait.
“Omigod, Ellie, did you see the paper?” Meghan opened the newspaper and showed it to her while Laurel finished adding pearls to Ellie’s hair. “A full-page photo of the two of you dancing at the ball, your lips locked in a sizzling kiss, declaring your love.” Meghan handed her the paper.
Ellie couldn’t believe it. She smiled. Brett didn’t do anything small.
“Come on, ladies,” Laurel urged. She and Meghan helped Ellie climb in the car, handing her the train to hold in her lap.
“We don’t want to be late for the wedding. But, boy, CJ couldn’t believ
e that announcement. Their cousin Jake took the photograph. CJ said it was a way to ensure that everyone in the pack knew you two were a couple,” Laurel said.
Meghan laughed. “As if anyone could be clueless about that.”
“You are so beautiful,” Laurel said to Ellie as she drove them to the memorial site.
“So are the both of you.” They were wearing forest-green velvet gowns and wool cloaks of the same color.
It was a sunny day, thankfully. The snow had mostly melted, but it was still chilly. Perfect for a Victorian wedding. Ellie had learned that no one had ever had a wedding during Victorian Days before, so that made this year’s extra special.
When they arrived at the site, Ellie smiled to see the whole pack gathered, almost everyone in Victorian dress, except a handful who showed up in their wolf coats to honor that part of their heritage. The gazebo and pillars were covered in roses. It was the most gorgeous sight she’d ever seen. Jake was busy taking pictures of her, while Brett’s oldest brother walked her toward the gazebo to give her away to the groom, the handsome wolf waiting to marry her.
Remer was playing the piano nearby, smiling.
She joined Brett, and they said their vows and kissed. Ellie had been so wrapped up in the ceremony that she hadn’t even given Matilda a thought until she saw her standing near the gazebo tending the roses. She smiled at Ellie and Brett, whose attention had been on Ellie until he realized something had diverted her and he’d looked in the direction she was staring.
Wearing her favorite dress and matching the bridal party, her parasol hooked over her arm, Matilda nodded, then walked off, but before she faded into the woods, she morphed into the wolf and vanished.
“She is home,” Ellie whispered to Brett.
“She is.”
They couldn’t be sure until the movers returned the piano to their home one last time. As soon as they arrived home to wait for the piano delivery, they noticed that in the spot on the floor where the piano normally sat, a big, white faux-fur bear rug had taken its place, the card on it signed: With all our love, Laurel, Meghan, and Aunt Charity.
Ellie laughed. And she swore Brett almost looked embarrassed, his ears tinging a little red. She loved it. It would be perfect in their bedroom. But then he seemed to recover and smiled. “I know just who will be my model lying on that fur rug.”
Then her face warmed with embarrassment. “Only for you.”
That night, as Brett and Ellie made love, the piano was silent, and Ellie knew Matilda was truly home.
Just like she was with Brett here, making her fantasy dreams come true.
“You are so beautiful,” Brett said, “better than any dream.”
“Ditto, wolf of mine. This was where we were meant to be.”
For more Terry Spear
check out the SEAL Wolf series
SEAL Wolf Undercover
On sale August 2017
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Coming soon from Terry Spear
and Sourcebooks Casablanca
Prologue
Six months ago
San Diego, California
Former SEAL and current PI Vaughn Greystoke leaned back on his barstool in the Kitty Cat Club in San Diego, smelling cats everywhere. He wasn’t sure what to make of the packed place. His twin brother, Brock, slapped him on the back. “Drink up. You’re way behind.”
Douglas Wendish, a friend from their wolf pack in Colorado, was dancing again with his date. Vaughn’s date was more for show, and Brock looked a bit too tipsy to do anything more than sit and stare into space. Around them in the jungle-themed club, rock walls covered in moss, genuine potted palms and ferns, and vines crisscrossing the ceiling created the illusion they really were in the Amazon rain forest. Women in skimpy leopard-skin bikinis and men in leopard-skin loin clothes were grinding on elevated platforms. The chirping of crickets, the calls from the macaws, and the sound of water rushing over rocks played in the background, while the music offered a riveting South American jungle beat.
Lots of gyrating females were twisting around on the floor, but only one really caught Vaughn’s eye. She was a dark-haired beauty wearing a tight, black skirt split up the side that showed off shapely legs, a pair of sparkly sandals that exposed red-hot toenails, and a low-cut blouse of leopard print that revealed a nice swell of breasts. Unfortunately, she seemed to be taken already.
Vaughn watched her dance with the redheaded guy—sensuously, but not like they needed a room. The way she moved her body made Vaughn feel like he needed a room. With her. Observing her, he was swept up in the jungle heat, the warm bodies, the cold beer, the infectious laughter, and her hot moves. Then the redhead she was with leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, tilted her chin up, and kissed him back. In that instant, Vaughn wanted more than anything to be on the receiving and giving end.
“Hot,” Brock said. “Wonder if she smells like she’s got a ton of cats at home too.”
Fine with him. As long as he had her.
“Have another beer,” Brock said. “That might cool you off.”
The only way Vaughn would cool off was by taking an ice-cold shower.
A woman—who smelled overwhelmingly of cats—asked him to dance, and so he did, if only to get his mind off the brunette.
“I’m Kira. You must be new here,” the blond purred next to his cheek, her body pressing closer to him than he really wanted.
“Name’s Vaughn. Does it show that I’m new here?”
“Colorado license plates,” she said.
He smiled. Here he thought she had heard an accent, though he didn’t believe he really had one. “So you live around here?” he asked out of politeness.
“Yeah, nearby. You pulled up when we did. I always notice out-of-state license plates.”
She sounded like a private investigator or a cop. “Own a lot of cats?”
She smiled in a wicked way. “Love them.” She didn’t say that she owned any, though. “What about you? Own a lot of dogs?”
He smiled back. Wouldn’t she be surprised if she knew he was all wolf? “Dogs are man’s best friend.”
“So I’ve been told. Are you going to be around for a few days? Return to the club?”
“Not sure. Do you hang out here all the time?”
“Every chance I can get.” Kira glanced at his table. She must have been wondering about his date. “She looks bored.”
“She doesn’t care to dance.”
Vaughn danced with a few more cat women who didn’t seem to mind that he smelled like a dog. Afterward, he took his seat at his table. Douglas returned with his date, but Vaughn had already forgotten her name.
No wait, Wendy. If Douglas mated her, she’d be Wendy Wendish.
Douglas pulled out his camera and began taking pictures. Again.
“Hey, see someone I know. Be back in a minute.” Douglas took off and started talking to some guy, probably about boating, as much as he loved to boat. Vaughn, Brock, and Douglas were all going out on the water tomorrow. One of these times, Vaughn was going to convince Douglas to take a plunge and show him how much fun swimming as a human could be.
Vaughn watched the brunette laughing at something the redhead said at their table. She turned her head in Vaughn’s direction, as if she realized someone was watching her. He hadn’t meant to be staring at her, but everything about her appealed, and he just couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He smiled. She smiled. In that instant, he felt they’d made a connection, as lame as that was. When she left the club tonight, she was going home with the muscular guy who had his arm wrapped around her like he was afraid he’d lose her. From what Vaughn could tell, she hadn’t once shown any interest in anyone else but her date. Oh sure, when she was seated at her table and sipping her drink, she watched other dancers, but she wasn’t focusing on any
one person. Not like he was focusing on her.
Her gaze caught his again, and he couldn’t help but smile. Not that her checking him out meant anything. But he sure could fantasize.
* * *
Formerly an army intelligence officer and now a PI, Jillian Matthews had agreed to go out with her brother Miles’s friend as a favor, but man, did the guy have octopus arms. Oh sure, he was fun, but he was way more interested than she was. The guy several tables over? Now he got her attention. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was all wolf, though some human males showed the same wolfish interest in a woman, even if she was with someone else. She’d never consider dumping a guy on a date when he was being nice, especially when it was to pay her brother back for his help in solving one of her cases. But she’d made it clear it was only one date, reserving the right to change her mind.
Everything about the club was a blast—the music, drinks, dancers, and atmosphere—yet it was the man at the other table who truly stole her attention. He had dark hair, chiseled features, tanned biceps. He was muscular, but not muscle-bound, and had a darkly intriguing smile that made her melt.
“Would you like to come back here tomorrow night?” Miles asked.
She smiled at her brother. She’d love to, if that other guy was going to be here.
“Sure,” she said, secretly wishing she could meet tall, dark, and intriguing. Maybe he would ask her to dance, or she’d ask him. The guy’s date looked bored, and Jillian hadn’t seen him dance until other women began asking him. As soon as the blond did, it was like a signal to other single women that he was available. If Jillian had been on her own, she would have asked him to dance too. She’d help him move that gorgeous body right up close and personal. Her own date wasn’t interested in dancing with anyone else, so she curbed the inclination. She could envision hanging on to the guy too, if he still piqued her interest and didn’t allow any other woman to take a turn with him.