Shelly Laurenston - Howl for It

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

“Um . . .” Darla toyed with the washcloth. “You aren’t going to tell my sisters, are you?”

“Why in heaven or hell would I ever talk about your virginity to your sisters?”

Disgusted she even had to say it, Darla rolled her eyes and admitted, “They make fun of me about it.”

“Why?”

“Because they always have. Since I was fifteen or so. Anyway, about three years ago, I finally lied and told them it was done with just so they’d stop talking about it.”

“But why did you tell me?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t care.” Darla turned around and sat down on Eggie’s leg. “I knew I could trust you not to make fun of me.”

“Don’t see why it’s a big deal. You’re only twenty.”

Darla cleared her throat. “Twenty-five.”

“Then that’s tragic.”

Darla punched his chest. “Eggie Ray!”

And, for the first time, she heard him . . . well . . . chuckle. Sort of. It was kind of a grunt-chuckle.

“Just kiddin’.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Won’t say a word to your sisters. They don’t speak to me anyway.”

Darla looked at him, frowned. “Why not?”

He shrugged those massive shoulders. “Don’t think they like me.”

“Why wouldn’t they like you? You’re so sweet.”

“You do know you’re the only human being who’s ever said that to me . . . except my mother and I’m not sure she counts.”

“Of course she counts and I’m always right. Once you understand that, you’ll be fine.” Besides, she’d straighten out her sisters later. If they were going to live here and be part of the Smith Pack, they had to accept all the brothers, including Eggie. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.

“Can we go to sleep now?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you really want to—”

“Are we still talking about that?”

“All right. All right. No need to get that tone.”

With his arm around her waist, Eggie hoisted her off his lap and onto the bed. “Under the covers,” he ordered.

Darla slipped under the covers and watched as Eggie followed behind her.

“Do you want to put up a wall between us so we don’t accidentally touch in the night?” she asked sweetly.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Giggling, she settled into the bed. Eggie turned off the lamp she’d forgotten she’d left on and relaxed into the bed.

“Night, Darla.”

“Night, Eggie.”

“And, Darla . . . ?”

“Hhmmh?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not being afraid of me.”

“Was I supposed to be?”

“Everybody else is.”

“ I am not everybody else, Egbert Ray Smith. You’d do well to remember that.”

He chuckled—again!—and said, “Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“Good. Then I think everything will be just fine.”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t irritate me, Eggie Ray.”

“You sure are easily irritated for a pacifist.”

“Quiet.”

“Yes’m.”

Eggie always knew as soon as someone was on his territory. Not only did he sense it, but the nearby animals told him. Then again, they often told him things he needed to know. When the weather was about to change, when danger was near, or when family was making their way to his house.

He hated waking Darla up, but he knew she wouldn’t want to be found cuddled up to his chest, one arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder.

Eggie doubted he’d slept any more than he would have if he’d just stood outside the entire night, but after an hour or so of just lying here, he’d begun to do something he rarely ever did . . . relax. True, he was still ready to kill at the slightest provocation if any outsiders showed up looking for Darla Mae, but the need to pace until he fell asleep on the floor or at his kitchen table was gone.

It was nice actually sleeping in his bed. He never had before.

A crow cawed from a tree outside his window, warning nearby crows about invaders while letting Eggie know that it was his brothers. He knew this because of the panicked sound that the crow made. Crows had surprisingly long memories and after being chased by those idiots more than once, the crows always sent out warnings when the Smith boys were nearby. Only Eggie got a pass, no matter how long he might be out of the country and, in exchange, he let the crows tag along on hunts. It worked out well.

“That must be your brothers,” Darla murmured, her breath hot against his skin. He knew he should have put a T-shirt on because that felt mighty nice.

“Didn’t know you were awake.”

“Just for a little while. I was so comfortable; I didn’t really want to move.”

Eggie understood that.

“Guess we better now,” he told her softly, his fingers itching to smooth her hair off her cheek. “Don’t need my brothers seeing you in my T-shirt. They’ll get all sorts of wrong ideas.”

Darla leaned her head back a bit so she could look into his face. “You embarrassed by me, Eggie Ray?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “Just figured you wouldn’t want to be found in bed with me. ”

“Why ever not?”

Before Eggie could answer, the bedroom door slammed open. Seemed excessive, though, since it had been halfway open anyway.

“You son of a bitch,” Janie Mae Lewis snarled as she stormed into the room with Darla’s three other sisters behind her. “You bastard, murdering son of a bitch!”

“Janie Mae!” Darla snapped, scrambling to her knees.

“Shut up, Darla Mae. Let me handle this.”

“Handle what? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ignoring Darla, Janie pointed at Eggie. “Taking advantage of my sister?”

“I did no such—”

“Was she even conscious when you had your dirty, disgusting way with her?”

Before Eggie even had a chance to be insulted by that—and he would have been insulted—Darla Mae roared out, “That is enough!”

The She-wolf took several breaths before she looked down at him. “Eggie, why don’t you go deal with your brothers downstairs. I need to talk to my sisters for a minute.”

If they weren’t all kin, Eggie would never leave Darla alone with a crazed She-wolf, especially a pregnant crazed She-wolf. But at the end of the day, they were all kin and it wasn’t Eggie’s place to get between them.

He slipped off the bed and walked out of his room and down the stairs. His brothers were just coming through the back door when he stepped into his kitchen.

He nodded at them. They nodded back.

It was a typical Smith boys’ morning greeting.

Once Eggie had gone downstairs, Darla faced her sisters. “What is your—”

Darla’s question was cut off when Janie suddenly grabbed her and hugged her tight.

“You poor, poor thing,” Janie said, her hands brushing down Darla’s hair. “Should we get you to a hospital?”

“Hospital?” Darla pulled away from her sister. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to lie to us, darlin’,” Francine soothed. “Or be ashamed. This was beyond your control.”

“What are y’all talking about?”

“Just tell us if he”—Roberta glanced back and forth between the others—“hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Why would Eggie hurt—”

Again cutting off her sister’s words, Janie yanked Darla back into her arms, pressing Darla’s head to her big chest and annoyingly patting the side of Darla’s head.

“Shhhh, darlin’. Shhhh. Everything is going to be all right. Let’s just get her out of here,” she said to the others. “We’ll deal with Egbert Ray Smith later.”