Filed To Story: Secret Shifters Next Door Series PDF Free
together, covering her nude body back up with the coat. “Holy shit! I’m so sorry! Isn’t this Tate Mills’ house?” Her face was scarlet red with embarrassment.
I shook my head, and finally blinked and averted my eyes. “Uh…no. He lives next door.” I pointed a finger across the street.
Almost like he sensed me pointing at his house, I watched as Tate’s truck turned into the neighborhood. The timing was impeccable. In the light of the moon I saw Tate’s face through the driver’s side window. He was gaping at us with a look of surprise and irritation. He didn’t even bother pulling into his driveway, but simply came to a stop beside his mailbox, got out and started striding toward me and the strange young exhibitionist on my porch. Having Tate walking toward my house like that sent a nervous tickle through my stomach. Things hadn’t been great between us and a two in the morning show down was not on my list of relaxing activities.
If Tate was angry, he wasn’t directing it toward me. Instead of glaring at my face, he was staring daggers at the woman On my porch. Strange.
“Tate, baby, I thought you’d never come home,” the girl purred. She acted so familiar and sexual that I had a hard time not thinking they’d been intimate in the past. “I…uh…Thought you’d like a little welcome home present. I got the wrong house, though.”
I was outside, standing beside the woman now. Tate didn’t answer her, but instead, he continued up the walkway and mounted the porch steps. One of his hands gently slid around my waist. It was surprising how tender he was as he moved me aside. I went without question, stepping into the shadow beyond the light of the porch bulb. His gentleness was even more surprising when I heard what came out of his mouth next.
“What are you doing here, Britt? How did you even find my house?”
The woman smiled and tilted her head. “If there’s something I want, I don’t stop until I get it. Let’s go next door and talk about it. Let this lady get some sleep?”
Standing there watching this play out made me more uncomfortable than I’d ever been in my life. The girl was obviously hot for Tate. Tate however seemed beyond irritated and confused by her presence. Maybe they didn’t have a history? Was this woman making some desperate attempt to get a guy she couldn’t have? She was beautiful, so I wasn’t sure why she was going to so much trouble to get with a small town guy. Even one as gorgeous as Tate. Despite myself a little twinge of jealousy burbled up in my chest.
Tate’s face twisted into a mask of irritation. I would have tried to slip back into my house, but Tate was almost blocking the door with his muscular bulk. I was forced to stay.
“Britt, I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t do things like this. I do not mix business with pleasure. No means no. Then you pull shit like this?” He said, gesturing toward her and my house. His voice was calm and quiet but there was an undercurrent of cold finality that sent a chill through me. I could only imagine what it did to the poor girl standing there.
Almost as though he had read my thoughts, he turned his eyes to me. “I’m sorry about this. The girls didn’t get woken up did they?” he asked in a, blessedly, much kinder tone.
I swallowed hard, and said, “No. I don’t think so. I was awake reading when she…umm, knocked.”
He spun on his heel and glared at the woman again. She’d finally realized how ridiculous she must look in the oversized
coat. She fumbled with the tie and sinched it tight around her waist and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Britt, if I ever see you here again, I’ll call your manager,
and I’ll leak to the press that you’re batshit crazy and a stalker. We’ll see how many albums you sell after that shit hits the fan. You got it?”
That was when I realized where I recognized her from. I’d seen her face every day for the past two years. Except, it was usually made up in garish makeup with an over-the-top hairstyle. She was on the poster above Jordyn’s bed. The girlwhose freaking nipples I’d seen five minutes agowas Brittany Leigh. Her stage name was BrittLeigh, and she was Jordyn’s favorite pop star. There was
no way
in hell I would ever tell my youngest daughter about this. I was actually fairly surprised she would go to such lengths to try to get into Tate’s pants. She was a sex symbol all over the world. Men from Los Angeles to Tokyo would probably cut off their left nut to get a chance to roll in bed with her, and Tate was tossing her out on her rear like it was nothing.
Britt took a hesitant step toward him. “Tate, I just wanted to have fun with you. I tried for months. I’m sorry, please calm down and don’t be mad.”
By the look of exhausted exasperation that settled over his face, Tate was over the whole situation. “I won’t say it again. You’ve got to leave. Now.”
She didn’t bother arguing anymore. Instead, with tears in her eyes, she ran off the porch. She stumbled, but caught herself before climbing into the car and slamming the door behind her. I was still standing on the top step of my porch. Without any idea what to do next, I inched my way toward the door.
Tate glanced over and stopped me. “Don’t leave yet.” He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Are you guys okay?”
So far, I’d known two sides to Tate. A guy hot enough and charming enough to get me to throw caution to the wind for a one-night stand, and a paranoid, irate, and angry neighbor. But this side of him was different. There was concern in his voice. I could tell that he really did care whether we were fine.
Before I could answer, he added, “My life shouldn’t touch you or your girls. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
His words bothered me. I didn’t want to be totally shut out. At best, we would be neighbors, and it would be nice to have a cordial relationship. At worst? He was the father of my unborn baby, and… well. Making sure my feelings weren’t written all over my face, I took another small step toward my front door.
“Thanks for handling all that,” I said before turning and stepping into my house. I shut the door, but glanced up right before it closed. Tate’s eyes were locked on mine.
The next morning, Tate’s truck was gone. Which was strange since he’d gotten home so late, and I’d woken up around six-thirty. Had he even slept before leaving again? I doubted I would get an answer to that. I had no clue how long he’d be gone. Not with the type of work he did. Each day, I’d look out the window and rub my belly absently. I was three months pregnant and still not showing. What would I tell Tate when it became obvious I was pregnant?
FIVE
TATE
I felt
like shit. I’d been away from home for about two weeks, ever since that ridiculous performance Britt put on at Harley’s house. I’d been so embarrassed by her behavior that I’d headed out without sleep, just dropped my dirty clothes in the hamper, and packed fresh, then I was out the door. It was good to leave again, but now? I was miserable.
It had started a couple of days after I arrived in Toronto to do security for a hedge-fund guy. What started as a melancholy sort of depression had morphed into an ache that wouldn’t quit. The only thing I could associate it with was homesickness, which I’d never had before in my life, not even as a kidthere had maybe been a little of that when I got kicked out of my pack.
All I did was think about going home and being back in Lilly Valley. It got to a point where I was struggling to concentrate on the job. The Fourth of July weekend started in a few days, and that also had me on edge. Back home, the little town of five thousand would balloon up closer to ten thousand. Tons of people came to swim in the lakes and rivers, go hiking and camping—all the fun outdoorsy stuff. That also meant a ton of new and strange faces in town. The fact that hunters may