Between a Wolf and a Hard Place Page 2

  Ellie frowned at Laurel, hoping that the dream sex wouldn’t be the topic of conversation between the sisters from now until she mated the right wolf.

  Ellie wanted Brett to be the right one for her. He was fun, protective, funny, and endearing. It didn’t matter what he was working on as the local newspaper reporter. No matter how gritty or gruesome the day’s business was, he was always ready to let it go and concentrate solely on them when they got together. She kept telling herself she needed to tell him about her ability, but she couldn’t talk about it easily with someone who might not be receptive.

  How would he react if he learned she could commune with the dead?

  * * *

  Brett Silver hoped that the old piano wouldn’t break down once it was situated in the MacTire sisters’ inn. He was thrilled to be able to give his great-aunt’s treasured grand piano a home where visitors would enjoy it. His younger quadruplet brother, CJ, a deputy sheriff of Silver Town, had helped him polish it one last time before they moved it.

  “I think this is a great gesture and the perfect place for the piano,” CJ said, working on the instrument’s clawed feet. “Even if it stops working again, it fits in with their Victorian decor, and it’s a grand old piece.”

  “It’s been properly tuned, and Remer Cochran, the pianist and piano teacher, has tested it and made sure it’s working beautifully. Though, according to Ellie, neither she nor her sisters play any instruments. But if anyone wants to drop by and perform on it, he or she is welcome to do so.” Brett would love to hear someone play like Great-Aunt Matilda had when she was performing for the family.

  “I hear Eric, Sarandon, and the piano movers pulling up now.” CJ headed for Brett’s front door.

  The piano had been sitting in a corner of Brett’s living room where no one but a few friends and relatives saw it. Now it would be seen by all kinds of visitors to the inn. Brett felt really good about that, though he suspected he’d miss seeing the piano in his home. It was more than just a piece of furniture. The piano was a reflection of older times when the family would gather and sing songs at weddings, birthdays, and especially Christmas.

  Brett set aside the polish and cloth and greeted his brothers and the movers.

  Eric slapped CJ on the back. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of giving the piano to the sisters first, as much as you were trying to make an impression on Laurel.”

  “No need,” CJ said. “Laurel was already head over heels for me.”

  The brothers laughed.

  “At least Brett didn’t make the mistake of mispronouncing the MacTire sisters’ last name,” Eric said.

  “I learned to spell phonetically,” CJ said. “Tire should be pronounced ‘tire.’ Not like ‘tier.’ Besides, if you’d said hello to them first, you would have made the mistake instead.”

  Brett was glad he hadn’t.

  “As for the piano, it was Brett’s to give away. Frankly, since he’s always at my house and I don’t drop by his often, I never even gave it a thought,” CJ said.

  Brett watched as the movers covered the maple piano with blankets to protect it and carried it out to their truck. Snowflakes were beginning to fall, making the day feel magical. The Colorado autumn air was cold and crisp. In that instant, Brett had the greatest urge to pick up Ellie and go running with her as wolves. The movers came back for the piano bench. Once it was loaded, the brothers took two vehicles to lead the way.

  Brett drove, and CJ rode with him on the way to the inn. “Hey, are you having any more trouble with that artist?”

  “Which one?” Brett asked. Modeling nude for art students had been good money when he was in college, but since then, three women had periodically sent him prints of paintings they had done of him in the nude, asking if he was still as buff and could model again for them.

  He’d declined, but the women had been persistent.

  CJ chuckled. “You didn’t realize you’d become a modeling sensation for female art students. Did you go out with any of them?”

  “No. It was strictly a modeling job, though I had all kinds of offers.”

  CJ shook his head. “How are you making out with Ellie? You’ve been pretty quiet about it.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.” Though the truth was that Brett and Ellie hadn’t had that first kiss. Not for lack of wanting. Brett thought Ellie was hiding something from him, but no matter where he took the conversation, he hadn’t been able to learn what the problem was. He was afraid that was why they hadn’t had their first kiss.

  Not that he wasn’t imagining a whole lot more with her. He’d even talked to CJ about it. Not about her specifically, but about their cousins finding their mates through dream mating, and he’d asked if any of his brothers thought finding a mate that way would be possible for them.

  Brett really cared for Ellie, so he didn’t want to suddenly have a fantasy about another woman. All he wanted was to make some headway with her. He loved her Irish lilt and even heard it in his mind when he wasn’t with her. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

  CJ had been quiet until they reached the inn. “Have you told Ellie about your modeling experience? How the women are still hassling you to model for them?”

  “No. I won’t unless it looks like something will really come out of our relationship. Hell, everyone in the pack knows about the modeling. I’m sure she and her sisters heard about it sometime during the year they’ve been here.”

  “I wouldn’t rely on that. Best to mention it to Ellie before she learns about it on her own, if it looks like something more permanent might come out of the relationship.”

  Brett wondered how she would react. Would she be amused? Or annoyed?

  He really wasn’t ready to discuss it with her. How would it sound? Like he wanted her to know other women lusted after his body for the purpose of art, which they regularly sold? He wouldn’t have done anything differently. He had needed the money, and it was an easy way to earn it without neglecting his studies. He wasn’t an exhibitionist, but he loved art and hadn’t seen anything wrong with modeling. Wolves got naked in front of each other all the time, so it came naturally. It would have stayed in the past if the three artists—best friends who’d attended the same art class—hadn’t kept trying to get him to model further for them.

  When Brett and CJ arrived at the inn, they got out to help guide the piano movers. Laurel met CJ outside, giving him a big hug and kiss. Brett sighed. He’d love it if he and Ellie got to that point in their relationship—and soon. They’d both been busy lately, she with the inn and he with reporting about Victorian Day festivities. So he hadn’t seen her as much as he would have liked.

  As soon as they went inside, he saw Ellie showing the movers where she thought the piano should go, while Meghan insisted it should be more to the right of the stairs.

  Then Ellie caught his eye and smiled, and he felt his whole outlook brighten. She was the darkest-haired redhead of the bunch, her long, curly hair auburn in color, and to him, sexier and more mysterious. He wanted to ask her out tonight. He could cook, though he’d do better grilling outside.

  She turned her attention to the piano again, frowning. And Meghan was frowning too.

  Poor movers. Brett thought the two ladies would have the men relocate the piano all over the lobby before settling on the perfect place for it. Instead, Ellie suddenly looked pale and said it was fine where it was. Meghan quickly nodded, looking just as ashen.

  CJ and Eric readjusted the burgundy, brocade-covered bench in front of the piano, which made Brett remember he needed to box up all the sheet music and books and bring them over. He’d taken them out of the bench when he’d had its seat cushion reupholstered last year, and they were still sitting in a box in the spare bedroom.

  Brett paid the movers and they cleared out.

  “Got to get back to work,” Eric said, giving Brett a knowing l
ook. “Late shift working as a park ranger tonight.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got to get back to the business of sheriffing.” CJ smiled at Ellie. “Can you drop me off at the station, Eric?”

  “Sure thing,” their eldest brother said.

  Sarandon was admiring the piano, arms folded across his chest, when he realized his brothers were leaving and snapped out of his thoughts. “Yeah, I’ve got to get back to work too.”

  Brett knew Sarandon didn’t have a guide job in the park tonight, so he was glad Sarandon was vacating the premises pronto, taking his brothers’ cues. Now if only Ellie’s sisters would leave the two of them alone.

  Laurel took Meghan’s arm and hauled her toward the back door. “Let’s go fix supper, why don’t we?”

  “For two, three, or four of us?” Meghan asked with a smile in her voice as they disappeared outside.

  Brett didn’t hesitate before he moved toward Ellie, placed his hands on her shoulders, and leaned her gently against the piano, blocking her from escape if she thought to put on the brakes again. “Would you be up for dinner for two? You don’t have any guests for the next week, unless something has changed.” He rubbed his thumbs against her shoulders, loving the feel of her, the sweet, fresh fragrance of her. She looked beautiful in her soft teal sweater, rust-and-teal-plaid skirt, and high-heeled boots, her dark-red hair in silky curls around her shoulders.

  She was soft in his arms and appeared receptive when he leaned down to kiss her. It seemed like the perfect time. No one was around. The piano had been the perfect gift. Now it was time to kiss her like he’d wanted to since they’d first started dating. As soon as their mouths touched, she responded by wrapping her arms around his back, but then Eric felt her jump a little and pulled his mouth away, wondering if he was going too fast. If he’d done something wrong.

  She quickly moved against him, pushing him away from the piano, her heartbeat racing, her breathing unsteady, the color that had infused her cheeks instantly draining from her skin.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as Ellie moved him even farther from the piano. He thought maybe she had gotten static-electric shock from touching it.

  “Let’s go have dinner,” she said, her Irish accent more pronounced, as it was whenever she was overly worried. The sisters had been born in the United States, but their parents had been born in Ireland, and they’d picked up their parents’ accent. He loved it. “Any place is fine.”

  Yet she was visibly upset, and he wasn’t sure what the difficulty was.

  “Thanks for the piano. It’s beautiful.” Ellie glanced back at it, but not in an admiring way. She was looking off to the right of it, a frown marring her forehead, which he thought was odd.

  “Why don’t I take you to the Silver Town Tavern? They have great cuts of steak, and we can catch up on what’s been going on.”

  “I hear you’re working on some interesting stories.”

  “Yeah. My favorite? The last time the Silver Town Inn was part of the Victorian Days celebration. The idea seemed appropriate since this will be the first time the inn is open for business during the festivities since then.”

  “I can’t wait to read it.” Ellie glanced back at the vicinity of the piano one last time before she shut and locked the front door to the inn.

  “We can help you move the piano again if you don’t think it’s in the right place,” Brett offered, getting the car door for her.

  “Uh, no, I think it’s fine.” But she didn’t sound like she thought so.

  He was afraid he’d pushed her too fast on the kiss, yet she’d seemed so willing. He didn’t know what he had done wrong, but he had every intention of proving how much being with her meant to him, no matter what the difficulty might be.

  * * *

  Ellie couldn’t believe that not only had Chrissy shown up, looking interested in the piano, but so had some other woman. She was older, with white hair and dark eyes, and had appeared when Brett leaned Ellie against the piano and gave her the beginning of a spine-tingling kiss. It was so reminiscent of the start of the dreams she was having about him that Ellie could have screamed. Seeing the ghost shook her up and ruined the in-the-flesh fantasy with Brett.

  Ellie couldn’t help being shocked at seeing the other woman, who shook her head and tsked at her as if Ellie shouldn’t have been kissing Brett like that. He was so kissable too, his dark-brown sweater complementing his dark-brown hair and eyes, and his soft, blue-denim shirt and blue jeans covering hard muscles, the best combination a girl could ask for.

  But the woman’s tsking had ruined Ellie’s concentration, even if the woman was a ghost! And then there was Chrissy again, hands together held against her chest as if she wished she had been on the receiving or giving end of the kiss.

  Ellie hated that she’d ended the kiss after being startled, but she couldn’t concentrate on Brett while the older woman gave her the evil eye, punctuated by sounds of annoyance. Or with Chrissy eating the whole thing up.

  So who was the other woman? Ellie guessed she was the one woman who had loved that piano more than anyone else. Brett’s great-aunt Matilda.

  Chapter 2

  At the tavern, Ellie couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who had appeared near the piano. She listened to Brett talk about some of the stories he’d researched and written recently for the newspaper. She usually found these behind-the-scenes reports fascinating, but this time she was having a devil of a time concentrating.

  The tavern was filled with wolves having a meal in the wolf-members-only establishment. No one had to have a membership card to join; they just had to be a lupus garou.

  “Do you have a photo of your great-aunt Matilda?” Ellie suddenly asked, and Brett set his glass of wine down on the table. Her question had come totally out of the blue, and she wished she’d done a better job of leading into it. “I was thinking it would be nice to dedicate the piano to her and have a little memorial plaque with her picture on it on the wall behind the piano.”

  How was that for thinking quickly on her feet? Though she knew it was also the best way to commemorate the gift. She would have thought of doing it eventually.

  “I’m sure I can find a family photo of her. I’ll check. That would be nice.”

  Brett seemed to buy her story and appeared pleased. She sighed. Had their kissing brought the ghost to life? Disturbed her? Ever since Ellie had seen the woman, she’d wanted to call her sisters and warn them of the new ghostly trouble they might have. Unless the new ghost didn’t bother making any more appearances. How likely was that? From Ellie’s past experiences with ghosts attached to people or an object, not very likely.

  “How did you say she died?” Ellie realized she’d completely changed the subject again. Brett had said something about the weather and snow, and she had barely heard his comments until he frowned at her.

  He sat back a little in his chair this time and studied her. She really had to concentrate better on what he was saying. Brett would think she wasn’t interested in being with him. Which wasn’t the case at all. She just couldn’t stop thinking about the new ghost.

  “Sorry.” She took an oversize swig from her glass and nearly choked on the wine.

  “What’s wrong?” He reached across the table, taking hold of her hand and stroking it, which only fed into the way she would view him in tonight’s dream fantasy.

  Nothing was wrong, except that the piano had stirred up two ghosts in the inn. Ellie hoped the women didn’t get into a fight over territory. She’d never seen it happen before, but anything was possible when paranormal stuff was involved.

  “I was just thinking that we could mention a few details…for the memorial. The date of death and so on.”

  Brett released her hand and took another sip of his wine. “She was seventy-five in human years, and the doc we had at the time said she died of pneumonia. It simulates drowning; her lungs were f
illed with fluid.”

  What if Matilda had really drowned? What if she was staying around because she had been murdered?

  Then again, ghosts of people who had died of natural causes could still attach themselves to prized possessions or people. Any number of things could be ghost magnets, depending on the individual spirit. In one case in the nineteenth century, a man had built a home for his beloved wife, but when she died of sickness and his daughter died a couple of years later, he continued to live there. Upon his death, he remained there as if tied to his wife and daughter and that home. Forever. The historical home was a museum in Texas now, and many visitors had seen the man in his ghostly form.

  Ellie took a deep breath. Okay, no more thinking about ghosts. “So about the weather…” What had Brett said? “You said it’s going to snow?” She usually checked the weather every once in a while, but she’d been busy and hadn’t for a few days, though she had smelled snow in the air.

  He smiled and reached across the table, taking hold of her hand and squeezing. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoy being with you, Ellie. You’re just fun to be around. I’ve been really wrapped up in work lately, but I wanted you to know it’s not always like this. I know you’ve been really busy lately too. I hope you enjoy being with me as much as I enjoy being with you.”

  She smiled. If he only knew what she had been thinking about him in the privacy of her bedroom at night! “I love going out with you. I just…” The last time she’d told a guy she was dating that she was a ghost whisperer, he had stranded her at a hotel restaurant. He’d told her he had to go to the men’s room but skipped out on her instead, leaving the bill for her to pay! What an ass. Then she’d had to call a taxi to get home.

  Of course karma can be a bitch. When she remembered he was staying that night at the hotel where the restaurant was—figuring he’d get lucky, she suspected—she’d given his room number to the waiter, paid him a really generous tip, bought a round of drinks for everyone at the bar, and gotten the most expensive bottle of champagne she could to share with her sisters and celebrate. She smiled at the satisfaction she’d gotten from that.