I tried to keep my expression blank as I walked out of the diner, carefully holding the to-go bag. However, I couldn't suppress a snarl as I passed the plants to open the door. Stupid plants. It fueled my anger that the door opened and closed so easily. I felt an overwhelming urge to slam it shut.

I stomped to my truck as I remembered the smile on Red’s face as she laughed and joked with Alexander. Alex. Who the hell was Alex? Yeah, Sam had said he was Mrs. Greenhaven’s grandson. So that meant he was fae. They could beguile and charm like no other. And that prick was charming my Red.

I got in my truck and carefully shut the door. I didn’t want to break a window by closing the door too forcefully, and I was angry enough so there was no telling what destruction I could do. Shifters, as a general rule, were stronger than humans and other beings. Stronger than most fae even. The only fae stronger than shifters were trolls and ogres, but they were rarely in civilized places. Alexander wasn’t a troll or an ogre. If we came to blows, there would be no contest.

I flexed my hands on the steering wheel as I started my truck and carefully backed up. The task took my attention and forced me to focus. I didn’t want to hurt anyone with my vehicle and had to pay attention. Although, if Alexander had been standing behind me, anything could have happened. I might have accidentally hit the accelerator. Who knew?

Alex, she called him. I snarled again. And he brought her flowers. Pansies. What a sap. A smile crossed my face. Alexander had no idea what Red liked. He brought her pansies. She’d smiled and had acted all delighted, but I knew pansies weren’t her favorite flower. I narrowed my eyes. Perhaps I’d stop by the nursery and pick some snapdragons before I picked up Red tonight. I knew exactly what she liked, in more ways than one.

I drove carefully through town, paying attention to the lights and stop signs. The Fayoak Sheriff’s Office thrived on their ticket revenue. I knew a few of the officers, but not all of them. All it would take was a newbie to pull me over. If the officers knew you were a local, they usually let you slide with a warning. Usually. I didn’t feel like pouring money into the sheriff’s coffers, so I kept to the speed limit, despite how pissed off Abner, or whatever his name was, had made me.

I turned down a residential street and pulled into the driveway of my sister's cozy home. I grabbed the to-go bag before I got out of the cab, quickly closed the truck door, and walked up to the front door. The dark blue of the door reminded me of Red’s eyes; I loved that color. I gave a quick double knock and opened the door.

"Hello," I called out.

"In the kitchen," my sister's voice answered.

I turned right and walked into the kitchen. Hazel eyes the same color as mine lit up as Meghan smiled at me. The round oak table in her kitchen gleamed in the late-morning sun. The cheery colors of the quilted placemats caught my eye and I wondered briefly if Meghan had made them. I knew her pregnancy boredom had led to a lot of new and interesting hobbies. Her chair feet grunted on the tile as she pushed it back and started wiggling to get up to greet me. I rushed over to keep her from getting up.

"Stay put, Meg," I said in a firm tone.

"No, no, it’s good. I gotta get up and move," she said. "Besides, you know that bossy tone doesn’t work on me." She shot me a cheeky grin.

I recognized that stubborn tilt to her chin, despite her grin. I helped her stand up, rather than continue to argue with her. That would get me nowhere. Once she was on her feet, she pulled me down for a hug. I was careful not to squish her. When she released me, I reached out and rubbed her belly. I felt a kick as the newest member of the family greeted me.

"Every time I see you, your belly gets bigger. You have got to stop eating so much," I teased.

She’d actually lost a lot of weight during her first trimester and the doctor had been worried. The family was relieved that she had managed to gain it back and was in a healthy weight range now. Her mate had been practically feral. All shifters were over-protective of their mates, but we got worse when they were pregnant. My imagination conjured up a picture of what Red would look like pregnant, but I quickly stamped it out.

She wasn’t my mate and I would only have children with my mate. That meant any children she’d have would be with another guy. I bit back a snarl. The thought of her pregnant with another man’s child made me see red.

Meghan stuck her tongue out at me. "Beast. You know better than to tell a pregnant woman she’s fat."

I smiled, shoving back my thoughts about Red, and held up the to-go bag. "Brought you something from The Peach."

Her face lit up and she held her hands out. "That smells so good. Hand it over."

I gave her the bag and she tore into it, making happy noises. When I told Sam I wanted something for my sister, his face lit up and he smiled. I knew what she usually liked, but her pregnancy had made for some odd cravings. I figured Sam would have a good idea of the flavor of the week since she ate there frequently. Judging by my sister’s expression, Sam got it right.

She sat down after getting a fork from the drawer. I sat down next to her and watched, my amusement growing, as my refined and sophisticated little sister wolfed down the food as if she was afraid someone would take it away. Sam had outdone himself, as usual.

She scooped up one forkful after another of the migas: scrambled eggs mixed with bell peppers, jalapenos, cheese, and—the best part—chopped and fried corn tortillas. It was one of her favorite dishes. I seriously considered grabbing a fork and trying to steal a bite, but the expression on her face made me reconsider. She might do bodily harm to anyone who tried.

I took a deep breath, then quirked a brow up. "No onions?" "Nope. They disagree with me right now."

As I watched her eat as if she was starving, I wondered if I was wrong and she wasn’t eating enough. I studied her, but she didn’t look underweight. But what would I know? I gave myself a mental shake. I was being silly. I knew Joseph, and he loved her to distraction. If anything, he probably tried to feed her all the time.

"You doing okay?" I asked, worry gnawing at me, despite myself.

The tone of my voice must have alarmed her because Meghan stopped eating again for a moment, swallowed her bite, and looked at me with a serious expression.

"I’m fine," she said with a look of confusion. "Ready to have the little one. Why?"

Suddenly embarrassed, I rubbed the back of my neck. "I don’t know." I shrugged. "The way you were eating . . . as if you weren’t getting enough food. It made me worry."

A bright smile crossed her face and she shook her head, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Worrywart. You’re always looking after me. I’m fine."

She scooped up the last few bites of the food and sat back with a happy sigh. She started wiggling to get up and I sprang to my feet.

"What do you need?"

She smiled at me and stopped moving. "To put this in the trash." She waved her hands over her empty to-go container.

"I’ve got it." I swiped up everything before she could argue. It took only a moment, and the trash was cleared away, the fork in the dishwasher. I turned back to her and caught a flash of pain cross her face.

I was at her side immediately. "What is it?" The smile reappeared on her face. "What’s what?"

I saw the echo of pain in her eyes.

"Meghan," I said in a stern tone. "I saw that. Something hurt. What’s up?"

She started to smile but her face collapsed, her brows drew down and she bit her lip. It only lasted a moment. Her face relaxed and she looked at me again. This time I saw worry in her eyes.

"I don’t know," she whispered. I could hear the panic edge its way into her voice.

"The baby?" I asked, rubbing her arm.

She shrugged and looked to the side, not meeting my gaze.

"How long have you been having pain?"

She shook her head, finally meeting my eyes. "Not long. Only this morning."

"Did you tell Joseph?" As soon as I asked the question I knew the answer. If she’d told her husband she was having pain, he wouldn’t have left her side.

She shook her head. "It started a little bit ago. He’s at work, and I didn’t want to worry him."

"Meghan . . ." I pushed back my anger. My sister was scared and not thinking straight. I needed to get her help. I pulled out my phone.

"Who’re you calling?" she asked, worry in her tone.

"You need to get to the hospital. I’m calling for an ambulance."

She reached out and grabbed my hand before I could dial, her grip was strong and her nails dug into my skin.

"No. I don’t need an ambulance. I don’t need to go to the hospital." Her tone was firm.

"You’re being ridiculous. You need medical attention. You could be going into labor."

Meghan shook her head; her jaw took on that stubborn tilt. "No, call Sophie."

"Who’s Sophie?" The longer she delayed, the more worried I became. My sister was being stubborn, and needed help. But if I forced her, she wouldn’t cooperate and things could get worse.

"She’s my midwife. My phone is by the coffee pot. She’s in my contacts."

I rushed over to the counter and picked up her phone as I slid mine back into my pocket. I wondered why this was the first time I’ve heard of her midwife. I thought she was under the care of a doctor. I made it a point to have dinner with my parents and sister when I came into town, and no one had mentioned this Sophie before.

I found her number and hit call. It was answered on the second ring.

"Meghan, is everything okay?" a calm female voice answered.

"This is Meghan’s brother, Maddox. She’s having some pain," I said.

There was a moment of silence, then she said, "Is she in too much pain to talk?"

"No," I said as I glanced over at her.

"Can you please hand the phone to Meghan?" Her voice remained the same calm, soothing tone throughout. The type of tone that made a person want to do what she said without argument.

I handed the phone to my sister and listened as she answered the midwife. Thanks to shifter hearing, I heard both sides of the conversation. The most important part, though, was "I’ll be over in a few minutes. Stay calm. Breathe."

My sister hung up and put the phone on the table, a look of relief on her face.

"Gonna call Joseph now?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. He’s wrapping up everything so he can take time off when the little monster arrives." She rubbed her stomach affectionately. "If it’s something serious, I’ll let him know. But if I call before I know anything, he’ll freak."

"He’s going to be pissed." I knew I’d be pissed if my mate was in this situation. Whoever she was . . . if I ever found her.

She shook her head again. "We discussed this. Besides, you’re here. If something . . ." A grimace crossed her face, then she took a deep breath and continued, "If something is happening, you can help and rally the troops."

I scowled. My sister was being stupid. I reached into my pocket to pull out my phone and call my brother-in-law when there was a knock on the door. It immediately opened and the voice I recognized as Sophie called out, "Meghan, where are you?"

"Kitchen," Meghan replied with a look of relief.

A moment later, a tall, regal looking woman with striking features strode confidently into the kitchen. She nodded at me then immediately turned her attention to my sister. My jaw dropped with surprise. Sophie was a cat-shifter. There was no mistaking the scent. Why hadn’t my family told me? They knew I was hunting for a mate, and this female shifter was my sister’s midwife. Yet no one had said anything.

"Sophie," Megan said with a strained smile, "thank you so much for coming."

"Anytime." She smiled gently, then directed a questioning look at me. "Who's this?"

"Ah, right." Meghan held out her hands, one pointed at each of us. "Sophie, meet my brother, Maddox. Maddox, Sophie."

I nodded and held out my hand. She shook it. Her hand was warm and soft, her grip was strong and firm. She met my gaze and smiled, and I noticed how her face lit up when she smiled. She was beautiful. And yet, I didn’t feel a thing. Not a twinge of interest or stirring of excitement.

She nodded her head and turned her attention to Meghan. "Tell me what’s going on."

My thoughts distracted me and I missed some of the questions the midwife asked Meghan. I decided that was probably for the best and let Sophie’s calm, cool, and collected voice wash over me. I got the feeling nothing rattled her. She was a soothing influence on my sister, too. I saw the tension go out of her shoulders and she relaxed.

I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room to give my sister some privacy. I circled around the couch, running my hand along the back, the dark gray fibers smooth under my fingers. The burgundy pillows were indented, as if Meghan had been resting on the couch earlier. A rainbow-colored crocheted blanket was folded up on the side. Another project of hers, perhaps?

I sat in the chair by the couch, and when it swung backward I jumped to land several feet away, barely missing the wooden coffee table. I studied the seat suspiciously. I should have realized it was the rocker-glider Meghan got as one of her baby shower gifts. The dark wood contrasted sharply with the light gray fabric. I reached out and poked the padding on the arm, my finger sinking in.

Much sooner than I expected, Meghan called me back into the kitchen. I gave one more suspicious look at the chair before I left the room. When I walked in the kitchen, Sophie stood up.

"Thank you for making a house call," I said. I’d been surprised to hear she was coming over. I’d expected her to tell Meghan to come to the office.

"Not a problem. I share a practice with a couple other midwives. One of us is always available for house calls, especially when the little ones are about to come out into the world."

"So it was pure luck we got the shifter midwife to be here?" I teased.

She winked. "Of course. Actually, I like to be there for the shifter births in our practice. So even if I wasn’t on call, I would have been here."

She turned back to Meghan and said, "Don’t hesitate to call me if you feel anything odd. That’s why I gave you my number. Call right away, okay?"

Meghan nodded. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome," Sophie said. "I’m off. I’ll see you at your appointment in a couple days." She turned to me. "Nice to meet you, Maddox." Then she was out the door as fast as she arrived.

Meghan yawned, drawing my attention.

"So, you’re okay?" I asked, needing to be sure. I knew the midwife wouldn’t leave if she wasn’t, but I had tried to ignore the conversation they had.

She nodded. "Yeah. They call it false labor. Perfectly normal."

"Gonna call Joseph now or do I need to?"

She smiled. "I’ll call him, Mr. Mom. But I think I’m going to go lay down before I do. If I tell him I’m going to take a nap, he’ll wait to rush home until lunch." She held out a hand, inviting me to help her up. I took her hand and gently helped her to her feet. I worried she was going to topple over at any minute. Logically, I knew everything was perfectly normal, but she was my pregnant little sister. Plus, it looked like she was going to burst.

My sister escorted me to the front door and gave me a hug. "Rose told you about the neighborhood barbecue tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes," I said, wondering how she knew I’d talked to Red.

"Great, you gonna make it?"

"I wouldn’t miss it," I said.

She smiled and closed the door before I could ask her anything else. I walked to my truck and glanced at my watch. I still had several hours to kill before I picked up Red. I was full of energy, from the encounter with Alexander as well as the scare with my soon-to-be-born niece or nephew. Some hard physical labor would cure what ailed me.

I quickly made a couple of calls to put things in place for tonight, then drove a few miles to the edge of town and turned right. Out here the lots were sold in a minimum of one acre. On the left side of the road was all forest service land. Primarily pine trees, but some aspen and fir popped up here and there. Houses dotted the right side of the road. I turned on the third street and pulled into the fourth driveway. The dust from the unpaved road blew down the street after me.

I closed the truck door and studied the house. I knew there was minimal furniture inside and no electronics. No television, no stereo. No appliances. When I purchased the house years ago and renovated it, I decided my mate would want a say in those purchases. It reminded me of what you’d see in an open house. Or the sample house for a new development.

A blank slate for someone to start their new life. Appropriate, since that’s what it was. Frustration gnawed at me at the thought. I was ready to start my new life. I’d been searching so long for my mate. Sometimes I despaired of ever finding her. I sighed. The house was going to have to remain empty for now.

My family didn’t know about this house. Red didn’t know, either. Only the cleaning company I hired and Charlie, a handyman who checked on it regularly and did any necessary repairs, knew about this house.

I went around to the side and opened the gate to go to the toolshed in the backyard. Charlie had mentioned during our last call that one of the trellises needed repairs, which would be the perfect distraction.

I got out the tools and got to work. One task led to another, and I suddenly realized the shadows had gotten longer. I checked my watch. I had just enough time to run to my rented cabin and take a shower before getting Red. The last thing I wanted was to be late. I planned to give her an evening she wouldn’t forget. By the time I was done, she wouldn't remember the name Alexander.