The Reindeer's Mother's Day Mistake Read online

  The Reindeer’s Mother’s Day Mistake

  E A Price

  Copyright ©2018 by Elizabeth Ann Price

  All rights reserved. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No reindeer were hurt in the making of this novella – except for those who were clawed by the cat, Fifi. Fifi takes no prisoners.

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  One

  “You’re wearing that?” murmured Marla in disapproval.

  Maris peered at herself in the mirror, frowning slightly. “Why not?”

  It was her best dress. The usual tag price was obnoxiously high, but her dress had been an absolute steal from a thrift store. It hung perfectly on her lithe frame and made her feel both comfortable and sexy.

  Marla gave her a look of disbelief. “It’s second hand. You have no idea how many other people wore that dress before you. Do you really want the rest of the herd to know that you are forced to shop at a thrift store?”

  Maris’ frown deepened. “I would hardly say forced, and I don’t see how they will be able to tell.”

  “Humph. They’ll know, and stop frowning so much,” she said, frowning herself. “Do you want lines on your forehead?”

  “I’m sure I don’t care,” said Maris in amusement.

  “You’ll never get another modeling job if your forehead looks like a walnut – you’re up for that new moisturizer.”

  “I’m up against two hundred other women,” said Maris dismissively.

  Her mom tweaked her earlobe and smiled proudly. “None of whom can hold a candle to my little girl.”

  Maris smiled weakly. She didn’t like to admit it, but she knew she wasn’t getting that job. A younger girl was getting it – yep, Maris was only nineteen, and she was already starting to get too old. “I don’t think I want my face advertising that stuff. It’s supposed to be made of monkey placenta. It’s cruel and gross.”

  Marla humphed. “That was never proved.” She ran her fingers over Maris’ forehead and her imaginary lines.

  Maris rolled her eyes. She was nineteen, her skin was fine, and if she got lines on her face, well, she’d just get bangs.

  Marla gave her a doubtful look. “Can’t you wear the playsuit I bought you?”

  “It barely covers my ass.”

  “It shows off your figure perfectly. You have a gorgeous figure, and a perfect face – you’re by far the most beautiful female in the herd.”

  Marla gave her an adoring look and Maris sighed inwardly. “I do like the playsuit, it just…” is skimpier than most underwear. “But don’t you think it’s a little risqué for a Mothers’ Day barbecue? I mean, there’ll be kids there.”

  Plus, older perverted herd members. Both Maris and her mother were reindeer shifters and members of the Connors herd. They had been ever since Marla mated with a male called George six years ago. He was older and dour, and Maris never thought her vivacious mother would be able to stick with him, but here they were six years later and still a family. Perhaps in spite of George’s foibles, her mother considered it worth it to be in the herd.

  Maris and her mother had been looking for a herd to join for years. Being part of a herd was perhaps a difficult thing for non-shifters to grasp, but even though they spent most of their time as human, there was still an instinctual need to be around other shifters, to stick together. Not that it necessarily stopped reindeers from leaving the herd.

  Their herd was large and prosperous, though both Marla and Maris were two of the few reindeer not employed by the herd. Maris suspected the other herd members preferred it that way. They had been there for six years, and yet many still viewed them as interlopers and definitely considered her mother to be a gold-digging hussy.

  Marla was a model and commercial actress. She wasn’t good at acting, or really interested in it, but she could certainly make face cream look appealing on TV.

  Maris was currently a part-time pretzel vendor and somewhat reluctant model. She didn’t mind modeling very much; it was just a little boring. Not that selling pretzels was much better. But she’d been modeling since she was old enough to be signed up to an agency – which was six months old. There wasn’t a campaign or a commercial her mom hadn’t pushed her to try out for. By the time she was eighteen, she’d modeled for everything from baby wipes to acne cream. Sadly, by that time she’d missed so much school and knew so little that she barely graduated, and college was not an option for her. So, she was still going with the modeling but had picked up a part-time job to keep her ticking over.

  Marla humphed. “Our herd mates wouldn’t know fashion if it bit them in their furry behinds.”

  “I’m sticking with the dress,” said Maris.

  “Do you really think Branch or Harlan will look twice at you in that?”

  Maris furrowed her brow – earning herself another squawk about crease lines.

  “Why do I want them to look twice at me?”

  Branch and Harlan were the sons of the herd alpha. Branch would one day be alpha.

  “You’re the most beautiful female in the herd – you can mate high up, you shouldn’t settle for less.”

  Maris sighed. Her mother had mentioned this before, and Maris had done her best to ignore her. Rank was important to her mother – always had been, but it wasn’t important to Maris. In fact, her mother had been mentioning it since Maris turned sixteen, and she had been ignoring her since then too.

  “I don’t want either Harlan or Branch.”

  “Nonsense, every girl in the herd wants either Branch or Harlan.”

  Maris didn’t want either. Branch was too dour and Harlan too smug for her taste. Neither suited her, but for the last few years, her mother had started trying to impress the need to mate one of them. Something about having lots of money and power, blah, blah, blah. Maris couldn’t stand the thought of waking up to either of them every morning.

  Marla took Maris’ face in her hands. “Darling, I just want the best for you. You’re a princess, and you deserve to be treated like a princess. I can’t bear to think of you ever having to struggle again…”

  Her mom looked almost tearful, and unlike her fake tears – these were definitely real. Her mom had only used her fake tears on landlords who wanted to throw them out on the street or when they were short of money at the grocery store.

  “I’ll… think about it,” said Maris reluctantly.

  Marla beamed and hugged her. “That’s my special girl.”

  George
poked his head in the door and gruffly told them to hurry up because they were already late.

  Maris was sure she didn’t want to be with either Harlan or Branch and even more sure that neither male wanted her. But, if making a show of herself would appease her mom, then yeah, she could do that.

  Two

  “You can’t hide in here forever,” chided Martha.

  Clay huffed. “I could if you’d agree to bring me a few of the burgers.”

  Yep, he was hiding in his sister’s kitchen while the rest of his herd was outside enjoying a sunny Mother’s Day barbecue. Why was he hiding? Oh, because outside there were about six predatory female reindeers all looking for a mate, and they had decided he was a sound option.

  Clay was the younger brother of the female alpha of the Connors herd. As well as holding a high position in the herd, he did so in the herd’s company and chief source of revenue – they owned hotels and resorts the world over. He was in his mid-thirties, mildly wealthy, mildly powerful and single. He was, therefore, a very distinct target for the older, single females of the herd. Which brought him back to the hiding thing.

  Martha beamed at him. Oh hell. His older sister always had a way of making him do things he didn’t want to do.

  “Everyone is asking after you,” she said in her sweetest voice.

  He doubted that was true. She meant, the female I think you should mate was asking after you.

  Clay had mated a long time ago, and he lost his mate. He wasn’t planning on replacing her with anyone – ever. But, his sister was determined that he couldn’t possibly be happy unless he was mated, so she insisted on trying to push him toward the unmated females.

  “You know that Bella is getting a divorce,” she continued, pointedly.

  Yeah, he knew that. Bella had once upon a time been his high school girlfriend. They parted ways at college with little fuss – there were no Romeo and Juliet declarations of love. She then mated, married and had kids, while he mated and… lost his mate.

  He wasn’t interested in spending the rest of his life with Bella. He had loved her once upon a time, but they rightly went their separate ways.

  “She’s a very lovely cow.”

  Not actually an insult – cow was the technical term for a female reindeer. Though, some of the human members of the herd bristled when they heard it.

  “I’m sure she is,” said Clay placatingly.

  “She may be just the woman for you.”

  No, she wasn’t. She hadn’t been when he was an impetuous teen, and she wasn’t now that he was a grumpy man.

  “Come and say hi,” Martha insisted.

  “I really don’t…”

  “Come on.”

  Martha took his hand, and with a long-suffering sigh, that earned him a smack on the arm, he allowed himself to be led out into the sunshine. She took him over to a group of females – Bella and her friends. They all smiled politely while Bella’s pretty face lit up.

  “Clay, how lovely to see you, I feel like it’s been forever.”

  Nope, just since the last time his sister organized a herd event – she did so on a regular basis and insisted he attend every single one of them. He forced himself to smile.

  Martha elbowed him, and he asked, “How are you?”

  Bella was about to answer when one of her friends let out a low hoot.

  “Oh goodness, it’s Marla. Look at what’s she’s wearing. Disgusting,” sneered Chelsea.

  “She has no shame,” added another of Bella’s friends.

  Clay glanced over to Marla who was indeed wearing a short, skin-tight dress. Other than giving some of the older males heart palpitations, he didn’t really see an issue. George, possibly the grouchiest member of the herd, paid the dress no mind. He merely led his mate and her daughter through the garden, making a beeline for the grill.

  “I feel so sorry for that girl,” said Bella a little sadly.

  Clay looked at Maris. The young cow was tall and even more beautiful than her mother. He had never had much to do with the young female, but he had always thought she had a sweet smile and a patient nature. She’d need it to put up with her bubbly mother and grumpy stepfather. Unlike her mother, her dress was a little more conservative, though it clung to her curves perfectly. He realized he was staring at the young woman and quickly looked away.

  “Humph, she’s just as bad as her mother – hussies the pair of them,” groused Chelsea.

  “She seems perfectly fine to me,” said Clay before he could stop himself. He really didn’t know either of them, but his ire was raised at these females who probably knew Maris less well than him and were just being spiteful. “Marla too, she’s been nothing but polite to me.”

  There was a collective silence from the women around him, and he suspected that they all currently hated him.

  “I agree,” said Bella after a pause.

  Clay watched as Marla smiled encouragingly at Maris, and gave her a small push. He thought he saw a flicker of a grimace pass over Maris’ face. Then, he watched as Maris drew in a breath, squared her thin shoulders, marched over to Branch and declared, “There’s the future father of my children!”

  More than one person nearly choked.

  Three

  Maris perched on the bonnet of her beat-up VW bug. She kicked off her heels and spread her toes on the warm ground. She liked going barefoot, but her mother insisted on high heels to accentuate her long legs.

  Sometimes it was easier not to argue. She loved her mom, and she wanted her to be happy. Like with the throwing herself at Branch thing. Hey, she did what she wanted – she hurled herself at Branch, just in such an overt, awful way that there was no way he was going to take her up on her offer. Branch was reserved and gruff, and as long as she irritated him, they were in no danger of ever mating.

  He was a handsome guy, and yes, he was going to be alpha – she just wasn’t interested in him.

  She looked up as someone approached. Maris held her breath as Clay paused to look at her, and then inhaled in relief.

  “Phew, it’s just you.”

  “Should I be insulted?” he asked smiling.

  “Just thought you might have been my mother.”

  “Or the future father of your children?” he asked wryly.

  Maris smirked. “What can I say? I know what I want.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Which isn’t Branch, I take it.”

  Maris paused. “What makes you say that?”

  Clay let out an impatient groan. “Maris, don’t act dumb, we both know you aren’t.”

  “I know nothing of the sort,” she sniffed. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

  He was carrying a bottle of soda with a slightly lost look on his face.

  “I was just…”

  “Escaping, like me?” she said wryly. “Bella really does know what she wants.”

  And it was Clay apparently. He lowered himself onto the hood next to her, smiling slightly.

  “Thought you were too busy wrapping yourself around my nephew to notice.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Clay raised the coke to his lips.

  “May I?” she said.

  He stopped and shrugged, passing her the bottle. She took a long swig and noticed Clay was giving her a funny look.

  “Thanks.” She passed it back to him.

  He grunted, and she covertly looked at him. Clay was a good looking guy, big, strong, ruggedly handsome - exactly what a reindeer shifter should be. He could be gruff like Branch but also funny like Harlan, and while each of his nephews separately irritated her, Clay didn’t. Not at all. He seemed to encompass the best of both.

  He took a sip of the coke, and she was surprised to find that she was watching him so closely, watching as his muscles bunched and flexed, watching as a tiny bead of sweat trickled down his corded neck.

  These were not thoughts she’d ever had for Clay – he was just someone who had always been in the herd. Not someone she tended to notice much, b
ut then, growing up, she barely had any time for anything other than her mother’s whims.

  She knew he was a lot younger than his sister, Martha. Younger than her own mother – younger even than the age her mother pretended to be. Perhaps thirty-four – something like that.

  She stared down at her toes, wiggling them on the hot ground. What was she doing? Having lustful thoughts for the alpha’s brother-in-law?

  “So, how are things with you at the moment?” he asked in a friendly voice.

  Not that many people were friendly towards her or her mother. They all felt that her mom was taking advantage of George and hated her and Maris for it.

  “Fine.”

  “Really?” he said pointedly.

  “They’re okay. I’m trying to earn enough money to move out of George’s house.”

  “Surely, you have some money from modeling.”

  “No, that’s all gone on clothes and make-up over the years.” Not to mention food and rent.

  “Not interested in college?”

  Maris laughed lightly. “I wouldn’t get in even if I wanted to go. I wouldn’t know what to study – I’ve no idea what I’m even good at.”

  Looking pretty, her mom would say, and her few boyfriends would agree. Though, they didn’t say it to be mean.

  “What about you? Are you planning on mating Bella?”

  Clay looked pained. “I… doubt it. In fact, no.”

  She knew he lost his mate about ten years ago, something like that. It was before they joined the herd. He hadn’t mated since.

  A couple of young, male herd members walked by, leering at her. They nodded at her and grunted at her – or rather they nodded and grunted at her legs. Though they quickly moved on when they saw Clay’s freezing-cold glare.

  “You would have no trouble getting a mate,” he muttered.

  “Sure.”

  Yeah, maybe she could get one, but those idiots who just walked by only cared about her looks – they had no idea who she was. No one seemed inclined to care.

  “You don’t seem pleased by that.”

  Maris shrugged. Her mother had gone through loser after loser before she met George. They were always married, or violent or sometimes both. She supposed George, while grumpy and gruff and dismal, had an advantage over her mother’s exes in that way. He’d been mated years before meeting Marla, but it had ended unhappily. Maybe she should just save herself some pain and not bother mating at all.