Free There's Something About Werewolves: Seven Brides for Seven Shifters, Book 1 by Thalia Eames

brushed his side and Garrett threw an arm over his son’s shoulders. Nox only stuck to him when he’d done something wrong. Or when something nagged at him. Garrett suspected both states of mind were true. “Go sit with them.” He hugged his son before nudging him toward the women.
    “The family photo album,” Lennox said as though the thought had suddenly broken through her shock.
    “It’s in the orchard gazebo,” Gran said. “I was out there reminiscing earlier.”
    They sat in silence, their gazes on the blaze. It had consumed one side of the house, eating into what remained in a charred, smoke-fueled fury. The blaze did strange things to the light. Orange-gold stained the yard in an eerie wash of color. Although the smoke blew to the west, the air—heavy and dry—clung to his mouth and nose. It greedily sucked all moisture into an arid haze. And ash began to fall, dusting the ground.
    Misery. No other word for it. Anger, along with the frustration of being rendered impotent by a disaster not even his money could avert, sent Garrett to his car again. After retrieving his backup phone he began giving orders to his staff via text message. The emergency code, 9-1-1-9, he punched in at the start of each text commanded them to move fast or else.
    “Your grandfather’s war medals,” Gran said softly. Her trembling hand grasped Lennox’s limp one.
    “Oh, Gran.” Lennox slid a little closer to her grandmother.
    Dillon Reardon came running through the trees. Relief stopped him in his tracks at the sight of the two Averdeens sitting safely on the front yard. “Thank you,” he mouthed. Garrett waved him off. He didn’t want to be thanked for taking care of his own. A man did that automatically. At least a man should.
    Garrett’s mind rewound to his earlier argument with Lennox. She’d said he hadn’t been there when she’d needed him. When her father had gotten sick he hadn’t looked after her. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
    Gran cried out. The anguished sound punched Garrett in the guts. “All your trophies from high school and college,” Gran said. Collapsing to one side, she laid her head on Lennox’s shoulder.
    “My kitchen,” Lennox said, slumping. “And your gorgeous vintage clothes. And my…my, my…”
    “Oh, your shoe collection. Your beautiful shoes and boots and sandals gone. Leni, I’m so sorry.”
    Lennox bowed her head. “I can’t think about that right now. There’s so much gone. Like—”
    “Mina Averdeen’s photographs,” they said in unison, squeezing each other. Every moment made them remember something else they’d never see again. The flames rendered a continuous trail of lost keepsakes and treasures into the smoke of memories, never again to be touched or shown to future generations.
    “Those horrible paintings Great, Great Aunt Auggie bought in Paris,” Lennox said. Gran laughed in a shadow of her normal glee. “Leave it to old Augusta Averdeen to go to Paris and still come home with shitty art.”
    Their shoulders shook as they leaned heavily on one another. Dillon came over and stood watch over them at Garrett’s side.
    “Oh,” Gran shouted, covering her mouth with trembling fingers. “Oh no, no, no.”
    Lennox hugged her grandmother. “What is it?” But Gran couldn’t get the words out.
    The fire truck finally rambled into the yard. He and Dillon went into action. Garrett took hold of Lennox and Nox while Dillon helped Gran over to the car. Without speaking the two of them worked together to get the women and child settled into Garrett’s custom built Tesla roadster four-seater. He couldn’t say why but he felt better once he closed the door with them safely ensconced inside his one of a kind vehicle. As though only he could protect them.
    The firemen shouted to ask if anyone remained in the house. He told them no and they went to work. The main issue was to keep the flames from spreading to the trees. Nobody could save the house at this point.