The Complete Wild Series (Emily Hunter Series) Read online

  FIVE STAR REVIEWS FOR LANE HART’S

  WILD ABOUT YOU: THE STRANGE LIFE OF EMILY HUNTER

  Book One in the Emily Hunter Series

  “… beautifully blends together a number of book genres from romance to paranormal, action, emotional drama and more. It's well-written with a sharp and imaginative writing style that just sweeps you up in Emily Hunter's life as she and her husband find that secrets can only be kept so long and the outcome of those secrets is more than they ever imagined”

  - R. Coker, Verified Amazon Purchaser

  “Emily is a great main character. She's witty and resilient, and she'll need to be if things are as crazy as they may become in the second volume of this series. Ben's secret is brought to life in a zany and hilarious way …”

  -Jack Magnus, Readers’ Favorite

  “Awesome new paranormal series!”

  - Angela, Verified Amazon Purchaser

  “Wild About You: The Strange Life of Emily Hunter is a wonderful blend of romance, humor, and paranormal. Lane Hart does a fantastic job of this first book of the Emily Hunter series, making readers visualize Emily dealing with her husband’s unexpected secret with bravery and humor. The ending is perfect, and it leaves you looking forward to the second book …”

  -Tina Stanciu for Readers' Favorite

  Wild About You: The Strange Life of Emily Hunter

  Part One of the Wild Series

  By Lane Hart

  Chapter One

  I had an odd feeling that my life was about to change, but I had no idea how drastic that change would be.

  It was Monday, March 7th, and I was headed home after a fun filled day of talking to an endless number of fools who had gotten drunk, done something stupid, and been arrested over the weekend. For the past five years it had been my job as a paralegal to listen and write down all the excuses and denials while meeting with our new clients. There seemed to be an infinite supply, as I worked for one of the busiest criminal defense attorneys in the state.

  My boss, Jack Justice (not a joke, that's really his birth name) had offenders lining up all the way around our small office building in Charlotte, North Carolina, waiting for a chance to hire the best to represent them in whatever shenanigans they swear they didn’t do.

  Jack more than lived up to his reputation, and somehow worked more legitimate miracles in the criminal justice system than any attorney in state history. I liked working for him because he was one of the few honest and ethical attorneys around. He appreciated my quick wit, hard work, and enthusiasm in keeping up with his huge caseload, which was why he paid me twice as much as most paralegals.

  I was watching the bumper of the red beamer in front of me like a hawk as I sat in five o’clock traffic. I turned up the radio to find out how much further I would have to creep up an inch at a time until I would get past today’s wreck. My little silver Honda was going to need new brakes again if the people in this town didn’t learn how to drive.

  My husband Ben didn’t really understand why I made the long commute back and forth each day. If it was up to him I’d be a trophy wife whose only jobs consisted of shopping and gossiping with other wives all day.

  I knew what I was getting into when my husband Ben and I bought our house in the suburbs just outside of the city a few months ago. Ben had recently opened a veterinary clinic in the area and we found a house nearby in a quiet neighborhood with several acres of land. Despite the commute, I honestly enjoyed my job and wasn’t planning on leaving it anytime soon. It’s not like there were any law firms out in farm country. But the daily bumper cars routine on I-85 was still a pain in my ass.

  Something other than traffic had been nagging me for the past few days, but I couldn't put my finger on it. If I didn’t write something down on a sticky note I would forget it. Without anything to do other than memorizing this guy’s license plate, I tried to think about what I had forgotten to do or what I might be missing. Not having any luck, I switched to the more pleasant task of daydreaming about my husband.

  I was a very lucky girl. With Ben’s Captain America physique, stunning good looks, and Ph.D., he could’ve had any girl he wanted. Why he picked me with all my quirks, morbid sense of humor, and girlishly petite figure was beyond me.

  I’ll never forget our first kiss just three years ago. We met at my friend Lindsey and her husband Jason’s house. Since Ben and Jason were old high school buddies I’d seen him whenever Lindsey and Jason invited friends over to watch football games or just hang out.

  It was impossible for any female not to notice Ben. He radiated sex appeal, and his intriguing and mysterious air made him even more desirable. He was at least six feet tall with cobalt blue eyes that blazed with intelligence, and short, usually messy, dirty blonde hair.

  Even though I had developed a crush on Ben the first time I seen him, and flirted with him at every possible occasion, I was all but certain I was invisible to him. It turned out I had been absolutely wrong about that.

  Late one Sunday night when we were both leaving Lindsey and Jason’s I had quickly told Ben goodnight as I turned away to try and find my car keys. That was when Ben surprised me by suddenly spinning me around and kissing me. I was so caught off guard that I couldn’t move even as he wrapped me in his arms.

  After a few seconds Ben noticed I was paralyzed and quickly dropped his hands. He took a step back before he said, “Oh God! Emily, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just …sorry.” Then embarrassed, he turned to walk away.

  I touched my lips and realized I hadn’t imagined his kiss. I finally came to my senses and told him not to leave, and that it had been a nice kiss. Ben had smiled in relief and then asked if he could take me to dinner the following night. I, of course, quickly accepted.

  Over the weeks as we got to know each other I was amazed by Ben’s kind and considerate personality, which was even better than his oh-so-yummy tanned muscles. His old school manners and ambition were also a big turn on. My dating history before Ben had consisted of a bad batch of losers who seemed to all have the work ethic of a sloth or the hygiene of a pig.

  With Ben’s chivalrous nature it took us weeks to move past first base, much to my disappointment. I couldn’t wait to get Ben undressed and see if what was underneath his clothes was just as nice as the rest of him. The first time he stripped down in front of me I actually hyperventilated.

  Our relationship was actually more than just an overwhelming lustful passion, though. Ben shared my love of football. We were both huge fans of the Carolina Panthers, and the day I showed him my autographed Steve Smith jersey he told me he loved me. Of course his love went deeper than my great taste in professional athletes. Ben said he fell for me because I was sexy, smart and had a guy’s crude sense of humor.

  Within a few weeks we started spending all of our weekends together. When it became too difficult to leave each other on Sundays we decided to move in together.

  The only thing I found unusual about Ben was that Jason was his only real friend, and his parents seemed to keep to themselves as well. When he had told me that he had only dated “a few girls” before me, but none of them serious, I thought he was being modest. I had seen other women’s reactions to him, and, if I walked away from him for too long, they were throwing themselves at him.

  We said our vows this past January on a beautiful beach in Hawaii. I missed the beautiful views, relaxed atmosphere, and Ben and I having our own private bungalow away from the busy world for a few days. I still blushed when I thought of some of the more intimate moments we had together in that bungalow, and various other places around the island.

  Since then it had been back t
o reality and our somewhat boring and busy lives. I hated that we both worked so much. Between my long days getting ready for trials, and Ben’s ever increasing on-call pet emergencies, we seemed to never have enough time together.

  Ben was just a little more than four years older than me and his big 3-0 birthday was coming up on March 18th. It would be awesome if we could take off on a weekend beach getaway. That only left me with eleven days to find a reservation, but the North Carolina coast shouldn't be very crowded this time of year. Hold on, stop the car!

  I screeched to a halt a millimeter away from Mr. Beamer’s bumper, and miraculously avoided losing my own rear end to Ms. Minivan who was talking on her cell phone.

  Back to the important question of: what is today’s date? March 7th? I’d been so busy that I’d completely lost track of time and missed the first of March, which is when the dreaded Aunt Flo had never failed to make an appearance. Ever.

  I pulled out my iPhone from my purse and with a shaking finger, opened up the calendar app. Okay, so today is definitely the 7th, and going back to February 1st and counting forward means I am six days late. That can’t be right. I counted the weeks again only to get the same outcome.

  Well, it looked like I’d be taking a detour to a local pharmacy before heading home. At what seemed like a snail’s pace I went along with the stop and go traffic until I found an exit with a chain pharmacy’s red and white sign shinning like a beacon on the top of the hill.

  I put on my turn signal and whipped my little car onto the exit ramp, speeding through the light of the intersection into the pharmacy parking lot. There had be some other explanation to this time of the month delay, and I needed confirmation as fast as possible that I wasn’t late because I was pre-, preg-, nope I couldn’t even say that word.

  I parked my car in two spaces, and ran, with some difficulty in my heels and stiff grey business skirt suit, into the store, almost before the sliding glass doors had actually opened. I stretched my neck as I scanned the isles looking for the "Family Planning" section.

  When I finally found the place where condoms and tests ironically intersect, I was overwhelmed by my choices, and whoa, these things are not cheap! I decided to go with the more expensive box that provided a digital result with the word I couldn’t bring myself to say, "Pregnant" or "Not Pregnant". I figured you couldn't get any more precise than that.

  It took a great deal of restraint to not take the test right then and there in the unsanitary public restroom. Instead, I made my way up to the empty checkout line and laid the test on the counter.

  While I fumbled through my purse looking for some cash or my debit card I noticed that the slightly round middle aged clerk, with a short brown pixie haircut, was chomping loudly on her gum and looking like she was dying to comment on my purchase.

  I was less than friendly when she finally said, "I guess congratulations is in order, huh?"

  “You too! When are you due?” I asked with the same amount of enthusiasm, giving her a sarcastic smile as she silently looked away to ring up the test.

  As I watched her smile turn upside down I felt a little bad for my petty comment, but she needed a quick lesson in “Mind-Your-Own-Damn-Business 101.”

  After I slid my debit card and used the keypad to go through a hundred questions to pay for my twenty dollar purchase, the cashier threw my receipt in the bag and I was out the door.

  The drive home was a dangerous blur. I don't remember any street signs, traffic lights or if there were other cars on the busy road. It’s probably a good thing cops avoid rush hour traffic. I was too busy thinking about my two possible outcomes, "Pregnant" or "Not Pregnant" to worry about traffic laws.

  Sure, I've always wanted kids, several would even be nice. Eventually. I was an only child and always wished I would’ve had someone other than my imaginary friends to play with growing up. The problem was that Ben and I had only been married for two months, and we both had very time consuming jobs.

  Even worse, the only time Ben and I had ever discussed the possibility of us having kids, it ended with him telling me that because of some unusual “medical condition” he was born with, he didn’t know if he could ever have a baby with me, and he didn’t really want to try because of “the potential for birth defects.”

  I thought he was being too pessimistic on the issue or just making excuses for not wanting kids, which of course was strange because he was so sweet and caring as he tried to save everyone's family pet. I just couldn't figure out his quick dismissal of the idea of children. I had hoped that eventually I’d be able to talk him into trying in a few years when I felt that I was ready to have kids. I had no idea that conversation might be sooner rather than later.

  Chapter

  Two

  I pulled into the basement garage of our two story brick house, and ran up the stairs to our master bath. Luckily, even though I had to sit in a moving parking lot for almost an hour each day, I still beat Ben home from his clinic that stays open until six p.m. I didn't want him to worry unnecessarily until I knew for sure the outcome of the test.

  I ripped open the cardboard test box as I stormed past our canopy bed, and then flicked on the lights over the bathroom counter so I could see what I was doing. I quickly through read the instructions but mostly focused on the illustrations. Seemed pretty simple really, pee on one end, cap it, lay it down flat for two minutes, and ta-da, you are rewarded with the answer to one of the most important questions in your life.

  The agonizing two minute wait seemed more like two hours. My thoughts were going a mile a minute as I kicked my black stiletto hills off and paced back in forth in front of the bathroom counter chewing on my fingernails. As I stared at the time on my iPhone I noticed I had two missed calls from Ben. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him until I had my answer.

  I looked up at my harsh reflection in the mirror caused by the overhead lights. I felt like I was living someone else’s life right now, but nope, I still looked pretty much the same. My skin was a little paler than its usual ivory shade, and my thick blonde hair lay in heavy waves down my shoulders, having lost all the manufactured curls from this morning. My green eyes with light yellow streaks looked wider and more frightened that usual, but my short, slim frame looked the same underneath my disheveled and mildly uncomfortable skirt suit.

  Turning to the side to assess my stomach there was not even a hint of a pregnancy bump, although my normally flat chest did look unusually fuller.

  I rubbed my hand over my lower stomach again and couldn’t stop myself from trying to imagine what a tiny version of Ben might look like with his amazing blue eyes and cute dimples when he smiled, or even a mini-me with my light hair and big green eyes. Both brought a small smile to my face, but then I remembered our conversation on children and my stomach flipped, switching my thoughts back into panic mode.

  Finally the clock flipped to the second minute and time was up. The moment of truth was upon me. I held my breath as I leaned forward on the counter to look at the results. “Pregnant”. Oh God. My vision swam and my legs wobbled. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be sick or pass out until it was suddenly clear it was the former. Good thing the toilet was so close.

  After a few minutes of calling Ralph I washed the tears from my face with a warm washcloth, vigorously brushed my teeth twice, and tried to pull myself together enough to leave the bathroom. I slowly made my way down the hall to our living room, having to steady myself on the walls as I went. I felt like I’d been run over by a Mack truck.

  According to the time on the DVR in our entertainment center I had maybe twenty more minutes to figure out how I was going to break this news to Ben. I grabbed my phone and started to call my mom or one of my best friends to get advice, but then I decided that Ben had a right to know this news before anyone else.

  Time seemed to sit still for the second time today. I was making tracks in our living room carpet with my pacing when finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard the garage door o
pen. Oh God, I think I’m going to pass out.

  I sat down on the corner of our brown leather couch and put my head between my legs as I waited for Ben to come up the stairs.

  “Emily, are you okay? I tried to call you and it kept going to your voicemail,” he said as he closed the basement door and then wandered around the house looking for me.

  I couldn’t make words come out of my mouth to respond and tell him where I was, no matter how hard I tried. Ben finally found me sitting in the living room, probably looking like death warmed over. I must have been quite a sight, because he suddenly jerked, pausing in hesitation before he came over and crouched down in the floor in front of me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked again, as he put his large hands on my forehead and cheek as if checking me for a fever.

  “Yes and no,” I finally managed to croak out.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he looked me over with his brow furrowed. He pulled himself up from the floor and sat down on the couch beside me, gently sliding his arm around me.

  When I turned to look at him I could easily see all the worry and love for me in his beautiful blue eyes which helped me gather my nerve. I told myself that he cared about me so much that he wasn’t going to be upset with this news, and maybe he’d even be happy since he thought he wouldn’t be able to have children.

  I closed my eyes and then let out my breath, as I whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

  Crickets chirping. I opened my eyes and looked over Ben as actual, not imagined, minutes of complete and utter silence ticked by. His arm slowly fell from me as he leaned back against the couch. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glazed over. He continued staring off in space trying to comprehend what I had just told him. I’d never seen him in such a state.

  I tried not to freak out. In my overly optimistic mind I imagined that after the shock wore off he’d give me a warm smile and throw his arms around me. Wouldn’t he?