Harold watched Christine a little warily. They were sitting in bed; she was eating a bowl of popcorn while he sipped at his coffee. She looked as innocent as falling snow, but he was a little afraid of what she might do next. A little afraid of what he might do as well.
Earlier, he had honestly thought he might lose control completely. He wanted to shift to his beast and tear somebody apart. Thankfully, another desire had taken over.
After, the suitcase had been promptly thrown to the floor, and Christine had taken a short snooze while he held her, perhaps a little too tightly in case she tried to bolt. She awoke hungry, and he had duly obtained food for his mate. As quickly as possible – he ran to the kitchen and back, ignoring the scalding coffee as it sloshed over his hand. He didn’t want to leave her even for a second.
Christine gave him a nervous look before she clambered over the bed and found her purse. She pulled something out and handed it to him.
“This is the scan.”
He studied it, seeing the vague outline of a baby. His baby. His pup. Mine.
He couldn’t help the wonky smile that spread across his face before he remembered that Christine had almost considered leaving him.
“Are you not happy it is a girl?” he asked carefully.
“Of course I am.”
Christine looked like she was about to burst into tears, and slowly, he dragged her into his arms.
“Then what is wrong?”
“I thought you wouldn’t want her,” she murmured. “I thought you wanted a boy.”
“When have I ever said…”
“You didn’t,” she grumbled. “I overheard your grandmother and your mother talking. Your grandmother suggested that if it wasn’t a boy that we would… ah…”
Yes, he could fill in the blanks. His rage boiled as he felt hot, wet tears slithering over his chest. Christine shook with a silent sob.
“Evil old crone,” he snarled. His animal pushed to the fore. Grandmother and old lady or not, he wanted to claw her at that moment.
Christine clutched him a little tighter. “Your mother didn’t think you would agree, but Marie said that you could be persuaded. You agreed that having a boy was of the utmost importance.”
“I’ve never said anything like that to my grandmother. Are you sure she meant me?”
Christine pulled back to look at him, blinking at him. Her face wet and red. “Your grandmother said the name, Harold… I assumed…”
“I think she meant my father.”
Christine let out a fresh round of tears. “I’m so sorry, I was just scared, and I changed my mind about going.”
Harold grunted and held her tightly, almost crushing her to him. He had almost lost her, and that was unbearable. He would not tell her it was okay because he was too angry with her. Angry she did not trust him.
“You should have talked to me.”
Christine nodded against him. “I know.”
“I trust you; I expect you to…”
Christine whipped away from him so fast he almost dropped her to the floor. Thankfully he caught her and scowled.
“You trust me?” she repeated.
“Of course, but…”
“Harold, you don’t even trust me enough to allow my male boss to take me out to lunch,” she snapped.
“That’s not the same,” he argued.
The tears dried as she gave him a near petulant look. “How is it not the same?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust.”
Christine raised an eyebrow. “Do you think he’s going to maul me in the middle of the sushi restaurant?”
“You shouldn’t be eating sushi in your condition.”
“Ugh!” She threw up her hands. “I’m sorry I went a little crazy back there, but you know what, I think I’m allowed this one. I’ve been nothing but a dutiful daughter and wife, and still, I can’t do anything right!”
“You do everything right… almost,” he added after she glowered. “You are perfect.”
“Humph.”
“Perfect for me. It is why I love you.”
Both he and Christine froze. She clearly hadn’t expected him to say it, and honestly, it left him a little startled too.
It was something he was aware of, but he wasn’t sure he was going to say it. Wasn’t sure he would ever say it. He didn’t know whether she felt the same and whether she ever would feel the same. He had never told anyone he loved them. He decided that telling her would make him look weak, and he had decided not to – until this very moment.
“What did you say?” she whispered.
He could deny it, but no, it was time to stop being a coward. He brushed a stray lock out of her face. She was blotchy and puffy and as beautiful to him as she always was.
“I love you, Mrs. Buchanan.”
Christine’s lips parted as she stared at him and for a brief moment, he thought she was going to laugh at the ridiculousness of what he said – deride him for daring to love her when she could never love him. But, he couldn’t be more wrong.
“I love you, too… Mr. Buchanan.”
Her eyes lit up, and Harold grinned before he kissed her. Just when he thought it was going to be the worst day of his life…
*
Things were a little rocky for a few days after that. Harold didn’t really trust her, and she didn’t exactly blame him. He wanted to keep her close at all times, even going as far as making her bring her work up to his office, and making her wait in his office – often falling asleep on his couch – until he was ready to go. She didn’t mind very much – perhaps only when he tried to escort her to the bathroom and come in with her. At that time, she was feeling pretty fragile and having him near helped. Plus she liked seeing the annoyed look on Nora’s face whenever she came into the office and saw Christine there. Petty but enjoyable.
Harold was happy, though. Happy at the fact that she loved him, and happy they were having a daughter.
She just had feet cold enough to freeze a hot tub when it came to telling his family. She had barely seen them since the… incident. When she almost ran away. Harold hadn’t really been in the mood for socializing with anyone, even going as far as blowing off a few business dinners.
As they lay in bed, Christine ran her fingers over his arm, which was firmly locked around her. He always held her while she slept now – almost punishingly tight.
“Have you told your family about the pup?”
Harold grunted. “There is nothing to tell.”
Christine twisted back to look at him. There was a dark look on his face, though this one wasn’t for her, thankfully.
“Our baby is no concern of their’s,” he said.
“That’s not how they see it,” she muttered, relaxing back into his body. “Don’t you want a boy… eventually?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied cautiously.
“Don’t you want your son to be the next alpha?”
He grew tenser with each question, perhaps worried she would take offense at one of his answers.
“I would be proud if my son were alpha. But just as proud of any daughter whatever she chose to be.”
“Maybe she could be the next alpha.”
Harold chuckled.
“Well, why not?”
“Why not indeed,” he crooned kissing the spot under her ear. She liked it when he did that.
“We need to decorate the nursery.”
“Yellow?” he asked with a smile.
He knew her fondness for the color – given that every day he sent her a bunch of yellow flowers. She was considering opening a flower shop.
“Actually I was thinking of blue with clouds.”
“I’m sure that will be perfect.”
They lay in silence for a few moments before Harold said, “Your father called me today.”
Christine pushed away from Harold who was reluctant to let her go and leaned on her elbow to look at him.
“Why did he do that?” she asked cautiously.
Harold sighed and settled a hand on her hip, not wanting contact to be completely broken.
“He merely asked how you were doing.”
Christine scrunched her nose. “Why wouldn’t he call me?”
“Would you have answered?”
“Probably not,” she admitted, saddened by that fact. She used to be so close to her parents.
“He called me last week as well.”
Christine blinked in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was not sure how you would react.”
They stared at one another.
“I should have told you,” he admitted. “I should have trusted you.”
“It’s okay,” she said finally. “I’m just glad he’s coming around. I would like our pup to meet my family.”
Harold smiled and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.
“I love you, Mrs. Buchanan.”
Christine giggled. “Really hitting that l-word hard, aren’t you?”
He told her when they woke up, over breakfast, over lunch, driving home from work… she’d never felt so loved, and it was fabulous!
Harold blushed slightly. “In truth, I have never said it to anyone else.”
“Really?”
Momentary shock assailed her before she remembered what his parents were like - wasn’t that much of a surprise really.
“Well, perhaps my nanny, Jacinta, when I was three. Right before my mother caught her, ahem, blowing my father and fired her.”
“Jeez.” Every one of Harold’s childhood stories had a bitter taint to it thanks to his atrocious family.
“I bet you have said it to many people,” said in a soft voice, but his eyes watched her keenly.
“Sure,” she shrugged. “To my parents and sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, grandparents… oh, and my cat.” She smiled at his frown. “Never to a man though.”
He seemed a little relieved to hear that. “Good,” he said, smugly.
“I love you, Mr. Buchanan… even though you are insufferable sometimes.”