I breathed in the chilled air, willing it to ice the ragged edges of my nerves. It was always blissfully quiet in the walk-in cooler, the steady hum of the motor the only sound. For some reason, people seemed to leave me in peace longer when I escaped to the walk-in rather than my office.

Maybe they thought it was a bad sign—like I was closer to the end of my ever-fraying rope. Maybe I was. Who knows? But I felt more protected here, like the thick insulated walls kept the world at bay.

They didn’t, of course. Eventually someone would need something—from me, or from the cooler. Sooner or later the cold would seep too deeply into my lungs, I’d start to shiver and I’d have to come out on my own. But not yet.

I leaned my head back against the silver door, taking another deep breath of the wonderfully chill air. The evening had been going so well. Granted, Jack not showing up to introduce us to his friend and keep him happy and smiling with amusing anecdotes about The Sweet Spot was a disappointment. But we’d rallied. George and Diego had cooked their asses off, and Madam Opal had charmed the food critic until he was laughing out loud.

We were sure to have a rave review. And then Alexia called, raining doubt and questions all over my happy evening. What was going on between her and Jack? And why couldn’t I stop myself from caring?

God, when had it happened? When had Jack gone from a business partner to someone who could make me feel so insecure? When had I given him that power? And how was I supposed to get it back?

“Kate, honey?” Madam Opal’s voice was muffled outside of the cooler. She knocked but didn’t try the latch. “You know I wouldn’t normally bother you while you’re . . . chillin’—but there’s a small mountain of a man out front asking for you.”

“Tell him I’m not here. I left already,” I yelled. “Come back tomorrow.”

“Right,” she said. “I tried that. He said he could, and I quote . . . smell you.” I stiffened. “Now I know that sounds like a whole ’nother level of weird, but I gotta tell you—there’s something about him. He’s got the sweetest eyes, and a smile that tweaks all my girl parts. Well, y’know, if I had girl parts.”

I jerked open the door and the pretty blonde jumped. “Did he give you his name?”

“Marcus Russo. Said you knew him.” She stepped back, giving me room. “He said you were going to be family soon. I figured he must be related to the Pensiones. Looks rich enough. Do you know if he’s single? And . . .” She winked at me. “Open-minded?”

“He’s engaged. I think. I mean, he’s supposed to be, but . . .” But then Alexia called to tell me Jack had asked her to marry him, and I still wasn’t clear if she was considering it. If she was, then where did that leave Marcus . . . and me? I sighed. “Honestly, I don’t have the first clue about anyone’s romantic status in that family.”

I should never had let George marry one of them. First Jack stands me up and then Alexia calls to toy with my insecurities. Now Marcus comes around? What could he want from me? Relationship advice? Was he going to ask me to help keep Jack away from his fiancée? Like I could. How the hell had I gotten caught up in a Twilight-style lover’s triangle? And I wasn’t even one of the lovers. I was a side character in my own life. What the fuck?

I marched out of the cooler . . . and back into the fire.

“Hello, Marcus,” I said. He’d taken the end seat at the counter. It was well past dinner and the diner was nearly empty. I grabbed a damp cloth and brought it with me, wiping the counter to help hide my nerves. “What can I do for you?”

He lifted his coffee cup. “Warm me up?”

I turned and snagged the fresh pot from the warmer and topped off his mug. Madam Opal was right—Marcus was a mountain of a man. Sitting in my normal-size counter stool, with his butterscotch hair tucked behind his ears, his big muscles pressing against the seams of his jacket, his suit creased from a long day’s work and a pale shadow of stubble coloring his chin, he looked like a dad squeezing into his daughter’s play set for pretend teatime. Even my mugs looked small in his huge hands.

He sipped, then set the cup down with a smile. “It’s good.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here, Marcus?”

He chuckled and toyed with his mug. “No. That wasn’t rude at all.” I sighed and he held up a hand. “Okay. You’re right. This isn’t just an odd coincidence. I want your help.”

Seriously? What was I, the poster girl for werewolf outreach? “How? With what?”

“I want to be alpha—I have to be,” he said.

News flash. Not. “Marcus, Jack is in line to be—”

“I know.” He shifted forward, cutting off my words, sitting on the edge of his seat. “And I know you’re helping him. But I want you to help me instead. I can make it worth your while. And you don’t have to do anything. In fact that’s exactly what I need you to do . . . nothing.”

Okay, that got my attention. “Is this because of Alexia?”

He shrugged. “Yes . . . and no. I can feel her slipping away. That would change if I was the clear choice for alpha. She’d be drawn to me like . . . like she is to Jack. But it’s more than that. Jack can’t be alpha. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s like a spoiled kid, desperate to get his daddy’s approval.”

“You’re wrong there. Jack practically hates his father,” I said.

“That’s what he tells people. And maybe on some level he does. But anyone with a brain can see he’s just like him,” Marcus said. “Frank Pensione never gave his son a second of his time. There was always someone else who needed him more. It drove Jack crazy. Still does. He thinks if he takes over the pack, his father will finally be proud of him. He’ll finally have time for him. Jack doesn’t really care about the pack—he doesn’t even care about being alpha. It’s just a means to an end. Jack will do whatever it takes, use whoever he has to, to win his father’s love.”

“Jack has plans for the pack, a direction for the future,” I said, realizing I was defending him despite the fact that I agreed with some of what Marcus was saying. “He loves his family and wants what’s best for them.”

“Is that what he told you?” Marcus asked. “I mean, I’m guessing he gave you some sort of convincing story so you’d agree to marry him and finally make him alpha eligible.”

I stepped back, protective instincts surging to the surface. “I think you should go, Marcus.”

He raised his hands in surrender again. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was out of line. It’s just that . . . well, obviously, you’re an intelligent woman. You have this business. You’ve got your brother and friends. You have a life. You seem like your average, happy human. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how Jack managed to lure such a normal, beautiful woman into our crazy supernatural soap opera.”

“We . . . fell in love,” I said, my tongue tripping on the lie. At least it had been a lie. Was it still a lie if only one of us had been stupid enough to actually fall?

Marcus chuckled again. “No you didn’t.” He took a sip of coffee.

“I’m sorry. Tell me again why you’re here.”

His smile widened and he set his mug back on the counter. “Yeah. I’m not going about this the best way. It’s just that—no offense—I know Jack’s not in love with you. He couldn’t be. And you’re far too attractive and smart to enter into a marriage with someone who can’t ever love you . . . Unless you were going to get something out of it.”

I swallowed hard, unable to look him in the eye. “What makes you so sure he couldn’t love me?”

The big man shrugged. “You’re not his type. I mean, I’m sure you knew that. You’ve seen Alexia, and the other women he’s been with.”

Wow. Really? Was there a good way to take that? He must’ve read the offense on my face because he hurried to ease some of the sting.

“I didn’t mean . . . I said before that you’re beautiful. It’s just that Jack has always gone for more . . . um, obvious women. Y’know, like Alexia—tall, sexy, with a kind of damsel-in-distress thing going for them. The kind of woman who needs a knight in shining armor to rush in and protect them from a world that just wants to use them up. Like those actresses with all the pushy fans, and the socialites harassed by people who only want their money. Being the hero is a huge turn-on for the guy. I’m guessing that’s why he picked you.”

“I don’t follow,” I said.

“Well, look at you. Strong, independent, not afraid to fight her own battles—you’ve got no use for him,” Marcus said. “Combine that with the physical differences, average height, more athletic body, less curves, and kind of a, um, relaxed fashion sense . . . you’re a safe choice.”

“Safe?”

“Jack picked you to marry because he knew he’d never fall for you in a million years,” Marcus said, and something inside me recognized the truth when I heard it. I looked away, an invisible knife twisting my gut. Pride kept me from letting Marcus read anything in my eyes.

“The question was, why,” he said, oblivious to the effect of his words. “Jack’s reasons were easy. He didn’t want the emotional mess that comes with love. I’ve known Jack all his life. When that boy starts to really feel something for a woman, he can’t think straight. In the fifth grade, he had a crush on Miss Newberry, our teacher.”

I forced a tense smile. “Sweet.”

Marcus laughed, taking another sip of coffee. “Not really. The guy almost failed the year. Luckily, she got married over winter break and Jack pulled his ass out of the fire. But I can see how he’d take one look at Alexia, and one look at you, and figure if he wanted any hope of keeping his head on straight and proving himself to his father as an alpha and a CEO, you were the safer choice.”

“Interesting,” I said. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard it before, or at least a version of it. I wasn’t Jack’s type. Everyone could see it. So why was I so surprised, so hurt, to hear that he didn’t—couldn’t—love me? I didn’t want to admit what I knew in my heart.

Jack was a smart man. It made sense. If he wanted to keep things strictly business like he’d said, no risk of romance, he’d choose the last woman on earth he’d fall for. I put a hand on my belly, dinner threatening to make an encore appearance.

“You are what I couldn’t figure out,” Marcus said. “Why would you agree? What was the plan? And then it hit me. You’re just like him.”

“What?” I sneered. “No. I’m not.”

“You are,” Marcus insisted. “You have this place, and those people in there who count on you. You’re a fighter. You are the knight in shining armor in your life. You’re the one who protects people and fights for them. That’s how he got you. He offered you a way to protect what you love.”

I stepped back, my brain racing, following his chain of logic. Good lord, it made sense. He was right.

Marcus shifted forward again as if he could close the space between us despite the counter being in the way. “I did some checking. I know the Pensione Company owns this building. I know they filed an eviction notice for your diner.”

I nodded. “But Jack . . .” I swallowed the tight squeeze at the back of my throat. “Jack’s going to reverse it once he’s alpha. He’s giving me the space as a wedding present.”

“I knew it.” Marcus smacked the counter, pleased with himself. “Listen to me, Kate. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to shackle yourself in a loveless marriage just to save your diner. I can help.”

“What are you talking about?” I blinked at him, my mind skipping over the details of my agreement with Jack. My marriage to him might be devoid of any hope of love, but it was only temporary. In a few months, once the divorce was final, I’d be free to marry whomever I wanted . . . provided that someone wasn’t Jack.

“I’ll give you the money to buy the space from the Pensione Company,” he said. “You’ll own it free and clear and no one will ever be able to try to take it from you again. All you have to do is call off the marriage this weekend. Don’t marry Jack, Kate.”

I shook my head, taking another step back. “No. I . . . I can’t take your money.”

“Then call it a loan,” he said pushing to his feet, trying to stay close. “We’ll set up a payment plan, like a bank. Just call off the wedding.”

My head was shaking no, but my mind was reeling. If I called off the wedding, Jack would never be alpha. He’d already presented me as his once-in-a-lifetime mate. But if that was so important to him, what was he doing with Alexia? Did he really ask her to marry him? What if she said yes? He wouldn’t need a pretend wife if he had Alexia. If he didn’t need me to hold up my end of our agreement, how could I trust that he’d hold up his?

Where would that leave me, the restaurant, and everyone who was counting on me to save it?

“C’mon, Kate. You don’t have to forfeit any chance at love to save your diner,” Marcus said. “We can both win if we work together. You can trust me.”

“I . . . I have to think about it,” I said, mind racing, staring at nothing.

“Kate.”

My head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice. “Jack.”

He stood just inside the door to the diner, hands in the front pockets of his suit slacks, brows creased. His green eyes flicked to Marcus, and the other man smirked, picking up his paper napkin and slowly wiping his mouth—unconcerned.

“Hello, Jack,” Marcus said. “Can’t believe you kept this charming little eatery to yourself. I’ll definitely come back, have a slice of that delicious-looking pie.”

Guilt slinked through my veins, pooling in the pit of my stomach. I looked at the small pie stand with its clear glass cover at the center of the counter. Blinking at it, my brain struggled to figure out if I’d done something wrong—and if I did, what.

“Marcus,” Jack said in greeting, his tone even.

The bigger man snorted under his breath, pulling a fifty from the billfold in his breast pocket and dropping it next to his coffee mug. “Thanks for the coffee, Kate. I’ll be in touch. Soon.”

He strolled toward the door, giving Jack a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed. When the door drifted closed behind him Jack’s gaze swung to mine.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?” he asked.

It hit me then. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Why was I feeling guilty? Jack was the one who’d tried to find a way out of our agreement. “Yeah. Alexia called. On your phone. Seems you left it at her place.”

“We weren’t at her place.”

“Wherever,” I said. “Did you ask her to marry you?”

“Yes,” he said and my breath froze. “I withdrew the offer when I realized we weren’t . . . compatible. I told you this.”

Was he really going to make me ask again, specify dates and times? It didn’t really matter. “Whatever. Alexia has your phone. You might want to remember next time you two . . . get together.”

I turned and headed for the kitchen.

“Kate,” Jack said stopping me at the kitchen door. I looked back. “Marcus can’t be trusted. I don’t want you to be alone with him. Not for any reason. Do you understand?”

I huffed. “I don’t really care what you want. And I don’t care who you want either.”

His brows creased. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I turned to face him, folding my arms across my chest. “If you’re going to back out of our agreement, I’d like to know now, so I can make other arrangements.”

“With Marcus?” he asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“No?” he asked, brows high. He exhaled, looked away. “We’re to be married in less than a week. You’ll be my wife.”

“In name only,” I said. “I don’t belong to you, Jack. And our agreement won’t change that. Don’t forget that this was your idea. I was doing just fine before you came along. I can fight my own battles and protect the people I love without your help.”

“You can save your diner?”

“I have options,” I said.

“Marcus.” He said the name like a verb.

I didn’t answer. “You asked Alexia to marry you before me. I bet the pack would believe you had it right the first time. That she’s really your destined mate,” I said.

“They might.”

“Then it sounds like we both have options,” I said.

“It does.”

I turned and went into the kitchen. Jack didn’t follow.