Christine pressed an ice pack against her dad’s nose perhaps a little too forcefully. He yelped.
“You’ll get no sympathy from me. I hope you’re happy. Harold’s checked in to the Regency hotel.”
“That guy would pick the most expensive place in town,” complained her dad.
“It’s also the best in town!”
Ugh! Christine collapsed on the couch. She wanted to scream.
Even being back in her family home wasn’t helping. She’d thought it would be just that – like coming home. But it wasn’t the same anymore. Now, she felt more like a guest. She felt like she had to use coasters and ask permission if she could get some food. It wasn’t a feeling she liked but ultimately, this wasn’t her home anymore. Though maybe she’d finally be allowed to use the guest towels – the fluffiest towels known to man and ones her mom seemed to think should be reserved for royalty.
“I’m really not sure why you brought him,” said her mother primly.
“Of course I brought him – he’s my husband! He was coming here to meet his new niece as much as I was.”
“Did he not allow you to come on your own?” demanded her dad. “Does he not allow you to leave the house without him?”
“Of course he does. He even bought me a car so that I could go anywhere I wanted.”
That seemed to stump her dad. Hah! Criticize that! Wait, oh yes, he was going to.
“Flashy bastard. He’s trying to buy your love.”
“Not possible.” If it were, she would have fallen hook line and sinker for Derrick Meyers when she was thirteen – he offered her his horse.
Christine looked at her phone again. He had texted when he checked into the hotel to tell her where he was. She replied asking if he was okay. He replied with the word – yes. She was kind of hoping he would reach out to her, but really, why would he?
“I really don’t know why you’re being so difficult. You wanted me to marry him.”
“We didn’t have a choice.”
“No, there was a choice – a crappy choice but still a choice. You chose the mating just like I did. But the thing is, Harold and I are the only ones who seem to be trying to make the best out of the situation. Is it always easy? Heck no! But he’s a good guy, and we’re finding our way through it.”
“Well you don’t have to worry much longer,” said her dad in his most patronizing voice. “We’re going to find you a way out of it.”
“I’m not worried,” she mumbled, her words completely falling on deaf ears.
“Now that we can afford it, we have a lawyer looking through the agreement.”
Christine narrowed her eyes. “You can only afford it because of the money Harold’s pack gave you. So, you’re using their money to break up their agreement? Real classy.”
“Christy,” admonished her mom. “You should be grateful to your father.”
“Fine, whatever – do what you like. I don’t think you will find some kind of loophole, but if it makes you feel any better, you can try.”
“We may have grounds if Harold causes you mental anguish. Does he do anything that might constitute that?”
“He doesn’t even leave the toilet seat up.”
Okay, she could admit to a little loneliness over the past week and a half, but no anguish. Really, any anguish she had was caused by the sudden arranged mating – the one her parents begged her to go through with – rather than Harold himself. But, she did wish he was around more. Being alone made her sad. She wasn’t about to admit this to her dad. His behavior at the hospital was bad enough.
Christine checked her phone again. She tapped out a text, asking if he was okay again. Can’t accuse her of being original.
*
Harold threw back another whiskey. His inner wolf stirred restlessly. He should have hit the bastard harder. How dare he say that - in front of Christine, too? Did she believe that? Did she honestly think that he was cheating on her? True, she did not know him very well yet, but he thought she trusted him at least.
He closed his eyes as he remembered her snapping at him to leave. Perhaps whatever progress they had made in the past week and a half had been obliterated with one punch.
Rightly or wrongly, he had wanted his wife - his mate – to be on his side. True Christine was in a difficult position, but he had hoped she would feel loyalty to him.
His phone chirruped, and he groaned at the caller ID – his own father.
He answered with a gruff, “Yes?”
“Where on earth are you?” exploded Harold Sr.
“I am in Texas,” he replied tightly.
He had informed both Linda and Thomas that he was leaving town for a couple of days, but perhaps his father hadn’t believed either of them.
“What the hell are you doing there?”
“Christine’s sister was in labor…”
“So?”
“Christine wanted to see her,” he explained with razor thin patience.
“Could she not go on her own?” spluttered his father.
Hell no, she could not. “She asked that I accompany her.”
“And you said yes?!”
“Obviously.”
Harold Sr. huffed and puffed. “Well, is the pup born yet?”
“Yes.”
“So come home!” he growled.
“I have responsibilities here.” Though at that moment, they didn’t want to see him and were probably pissed at him for punching their father.
“You mean Christine?” he sneered. “She’s a grown woman; she’ll be fine. Your job here is more important.”
“We are married…”
“Exactly – you’re married, you don’t have to waste your time trying to impress her.”
Harold gave up. He wasn’t going to waste his time trying to explain this to a man who saw his own marriage and wife as major inconveniences. How could he explain his need to be near Christine at all times, his desire to protect her against everything, his wish to be her hero? He wanted to be everything to Christine, but he just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Perhaps by not thumping her father…
“I will see you in a few days,” he grunted and hung up amid his father’s squawks of protest.
He signaled the bartender for another whiskey. She was also a wolf shifter, and he vaguely wondered if she was part of Christine’s old pack, or if she at least knew her.
“Hey there.”
Harold stiffened as a woman sat down on the stool next to him. She was human, with chocolate brown hair, green eyes, and a very slinky black dress. Was she lost?
Her glossy lips curled. “Buy me a drink?”
Was she actually hitting on him? He wasn’t the type who usually attracted women at first sight. His brothers were, but normally women took one look at his stern face and ‘bugger off’ expression and were instantly put off.
“I’m married,” he muttered.
“I won’t tell,” she cooed flirtatiously.
Harold stared at her for a couple of beats, watching as her smile flickered under his hard gaze. He supposed she was considered attractive, but like most females, the only thing she elicited from him was irritation. There was only one female he wanted to bat her eyelashes and flirt with him, and at that moment, it seemed unlikely she would again.
“I’m sure there is any amount of males in this bar who would be interested in you, I suggest you go and bother one of them.”
Indeed a glance around showed that a few males were glancing in their direction, admiring her shapely legs and her breasts that were threatening to spill out of her dress. Humph – she wasn’t a patch on Christine, and his wife didn’t need to flash her body to get attention. She had the sweetest smile that could make men weak at the knees – or at least it made him weak at the knees.
The bartender continued cleaning the same glass she had for five minutes, hanging on every word they said.
“Whiskey,” he snapped at her, and she jumped to attention.
“Honey,” purred the brunette.
She placed a hand on his leg, and he jerked away from her touch with a snarl. She flinched at the sound, but it didn’t seem to deter her.
“I already told you, I’m married.”
The woman pouted. “She prettier than me?”
He glared at the woman. “Infinitely. She’s beautiful.”
She was too – the moment he met her he was struck by her beauty. He considered her the most beautiful woman in the world – the only woman in the world to him, and part of him still couldn’t believe she was married to him.
For a moment it looked like the woman was going to argue, but she just shrugged and slipped off the stool. “Suit yourself.”
The bartender beamed at him as if he had just done something wonderful like run a marathon. “On the house,” she chirped with a wink.
Harold frowned but sipped at his drink, quietly stewing.