Patrice, Harold’s receptionist, was eager to usher Christine past her, and Christine nodded gratefully. She hitched her picnic basket a little higher and made her way towards Harold’s office.
They stayed in Texas for a few days, during which she was able to spend a lot of time with her sister and her new niece, and Harold was able to spend some time at her old pack’s business, checking into what they were doing with his pack’s investment. Her dad resented him even more for it, but Harold knew what he was doing. Christine considered that her dad could learn a few things from her husband. She had enjoyed seeing her sister and the baby, but what pleased her, even more, was that she was able to see more of Harold than at home. Sadly, it couldn’t last long, and it was time to go home. Harold suggested she may wish to stay in Texas for a few extra days, but she could tell he was not keen on the idea, and knowing that Harold wanted her with him delighted her no end.
Her parents convinced themselves Harold was dragging her away – they were sure he was an unreasonable ogre – but Christine was sick of them and their attitude. She was also annoyed that Roark kept showing up at her parents’ house. Given that the last time they talked he was throwing insults and the last time they saw each other he tried to molest her, she didn’t want to see or talk to him. It was better that she stay completely away from Roark – he was kind of starting to scare her.
It pissed her off that her father was slow to kick Roark’s ass to the curb as well. Her dad was actually trying to encourage her to talk to him. She didn’t know who upset her more. No, she did - it was definitely her father.
She and Harold were muddling along, and she felt affection for him – the last thing they needed was her parents ruining that. Course, when Harold got back he had a lot of work to catch up on, so she barely saw him for days. Which was why she was going to make time with him.
“Hey, Linda!” she called, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.
She had no reason to be nervous – jeez, she was just going to visit her husband, but she couldn’t help it.
Linda beamed and rose to her feet. “Mrs. Buchanan, what a pleasure.”
“Christy, please. Is my husband here?”
Linda took in the picnic basket, and her smile seemed to brighten even more. “In his office and long overdue for a break and some lunch.”
Linda barged into Harold’s office without any of the hesitancy that was currently assailing Christine.
“Mr. Buchanan?”
“I’m busy,” growled Harold, “no interrupt…”
He stopped on seeing Christine peeking past Linda.
“Sorry, I know you’re busy,” Christine said.
“No, no, it’s fine,” he reassured her.
He came around the desk to face her and Linda diplomatically slipped out of the room.
“I thought you’d be too busy to go out, so I brought a picnic.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” he said slowly.
Christine placed the basket on the floor. “It’s my pleasure; I haven’t seen much of you.”
Harold frowned and he reached out to cup her cheek; she pressed herself into his touch. They had not been intimate since they returned from Texas and she missed it. Perhaps their time away had spoiled her – Harold had been able to devote a lot more time to her, and now she was back to falling asleep and waking up on her own in a large, cold bed.
“I am sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, I understand.” Which she did, it just didn’t make the cold and lonely nights and days any easier. She shrugged and started pulling out the picnic. She had brought a rug and loads of food. Harold smiled as she set everything out on the floor – this was the closest she was probably ever going to get to a real picnic with her husband and she wanted to enjoy it.
“I’m just a little bored,” she said as they settled on the ground, “and still a little peeved about missing out on those jobs.”
Harold grunted and dove into the roast beef sandwiches. “Have you been searching for more job opportunities?”
“Yes, but no one seems to want to hire me,” she chuckled without much mirth. Every time she found something suitable, she discovered that the job had already been filled or was no longer available. She either had terrible luck, or it was a darn conspiracy.
He gave her a thoughtful look, told her that he liked her roast beef and horseradish sandwiches and then suggested, “Perhaps you could volunteer. There’s a complex in the compound for older wolves no longer able to live on their own.”
Christine finished chewing and considered that. Over the years she had often visited the older members of her old pack with her mother – often doing their shopping, helping them clean and reading to them. She had honestly enjoyed helping them. She hadn’t considered doing the same for her new pack – they didn’t seem like the kind of wolves who would admit to needing help.
“You think they’d want my help?”
He gave her an indulgent look. “I doubt they would refuse it.”
They wouldn’t dare she thought in amusement. Who on earth would wish to risk Harold’s wrath?
“Yeah, maybe I could. That’s a really good idea.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he teased, and she giggled.
“No, seriously, I love that idea. One of the nice things about my old pack was that everyone knew everyone – but then we were a much smaller pack. I’d really enjoy getting to know my new pack members more.”
He nodded in approval. “One day you will be their alpha female, I would like them to get to know you, too.”
Christine placed a hand on her cheek. “Oh, don’t remind me – that’s a terrifying thought.”
“Nonsense,” he dismissed gruffly, “I’ve no doubt you will be a wonderful alpha female.”
Christine beamed at him. Though considering she was following in Marie and Marguerite’s footsteps, the bar may not be set that high.
“I’ve always thought our pack needed a stronger alpha female,” he said.
“Stronger than your grandmother?” she snorted. “Because seriously, I think she could get through to the final round of Mr. Universe and not bat an eyelid.”
Harold snickered. “Not that kind of strength. Our pack needs someone strong but much more nurturing.”
“Oh, I’m not sure how strong I am.” She bit her lip, considering whether to tell him, but ultimately decided she didn’t want any secrets. “Earlier today I caught Esther trying to crush up prenatal vitamins and put them in my orange juice.”
“What?!” His face danced with fury.
“Yep. I couldn’t even bring myself to yell at her, because I know she’s only doing it because she’s terrified of your grandmother. Who is a psycho - by the way.”
“Yes, I agree with that,” he muttered in annoyance. “I will speak to Grandmother again, but as for Esther…”
Christine squeezed his hand. “Don’t be too hard on her. She’s just worried about her eight grandchildren.”
“She has eight grandchildren?”
“Yeah, didn’t you know?”
Harold shrugged. “I believe her daughter left the pack at a young age to mate with a bear shifter. I do not know more than that.”
“Well, apparently they rely on Esther to send them money. Esther told me that while her daughter and her mate are happy, their business isn’t doing very well at the moment. Apparently, they run a trailer park, and it’s not been doing very well, and they’re saving up for college for their eldest and… What?” He was smiling at her.
Christine inhaled softly as he leaned forward and gave her a brief kiss. “What was that for?” she murmured, licking her lips in delight.
“This is why,” he said in a low, husky voice, “I know you will make a wonderful alpha female. Because you care. Do you think my grandmother has any idea about Esther’s daughter or her grandchildren? Or if she does, do you think she gives a damn about them?”
“Well…”
“You are special, Christine.”
She blushed in pleasure. “I think you’re pretty special, too.”
He huffed, and Christine moved to wrap herself around him, ignoring the fact that she managed to kneel in the potato salad. She sat on his lap and kissed him thoroughly.
“I’m serious,” she murmured. “You’re special to me.”
“My Christine,” he breathed against her.
“Why not Christy?” she whispered as he nuzzled her neck, the picnic completely forgotten.
“Hmmm?”
“Everyone else calls me Christy – but you don’t like it.”
“I prefer Christine. It’s much more elegant, much more beautiful – like the woman herself.”
“Oh,” she gasped as his teeth nibbled her collarbone. “Then I prefer it too.”
*
Christine tried not to snicker as she swiped at the potato salad on her knee and the coleslaw on her ass. They hadn’t done anything more than kiss and nuzzle, but she managed to get half of the picnic all over her.
Never mind yelling at Esther, she would have to thank her. It was the older she-wolf who gave her the picnic basket and suggested Harold might enjoy a picnic. She probably didn’t think it would be on his office floor, but without Esther’s suggestion, Christine may have missed out on the sweetest date she had ever had.
It was a shame Harold Sr. seemed intent to ruin her good mood. He caught up with her by the elevator. Her frantic pressing of the button made no difference – the darn elevator was still stuck on the third floor.
“Christy,” said Harold Sr.
“Hello,” she murmured, trying not to smile as she thought about what Harold said about her name.
She’d always considered Christine old fashioned and had always preferred Christy – thinking it more fun and cuter. But maybe she was wrong. Let everyone else call her Christy. She was happy for only her husband to call her Christine.
He eyed the picnic basket. “Been visiting my son?”
Who else? “Yep.”
The blasted elevator finally arrived, and unfortunately, Harold Sr. followed her in. He was silent for a couple of floors, and she actually got her hopes up that he just wanted to use the elevator. But no, he didn’t.
“I’ve spoken to one of our pack lawyers – discreetly, of course,” he added at her questioning look. “He agrees that we can change the agreement so that you can see other people. I can’t imagine you don’t want to.”
He gave her a leer, which she countered with an offended look. She wasn’t sure whether he was insulting her or her husband with that comment, but she assumed it was both.
“I’m not interested,” she told him primly.
She really wasn’t. Things weren’t perfect, but she was happy with Harold.
Harold Sr. gave her a stern look – an expression she had seen on her own husband’s face quite often, though she had never found it quite so offensive until that moment.
“If you cheat, your pack loses everything.”
“I’m not interested,” she repeated.
“What about Roark?”
She blanched at the mention of him. Did Harold know about him too?
“What about him? He’s a man I used to date.”
“You still have feelings for him.”
Christine fumed at him. “No more than Harold does for Sabrina – the difference is Roark is in another state. Sabrina’s only on another floor.”
Harold Sr. completely ignored her. “You could still see him – of course, you’d have to be discreet.”
“Like you are?” she spat.
“What?”
“The first time I visited here I saw you feeling up a female even younger than me – how discreet was that?”
His face burned red with indignation. “How dare you…”
“How dare I?! You’re accusing me of wanting to cheat on my husband – actually you’re trying to force me into doing it to keep me away from my husband – your son!”
He sneered at her. “You think my son isn’t seeing other women?”
“Yes, that is what I think. Because, unlike some wolves in this pack, I think loyalty is just as important to him as it is to me! I also don’t think he has the time, because frankly I think he’s overworked, and I think you use him because you know he’ll do all the work – because he cares so deeply about his pack. Frankly, I think my husband is worth a thousand of you!”
With excellent timing – because Harold Sr. looked like he wanted to go for her throat – the elevator arrived on the first floor, and Christine strode out before he could say another word.
It was a wonder her husband had turned into the loyal and caring man he was considering his role models! She felt herself extremely lucky because she really wasn’t sure how she would have coped if she had been lumbered with an arranged mating to a male like his father. Yes, all in all, she was darn lucky.
*
Harold flicked a look at his assistant, Thomas. The young man smiled. He was a lot like Linda, in that he was competent, did as he was told and didn’t take offense at Harold’s snappiness.
“Send my wife some flowers.”
Thomas nodded and started scrolling through his phone. “What kind?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What color?”
“I don’t care.”
Thomas hesitated as if disapproving, but anything he may have wanted to say was lost as Harold’s father stomped into his office, and yelled at Thomas to get out.
Harold arched an eyebrow at his father. His mood seemed to be constantly set to foul recently.
“You should ask your wife not to come to the office,” Harold Sr. hissed.
“Really?” muttered Harold, ignoring his father.
“She has no business being here! She distracts you from your work. You were supposed to be at a meeting over lunch, and you blew it off for her.”
Harold scowled at his father. “She does no such thing, and Duncan was always supposed to be at that meeting. He just wanted to get out of it so he could leave early to go golfing. I’ve only delayed his round by an hour.”
He watched as the older wolf paced. His father really was worked up about Christine, and he wasn’t sure why. What was Christine doing that was so infuriating? Bringing him lunch? Making him happy?
His father stopped and pinned him with a glare. “I don’t think she’s the right female for you.”
Well, that was a pity because Harold was certain she was. “Christine and I are getting along – you should be pleased.”
“She’s not nearly as docile as we expected her to be…”
Harold snorted. Christine was hardly a spring-loaded lioness waiting to explode! He had found her amenable about everything. She had given up a lot to mate him and she was more than pleasant about it. She deserved a freaking medal!
“But she takes up far too much of your time. Her father is infinitely difficult to deal with. She refuses to have a pup, and she actually wants to get a job!”
Yes, she truly was an evil mastermind.
“At least your mother managed to put a stop to her ridiculous job aspirations.”
“What?” snapped Harold, suddenly interested in what his father had to say.
Harold Sr. waved his hand impatiently – as if this were the least important thing on his mind. “Your mother made sure those companies where she was interviewing wouldn’t give her a job. The Buchanan name carries a lot of weight. She made sure no one would hire her – or will hire her.”
“Why…” stammered Harold, appalled with both his mother’s behavior and the guiltless ease in which his father related it to him. “Why would she do this?”
“Son, your wife’s place is at home, taking care of your pups.” His father looked at him as if he were insane.
“We don’t have pups!” he howled.
“Exactly!” snarled his father, as if Harold had just proved his point.
“I don’t remember my mother spending much time in our home taking care of me or any of her pups! How dare you do this to Christine! You had no right!”
His poor mate was hurt and upset over her rejection – over the fact that no one wanted to hire her, and it could all have been avoided were it not for his crazy, interfering family.
“We have every right – the future of our pack is at stake, and it’s becoming clear that Christine is not a suitable mate for you.”
Harold rose to his feet, vibrating with anger as his wolf roared. He was pleased to note his father quailed a little.
“Tough. She is my mate, and she is not going anywhere. Now, get out.”
“Harold… son…”
“Get. Out.”
He didn’t need to be told a third time. Harold dropped back into his seat, trying to stop himself from shaking so hard. He wasn’t sure he had ever been so furious – and given just how infuriating his family could be, that was saying something. Though some of his anger melted to sorrow.
Christine. He didn’t know what he hated more – his grandmother trying to force her to conceive or his father trying to get rid of her.
He wouldn’t let them take her away. She was his. Mine.
Harold loosened his tie. His wolf was not calming. He had a few meetings that afternoon, but Linda could reschedule them. It was vital that he get out of there that instant. He needed to go for a run until he was too tired to want to murder his family!
*
Christine was asleep by the time he arrived home. It had taken a lot for his beast to calm and he had stayed out half the night running and hunting in a way he hadn’t since he first became a wolf.
His pretty mate was curled in the middle of the bed, a serene expression on her face. He quickly shed his clothes and coiled himself around her, pleased as she moaned contentedly and snuggled up to him.
He needed to tell her what his mother had done. But would Christine realize he wasn’t to blame? It didn’t matter, he would tell her the truth… when the time was right.