by Roxie Noir
“Will you slice the pie? I always ruin it,” said Abigail, coming in behind her, her arms full as well.
Leah turned her back and walked for the door.
“One minute, I gotta pee,” she said, and vanished before Abigail could tell that anything was wrong.
In the bathroom, she flushed the toilet for realism’s sake and then soaked a wash cloth in cold water, holding it to her reddened eyes.
You seriously cannot freak out over this, she told herself. It’s nothing. It’s nerves. You’re about to marry your soulmate and this is all just normal stress-stuff.
Leah thought that maybe if she said it enough times, she’d start thinking it was true, even though deep down she knew it wasn’t,
She remembered something her mom had told her, once, when her father had just started discussing the match with Ian: You’ll learn to love him.
The advice had come as a shock, after being raised on the fairy tales of shifters who were soulmates, after being told that every couple she knew had experienced love at first sight, that special knowledge that they were right for each other.
Apparently, that wasn’t always true.
Leah exhaled, hard, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were almost back to normal, and if anyone noticed something wrong, she could blame it on chopping onions earlier.
“There you are,” said Abigail when Leah came back into the kitchen, setting out dessert plates on the counter for Leah to scoop pie onto. “You just ran outta here like your tail was on fire.”
“Sorry,” Leah said, making the first, perfect cut in her signature strawberry-rhubarb pie.
Nathan wouldn’t look at her during dessert, either, though Leah managed to make sure that Abigail, not her, gave him his pie.
As soon as he bit into it, she could tell he didn’t like it.
Good, she thought, just a little bit angry. At least I won’t marry someone who doesn’t like my baking.
She did pride herself on her baking.
“What kind of father do you think you’ll be?” asked Jonah.
Leah sneaked a glance down at Nathan, who looked very much like he was trying not to look nervous. Quizzing someone about his future children when he’d only said a handful of words to his possible mate was probably outside the norm, too, though Leah had watched it happen to both her sisters’ husbands.
“My parents were pretty strict, and I turned out okay,” he said. It didn’t exactly answer the question, but it was close enough.
“Didn’t your brother run off with a girl?” asked Jonah, and even watching nothing more than Nathan’s hand, she could see him stiffen.
“It’s been a few years,” he said, and Leah did feel bad for him now. She tried to get her father to meet her eyes, hoping she could somehow convey just let the man eat his pie, but he wouldn’t look at her, his gaze locked onto Nathan, his prey.
“Didn’t he fight to take Alpha first?” said Jonah. He was holding his fork almost like it was a weapon, not even looking at his pie.
“Yep,” said Nathan, his tone sounding the littlest bit angry, like he was keeping himself in check but barely. “He was alpha for about twelve hours, and then he drove off with his girlfriend.”
Jonah Whitehorse seemed to consider this for a moment and he carefully cut the corner from his pie, scooped it onto his fork, before he finally spoke, lifting it to his mouth.
“Interesting,” he said.
Nathan didn’t respond, but his gaze swept over the rest of the Whitehorses — everyone but Leah. He skipped right from her father to her sister, passing her by like she didn’t even exist.
Leah clenched her jaw and cut through the buttery pie crust until her fork clinked loudly against her plate. She didn’t even understand why she was so upset — just because she found him so attractive, he was supposed to want her back?
It’s more than that, a voice in her head whispered.
She took another bite of pie, trying to quiet that voice.
The questioning continued through the rest of dessert and then coffee, also served by the Whitehorse women, though again Leah managed to get out of having to be near Nathan.
Nathan seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated and agitated as it ground on, which Leah could tell through the funny little tics he had. The way the skin tightened around his eyes or how he held his fork.
She couldn’t tell if anyone else noticed.
Finally, with the meal over, it was time for Nathan to leave. Leah couldn’t tell if she was relieved or upset.
“The pie was very good, Abigail,” he said as they all stood around the table, formally saying their goodbyes.
“It was Leah’s, actually,” she said.
“Oh. Thank you,” he said, without even bothering to look at Leah.
Inside her, something snapped.
He didn’t have to like her pie. He didn’t even have to know her name, but if he going to compliment her pie, he had to give her credit.
After all, it was her pie.
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said, her voice ice-cold.
“Emily, why don’t you walk Nathaniel to the door,” said her father, in a tone of voice that said it wasn’t a suggestion.
Quietly, she stepped forward, put her hand on his arm — Why does she get to touch him and not me, thought Leah — and they walked into the hall, out of sight of the rest of the family.
Cleaning up in the kitchen, Leah could hear them talking. Or, at least, Nathan was talking, not much more than the usual goodbye pleasantries. I had a lovely time, I’m so glad that you could come, that sort of thing.
Nothing that conveyed the sort of pure light and heat she felt when she so much as looked at him, even if he couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge her presence.
Finally, the front door opened and shut.
Alone for a moment in the dining room, Leah made a split-second decision and bolted for the door as well.
9
Nathan
Nathan stepped back into the cool night air and felt relief wash over him in a wave.
That was, by far, the worst first date he’d ever had in his whole life.
Not only had it been with someone fifteen years younger than him — someone who was, for all intents and purposes, still a child — but the entire time, he’d barely been able to stop thinking about her older sister. It was like she radiated something, some drug, and with her around it was almost impossible for him to think about anything but her scent, her beautiful eyes, the possibility of taking her in his arms and carrying her to the sofa in the next room and then taking her frumpy dress off—
“Hey!” shouted a voice, and Nathan turned, surprised.
There she was, stomping through the slightly overgrown front yard, her hair a wild mess.
She was alone, and if he’d learned anything from his ordeal that night, it was that unmarried Whitehorse women were not supposed to be alone with adult men.
“Leah,” he said, standing still in shock, almost afraid that if he moved he wouldn’t be able to control himself anymore.
“Oh, so you do know my name,” she said, stomping up to stand right in front of him.
Her cheeks were flushed again. Her eyes were bright, but most distractingly, her chest was heaving, pressing up against her dress with every breath.
“Of course I know your name,” he said. “You took a tart straight from my mouth at your—” he couldn’t make himself say betrothal — “at your party.”
Something in her softened, her lips parting just the tiniest bit.
“Why do you hate me?” she asked, her voice suddenly no longer angry. She just sounded sad, and a little wistful, and Nathan felt like a giant hand was crushing his heart, just to hear her that way.
“I don’t hate you,” he said.
“You wouldn’t even look at me,” she said, her tone bewildered and confused.
“That’s not true.”
She snorted and looked away, her jaw working.
&n
bsp; “Why would you think that?” he said.
His stomach worked itself into a knot at the thought.
Hate was the polar opposite of how he felt.
“You can’t even make eye contact with me when I’m talking,” she said. “It’s like you’re pretending I don’t even exist, and I want to know why.”
Nathan felt awful. It was completely true. He’d been doing his best not to look at Leah over dinner, because he was afraid of what his bear might do. Every time he saw her, even from the corner of his eye, he wanted to grab her and take her far away, somewhere that her family wouldn’t be around, where she wouldn’t be engaged to someone else, and where he could sink himself into her sweet, soft flesh...
“You’re doing it now,” she said, her arms crossed in front of her generous bosom. “You’re staring at the woods behind me.”
Nathan redirected his gaze back into her eyes, two perfect pools of blue. He felt like he was falling into them, drowning, the rest of the world utterly inconsequential.
Her lips parted, just a few millimeters, and it was all he could do not to press his own against them.
“Nathan, what is this?” Leah whispered softly, still staring up at him.
She can feel it too, Nathan realized.
“I was afraid of what I might do,” Nathan murmured.
Her forehead wrinkled, just a little, and she finally broke their gaze.
“It’s because I can’t think about anything else when you’re around,” Nathan said, the words coming out fast and hard, like she’d broken their gaze and unstoppered a spout. “I can barely hear or see anything but you. It’s like you fill the air and you distract me from everything else.”
Now she wouldn’t look at him at all.
“When we met it knocked the wind out of me,” he went on, feeling like a balloon with the air rushing out, but it felt good to admit it to her, to at least clear the air. “I didn’t know what had happened, but when that asshole shot a hole in the ceiling, I was ready to take on every single shifter in that room before I let one of them hurt you. I’m sorry, Leah, I know it’s not supposed to be like this. I know I’m ruining everything. You’re supposed to be getting married to Ian and here I am making a total ass of myself.”
Leah didn’t say anything, and she wouldn’t look at him directly, but she bit her lip and he saw her eyes brighten.
“Don’t cry,” he said. “Please don’t cry. I’m leaving, I promise.”
“Wait,” she said.
Nathan thought his heart might stop.
“I thought it was just me,” she whispered. “I thought you wouldn’t look at me because you couldn’t stand me.”
“Not at all. Not even close.”
They paused for a long moment, staring into each other’s eyes. Nathan felt like he was falling endlessly, head over foot, into her, and he never wanted to come back up.
“I was so jealous I thought I might explode,” she said. “Of Emily, for getting you.”
“Not a chance,” Nathan said. “Not a single chance.”
Gently, his fingers almost trembling, he put one hand on her chin, his fingertips just barely brushing her soft, pale skin.
“What do we do now?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Can I kiss you?” He’d never asked permission before, but he’d never even been near someone like Leah before.
“Yes,” she said, her eyes sliding closed.
Just as Nathan bent down, his lips nearing hers, there was a shout from inside the farmhouse.
“Leah!” Jonah Whitehorse’s voice boomed.
Leah’s eyes flew open, only inches from Nathan’s, and now they bordered on terror.
“I have to go,” she said.
Then she gave his hand a quick squeeze in her own and ran back across the unkempt lawn, barefoot, to her front door, giving him one last glance before rushing inside.
Nathan was left standing in the driveway, open-mouthed and utterly unsure of what to do next.
Instead of going home, Nathan rode his bike around for a while. Though Fjords was in a fairly flat little area, the mountains were only about thirty minutes outside town and before he knew it, he was on a two-lane mountain road, climbing higher and higher, the air getting chilly even in the summertime.
Muscle memory and sheer habit wanted him to turn toward Seward and head back to its seedy bars, but he didn’t go. He’d already proven to himself that there was nothing there for him anymore. Cruise ship women were a thing of his past.
All he could think about was Leah. He’d finally touched her, really touched her, and her skin had felt like rose petals and lava under his hands, soft and liquid and hot all at once. Nathan hadn’t known that just touching someone could feel like that, not to mention the rest of her.
The logical part of his brain knew it was probably a good thing that Jonah had called her back inside, because he didn’t know if he’d have been able to control himself. In another few minutes he’d have had her skirt up around her waist, her back in the grass.
He tried to imagine what it sounded like when Leah moaned in pleasure and a chill went down his spine.
I have to see her again, was all he could think.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew that she was going to marry someone else in, what, five more days? He also knew that her father was an absolute tyrant, and that she’d grown up obeying his every command.
But somehow, none of that mattered.
He had to see her again, and that was the one thing that he knew for certain. Everything else he’d figure out one way or another, but there was that one simple, soul-deep desire.
He had to see her again.
It was late, nearly midnight, when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Caller ID told him it was Brock, and so he pulled over to the side of the road, cut his engine, and answered it.
“Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
“I took a ride around the mountains,” Nathan said.
Brock was quiet for a moment. They had known each other for a long time, and Brock understood what that meant.
“So you didn’t hear the pandemonium,” Brock finally said.
Nathan began to get a bad feeling about this call.
“No. What happened?”
“One of the bride’s redneck cousins caused another ruckus,” Brock said. “Again.”
Nathan flinched when he heard Brock called Leah the bride.
“Oh.”
“He got drunk, picked a fight in a bar, shifted near humans, and then knocked over a traffic light on his way out of town.”
“Damn.”
“I need you to do something about him,” Brock said. “I talked to him and to Jonah about this after the engagement party, but it seems that we need something a little stronger.”
Nathan had that awful, crawling feeling in his gut, the feeling he got when Brock was asking him to do something really bad.
“How much stronger?”
“Rough him up and leave him in the woods. Couple of broken bones. They usually learn after that.”
Unbidden, Nathan thought again of Kaitlyn, of that horrible snap sound.
He was quiet for a long time, staring at the yellow lines on the road.
“Nathan?”
“I don’t think I can, Brock,” he said, slowly.
He thought of Leah, of her perfect, beautiful face staring up at him. How could she love someone who put her cousin in the hospital?
“Why not?” asked Brock.
Nathan was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.
“I’d like to start being a better person,” he said.
He didn’t say, I want to be someone that Leah could love.
To his surprise, Brock chuckled.
“For Emily,” Brock asked. It wasn’t a question.
“Well, you know,” answered Nathan. He didn’t want to lie to his alpha, but he didn’t want to give himself away.
“Understood,” said B
rock. “I’ll find someone else.”
Then he hung up the phone, leaving Nathan straddling his bike, on a road in the dark.
His refusal had gone surprisingly well.
10
Leah
Leah knew that she was in trouble the moment she opened the front door to the house, her father standing at the other end of the short hallway, simply glowering.
For one moment she felt a flare of anger at the whole situation. She was thirty-two years old, and even though she’d grown up in this clan and did things their way, how many other thirty-two-year old women could still get in trouble with their fathers?
“What were you doing?” he asked. He stood perfectly still, the only hint to his fury the line sunken between his brows.
“He left his phone on the table,” Leah said, brushing her hands together like she was wiping them off. Her heart was still beating so hard she was certain her father could hear it, but hopefully he’d think she was just afraid of him.
“I didn’t see it there.”
Leah shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “It was sort of peeking out from under his napkin. I wanted to get it to him before he left.”
The chasm between his eyebrows got shallower. It was working.
“You should have had one of your sisters accompany you.”
“I didn’t think of it, daddy,” she said, walking forward in the hallway. She was out of the danger zone now, she could tell.
He still glared, but less severely.
“It was just the front yard, daddy. It was nothing.”
Coming right up to him, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his beard-covered cheek.
“You know that I don’t approve of you being alone with men.”
“I know.”
He stepped aside and let her through to the kitchen, and Leah felt her insides go droopy with relief.
If he’d caught her actually touching Nathan, there’d have been hell to pay. Not only had she been in physical contact with a man she wasn’t at least betrothed to, but she was already betrothed to someone else.