The Pretend Marriage: A Werewolf Romance

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The Pretend Marriage: A Werewolf Romance Page 7

by Dawn Steele


  He sees yet another wolf on the banks. Ethel. She has arrived. Now he would have to contend with two wolves.

  There is only one thing he can do. Make a run for it.

  Using his superior human aquatic form to swim to the other bank while keeping the hare’s head out of the water is no easy feat, but he has always been a good swimmer. He is able to kick more powerfully than Jeff, who is still in his wolf form, and so he reaches ground before the latter does.

  The hare is not helping either. It kicks and struggles and generally makes a fine nuisance of itself – not that Jake wouldn’t if he is in the hare’s situation. But when Jake touches ground, his hand relaxes a tad on the hare’s ears, and the animal shoots free.

  “Damn it!” Jake curses.

  Ethel in her wolf form immediately races after the bounding hare.

  Jake fleetingly changes into his wolf form again and gives chase. Behind him, he can hear the thundering of paws. Jeff has reached ground.

  All three of them shoot after the poor, frightened hare. Jake decides that the hare is not going to live long if he doesn’t get to it first. Jeff’s aggression is unexpected and frightening. There is a throb in Jake’s right leg which comes from having been bitten, but he ignores it. In his wolf form, pain is less of an issue than in his human form. His wolf hormones alone are enough to ride anything through.

  Ethel has gotten a head start, but Jake – being faster and larger – soon catches up with her.

  But the hare is even faster. Jake is sure Peter would have known this. Hares are always notoriously faster than rabbits, which used to be his prey of choice. There has to be some sort of catch to this whole contest.

  He signals to Ethel, “We have to head the hare off.”

  “Huh?” She is surprised he is even speaking to her. In their shifter forms, they communicate via grunts, barks and yelps, but the message is clear.

  “We have to work together as a team. You stay on course. I’ll circle and see if I can catch him from the other side.”

  “Got it.”

  He is glad she understands so well. And then there’s Jeff nipping at their heels.

  Jake veers to the left as Ethel continues her pursuit. Instinctively, they are working as a pair in a wolf pack on the hunt. His senses are completely centered on where the hare is heading – the scurry of little legs on the grass, the snapping of tiny twigs. He puts more speed into his limbs, relishing in his own tireless power and the pumping of oxygen in his lungs. Then he veers back again just as Ethel comes bounding up, the terrified hare in front of her.

  The hare screeches in fright as Jake’s specter cuts him off. Jake pounces and snatches the hare by its neck. He has to be very careful not to snap the animal’s tiny cervical bones, but it is a trick he learned from observing hunting dogs. Hunting dogs like golden retrievers have a very soft mouth in general because they have to retrieve fallen ducks and game intact.

  So Jake is very, very careful not to sink his teeth into the hare’s soft flesh. The animal is so stunned that it has practically stopped moving.

  “Come with me,” he tells Ethel, “this is our prize together.”

  She yelps her appreciation as they run together.

  Just then, Jeff comes up.

  “You go ahead,” Ethel says, “I’ll delay him.”

  “I’ll wait for you at the finish line.”

  Ethel turns and launches herself at Jeff. As Jake speeds off, he can hear the growls and snarls and shrieks as the two werewolves clash in a flurry of flying fur and limbs. Jake hopes Ethel will be all right, but Jeff wouldn’t dare tangle with the daughter of his possible future employer, would he now?

  Still, Ethel gives him a head start. Jake is well towards the finish line with the hare still intact when Mariko’s grey and white wolf suddenly appears and lunges at him.

  Oh shit.

  Mariko collides with his flank. Jake recovers his balance and manages not to let go of his prey, miraculously. He swerves and catches sight of Peter and Martha and the rest of the spouses waiting anxiously for them to return.

  Mariko gives chase, but Jake manages to tumble out of the trees and crash land ungracefully in front of Peter with the unblemished but immobile hare in his mouth. He lays it gently at Peter’s feet. He hopes it isn’t injured in any way, because it still isn’t moving.

  Peter picks the hare up as Jake transforms into his human self.

  “Still alive,” Peter pronounces, cradling the trembling hare. Jake wonders how the poor animal must feel in the company of so many shifters.

  The gathered throng breaks into genuine applause.

  Terry gives a cry. “Jake, you are hurt!”

  She runs to him.

  Naked, Jake glances down at his right leg. Sure enough, a deep gash on his calf mars his otherwise perfect skin.

  “It’s OK,” he says, standing up.

  “Who did this to you?” Terry says, outraged.

  Both Jeff and Ethel appear.

  “Wait,” Jake tells Terry. He turns to Peter. “The honors of first prize belong both to Ethel and myself because we worked as a team back there. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

  Both Jeff and Ethel shift. Jeff is red-faced and glowering, but he doesn’t say anything. Ethel is triumphant.

  “Did he do this to you?” Terry demands, pointing at Jeff.

  Everyone tenses. The rules of the game did not prohibit fighting and the use of nefarious methods to cut the other contestants off.

  Peter says in a mild tone, “Jake . . . do you have anything you want to say?”

  Jake pauses significantly as he stares at the baleful Jeff, and then shakes his head. “No. I scratched my leg against some brambles when I was chasing the hare. It’s nothing, just a flesh wound.”

  Ethel glances at her father, but doesn’t say anything. Then she glances at Jake, and a look of mutual understanding passes between them.

  Peter says, “In that case, I pronounce both Jake and Ethel the winners! Congratulations, both.” The expression on his face suggests that he knows what’s really going on, but he will play along to save his guests embarrassment.

  Everyone claps again, genuinely glad for the dissipation of tension. Martha points the shotgun into the air and pulls the trigger. The bullet whizzes into the sky with an explosion of sound that echoes deep into the woods.

  “I feel like we’re in ‘The Hunger Games’,” Jake murmurs.

  Terry kneels by his leg. “You’re bleeding,” she says. Her pretty face is creased into a worried frown. “You need this seen to.”

  “It’s OK. I’m a shifter. I’m tougher than I look.”

  “No, you’re not, Jake Savage.” She stands up resolutely and grabs hold of his arm. “I’m going to march you into the house and tend to this. You might get an infection and the whole leg might have to come off. Who’s going to employ a one-legged wolf then?”

  “Better than a one-eyed wolf,” he replies. At least she isn’t blushing anymore when she gazes upon his crotch.

  “Oh dear, you poor thing. I have a first aid kit back at the house,” Martha says in that concerned way of hers that he has come to admire and respect. Gawd, she makes him miss his mother! “Come along, we’ll make sure you get that seen to.”

  She heads towards the house, turning around now and again to make sure they are following her.

  “You guys OK?” she calls. “Should I call for an ambulance?”

  “No, certainly not,” Jake says. “You go ahead. We’ll come along.”

  From the fringes of his sight, he can see and feel the hate radiating from Jeff, who is putting on his clothes with the help of his wife. Mariko has returned as well, and is eyeing him with caution.

  Screw both of them.

  “Lean on me,” Terry demands, putting her arm around his waist.

  He doesn’t really need any assistance, but it is so nice to feel her warm body against his naked one that he doesn’t protest. His exertions have zapped most of his energy, and h
e suddenly feels the adrenaline depleting from him in waves. Good thing too or he will get a full-on chubby again. He is also very pleased that she seems to be so worried about him.

  “Wait,” he says, “I need to get my clothes.”

  “I’ll get them for you,” Terry says. “You don’t want to put your pants on with that gash right there. The fabric might graze it even more.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grins at her. “You wouldn’t happen to want to keep me naked for a while longer, would you?”

  The moment he said it, he regrets it, because her color suddenly turns red and she quickly takes her arm off his waist.

  Damn! Why do I do these things?

  “I didn’t mean that,” he quickly says. He pretends to stumble a bit, and she quickly supports his shoulder and arm again. She is still blushing.

  Uh, better get back to the house before the moment vanishes.

  11

  Terry is still feeling the heat in her cheeks when she tends to Jake’s wound in the privacy of their bedroom. So far, this is the most intimate thing she has ever done with him so far other than that kiss, of course, which was in full view of everyone.

  He has put on a pair of shorts, but he still has his shirt off and is looking extremely hot – as in the weak knee-inducing , getting her all lusty kind of hot. She particularly likes the way his abdominal muscles flex as he breathes. She wonders how they would feel under her fingers.

  He doesn’t seem to be noticing what’s going on with her, however. He is seated upon their bed, looking on as she dabs his wound with iodine.

  “Does it hurt?” she keeps asking him. The wound actually looks pretty deep, but she can see the granulation tissue starting to form already. Like most shifters, he heals fast.

  He grins. “I’d like to say the pain is excruciating, but it’s an ant bite, really.”

  She glances at his face to see if he is kidding her, but he isn’t.

  “You should get a rabies shot,” she murmurs. “Wolf bites can carry all sorts of diseases.”

  “Only if you aren’t a wolf yourself, which I am. Don’t worry. My immune system is strong enough to withstand most viruses. Haven’t had a sick day since I was sixteen.”

  “It’s terrible what he did to you.” Her righteous sense of indignation rears again. “You should tell Peter Skaarsgard!”

  “I’m not a snitch. I don’t tell on my peers to the boss, and that includes my corporate rivals.”

  “But it isn’t fair.”

  “Office politics rarely are fair. If you don’t want to play them, then at least you can’t allow them to get to you.”

  “How can you stay so cool?” she storms.

  “Because it’s the wiser course of action in a situation like this.”

  She puts down the bottle of iodine and takes up a piece of gauze. She carefully puts this over his wound – now brown and filled with antiseptic – and tapes a wide piece of surgical plaster over it.

  “So what is Peter trying to do?” she says. “Set you three against each other?”

  “I think he’s trying to gauge which of us is the worthiest candidate to take up the post.”

  “By making you kill each other?” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think much of his interview process.”

  He laughs. “Maybe that’s in his grand design.” He gets up. “Come on. I’m starving. Let’s go for lunch.”

  “If I go down for lunch, I might end up throwing my plate at Jeff’s mug.”

  “That mightn’t be a bad thing, except that you’d probably induce Cassie into premature labor.” He grabs a shirt and dons it, much to her chagrin.

  Still, she can’t help admiring the way he won the hare contest and the grace in which he accepted his challenges. A lesser man would not have displayed the teamwork with Ethel that he did. A warm, fuzzy feeling smooshes through her tummy when she thinks of this. She studies his profile as he gingerly puts his pants on, taking care not to dislodge her bandage. There’s so much more to you than meets the eye, Jake, she thinks, and a pang fleets through her chest.

  Lunch is a tense, brittle affair. Jeff avoids sitting next to and talking to Jake, who similarly ignores him. Cassie’s face is pinched and drawn. Mariko makes conversation with everyone, but her exchange with Jake is guarded and wary.

  After lunch, Peter ushers everyone to the lounge.

  “And now for those better halves who didn’t participate in this morning’s challenge, we have a very exciting time planned for you.”

  Terry is apprehensive but gratified when Jake takes hold of her hand for moral support. I can get used to this. She warns herself that he is only doing it for show, of course. They have to put up a semblance of a loving husband and wife for the audience.

  But it’s nice to feel his warm palm against hers. Every time he has physical contact with her, she experiences a thrill – the way she used to as a teenager whenever a cute boy glanced in her direction. Only the feeling now is deeper, more intense. It is quite possibly something she has never experienced before. Certainly not with Burt, which was a much more physical reaction. But what she is feeling now is more connected. More in tune with her inner spirit.

  It is not only physical attraction, she is sure of it.

  Peter says, “From the pulse pounding rush of this morning’s adrenalin filled event, we now have something more cerebral. Martha, will you do the honors since this is your idea?”

  Martha takes center stage – or rather, center lounge in the midst of all the sofas and two seaters and mismatched armchairs, all upon whom are draped the contestants. She beams like the very moon herself.

  Uh oh, Terry thinks. Cerebral doesn’t sound good. She can’t remember the last time she could actually answer any Jeopardy question without Googling the answer.

  “You can do it,” Jake murmurs beside her.

  Uh, I wasn’t exactly valedictorian in class, she wants to tell him. Her heart sinks. She’s going to let him down so bad.

  Martha says, “Now let’s go by this morning’s lines. Whoever has already competed today to my left and the others to my right. Come along now.”

  There are lots of good-natured groans as everyone takes their places. Jake gives Terry’s hand a squeeze before they part.

  “Peter will now hand all of you a set of questions.”

  Peter passes a sheaf of papers and a box of pencils to both lines. “Take one each and pass them down. Write your name above each sheet and fill all the answers up, please. The line on the left gets to write your preferences, and the line on the right gets to guess what they are. The object of this game is to see how well you know your partner.”

  “Whoever gets the most number of correct answers wins,” Martha adds.

  “What if there is a tie?” Jeff asks.

  “Then we’ll have a tiebreaker.”

  Terry takes hers. She eyes the list of questions in amazement.

  1. What is your partner’s favorite color?

  2. What is your partner’s favorite movie?

  3. What does your partner like to eat for breakfast?

  4. Does your partner drink coffee in the morning?

  5. When is your partner’s birthday?

  6. What did the two of you do during last Christmas?

  7. How often does your partner like to shift in a week?

  “Grandma!” yells Mika. “How the hell would I know what Aunt Ethel did last Christmas?”

  “Silly girl, of course you do. This is a little quiz to gauge just how much you know about each other. And that goes for you too, Mika. Ethel’s family after all.”

  “What is this? The Green Card interview?” Mika grumbles.

  This is not, not good, Terry thinks as she starts to scribble furiously beside the first question. She catches sight of Jake, who is trying to frantically meet her eyes.

  “No cheating now,” Martha admonishes gaily as she strides in between the lines like a principal. “No texting each other on the phone to check your answers.”


  Damn.

  Terry doesn’t know Jake’s favorite color from Methuselah’s. She casts her mind to what he usually likes to wear but can’t pinpoint any particular preference. But he looks good in black, and so she desperately scribbles:

  BLACK.

  2. Favorite movie:

  Hell, she doesn’t even know if he likes to watch movies. He has certainly never mentioned any, and what does she know about him anyway? Does he even watch movies at all? Does he ever find the time to?

  This is going downhill all the way.

  “You have two minutes,” Martha warns, making an about turn to go up the lines instead.

  Terry settles for ‘THE MATRIX’, because she knows a lot of guys who like the movie.

  3. Favorite breakfast food:

  Uh, uh, uh. Duh.

  CEREAL.

  4. Coffee?

  YES.

  Who the hell doesn’t drink coffee?

  5. Birthday?

  Oh shit and double shit. There are three hundred and sixty five days to choose from. She has never seen Jake’s ID before, nor remembered any birthday celebration he could possibly have. They have certainly never mentioned birthdays to each other because they were barely speaking before this, and she isn’t even his Friend on Facebook.

  She raises her eyes. Jake is busy scribbling something down. Now she wishes she has ESP so she can connect with him. Give me a sign, Jake! He finally looks up and furrows his brow. It would not do to mouth anything to him like ‘Birthday?’ because Martha is on the prowl. Honestly, that woman would make a good Mother Superior.

  6. Last Xmas?

  She frowns as she tries to think of what she did last Christmas. Oh yeah, she hadn’t even moved into Jake’s apartment block yet. How the hell would she know what he did last Christmas? Visited his mother’s? Most people do.

  She writes down:

 

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