by R. E. Butler
Jason knew the story well. In the high school cafeteria, his father had announced to his mother during their lunch period that she was going to marry him whether she liked it or not, and she told him to go to hell and took off. He chased her, tackled her on the football field, and marked her. She’d apparently had a boyfriend at the time and he dumped her immediately because he was afraid of him, and she took a tire iron to his father’s car in retaliation. And left the tire iron on his front porch with a bow on it. It was just a day, though, or two, before they were together officially. She said she knew all along that they were meant to be together.
"Because the first time a male marks a female, if the female ignores it, then the male has to move on. If he’d said in public that they belonged together, declared her his mate first, and then marked her physically second, like he should have, I wouldn’t have been able to stop anyone from talking to her about it because it would have been common pack-knowledge. That’s not what happened. And, you can't mark a female over and over; it would be like forcing her into an arranged marriage, tying her hands. The verbal mark is meant to claim. The physical mark is meant to solidify the connection to the two, not to force a hand." His father said what Jason knew, but he liked his mother's opinion better.
"I can't lose her. I just can't." He sighed into his hands.
"Fix it, then. Figure it out and fast. It's only been a week and she has already picked Jake's females even over Callie." His father said and Jason nodded, but how the hell could he fix something so damn broken? Tense and at least as unhappy as he’d been before he talked to his parents, he left their home and shifted, leaving his clothes in a pile in the woods. Hunting to let off some steam, he caught a couple tasty rabbits, and then waited in the trees at her home until she finally came in. She yawned as she opened her front door, and he listened with his sharp hearing to her climb the stairs, flop down onto her bed with a sigh, and fall asleep. He smiled inwardly because she'd looked so damn cute in that outfit, but he wished she had worn it for him. He could imagine her teasing him in that sassy outfit, calling him a bastard and swinging her hips suggestively. She had a fantastic body and knew exactly how to work it to her advantage.
When she was sound asleep, he shifted again, dressed, and headed home to get some rest before clocking in to work inside her home. He was going to be on her turf, and he was going to do his best to thaw some of the ice he'd put around her heart.
* * * * *
When he swung by Michael's trailer on his motorcycle so that they could ride together, Michael burst out laughing. Jason had borrowed a pair of overalls from his dad, which Michael thought was hilarious. "Man, you are full on whipped. I'm ashamed to be your brother."
Jason leaned over his bike, faked a punch that Michael dodged and then connected with his shoulder when he wasn't expecting it. Michael cursed. "She asked me to wear them, so I did." He shrugged, already thinking he would ask her to wear something for him some day. Something naughty, like that school girl outfit but with no panties. Hel-lo.
The front door to her home was wide open and he picked up the scent of coffee as soon as he walked up the front porch steps. It was before 7, and he and Michael were accompanied by Linus and Bo. They all commented on his overalls, but he didn't care. To his surprise and pleasure, she was wearing overalls herself. The kitchen smelled amazing, and not just because of her sweet scent, but it smelled like brown sugar and spices. She pulled out a tray of sticky buns from the oven and gestured to the table with her free hand. "Sit down, guys. You've got a really long day ahead of you." While she used tongs to pull the buns from the tray, homemade judging from the flour dusted counter top, he pulled coffee mugs from the cabinet and put the coffee pot on a coaster on the table.
"Very cute, Jas." She said, using the nickname that he'd only let her call him. She tugged on the overalls. "Who knew you would be so…agreeable?"
"I'll point out that they're practical, and you're also wearing them."
She looked adorable, too. She was wearing a tantalizing black sports bra, and the overalls were fitted and one strap was undone so that her breast peeked out, begging to be touched and teased. The bare skin visible between the bottom edge of the bra and the overalls was pale and perfect. She cocked her brow at him and gave him a shove towards the table. They sat together at her small table after Linus pulled a chair from the dining room, the men plowing through the pile of sticky buns while she drank her coffee.
"You look a little tired. Did you have fun last night?" Michael asked.
She grinned. "Oh yeah. Those girls know how to party."
After a short discussion about the club, called SuperNova, she stood up and took the dishes to the sink to wash them. Without looking back she said, "The paint and stuff is in each room, and there are a couple ladders in the garage."
Jason made the motion for the guys to get to work and he walked over to the sink and leaned back against it, resting his elbow on the counter. "You're sticking around, right? I mean, I know I'm your willing servant today and all, but you're not going to just leave us to work while you go get your nails done, are you?."
She laughed. "Servant, huh? Interesting. Yeah, I'll be here. I have a few things to get done, now that I've got this slave driver for a boss and my days are going to be busy."
He chuckled, and cleared his throat, his pulse suddenly hammering. "You know what I was thinking about the other day?"
"Chasing rabbits?" She tossed casually, rinsing the tray.
He shook his head as he laughed. "No. I was thinking about when we were kids and we used to go hiking together?"
Her eyes got kind of a far off and thoughtful look, a small smile played on her lips. He knew he had her, then, her mind going back to about the time that he marked her. He was planning to take her on a trip down memory lane, try to draw her mind to that one day so he could talk to her about it. She turned like she would say something, and her phone beeped and he nearly screamed at her not to answer it, but she did, and he could tell immediately that it was Chris. She mouthed 'excuse me' and walked out the back door, answering whatever question he asked with 'I had a great time'. Groaning, he huffed into the front room and began to work.
Around lunchtime, he went out to find her, and she was in the detached garage that had been her father's workshop, sanding down an old bookshelf. She looked up at him, brushed her hair away from her face, and said, "I ordered pizza, it should be here in about ten minutes, if that's okay."
Surprised, he nodded. "Thanks, they'll like that."
He sat down on the metal stool next to the workbench. "So why are you repainting the house? The paint in most of the rooms seems okay."
She paused and then shrugged, but he could tell from the change in posture that her reason was emotional. She said with a carefully controlled voice. "I needed to make it mine." He understood. Her father had been a drunk bastard and had really tormented her towards the end of his life. He was horrible to her, but he wasn't pack and he never actually laid a hand on her so no one could really do anything to him, but sometimes emotional scars are just as bad as physical ones. Jason had always hated her father and had wanted to protect her from him, but he had been unable to do anything except be there for her, but of course once she started to hate him, then he'd lost that privilege.
She went back to work, and he left her, afraid to push her, afraid not to. He was walking a razor’s edge with her and everything he did was measured, every action backed up by worry and indecision. They ate on the front porch in the warm afternoon sunshine, probably one of the last few nice weekends until winter took hold, and then went back to work. She'd smartly ordered six large pizzas and had only gotten one slice for herself, but she assured them that it was plenty.
They finished painting the house and cleaned up about 7. He offered to take her out to eat for dinner and she declined politely, skirting a glance at the others, and then planting soft kisses on each of their cheeks with sincere thanks for their help. Just like that, they were
out on the front porch, the door shut in their faces, and a weight like despair crushing him. Michael patted his shoulder with a sorry kind of look in his eyes and they all rode off together.
That night at the bar, he watched her and he watched every male in Jake's pack watch her, especially Chris, who looked at her like she was something tasty to eat. When she walked in the door that night, she had looked around the bar, landed on their booth and smiled slightly, and then went to work. He'd sent for drinks from her, again, and she dropped them off with a quick "hey guys" and was gone, caught up with Jake's pack like she was part of them.
He caught the calculating gaze from Chris across the bar as he sat with his own people, and knew that Linus had been right. Chris was luring her to them, using his females to give her the friends she'd never had. And they'd love her to be their alpha, of that he had no doubt. She might be mean as a snake when she was pissed off, but she was also wildly protective of those that she cared about, Callie was a firm testament to that. Cadence had been beaten bloody on more than one occasion defending her weaker friend. From all the way across the throng of wolves, Chris caught his eyes and the fucking bastard had the nerve to look smug. He almost went postal, but he managed to stay in his seat without throttling anyone.
To cement his growing unease, he watched Chris call over one of their females and speak quietly to her, and she grinned and nodded, and then she went over to the sound booth and spoke to the DJ, part of Jake's pack. Her name was Carrie, he thought, she was tall and plain, but blandly nice and that was what Cadence reacted to. She climbed up on top of the bar and looked down at Cadence, then squatted and held her hand out when a song he had never heard before sounded across the speakers and Cadence grinned and laughed, letting Carrie haul her up on the bar top. Two other of Jake's females jumped up on the bar and the girls all sang along with the song, something old that was about ugly women, and they danced a coordinated dance like the electric slide but kind of different. All eyes were on the girls, specifically Cadence, who was wearing deliciously tight leather pants and a tiny halter top, and she couldn't have looked more oblivious if she'd had a blindfold on. Just like that, he saw her slipping away further, and Chris' dark gaze at her, the desire wafting off him like some kind of horrible cologne, was like a nail in the coffin of his future. His future with Cadence.
To his surprise, she rang his doorbell on Sunday night after he left the bonfire early. It had annoyed him that she'd shown up with Chris, again, even though the damn thing was at his parents' house and she could have walked there in less than 10 minutes. The Garra pack was getting on his nerves, far too possessive of his woman. To stop from doing something stupid, like killing Chris and starting a pack war, he left.
"Is everything okay?" He asked, wishing he'd shaved that morning.
"I came to plunder your closet for a work shirt until I can order some for myself." She walked past him like she owned the place, and he wanted her to feel like she belonged there so he didn't give her any crap. She gave him a sly look, "Unless you'd rather I wear what I wear at the bar."
"It would be good for business," he quipped, following her into his room, messy as usual and he again was wishing he'd at least made the bed. She gestured to the bed. "Someone had fun." She hummed in her throat and stepped over a pile of clothes and slid the closet door open.
He growled. "No one had fun in here."
She barked out a laugh and that kind of pissed him off and made him forget his plan to be super nice to her and grateful she was there. She choked on her laugh and said, "I hope you sent flowers, then."
Growling, he went to the dresser where he kept his work shirts and pulled out a couple of the logo shirts and tossed them at her. She caught them and held one open to look at it and then draped them both over her arm. "Thanks. 7 okay?"
"Seven, what?" She switched trains of thought faster than AmTrak.
"Seven o'clock, tomorrow morning?"
He shook his head. "Oh, yeah, sure."
She smiled and said goodbye, leaving him in his messy room alone. What the hell just happened?
He got to work at 6:30, earlier than he'd been in a long time, but he wanted everything perfect for her first day. The new chair, a leather swivel desk chair that he'd paid a pretty penny for at an office supply store sat behind the desk that he'd done his best to straighten up on Friday afternoon. He made a pot of coffee and stocked the fridge with her favorite soda, RC, and bottled water. Drinks were pretty safe from the guys, and he had threatened them thoroughly to keep their hands off, but he would have to warn her not to keep food in there. They were wolves, after all.
She walked in wearing his shirt, tied at the side so that it fell just to the waistband of her dark jeans, and he wasn't sure there was anything cooler than seeing her in his clothes. He'd like to see her in just the shirt, and nothing else, thank you very much. Her construction boots looked adorable, and she'd clipped her hair up, the marks on her neck like beacons for him, barely visible but still calling to him.
"Hey boss." She said smiling. "That's the only one you get from me so I hope you liked it."
She was starting already, and he loved it. "No, actually, I think it's very appropriate. You should call me that all the time."
She walked down the hall and quipped over her shoulder, "It'll cost you a dollar every time you want me to call you boss."
He snorted under his breath. She was too damn sassy for her own good. She dove right into payroll, and he appreciated that she understood how important it was for him to take care of his people. He settled into the back of the shop where there were four garage bays that did custom work and looked at the motorcycle that he'd been commissioned to rebuild. He couldn't get her out of his mind, very aware that she would be in and out of the front of the shop and he could see her any time he wanted. It was like a dream come true, at least a dream with clothes on anyway.
His workers trickled in, all from his pack, all talking about Cadence working the front and how sweet she looked in the shirt. "What are you thinking about so seriously?" Michael asked, coming to look at the old chopper.
"I was thinking I should maybe get her flowers or something? Like a first day thing? What do you think?"
Michael turned green. "I think you're too late."
"What?" He bellowed.
Michael held up his hands and backed up a few paces. "Chris sent flowers, the delivery guy showed up right when we walked in."
"Fuck!" He yelled and threw the wrench he was holding, imbedding it in the concrete wall.
He told Michael to leave him alone, afraid he might try to take out his aggression on his face, and buried himself in taking the bike apart. About 11 he had an idea, and cleaned up and went to the front and found her in her new office, scribbling on a notepad. The flowers, some sort of pink kind that smelled very sweet, were in an expensive looking crystal vase. There had been a card, but she had clearly hidden it, leaving only the card holder.
"Nice flowers." He said from the doorway, hoping he didn't sound jealous.
"They're my favorite." She looked at them for a second and then swept her green eyes to him.
He didn't know that. Why didn't he know what his woman's favorite flowers were? What the hell kind were they? He skipped it, trying hard to ignore the desire to throw the vase through the window. "So I thought that I could take my newest employee out for lunch. What do you say?"
She frowned. "Renee is picking me up for lunch. Do you want me to cancel?"
Would the torture never end? "No, no, that's fine, I just didn't want you to go hungry." He tried to pass off his unhappiness like he didn't care but he was pretty sure he failed. He left and went back into the shop, and when he saw Renee's car pull into the parking lot, the sinking feeling returned, and he felt like everyone in Jake's pack was doing their best to get Cadence to turn to them.
Twisting a wrench in his hands, he thought about what would have been a perfect situation, even back then. If his father hadn’t been there and interr
upted them, he would have told her that she belonged to him and that he loved her and was going to take care of her forever. He would have told her that he was afraid to hurt her so he was going to stay away from her until he got his beast under control, but that she should never doubt he did it for her protection. And she would have understood, promised with her musically lilted young voice that she would wait for him, and trust him, and everything would have been perfect.
He would have been part of her life, not standing in the shadows like a damn stalker and having her friends feed him information. He would have done all that sappy stuff that Linus did for his human ex-wife, but Cadence would have loved it and he would have done anything to make her smile, see her happy. Prom, the drive-in, summers at the lake. He’d have done the whole works, happily, because her smile was worth anything to him, and watching her slowly die inside from neglect and anger all those years had been a hell that he couldn’t escape, didn’t deserve to.
This morning, she should have woken up in his arms. Ridden into work with him. Been yawning because they’d been up half the night making love.
“I’m going to turn into a fucking weepy teenager,” he groused at himself. The part of his brain that wanted to wallow in self pity was winning against the part of his brain that was snapping and snarling to march into the office, jerk her out of the chair and kiss her like he’d been wanting to all these years. Touch those marks with his fingers, trace them with his tongue, and hold her tightly in his arms and make her swear to never leave him again.
Chapter 5
"The flowers are so sweet." Cadence told Chris, calling his cell. He was at work already, as a branch manager for the local credit union. The card had made her smile, "To the sweetest girl I ever ate a popsicle with, Love, Chris".
"Everyone should have flowers on their first day of work, it's just a rule." He said. "So you're going to lunch with my mom again, huh? Don't believe anything she says about me as a teenager."