Keeping the Wolf

by E A Price

  Harold growled and removed her hand. “Your behavior will not be tolerated. If you need anything, speak to the beta – do not communicate with me, and certainly do not go near my wife.”

  “What about me?” she pouted.

  “What about you?!” he exploded. “Christine is my wife – she is mine, now and forever. If you do anything else to jeopardize my marriage, you will be sorry.”

  “Harold?”

  He turned, relief and anxiousness coursing through him as his pretty wife gazed up at him in curiosity.

  “Christine,” he rumbled. “We’re leaving.”

  “Okay.”

  Sabrina looked like she was going to argue. He quelled her with a look – he must have looked pretty fearsome because she shrank away from him without a word.

  He held out a hand to Christine and without hesitation, she laced her fingers with his, said goodbye to a grinning Jennifer, and they walked back to the car.

  “Are the pack get-togethers always quite so tense?” asked Christine.

  “I’d like to say no…”

  “I’m starving. Let’s go get some real food.” He hesitated, and Christine’s bubbliness ebbed a little. “Unless you have to work.”

  “No, but maybe we should make one stop first.”

  He needed to do something to appease both him and his beast.

  *

  “Are you sure you want to eat here?” Harold asked in mild disapproval.

  “Are you sure you want to spend so much on a wedding ring?” Christine countered.

  They stopped to buy wedding rings. He had been considering wedding rings since Linda suggested them, but after that morning, he wanted to show Christine – and the rest of the world – how serious he was about their marriage.

  Harold wanted Christine to choose the ring she wanted, but she kept choosing the cheapest she could find, so Harold chose for her. He opted for a pretty ring that Christine had been throwing longing looks at. It had diamonds and a rose pattern and was nearly the most expensive in the store. Harold had them engrave it with their initials and the date of their wedding, and it looked more than a little stunning on her finger.

  Now they were at a restaurant of Christine’s choosing – a steakhouse.

  “If you don’t like it, I will buy you another,” he said.

  Christine gaped in disbelief. “Harold, I love it – how could I not? It’s the most beautiful thing I have.”

  She wiggled her fingers, delighting as the diamonds caught the light. Harold watched her in rapt delight, considering she was the most beautiful thing he had.

  “Just remember to take it off before you shift,” he said, practical as ever and naturally ruining the chance to say something romantic or loving.

  She smiled. “And you.”

  He got one too – engraved but not as ornate as Christine’s. The sales girl expected him to get down on one knee and push the ring onto Christine’s finger. He just passed Christine the box while chastising the manager for their slow service. If that bothered Christine, she didn’t show it.

  “Mmm, it all looks good,” she exclaimed, poring over the menu.

  “Does it?” He gave her a helpless look.

  “Yes,” she chuckled. “I take it you don’t come to many places like this?”

  “I’m not used to restaurants with pictures of the food on the menus.”

  Christine tinkled with laughter. “You’ve lived a very sheltered life.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he chuckled in agreement.

  “Just go for a steak with all the trimmings – you’ll love it.”

  “I’m sure,” he agreed doubtfully.

  Christine laughed and gestured around them. “I used to waitress at one of these places when I was a teenager.”

  Harold spied one of the waitresses getting her ass pinched by a rowdy customer in a plaid shirt. “Indeed, I’m surprised your father allowed it.” He sure as hell would not allow Christine to work there.

  She shrugged. “He wasn’t keen, but I put my foot down – I wanted to earn my own money.”

  He harrumphed.

  “Really, it was okay, I got all the free onion rings I wanted – I ate tons of them. It’s probably why I didn’t date in high school.”

  Hmmm, perhaps he was wrong about her working there…

  “Though the chef was kind of a tool - he used to try to sell me pot every night and kept asking me if I wanted to go for a drive in his van. I was sixteen and he was like fifty.”

  He growled, and Christine patted his arm reassuringly, then she caught sight of her ring and smiled again.

  “What about you? Did you have a job folding towels at the club when you were a teenager?”

  He huffed. “No, after I shifted I started going to work with my father. When I wasn’t at school, I was working. I needed to start learning how to manage the pack affairs.”

  “Jeez, weren’t you thirteen?”

  “Indeed.”

  Christine blew out a breath. “No wonder you’re a workaholic – they started you far too young.”

  Harold rolled his shoulders. She didn’t seem particularly happy about that, and it bothered him that there was something about him she didn’t like.

  She ran a finger around the top of her water glass. “I’m not sure I’d want the same thing for my pup.”

  “I’m not sure I would either.”

  Christine watched him for a few moments. “Thank you for my ring; it’s beautiful.”

  “You are very welcome.”

  *

  Later, Harold did have some work to do when they got home, but he wasn’t leaving. He would do the work from his study. He looked so guilty when he told her he needed to work that she felt somewhat remorseful for making him feel bad.

  Christine told him it was fine and she meant it. Truly, she didn’t mind. It somehow felt nicer when he was at home working than when he was away working.

  She slipped into a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt and surfed the internet. She’d been bored and lonely all week – so why not do something about it.

  After a few hours, she made her way to the kitchen. Her back was slightly sore from sitting in the same position all afternoon and her stomach was starting to wake up and demand more food.

  Mmm, another grilled cheese maybe. Her hand hovered on the refrigerator, considering Harold. She hadn’t heard a peep out of him.

  She made her way to his study and hesitated outside. Would he mind her barging in? Would he see it as her invading his inner sanctum? Well, if he did, tough luck.

  Christine knocked on the door and walked in. “Hey.”

  Harold looked up and smiled warmly at her. Her insides turned gooey.

  “Hello,” he almost purred.

  He leaned back in his chair and motioned for her to sit down.

  “Have you almost finished your work?”

  “Almost. What have you been doing?”

  “Well, actually I’ve been looking for potential job opportunities.”

  She paused to look at him, wondering if he would have some objection to this. Her father, who she had always considered one of the most reasonable men on the planet, never wanted her to work, though that never stopped her, and she got the feeling Harold was more controlling than most men.

  “That’s great.”

  Christine blinked at him in surprised delight. “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “I was worried you wouldn’t want me to work,” she admitted.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. The whole… pups thing.” Maybe he wanted her barefoot and pregnant…

  He gave her an impatient look. “You should do what makes you happy.”

  “Thanks.”

  Even more impatience. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

  “You can just say you’re welcome, you know,” she teased.

  Harold paused and then relented. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m hungry, so I’
m making a grilled cheese. At the risk of annoying you, can I make you one too?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  *

  Harold gave Christine a gentle shake to wake her up. They had a late night watching movies and then, well, doing other more enjoyable things, and Christine was still tired. But he didn’t want to leave and abandon her without telling her. He did not really wish to go. Usually, he hated downtime – if he wasn’t working, he considered the time wasted. But the idea of spending the morning lazing in bed with his wife was infinitely more appealing than a two-hour meeting about zoning permits.

  “What?” she murmured. Her eyes opened to slits, and she peered at him.

  “I have to go to work,” he stated.

  Christine stretched, and the covers shuffled down her body, exposing her lush bare breasts. She hadn’t bothered dressing after they finished having sex. No, she fell asleep in his arms, and the soppy beast inside him watched her until he too finally succumbed to sleep.

  “S’okay,” she murmured, reaching out and patting his hand.

  He was a little disappointed to hear that.

  “You’ll be back soon, right?”

  “As soon as I can,” he said with feeling.

  Sleepily, she grasped his hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss.

  “See you soon,” she muttered before falling asleep again.

  Harold watched her for a few moments, pulled the covers over her and left, rubbing his fingers over the tingling spot on his hand where she kissed him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The snooty looking receptionist gave Christine a blank stare.

  “May I help you?” The female sounded doubtful that she could, or that she would.

  Getting past the security guard in Harold’s building was easy – he was a pack member who recognized her and nearly fell over himself to let her pass. But the receptionist on Harold’s floor seemed to be some kind of fox and wasn’t overly impressed by Christine’s jeans, sneakers, and sweatshirt.

  “Is Harold here?”

  The receptionist inhaled. “Are you referring to one of the Mr. Buchanans?”

  “Yes. Junior.” She added – definitely Mr. Buchanan Jr.

  The fox arched an eyebrow and told her in a disdainful voice that, “Mr. Buchanan is very busy, he is not able to meet with people who just show up at…”

  “Mrs. Buchanan!”

  Christine turned to see an older she-wolf hurrying her way. She was sure she was at the wedding, but couldn’t recall her name.

  “Umm, hi,” said Christine, a little embarrassed at not knowing who she was.

  The woman gave the fox shifter a significant look. “Patrice, this is Mrs. Buchanan – Mr. Buchanan Jr.’s wife.”

  The fox’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, I am so sorry…”

  Christine waved a hand dismissively as the woman started stammering – she looked like she had committed an atrocity!

  “Nothing to be sorry for. I was just hoping to see Harold.”

  “Of course,” said the older woman. “I’m Linda, his assistant; please come this way.”

  “Thank you.”

  Christine smiled at Patrice – who frankly looked like she wanted to die, and followed Linda. She paused when she spotted her father-in-law. Harold Sr. was perched on a young woman’s desk, laughing and chatting in a carefree way. He was so unlike his son that if it weren’t for their physical similarities, she would swear there was no way they were related. Harold’s brothers Jonathan and to some extent Arthur were much more like their father.

  She was considering calling out hello when she noticed him surreptitiously caressing the young woman’s breast. Christine quickly walked on – she did not want to get caught catching him doing that!

  Christine hurried after Linda who beamed at her before throwing open a door and ushering her into a massive office.

  “Linda,” growled a familiar voice. “I said…”

  “This way, Mrs. Buchanan,” interrupted Linda smugly, stepping aside so Harold could see her.

  Christine smiled awkwardly while her husband stared at her in astonishment.

  “Christine?”

  “Hi,” she squeaked, perhaps feeling this was a bad idea. They had just been getting on so well that she thought arriving at his office and asking him to lunch would be fun and spontaneous. She should have realized that Harold wouldn’t like those things.

  Harold dropped the piece of paper he was looking at and hurried towards her, worry etched on his face. “Christine, is everything okay?”

  “Yes, I just wondered if you wanted to get lunch together.”

  Harold stopped a foot from her and didn’t bother to hide the surprise on his face.

  “It’s fine if you’re too busy…” she trailed off, feeling more than a little foolish.

  Harold smiled slightly before a cold voice cut through the moment.

  “Harold is very busy,” sneered his father, strolling into the office.

  Harold reached out and clasped one of Christine’s hands, dragging her to his side, almost shielding her. It was a proprietorial move, as well as protective. Christine wondered why he would be this way in front of his own father.

  Harold Sr. pursed his lips at their clasped hands. “Harold, we have a meeting in half an hour. It’s already been rescheduled once.”

  Harold raised an eyebrow. “It was rescheduled because it clashed with my wedding,” he said dryly.

  Christine pressed her lips together at that, wanting to laugh at her father-in-law’s pomposity.

  “You do not have time to…”

  “Why not go to the executive dining room?” suggested Linda, cutting through Harold Sr. and earning herself a glare. “We have a dining room on the top floor,” she told Christine, “but the food is so good they are usually booked very far in advance.”

  “Oh, will we get seated?”

  Linda gave her a kindly, patient look. “Of course, they will always make room.”

  Harold gave her a strange look. Of course, they would – what was she thinking? Harold virtually owned the asses of everyone in the building – they would fall over themselves to make him happy. Maybe she was one of them, too.

  Harold Sr. didn’t look too pleased, but Harold moved to grab his jacket.

  “So that’s settled then,” said Linda with more than a little glee.

  *

  “I have two interviews,” Christine told him as she picked over her salad. She wasn’t overly impressed with the executive dining room. The menus didn’t even have pictures – so you couldn’t see what you were ordering! Plus, there were no fries or burgers on it – what was that about?

  “That’s wonderful,” said Harold with a smile.

  “One of them is an unpaid internship, and the other is just a part-time receptionist job,” she added. They weren’t fantastic jobs, but they were with design companies and may lead to other things.

  Harold shrugged. “Money isn’t an issue; you should choose the one you want.”

  “Well, let’s see if I do get offered something.”

  “I am sure you will.”

  “We’ll see,” she said modestly. She was sure her old boss would give her a good recommendation, but she wasn’t counting her chickens just yet. Though, she was excited about the prospect.

  “I spoke to my sister today,” she said. “Her baby’s due any day now. I’d like to go see her when it happens.” She looked up at him expectantly, unsure how he would feel about that.

  “Yes, of course,” said Harold amenably.

  “I could stay with my parents, and I wouldn’t be gone long – a few days perhaps…” She trailed off as Harold gave her a strange look. “What?”

  He frowned. “I will come with you.”

  Christine paused in pushing an olive to the edge of her plate. “You will?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Her cheeks heated slightly, and Harold’s face darkened. “Unless you
do not want me to come.”

  “No! I just assumed you’d be too busy.”

  “I’m sure I could make time. After all, it will be my niece or nephew, too.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, unexpectedly pleased to hear him say that.

  He wanted to make an effort to be part of her family. It kind of made her feel bad that she had taken to dodging his mother’s calls.

  “Christine,” he chided. “You don’t have to…”

  “We’ve been over this. Just say you’re welcome,” she cooed.

  Harold chuckled. “You are very welcome.”

  Christine leaned forward slightly and told him conspiratorially, “No offense, but I hate the food here.”

  “I am sorry I didn’t have more time to spare. Otherwise, you could have chosen the restaurant.”

  “My fault, I should have told you I was coming. I just thought it would be nice to have lunch together.” Coming to his office had been an impulse. She was at home, bored and she wanted company. No, she wanted Harold’s company.

  Harold placed a hand over hers. “This is nice.”

  It was too.

  *

  After such a pleasant lunch with her husband, Christine was only slightly dismayed as her father-in-law rushed to get in the elevator with her. She smiled at him politely and started fiddling with her phone, pretending to reply to a text message – in reality, she was just checking the weather.

  “About what you saw earlier,” he started without preamble.

  Christine gave him a blank, polite look, though she knew he meant the caress he had been giving that young woman. Apparently, he had seen her looking.

  Harold Sr. gave her a hard stare that said he didn’t believe her even for a second.

  Christine sighed. “It’s really none of my business.”

  But that didn’t stop him. “My wife and I have no such clause like you and Harold – we both can see whoever we want. We have an open relationship.”

  That would certainly explain the flirty looks Marguerite was throwing at her tennis instructor.

  “It’s really none…”

  “If you like, I’m sure our lawyer could amend your agreement so that you might also do the same.”

  Christine stared at him in horror. He was seriously suggesting that he help her to cheat on his son. Seriously! What kind of a man did that?