Bridget nodded. “Good.” She stuck her hand out. “Kincaid or not, I guess you’re about to be part of the family. We should get to know each other. I’ll give you my cell number in case you need anything.”
Ivy tried not to let her mouth hang open at Bridget’s sudden acceptance. She couldn’t imagine a Kincaid saying the same thing to a Merrow. Didn’t mean she trusted the woman yet, but she shook Bridget’s hand anyway. Of course, neither she nor her brother knew exactly what this marriage to Ivy meant, but they’d find out as soon as the deal was sealed per her father’s orders. Remorse built in her belly. Neither Hank nor his sister deserved the trick Clemens was about to play on their pack. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
Ivy’s stomach growled.
Bridget grinned and hooked a thumb toward the kitchen. “Go appreciate the food I brought before it gets any colder.” She nodded at Hank as she stood. “You, too. Come on, Ivy, I’ll give you my number in the kitchen.”
The three of them headed in that direction, and a few minutes later, Ivy had Bridget’s cell number programmed into her phone, Bridget had left, and Ivy was chowing down on the best lukewarm bacon cheeseburger she’d eaten in her life.
She swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “Your sister’s nice.”
“Did you expect her not to be?” Hank downed three fries at once. “Other than her threat to hurt you if you hurt me, of course.”
“That’s just sibling love.” Ivy remembered that, but since her youngest brother, Sam, had fallen under their father’s sway, he’d drifted away from her. She tucked a piece of lettuce back under the bun. “I’m a Kincaid. I expected to be treated like one.”
“That’s where you went wrong. Assuming we’d act the way your family would.”
She nodded. “That’s for sure.”
Hank was gruff, but that was no big deal. Sure, Bridget had started out skeptical, but who wouldn’t? And after Hank had told her how things were going to be, she’d become friendly. Yes, it could just be a front, but she’d seemed genuine.
The fact that Hank and his sister were so accepting of Ivy made it that much harder for her to keep quiet about the truth behind the marriage. But Ivy’s father had sworn her to secrecy with the kind of threats that made Bridget’s seem like compliments. Ivy glanced at the five on her wrist, struggling not to let her thoughts go to a very dark place.
“What does that mean?”
She looked up. “What?”
“The five on your wrist.”
She turned her wrist against her thigh. “Nothing.” Nothing she could tell him about.
He didn’t seem like he believed her answer, but he didn’t press her further. “You okay?”
She forced a smile. “Great.”
He grunted. “We should go. I need to get back to the station.”
“And I need to get groceries.” She jumped to her feet and started cleaning up.
He grabbed her arm, the touch of his rough hand almost paralyzing her. “You don’t have to do that.”
She swallowed down the panic sparked by his touch, knowing he’d meant only to catch her attention. Not start her heart revving like a big block engine. Breathe. “I don’t have to do what?”
“Clean up. You’re a guest.”
She focused on his words, on his voice—anything but his hand on her arm. “I’m going to be your wife.”
He shook his head as his thumb made a lazy arc on her skin. The panic was gone, replaced by the kind of heat that built low in her body. His brows furrowed. “Still doesn’t mean you have to wait on me hand and foot.”
Something inside her melted a little, and her breath caught in her throat for a very different reason. “I don’t mind,” she said softly. Her instincts told her that this man was nothing like her father. Not someone to fear.
Not entirely. He was still an alpha. Maybe not in charge of his own pack yet, but that day would come. He could change her future. Or ruin it, but that seemed less likely the more she got to know him. She, on the other hand, might truly ruin his future. And she was regretting that with greater intensity every passing second.
“Fair enough.”
But he didn’t move his hand, and her pulse refused to drop down to a normal rate. Damn the full moon’s pull.
He finally let her go, tipping his head slightly. “Do I scare you?”
She laughed nervously. “No.” Yes. Because what if…she actually fell for him? That scared the hell out of her.
He stood, and the space between them disappeared. “I would never hurt you.”
He towered over her. The instinct to back up kicked in hard. Crowding him in public was one thing, in private it was a whole different story. Bravado was easy to come by with an audience. Still, she refused to move. She didn’t want to show him the fear that had been beaten into her. He was not her father. She opened her mouth and tried to find an answer that wasn’t a lie, but she couldn’t.
Gently, he lifted her chin and looked her in the eyes. “You don’t know that, do you?”
She slanted her gaze away.
“I give you my word. Can you accept that?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He took his hand away. The loss of contact should have soothed her. It didn’t. “I don’t expect you to trust me overnight.”
She hadn’t imagined he’d be this understanding, this tender. “Okay.”
“I’m sure your father told you differently all your life, but being a Merrow doesn’t mean I’m a monster.”
She smiled without effort and met his gaze. “I’m figuring that out.”
The real monster was Clemens Kincaid.
Hank smiled, and a flash of the wildness within him danced in his eyes, turning them feral gold. A muscle in his jaw twitched. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers, hard and fast and possessive in its intent.
Her body responded with a sudden craving for more and the awakening of her own wildness. Just as she was about to reach for him, he pulled back.
He shook his head, breathing hard. “I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.”
“No, it was…fine.” It was so much better than fine. The fact that she could string words together into a coherent sentence was a miracle. “We’re going to be married. Kissing is the least of our issues.”
“I thought you were worried I might try to get you into bed.”
She swallowed. “Kissing and sleeping together are two very different things.” Although right now, she could see how one would lead to the other very quickly with a man who made her feel this deliciously light-headed after one kiss.
He grunted. The gold in his eyes was gone, and the sheriff was back in control. “Get whatever you need. I’ll be in the car.”
And with that, he went out the garage door. A few seconds later, the engine started.
She slumped against the counter and took a few breaths in an effort to calm her heart, which was now pounding all over again. This man was nothing like what she’d expected. He was So. Much. Better.
She hadn’t prepared for this. For wanting to be in his arms, for enjoying the way he kissed, for even being kissed. For the slim possibility that she might…fall…in love.
Outside of her father, nothing in her life had ever scared her quite so much. She couldn’t let her heart get involved, couldn’t let herself care. She’d be the one who ended up getting hurt. Especially when Hank found out the truth.
She grabbed the money he’d laid out on the counter, tucked it safely into her bra and left the house. She slipped into the squad car, front seat this time. The dash was covered in police equipment, a laptop on a movable arm, a radio, a mounted camera and some other things she didn’t recognize.
She clicked her seat belt into place and folded her hands in her lap while Hank drove. They were both wolves, both equipped with the same sense of smell. There was no way either of them could deny the pheromones they were each giving off. The kiss had started something. Or unleashed something. It was like a bad cas
e of full moon fever. Maybe the worst case.
And yet they were both quiet on the way to the grocery store. As if that could stop whatever they’d just started. She kept replaying the kiss and he…she had no idea what went on in his head. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about the kiss. Maybe he was thinking about the next person he was going to arrest.
He pulled up and idled out in front of the Shop & Save. “You have everything you need?”
She nodded and unclipped her seat belt.
“You don’t have a purse.”
“I don’t need one.” She opened the door and climbed out, in desperate need for air untainted by Hank Merrow’s male scent.
“Where’s the money I gave you?”
She leaned back into the car. “In my bra.”
His gaze went right to her cleavage, then he jerked his head away like he’d accidentally stared into the sun and suddenly remembered it could make him go blind. “Oh.”
She grinned.
He swallowed, eyes straight ahead. “Call me when you’re done.”
“Don’t you want to know where my cell phone is?” It was in her back pocket, along with her ID.
“No.”
“See you later.” She closed the door and gave him a little wave.
A couple of people gave her curious looks as the squad car pulled away. People talked in small towns. She could only guess what stories they’d be sharing over dinner tonight about the tattooed woman getting out of the sheriff’s car. Handsome Hank was going to get a rep. With a smirk on her face, she grabbed a cart and headed into the store.
She’d been given the nickname Poison in high school. Tuning out gossips and bullies was nothing new to her. It was how she’d survived her childhood and her father’s endless berating.
She took a second to suss out the unfamiliar layout of the store, then pushed the cart toward produce. Hank said he’d eat anything, but she knew how to cook for men. Especially shifter men whose metabolisms meant they were always hungry. Meat, potatoes, sweets and beer.
Red skin potatoes were on sale, but russets were the best for baking. She weighed the choices until she remembered she had three hundred dollars to shop with. Hank didn’t seem like the kind who cared if she used coupons or not, either, and what mattered most right now was making him happy.
She got a small bag of each.
Shopping without a list was tricky, but she mentally planned a week’s worth of suppers, with leftovers that could be had for lunch and then some basics for breakfast. By the time she was done, her cart was full and she felt like nothing had been forgotten.
Including the dinner she planned to make him tonight. Steak, baked potatoes with all the fixings and chocolate cake made with her secret ingredient: coffee instead of water. Not that secret maybe, but still delicious.
She got in the checkout line and dialed his number.
“Merrow.” His gravelly voice filled her ear and raised happy little goose bumps on her arms. Okay, her hormones really needed to chill out.
“Hi, it’s Ivy. I’m in the checkout lane.”
“Be there in five.”
“See you then.”
He grunted in acknowledgment and hung up.
She tucked her phone into her back pocket as the line moved forward. It took her a second to get her cart going, too long, apparently, for whoever was driving the cart behind her. It bumped her. She turned to see who the responsible party was.
“Sorry about that,” the older woman clutching the cart’s handle said. “It got away from me.”
Not likely, but Ivy let it go. “It’s all right.”
“Say,” the woman continued. “Didn’t the sheriff drop you off?”
Small towns never disappointed. Ivy squinted at the woman. “Is that who that was?”
Confusion clouded the woman’s face.
Ivy turned back around, pushing her cart up to the conveyer. She went to work unloading her groceries and humming Going To The Chapel while smiling to herself.
“Paper or plastic?” the cashier asked.
Crap. She didn’t have any canvas bags. “Plastic. You have a recycling bin for those where I can bring them back?”
The woman nodded. “Up front.”
“Okay, plastic is fine then.”
“That’s very conscientious of you,” the woman behind Ivy chimed in, her cart still following way too close. “Not many young folks these days care about the environment.”
Ivy leaned toward the woman. “You know who else loves the environment?”
The woman grinned, apparently tickled to finally have gotten a conversation going. “Who?”
“The sheriff,” Ivy whispered.
The woman’s smile flattened and she hmphed out a little sigh.
Ivy went back to her groceries, doing nothing to hold back her smirk.
The cashier rang up the last item. “Two hundred and thirty-eight dollars and seventeen cents. Will that be cash or credit?”
“Cash.” Ivy dug the three bills out of her bra, earning a soft, disapproving gasp from Cart Woman, and paid. She waited for her change, then stuffed that into the pocket of her cut offs. Transaction completed, she pushed her cart out of the air conditioned store and into the warm Georgia day.
Hank was already there on the curb, leaning against the squad car looking exceptionally handsome in his uniform and permanent scowl. He looked climbable. Wow, she needed to run some of this energy off and bad.
He peeled off the side of the car and helped her load the bags into the trunk. “I’d ask if you found everything but judging from the bags, you bought the whole store.”
That familiar twinge of panic returned. Had she spent too much? She found her bravado. “If you don’t like what I bought, you can do your own shopping next time.”
He looked at her. “I was kidding.”
“Oh. Right.” She laughed, feeling a little sheepish. “Yeah, I bought a lot. Sorry.”
“If anyone’s going to apologize, it’s me. I had nothing in the house. You fixed that. Thanks.”
He opened the car door for her. She got in, then he went around to his side.
As soon as he was in and his door was shut, she dug the change from her pocket and held it out to him. “Here’s what’s left over.”
“Keep it. You might need it for something else.”
She hesitated, not quite sure what to make of that, then stuffed the bills and change back in her pocket. “Okay. I’ll keep it for household stuff.”
“Use it for whatever. I don’t care.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
She turned toward the window so he couldn’t see her face. He was kind, generous, earnest…he was the polar opposite of most of the men she’d grown up with. Even if he’d been hideous, which he so wasn’t, she’d be worried about falling for him.
Hell, she was already falling for him.
She closed her eyes and took a few breaths. This was bad. The kind of bad that wasn’t going to be fixed by her splitting as soon as the deal was done. No, these were the sorts of feelings that settled into genuine heartache and a lifetime of regret.
She had to call home. Had to talk to Charlie. Had to remind herself why she was doing this.
Or she was going to turn tail and run.
Something was up with Ivy. Something was unsettling her. Hank didn’t need his sheriff instincts or military training to figure that out. Maybe it was just because she was in a strange town, about to marry a strange man from the family who’d been feuding with her family since before either of them was born.
That was enough to upset anyone. Hell, it upset him for a second or two, but women attached emotion to everything. To him this marriage was a business transaction. One he hadn’t given much thought to, although he’d known it was a possibility since he’d understood his place as the pack leader’s firstborn. Clearly an oversight on his part. This marriage was going to last the rest of his life. He would have to find a way to make it work.
And he knew en
ough to know that making it work meant keeping Ivy happy. Happy wife, happy life was a saying for a reason.
But whatever was going on with her now was her business. She’d come to terms with the marriage in her own time. If she didn’t, she’d be miserable for the rest of her life no matter what he did. With that in mind, he let her be. Suspects he could interrogate all day long. But a woman like Ivy was a complicated creature beyond his ken. Actually, most women were. His mother, aunt and sister included.
He pulled into the driveway and hit the button to raise the garage door. After parking, he got out and opened Ivy’s door for her, then popped the trunk and grabbed two big handfuls of bags. No rat poison in any of them that he could see, so that was a good sign.
He went through the garage, leaving the house door open for her. As he set the bags on the kitchen counter, the knowledge that he’d have to leave her in the house alone became apparent.
What other choice did he have? Bring her to the station? And have her do what? Sit in his office for the rest of the day like she was a child to be watched? Make her fair game for one of Birdie’s interrogations? Neither one of them wanted that.
He sighed. This would be their first experiment in trust.
He almost bumped into her on his way out for a second load of groceries.
“Sorry.” She quickly got out of his way.
“No, you go.” He moved to the side, watching her go past. For a woman with so much outward confidence, she had a wariness about her that was baffling. Was that Clemens’ doing? Had he demanded a level of deferential treatment that had shaped her whole life? Hank set the bags on the counter and waited until she came back. “Why don’t you start unpacking and I’ll bring the rest in?”
“Okay.” She tucked a strand of blue-black hair behind one ear adorned with a silver hoop, then went to work unloading the goods.
It only took him one more trip to bring the rest of the bags in. The counters were full. “You need anything else? I have to get back to the station.”
She shut the fridge. “I think I’m good. I have plenty to keep me busy until you come home for dinner. You will be coming home for dinner, won’t you?”
The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) Page 5