Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  She started to shake her head, to deny feeling anything other than normal maternal exhaustion and isolation. He’d asked for no lies. But the truth was sometimes too dark, too shameful to put into words. Swiping her hand across her mouth, she floundered for any other admission but that one.

  “It was really hard. I was a single mother but I was married, too.”

  It was a weak excuse and they both knew it. Silence didn’t fall. It exploded. There was only the crackle of the woodstove that seemed too loud. For minutes, they stared at each other. A tongue rolled around the inside of his cheek and he rubbed his palms up his thighs.

  “I wanted to be there. I’d have sold my soul to be there. But you acted like you didn’t want to be anywhere near me.”

  “You’re an adult. I had a baby in the NICU. Was I supposed to leave her alone?”

  “Newsflash, Jo.” He surged to his feet. “She was my baby, too.”

  “She needed me.”

  “I needed you!”

  Hot frustration boiled under her skin. “Are you seriously telling me you were jealous of a three pound baby who couldn’t breathe? I’m one person. There wasn’t enough of me to go around everyplace. I did what I had to do.”

  “Jealous? No. But it wasn’t just your life that was turned to shit, was it? It was mine, too. One minute, I had it all, the wife, the kid on the way, a job I loved where I was my own boss and then boom, it went to hell. I had to beg you to come to the hospital and even then, you couldn’t wait to leave.”

  “It wasn’t like I was on fucking vacation, Wade!”

  Bounding off the couch, she paced. The little cabin limited her path but her steps were brisk and powerful, even if trapped in a small space. Wade was too big. He sucked all the air out of the room and made it hard to breathe. Arms clamped across her stomach, she whipped away from the center of the room and stomped to the window.

  “Everything was a mess. Having preeclampsia was a mess. Having a baby two months early was a mess. Having an emergency C-section was a mess. Having a baby who was too little and too sick to hold was a mess.”

  His jaw worked furious, chewing on something he didn’t want to say. But he was playing this game, too. “Say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “You blame me.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  He made a noise like a buzzer on a game show. “Wrong answer. The truth, Jo. Remember the rules.”

  “That is the truth! It was an accident. You wrecked your truck. You were hurt. I understood that.”

  “Did you?” The quiet in his voice was more damning than a yell. “When I first woke up, you were there. But once they got my lung working and decided I was going to survive after all, you vanished. All the gentle touches, the stroking my hair, the quiet tears, they all disappeared. You didn’t even come when they put the pins in my leg.”

  “I did so. They’d already taken you into surgery by the time I got there. I didn’t have time to sit in the damned waiting room when Sadie needed me more. But I was there when you were in recovery. You don’t remember that, do you?”

  “No. I don’t remember any of that. But I do remember staring at the fucking TV and listening to my roommate fart and wondering what the hell was going through your mind, why you couldn’t take a measly hour to be with me after surgery. I remember hurting so bad I wanted to scream and half of it was just needing my wife to hold my hand and let me know everything was going to be all right.”

  The need was so great and the pain so ripe, the words almost leaped out of her mouth. I needed you to do that how many times and you weren’t there? Swallowing them, she shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

  “You could’ve. If you’d really wanted to be there, you would’ve been.”

  Josie escaped. The bathroom was miniscule, barely room to turn around in, but it had a lock. Shoulder blades pressed to the door, she fought everything running through her. Things she couldn’t name that stole her breath and sent needles through her chest.

  The cabin door slammed. There was the crunching of boots in the snow then the roar of his truck engine. Wade was like a tiger, a majestic animal meant for open spaces, not to be locked in a tiny cage. He needed escape when the walls closed in but never ran from a challenge. He’d come back in control and determined to battle this thing to the very end. That was one way there were different. She was the runner, not him. She burrowed deep in her comfortable little hole, only bolting when things go so intense they threatened to break her. Once she ran, she was gone, like a scared antelope leaving the meadows.

  Hands covering her face, Josie sank to floor and let the shaking take hold. This was so hard, so strange. They didn’t fight, didn’t argue over anything other than normal household stuff. He hated how anal she was over the bathroom and it irked her he couldn’t shave without splashing water everywhere. Sawdust and dirt clung to him when he came home from work and he left a trail of clutter behind him like a line of baby ducks. She couldn’t go to bed if there was laundry to be folded and put away or dishes in the sink.

  All that was minor. But the major stuff, they didn’t argue about that. They never had. And this by far was the most major thing in their lives.

  Butt numb, she climbed to her feet and ran water in the sink. It was ice cold, far colder than at home, drawn from the deep frozen land surrounding the well. It stung her face and hurt her hands but felt good against her flushed cheeks.

  The bathroom was too tiny to hide in for long. She checked dinner, paced, tried to read the best-seller she’d brought. In the end, she sat staring out the window, watching the wind send snow swirls skating across the ground like thin tornadoes. Her fingers pressed to her mouth. That kiss in the kitchen had sparked a hope that frightened her. It reminded her that they used to be so right together. Now that barely lit spark was gasping for air, desperate to grow and she didn’t know whether to fan it or smother it.

  How did you know when a last ditch effort was really just a futile motion? Was this Hail Mary Honeymoon too little too late?

  Chapter Four

  “I’m a fucking coward.”

  They hadn’t really needed more fuel for the generator but Wade had needed the escape. A twisting in his gut had spread upward until it encompassed his brain. A void stretched between them, and he didn’t know how concrete her bitterness had settled until now.

  Now he did. And it scared him shitless.

  Worse than a coward, he’d done the unthinkable.

  He’d taken Josie for granted.

  Taken his marriage for granted.

  The long driveway up to the cabin jutted off the main road with a sharp turn. He eased into that turn, then slowed to a stop, letting the truck idle while he stared at the mountains. Snow blanketed much of the highlands, casting a strange blue-gray light over most of the scenery. He wasn’t the hunter Mike was, although he’d gone a time or two before he’d gotten married. He couldn’t tell whether there was deer or whatever lurking in the woods. His mind was too focused on all the things he’d screwed up.

  Why had he let shit pile so deep? Why hadn’t he tried harder, put more effort into reaching her before this? When had he made the decision that Josie would just always be there? His fist banged on the steering wheel.

  “Asshole.”

  He’d taken the easy way out. Avoidance. Things had been hard for so long. Too many things had been unknown, uncertain and fragile and he hadn’t been able to focus on all of them. So he let Josie do her thing with Sadie, trusting she’d take care everything with her usual indomitable fervor. He devoted every ounce of willpower into healing, getting stronger and back to work. Never once did he wonder if it was too much on her. Selfishly, he thought only about himself.

  Ignorance was bliss they said but it had a hell of a recoil.

  He’d slapped blinders on and barreled straight ahead. Every bit of his strength, focus and time went into getting back on his feet. Everything in the periphery of his goal fell by the wayside, mainly Josie and h
is marriage. Naively, he’d thought things would calm down and they’d just fall back into a normal stride, get back all that time and closeness, content that they’d weathered the storm together. But they hadn’t been together, not really. Somehow, they’d been racing in different directions and now the gap was huge.

  That kiss in the kitchen had been too good. His entire soul had woken up and guzzled the taste of her kiss, drinking it in like water. He hadn’t known how dry he was. He missed sex. The troublesome pregnancy had limited them before and then after the wreck, his body ached too much. And his medication had screwed things up. He couldn’t have gotten a boner if he’d used tape and popsicle sticks.

  Granted, recently he’d had a lot of sex. But it was by himself in the shower. He’d tried a few times to get her interested, to let her know he wanted her back in their bed. Every time, she’d shut him down with a look. He’d comforted himself with the idea that all new parents’ sex lives suffered. He’d heard enough guys groan about it when their kids were little.

  Wind blew loose snow over the hood and it gathered on the windshield before melting into a wet smear. He flipped the wipers on low just for something to do. Hugging the mountaintop, the sun was an orange smudge. True darkness was still an hour or two away but night was poised to leap out and claim the mountain for several hours. Somehow, it felt like something precious was dying.

  Jerking the gearshift, he gunned the engine and headed up the drive. If she wanted to sleep on the damned couch, fine. He wasn’t going to beg. But they were going to fight this shit out and get down to the root of things before midnight hit. Tomorrow… well, tomorrow would have to wait and see what panned out. But tonight he’d push her so damn hard she cracked if he had to.

  He filled the generator then strode back to the doorway, kicking snow off his boots against the doorjamb. Framed in the window, Josie dried a plate with a paper towel. Shit. He hadn’t packed any kitchen towels. Realizing there was even more he hadn’t gotten right sent iron into his jaw. How much else could he fuck up?

  “Dinner’s ready.” She didn’t look at him as she put the cleaned plate into the single cupboard.

  “Did you already eat?”

  “Yeah. Want me to fix you a plate?”

  “I’m not hungry.” His jacket zipper whizzed loud in the still room. “I called your mom. Sadie discovered chicken nuggets, thanks to your dad. Apparently she calls them ‘sicken’ and ate four of them. She got some kind of princess toy and has been carrying it around all day.”

  A tiny smile bowed her mouth. “Damn it, I was trying to avoid the whole fast food trap as long as I could.”

  “You know your father and burger joints. Be glad he didn’t take her to Hooters.”

  “I’d kill him and he knows it.” She tore a shiny piece of tin foil from the roll. “I’ll turn the pan off and cover it, but let it cool on the stove in case you change your mind.”

  “I don’t want to lose you.”

  The sentence flew from his mouth without thought. Her hand twitched on the pan but she didn’t slow her movements, crimping the edges around the rim.

  “Say something, Jo. Give me something, anything. I have no idea what’s going on in your head right now.”

  For a minute, she didn’t look away from the silver foil. Then she opened the cabinet and took out a bottle of Mike’s favorite bourbon. There were no shot glasses but she poured a small amount into two small plastic cups and handed one to him.

  “You really need alcohol to talk to me?”

  “Need? No, but I haven’t had a drink since I got pregnant so I figure it’s overdue. Cheers.”

  She held up the plastic tumbler, waiting for him to touch his cup to hers. His eyes locked with hers as he raised his cup. “To us.”

  “To us,” she echoed.

  They both sipped. The bourbon was midgrade but it hit his empty stomach like battery acid. Josie coughed then swallowed air.

  “Damn. Out of practice.”

  He grabbed the bottle and headed into the tiny living area. “Let’s get you back in the game. Maybe the bourbon will help.”

  “Can’t hurt, right?”

  Bourbon couldn’t hurt them, only they could do that. With words and admissions and fears and a host of other things. But all of them were better than sticking their heads in the sand any longer. He tossed the last bit of his drink down the hatch, gritting his teeth against the burn, then added more to his cup. The room was borderline hot so he didn’t bother checking the woodstove. Whatever she’d added would last for hours yet.

  Josie curled in the corner of the couch and he deliberately took the other corner, forcing proximity. She tucked her feet under her and rolled the cup between her palms before taking another small sip. There was no more coughing.

  “Getting used to it?”

  A shrug lifted her slim shoulder. “I guess I’d forgotten what it tasted like. I didn’t even have any wine at our wedding.”

  No, she hadn’t. She’d been three months pregnant by then. He’d wanted to bring champagne to her hospital room after she delivered Sadie but, well, that hadn’t happened. He took another drink.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married.”

  His head yanked up. “Of course we should have.”

  Her mouth was red, the color brightened by the liquor, but her lips were stiff. She stared into the cup as if looking for answers. “Things just flew by so fast, you know? Maybe we jumped the gun, should’ve waited until after she was born to do it. Maybe we weren’t ready.”

  “I was ready the night I met you.”

  “Yeah, I figure that out.” Tipping her glass, she downed the remaining bourbon. “Do you even realize you never proposed?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “No, you told me we were getting married.”

  She was right. Damn. He’d come back to his place after work and found her on the couch, her eyes swollen and tear tracks on her cheeks. He’d freaked, thinking something bad had happened.

  “I told you I was pregnant and you stood there with your eyes like saucers and your mouth hanging open. I was afraid you’d be mad or something. We’d only been together a couple months then.”

  He hadn’t been angry. He’d been shocked. They’d used condoms. Most of the time. But once his immediate surprise had worn off, the biggest wave of happiness he’d ever felt washed over him. Whopping like an idiot, he scooped her up and spun her around the room until she laughed with him. Then dropped to his knees and kissed her still flat little belly. He loved her and she was having his baby.

  “We have to get married. Today.”

  “Today? Are you crazy? It’s almost six o’clock. We can’t get married today.”

  “Okay, tomorrow.” Jumping to his feet, he’d wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, trying to brand his joy onto her skin.

  She’d pulled away, laughing. “No. I have to tell my parents and get some time off and I don’t want a courthouse wedding. Just something small.” Her eyes went round. “Oh, God, Wade, I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a mommy.”

  “And I’m going to marry you, darlin’.” His hand dropped low and he spread his fingers above her navel almost as wide as the grin that had spread across his face. “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

  Two weeks later, in a church basement and with nobody but their families and closest friends, they added Mr. and Mrs. to their titles. Now they were truly Mommy and Daddy but they were having a major issue with Husband and Wife.

  He added more liquor to Josie’s cup and another finger to his own. “Okay, you’re right. I started fucking up way back then. Is that a deal breaker here? Does it make our wedding any less binding than if I had proposed?”

  “No.” She settled deeper into the corner. “But maybe if we’d have waited—”

  “Nothing would’ve changed you going into labor early. Which means you still would’ve called me and I still would’ve gotten in the accident. It really wouldn’t have changed anything.”

&nbs
p; “True.” She darted a glance at him before pressing the cup to her mouth. “But maybe this part wouldn’t have been so messy.”

  The bourbon churned in his belly but he forced his spine to curve against the couch back. “Messy how? You mean ending it?”

  A short nod dipped her chin. There was only one lamp in the living room, a huge ugly thrift store thing with a massive orange shade. It diffused the light but couldn’t mask the paleness in her face. She’d tied her hair back in a ponytail but it had loosened, spilling stray hairs along her shoulders and against her cheeks. The pale brown color always reminded him of his favorite beer, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate that comparison so he’d never told her.

  It sounded like a shallow guy-thing but it wasn’t, at least not to him. He liked watching the beer in his mug shift to orange and amber, brown and gold. Her hair was the same way, catching the light in any situation differently. In the summer, it was like a fawn’s coat. In the fall, it grew darker, to the shade expensive maple wood. In the sunlight, it had a golden sheen and the moonlight brought out layers of mahogany.

  She’d never dyed it as far as he knew and he hoped she never would. Even when time started threading silver into it, he wanted to watch it, imagined it would be like a mink’s coat. Disgusted with his own flowery thoughts, he swallowed a mouthful of bourbon. If they separated, he’d never see it, at least not like he wanted. Someone else might be there, watching it change, running it through his hands, feeling it tickle his back in the middle of the night.

  “Why’d you move into Sadie’s room?”

  He must have startled her because she looked at him so quickly her hair whipped out behind her. Long lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. A exhale broke free as she sank even deeper into the cushion, as if hoping she could disappear.

  “It was just easier. I was afraid I wouldn’t hear the oxygen monitor go off or that I’d bump into you if I rolled over. You still had the leg braces on then and I didn’t want to hurt you. The meds made you so sleepy I didn’t want to bother you.”