by Sara Dailey
“You know, that was supposed to be your cue to move along.”
He slightly tilted his head to the side and playfully nudged me with his elbow. “Well, I’ve never been real good with cues. Just ask the lead singer in my band.”
“I see. That explains a lot actually. And yes, for the record, my friend is a girl. Not that it matters,” I teased as I continued walking and scanning the crowd in search of my domestic-loving partner in crime.
Paul followed alongside, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he looked around as if he would actually be able to spot a girl that he’d never seen.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I asked, popping my knuckles yet again.
“Your friend, of course. And maybe some funnel cake.” As if on cue, a funnel cake stand came into view, and he tilted his head in its direction. “See, it’s meant to be. How ’bout it? Want to share one? My treat.”
“Well, if it’s meant to be, I guess I can’t say no, now can I? But I should warn you. I can do some serious damage to a funnel cake.”
He pulled his hand out of his pocket, grabbed mine, and pulled me in the direction of the stand. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
Hand in hand, we stood in line for the deep-fried dessert, and for some reason that I couldn’t explain, I didn’t pull my hand away this time. Instead, I let myself enjoy the odd connection we seemed to share. I just hoped Tiffany didn’t decide to show back up and catch me red-handed. I wasn’t sure I could explain since I didn’t really understand it myself.
Just as promised, Paul treated me to a funnel cake, and we headed over to a patch of grass so we could sit down and enjoy the powdered sugar–covered monstrosity. After a few failed attempts with a plastic fork, we both set utensils aside and dug in with our fingers. It only took a few minutes to devour the entire thing, and once the plate was empty we laughed about the mess we had managed to make.
I held both hands up and said, “I think we’re going to need some napkins.”
“Napkins? We don’t need no stinkin’ napkins. Betcha I can lick mine clean before you can.”
“You’re on,” I countered, and without warning I began quickly licking away the sugary mess from my fingers.
With his eyes glued to mine, Paul did the same, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun. Had I ever? I’d always been so worried about what everyone else thought of me. As the enforcer’s daughter and then the future alpha’s girlfriend I’d never really gotten to just be me, and it kind of broke my heart to think that I might never get to feel this way again.
Seconds later, he shouted, “Done!” and raised his hands in victory.
With several fingers still to go, I shrugged and said, “I guess that means you win.”
“So what’s my prize?”
“Prize? Who said anything about a prize?”
He picked up the empty plate, stood, and then held out his hand to help me up. Once I was on my feet and standing directly in front of him, he stepped toward me and said, “There has to be a prize. It’s like a rule. Every contest needs a prize.”
I watched him lick the last bit of sugar off his lips, and butterflies stirred in my stomach as I imagined what it would feel like to push up on my tiptoes and close the last bit of space between us. With his lips only a breath away, I’d never felt more drawn to anyone in my life. I wanted to taste him, to have his lips collide with mine and kiss me until we were gasping for air.
“Well?” The sound of his voice interrupted my fantasy.
“Well what?” I asked, trying desperately to still my racing heart.
“My prize? How about your phone number?”
Shit! So not an option. I glanced down at my watch and looked around at the thinning crowd. “You know, we should probably go wash our hands, and then I really need to find Tiffany.”
He let me change the subject without question, and I was filled with relief…at first. But as I washed my hands in the restroom and glanced up into the mirror, regret crept its way into my heart. What if I never saw him again? It would be for the best, and in my mind, I knew that, but my heart constricted at the thought of this guy walking out of my world forever.
I left the restroom knowing that this night would soon end, but I smiled through my sadness when Paul wrapped his arm around my waist. “Where to, Lillian Michaels?”
We searched the entire fairgrounds, but Tiffany was nowhere in sight and I began to wonder if she had left me there. “I think I’ll just wait by the front gate. I’m sure she will show up soon.”
He checked his watch and said, “It’s almost closing time. Come on, I’ll wait with you. If she doesn’t show, I’ll give you a ride home.”
As we headed toward the gate, I racked my brain for any viable excuse to take a cab. There was no way I could let him take me home. I could only pray that Tiffany wouldn’t leave me stranded in Red Ridge with no way home.
We sat down against the entrance gate, and it wasn’t long before a very angry Tiffany was heading our way. Her eyes landed on Paul. She took a moment to give him an appraising look before she turned to me and ranted, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you for like an hour.”
At the same time, Paul and I stood up and dusted off our clothes.
“I’ve been looking for you too. Where did you run off to earlier?”
She let out a disgusted sigh. “Don’t ask. This night was a total bust. Let’s get out of here.”
My gut twisted at the thought of saying goodbye to Paul. “Hey, I’ll meet you at the car. Okay, Tiff?”
Her attention shifted between Paul and me, and with a knowing nod she made her way through the parking lot.
I just stood there speechless. My heart constricted at the thought of never seeing him again. He was practically a stranger, but I wanted to latch on to Paul Wright and never let go because it killed me to think that when I walked away tonight, this perfect guy who made me feel smart and funny and beautiful, and wanted, would be nothing more than a memory.
I watched as Paul grabbed a flyer off the gate. He turned it over, pulled out a Sharpie from his pocket and scribbled something across the page. Then he folded up the paper and said, “If you won’t give me yours, at least you’ll have mine. You know, just in case you want to call. That can be my prize.”
As I took the paper, our hands touched and he gently pulled me toward him. Every cell in my body was begging him to kiss me, but I was simultaneously struck with panic at the thought that he might.
His lips almost touched mine before he whispered, “Good night, Lillian Michaels.” Then he turned around and left me standing there, watching him as he walked out of my life.
It kind of felt like he took a little piece of me with him, leaving behind a hole inside that would forever remain empty because I’d never know what might have been.
Chapter 8
My fantastically chaotic dream filled with random visions of swimming pools, guitars, and funnel cakes ended with Marcus’s surprise appearance. How Marcus ended up there I had no idea, but his face in the midst of the festival shot me out of my bed and filled me with nervous energy.
I wanted to crawl back into bed and get a few more hours sleep before I was forced to get ready for Marcus’s ceremony, but I knew my body wouldn’t allow it. I slipped on my flip-flops, stopped by the bathroom, and snuck my way downstairs to the backdoor.
I unlocked the mudroom door and propped it slightly open before stripping down and taking wolf form. This is what I needed to burn off some energy, a good, long run. I took off out my backdoor and ran as fast as my four legs would go down the road to the lake. Only then did I slow my pace. The lake was one of my favorite places to think, but today I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel.
I stretched my legs, my back, my neck, and shook out my fur before sitting back and taking a deep breath of the clean morning air. Once my lungs were full, and my body felt awake, I took off on my u
sual route.
I tried to clear my mind of all my troubles: Marcus, the wedding, my attraction to Paul, everything. I focused on the slight burn in my muscles and the sights and sounds of the forest around me. Oddly enough, it was only in times like this that I really felt like a werewolf. I’d never admit it out loud, mostly because my perfect werewolf mother would kill me, but I’d always felt more human than wolf. I couldn’t explain it. I’d just always felt different, but it wasn’t like I could talk to anyone about it. They’d think I was insane, and I was starting to think that they would probably be right. Why else would I be lusting after a hot human bass player in a punk band?
By the time I made it back home, I was feeling much better. The itchy, nervous feeling under my skin had subsided, and I was able to relax in a hot bath. I took my time getting ready for the ceremony, knowing that I needed to look my best since all eyes were going to be on the “happy couple.”
When I emerged from my bathroom, I saw that my mom had laid out a few dress choices for today. I was surprised that she even gave me options and didn’t just pick one out for me. After careful consideration, I decided on the simple, light-blue sheath dress and black strappy sandals. I put my hair up, leaving just a few strands down by my face, and then stood back to look at myself in the mirror. Who I saw didn’t feel much like me, but she did look like the perfect alpha’s wife.
Damn, Mom is scary good.
This was the first alpha ceremony that I had ever been to, so I didn’t have anything to compare it with, but in my opinion it was a bit over the top. All the important families had a role, and I soon learned that my duty was to stand by Marcus but noticeably off to the side. Of course, my role didn’t require me to say anything.
After the official ceremony there was a dinner and some dancing. Marcus, always the showman, turned on the charm and worked the room in true alpha form. He even had me fooled for a second. If only he were like that all the time, maybe I wouldn’t be dreading August so much.
I watched as Marcus danced with several girls from his pack—not once with Noel, I might add. Then Marcus and I sat alone at a table in the front of the room, and every time someone would come to congratulate him, he would place his hand on mine, just long enough for them to notice.
Finally, the party ended and it was time to leave. I was dead on my feet from smiling brightly and pretending to be perfect. But just as I was telling the Walkers what a fabulous ceremony it was, Mrs. Walker cut in and said, “No dear, you can’t go yet. We have a surprise for you. An early wedding gift, if you will.”
I looked over to Marcus, and he just shrugged. I didn’t know why I even bothered looking to him for answers. He wouldn’t give them to me anyway.
My parents said their goodbyes, and I could tell by the way my mom hesitated she was hoping for an invitation to witness the big gift, but it didn’t come. Marcus, his parents and I left the lodge and got into Mr. Walker’s car. Marcus didn’t say a word as we drove the short distance to the end of the lake. When the car stopped, we all got out and stood in the driveway of one of the most beautiful homes on the estate.
“For you both,” Mr. Walker said, giving us each a key to the house.
A house? They’re giving us a house?
My anxiety rose to an all-time high, and I didn’t know what to say. It would make a breathtaking home, huge, grand, absolutely gorgeous. But it felt more like a cage, and I’d be its prisoner, trapped inside, for better or worse, living a life that I didn’t want with a man who didn’t want me.
“We are so happy for you. We want your married life to start in this beautiful home,” Mrs. Walker said, coming to stand by me. “I cannot wait until that house is filled with my rambunctious grandkids.”
Grandkids? Holy Mother of God! Grandkids?
“It’s amazing. Thank you,” I said, finally finding the words, but my voice cracked and it felt like any minute my legs were going to give out. A full-on panic attack just might be on the horizon, especially if Mrs. Walker mentioned babies again.
“You two go on in. I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and furnished a few of the rooms for you,” Mrs. Walker added.
“Of course we don’t mind, Mom,” Marcus said.
Mr. Walker ushered us to the door and told us to take our time and look around. They left us there alone to face our soon-to-be reality.
Marcus, without a word, opened the front door and stepped aside to let me walk in first. The house was truly beautiful: high ceilings, beautiful furniture; even a picture of the two of us taken over the holidays was framed and hung on the wall.
I set my key on the table in the entryway and walked down the hall. I opened one of the doors to find what was to be our bedroom, and I wanted to cry. It was stunning. It deserved to belong to a couple that truly loved each other.
I turned to leave but Marcus blocked my way. I could see it in his eyes that he was feeling the same way, but I knew by now he would never admit to it. I walked around him and up the stairs to find another room completely furnished.
Seeing this room stole my breath away and filled my eyes with tears. His mother had completely decorated and furnished a nursery. It was all too much. Finding out that our relationship was basically set up, that our marriage was arranged, that Marcus didn’t love me, knowing now that I didn’t love him was just too much. I sat on the floor and sobs wracked me. This was my life. I was going to marry Marcus. I was going to have his children. I would never truly love a man, and one would never really love me.
“Over the top, right?” Marcus said, kneeling before me. I looked at him through my tears and forced myself up off the floor. We were both stuck, trapped in this impossible situation. I wanted to tell him that he deserved to be happy, that I deserved to be happy, but that conversation was played out. It would only end with us fighting anyway, so what was the point? Instead, I turned and walked away.
I was mentally and emotionally exhausted by the time I got home and planned to shut myself away in my room, but of course Mom stayed up to hear all the details.
“So, what was the big surprise?” she asked as soon as I walked in.
I put my purse down and counted to ten before I tuned in to my giddy-schoolgirl act, turned to my mother and gushed, “Oh my God, Mom! It’s a house! The biggest on the estate. You and Dad just have to go see it tomorrow. I’m going to run upstairs right now and call Mrs. Walker to thank her again. I can’t believe it! ’Night, Mom!” Then I took off like a bat out of hell before she saw through my façade.
“Oh, that’s fabulous, honey! I can’t wait to go see your new house,” my mom called out as I ran up the stairs to my room.
As I lay on my bed, my thoughts surprisingly weren’t on the horrible day I had just experienced. Instead I was thinking about eyes the color of swimming pools, a voice that caused my insides to quiver, and the folded piece of paper with a telephone number on it in my drawer.
I’d only had one real boyfriend in my life, but I wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to the rules of dating. I knew it was too soon to call him. Still, that didn’t stop me from reaching for his number. I stared at the messy script on the neon-green slip of paper. I held on to that paper, folding and unfolding it, setting it down and picking it back up, until I decided that I was nowhere near cool enough to wait.
My hands clenched the paper so tightly that my knuckles were white as I considered what this one decision could set in motion. I ignored all the rational parts of my brain warning me not to do this. For once in my life, I needed to do something just for me. Something crazy. Something completely irrational.
I picked up my phone, held my breath, and dialed his number.
Chapter 9
Turning into the parking lot of a trendy little store called Tower Records in Taos, I tried to convince myself that this wasn’t such a bad idea, but when I pulled down the visor to check my makeup in the mirror, I couldn’t deny the fact that I looked guilty as hell. Just a couple of hours ago I was standing in the house that
I would soon share with my future husband. So, on what planet would sneaking off to meet another guy constitute a good idea?
I shut the visor and just sat there in my car staring out the windshield. Was I really going to do this? Just walk on in and pretend I was an ordinary girl who wasn’t just a werewolf but an engaged werewolf, there to meet a guy, and a human guy no less? I couldn’t explain, even to myself, why I wanted to do this. It was like there was this voice inside me telling me that if I didn’t I would regret it for the rest of my life. I needed to get out of this car and walk into that goddamned record store.
This had to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had, but it was exactly what I was going to do.
My heart pounded in my chest at the mere thought of seeing the gorgeous bass player again. If I didn’t get out of the car soon, I was going to lose my nerve and end up driving back to the estate full of regret and what-ifs. Reminding myself that you only live once, I opened my car door, got out, and rushed up to the entrance before I could talk myself out of it. Hopefully, guilt would be easier to swallow than regret.
When I walked in, I was greeted by a guy who looked like he’d fit right in with the stoner crew from Red Ridge High. With sleepy eyes and a goofy grin, he glanced up from his post at the front counter and said, “Hey, what’s up? Lemme know if ya need somethin’.”
I scanned the aisles separated with rows and rows of CDs but didn’t see any sign of the punk-rocker from the music-fest, and he was pretty hard to miss. Unsure of what to do with myself, I sifted through the CDs nearest me, but since country music wasn’t really my thing I decided to search around for something more my taste.
As I found the R&B section, my eyes landed on the backside of a guy wearing headphones who was shelving old cassette tapes in the back corner of the store. His hair was blond, spiked up with plenty of gel, and he wore a flannel shirt, tattered jeans, and combat boots. I watched for a while as he bobbed his head to the music in his ears, but he must have felt me staring because out of nowhere he put the cassettes down and turned around.