Already Freakn' Mated (11 page)

Chris went to work on Tuesday, Jack having made it abundantly clear that Monday was a holiday. The house stood silent when he entered, Jack and Jill already gone to their respective jobs. The lingering scent of his mate tickled him, reminded him of their aborted embrace and he wanted to pound something in frustration.

How to win her when Chris couldn’t even see her? He’d yet to find an answer to that question even though he’d pondered it incessantly since his kiss with Jill.

Forty hours and sixteen minutes since he’d seen her, and he couldn’t forget the taste of her. The torrid embrace also ramped up his dreams a notch, taking him from fantasy flirtation to full blown erotic feast. But his mind wrought fantasies, fun as they were, didn’t compare to the real thing. Not to mention the consequences of his wet dreams. He’d now washed his sheets for five days in a row to his brother’s amusement. He hated it, but at the same time, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he craved the dreams featuring his beautiful Jill, because for now, it was the only way he could have his mate.

Why did the claiming of his woman have to be so freakn’ complicated? And frustrating. Ball aching, fist clenching, frustrating.

Entering the basement area, Chris dropped his toolbox with a loud thud on the floor. If he couldn’t have Jill in his bed, he could at least give her the home gym of her dreams. He’d seen the way she wistfully admired his. He didn’t understand why she needed it so bad, after all, her place abutted the forest, but no matter her reason, he’d give it to her.

About to start work, he noted his stack of wood seemed to have changed. A small piece, a scrap one he’d tossed into a corner for clean up later, sat on top. Curious, he picked it up and wanted to shout for joy when he saw the piece of paper tucked under.

Unfolding it, a looping scrawl greeted his eyes along with the distinct scent of his mate. She’d penned him a note. He held his breath hoping it wasn’t the Dear John type.

Chris,
I want to see you, but we must be discreet.
I’m going to do groceries
tonight
at the Sobey’s around the corner
.
S
even
ish
.
Will you meet me?
J
.

Oh, he’d be there. But this time, before they kissed – because he was so going for another taste – he’d also have to ask some questions, like ‘Where is this going?’ and ‘Want a number for a divorce lawyer?’ Hmm. Maybe too forward, but he did need to find out more about her relationship with Jack before things went any further. Needed to know where he stood in her affections and her future plans, plans he really hoped didn’t include her dour husband.

The day seemed to drag as Chris worked, his mind consumed with his upcoming meeting with Jill. What would he say?
Hey baby. How you doing?
Too creepy and overdone. But hello seemed too simple. And ‘Wanna rent a motel room?’ just a tad too pushy.

Why did one little woman completely mess with his confidence? Chris never had problems communicating with women. Then again, in the past he mostly dealt with women he wanted to screw, not keep as his mate forever. He needed more than just attraction and sex with Jill. He wanted a deeper connection like his parents had. An ability to converse and understand each other, a life of laughter like his sister shared with her mates.

But how to get from where he was now – third wheel looking to steal his mate from her husband – to his happy ending – where she fell in love with him and they lived in a four bedroom house, with a two car garage, a white picket fence and a theatre room with a bar all his buddies could envy?

Yeah, he’d spent a lot of time thinking about his future with a woman he couldn’t yet claim. He’d even canceled the big screen television in case he needed the cash for a down payment on a home, a home he’d share with Jill. He had to wonder if the same questions ran through her mind. They’d not spoken since their interrupted kiss. Would their meeting tonight end up awkward? Would she chicken out? Would she…

With a million questions, and not a single answer, he packed up at four thirty, despite Jack’s new instructions to work whenever he wanted, and headed home for a shower and dinner, stalling tactics to waste time until their appointed meeting. At six thirty, he gave up the battle to wait and stalked the Sobey’s aisles, pushing a cart laden with a few items so as to not look suspicious while he waited for Jill to arrive. To his delight, like him, she arrived early, looking delectable in a pair of worn jeans, her hair tied up in a high ponytail and a windbreaker. He angled his cart up alongside hers.

“Hi.” He went with a simple greeting and bit his tongue lest he ruin the moment with some of his insecurities. Real men didn’t admit to fear.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said, casting him a brief sideways glance.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing.” Oops. He’d admitted to being unsure. He’d have to do something manly to counteract. He tossed some Frank’s Hot Sauce in his cart. Nothing said I-am-a-man like shit that burned you inside and out.

“Thanks for covering for me on Sunday.”

“Don’t thank me. It was my fault you needed a cover in the first place.” He’d dragged her off and kissed her, the least he could to keep her from getting caught up in something ugly. Damned altruistic side. Had he done nothing, perhaps he could have met her somewhere a little nicer than like a star crossed lover in the grocery store. She ducked her head again, cheeks blushing as she – or so he hoped – remembered their kiss. He never found out for sure because she changed the subject.

“The dinner was really good. Your mother is a great cook.”

“Yes she is. Wait until you taste her Christmas dinner. It’s almost as good as her Thanksgiving one.” There went his runaway mouth. Nothing like jumping the gun and making plans weeks down the road and before they’d even ironed some of the more pressing issues in their budding relationship.

She didn’t let him off the hook. “Is that an invitation, or a statement?” she asked. “Seems kind of early to be planning that far ahead. October isn’t even finished yet.” Unlike their American counterparts, Canadians celebrated their Thanksgiving in October.

But forget the timing of holidays, she was waiting for an answer. He brazened ahead. In for a pound and all that. “Holiday suppers are just the tip of the iceberg. You’ll probably be expected to come for Sunday dinner too.”

“I will? And why is that?” Jill halted her cart in the middle of the aisle and stared at him.

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Her eyes shone with mirth, and expectation. Chris groaned. Well, here went nothing. “As my mate, you’ll be expected to attend all family functions.”

“Your mate?”

“Yes, my mate. I’ve known we were meant to be together since the first moment we met.”

Pleasure lit her eyes for a moment, before dejection set it. “Somehow I don’t think Jack will approve.”

“This has nothing to do with Jack.”

Her lips pursed. “Have you forgotten something?”

“No,” he growled. “I know you’re married to the guy. I just don’t understand why you haven’t divorced. I thought my sister was moody, but he really gives the word new definition.”

“He’s got his reasons – good ones – for the way he is.”

How could she defend him? And what reason could Jack have for the stick up his ass? Chris didn’t really care because he hoped to use Jack’s attitude against him. “I want you to leave him.” Yeah, he said it boldly. Forget seducing her slowly, or easing her into his life. He just couldn’t stand the thought of her going home to another guy.

“I can’t.”

Okay, not exactly the answer he hoped for. “Why not? Do you love him?” Waiting for an answer just about killed him, especially, when she sighed and met his gaze, sadness on her face.
Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling I won’t like the answer?

*

How did Jiao end up in the grocery store, slowly walking the aisles with the man fated as her mate, having the most intense conversation of her life? He asked if she loved her husband. Waited for a reply. But how to answer?

“Yes, I love him.” But not in the way Chris thought. Oh how she hated the pain in his eyes. However, she couldn’t lie. She did love Sheng and would never willingly hurt him. What she did now was such a betrayal of his trust, but necessary. She needed to make some things clear with Chris. Get him to give her some time without revealing her secret, time enough that things could turn out right for everyone. She should have known better. Her impatient wolf wanted direct answers.

“Is he your mate?” Strong hand clutching a box of cereal, she noted how the cardboard bent as Chris squeezed it tight, waiting for a reply.

She shook her head. “No, he’s not. I think we both know who my true mate is.” How she wished she could tell him everything, right here and now. Stop the sham and be with the man destined as hers.

“I don’t understand. You know we’re mates. You know what’s happening between us is just going to get stronger. Why can’t you leave him? I know we haven’t known each other long, and I’m not asking you to move right in with me, but the fact you’re living with him is killing me.”

It killed her too. “It’s not what you think. And I can’t explain. Trust me when I say I want to be with you. More than you can imagine. But my marriage is complicated.”

“So explain it to me.”

God, she hated the lying. When would it end? “I can’t. Please. You mustn’t push me on this. I am working on a way for us to be together. But you need to give me time.”

“You can’t expect me to keep letting you go home to him. To his bed,” he said, his tone low, angry and frustrated. “I want you, but I also won’t be screwed around. I have some pride.”

“If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that Jack and I aren’t sleeping together. We –” Her phone rang.

“Don’t answer it,” he growled.

Glancing at the screen’s caller id as she pulled the phone from her pocket, she bit her lip. “I have to or he’ll get worried.”

Snarling something she couldn’t quite decipher, Chris stalked away and headed for the check out. Teeth gnawing her lower lip, she ignored her phone and raced her cart after him. He didn’t say anything as he paid for his purchases and neither did she. Their silence lasted only until they reached the parking lot.

“I thought you had to answer the phone,” he finally muttered, not quite over his sulk. She couldn’t blame him. The whole situation was frustrating.

“I should have. But I can’t stand to see you mad.”

“And I can’t stand to see you married to someone else. So I guess we’re at an impasse.”

Halting her cart again, she turned and grabbed his arm, his very muscled and tense arm. “Don’t be angry.”

Chris wouldn’t look at her. He stared up at the night sky. A heavy sigh left him. “I’m not mad at you. Just frustrated. Can you promise me one thing?” He dropped his gaze from his perusal of the stars until he met hers. “Please promise I don’t have to get in a threesome with your husband to claim you.”

A threesome? With Sheng. Eeew. She couldn’t help making a face and laughing. “I promise you will never, ever have to share me with someone. Especially not Jack.”

“Swear?”

“On my life.”

“Thank freakn’ God.” His bags rustled as they thumped to the ground, leaving his hands free to scoop her up for a kiss that stole her breath. Clasped in his arms, Jiao could understand his frustration. Felt it as well because if it weren’t for the ruse Sheng wanted her to keep, she could indulge in this anytime. Anywhere. Naked.

*

Devouring her lips, lost in sensation heaven, Chris would have promised Jill anything, especially after hearing he wouldn’t have to share her. His elation over that small fact, though, couldn’t completely stem his annoyance in other matters. For example, her reluctance to split from Jack. She didn’t love the guy. He wasn’t her mate. So why did she hesitate? What wasn’t she telling him?

All questions he should have demanded answers to, however, animal need drove him. With his passion overtaking his common sense, all he wanted was to taste her. Touch her. Imprint himself on her so that she would know who she truly belonged to.
Me.
And only me.

Figured the damned phone would interrupt again. To his immense male satisfaction, when he broke the kiss and leaned back, she stood with her eyes closed, lips parted, completely lost in the moment.

“Shouldn’t you answer that?” he teased.

Cheeks flushing from pink to red, she fumbled her phone out. “Give me a second.” Back turned, she answered the phone and a rapid fire conversation ensued in a language he couldn’t make heads or tails of. Her eyes flashed with annoyance when she ended the call and turned back to face him.

“I have to go. I stayed too long.”

“When will I see you again?”

“Thursday. He has a meeting and I am supposed to go to a yoga class, but I’ll get out of it and stay home.”

“That’s two days from now.” Two days of not seeing or touching her. Yanking her to him, he kissed her again, a hard embrace that probably relayed some of his frustration. She kissed him back, her embrace just as fierce and hot. A rude shout about getting a room broke them apart, panting.

“See me tomorrow?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “I can’t.”

“And I can’t wait until Thursday.”

“I doubt I can either.” She sighed. “I’ll figure something out and leave you a note.”

“Why does it feel like I’m back in high school?” he grumbled.

She laughed. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to meet a boy under the bleachers.”

Not very comfortable. But he didn’t say it aloud. This wolf knew better than to talk about past conquests with the woman he hoped to win for life. Chris stroked her cheek with a calloused thumb. “I’ll miss you.”

“Me too. I’ll work something out.” She rubbed against the palm of his hand, a small rumble of pleasure vibrating against his skin.

“I won’t hide what I feel for you forever,” he warned.

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t threaten me. You don’t understand what’s at stake. ”

“Because you won’t tell me. So get whatever’s keeping us apart taken care of or I will do it for you. That’s a promise.”

“If I didn’t feel the same way, I’d probably be really annoyed with you right now,” she snapped. Then softened. “But I understand. I promise to do what I can to be your mate in every way possible as soon as I can,” she added in a husky voice. Before he could grab again for another kiss – and grope – she fled, pert ass swaying, and he forced himself not to chase her.

She wanted time. He’d give her time, but not much because she was his, and she belonged in his arms. His bed. His life.