The Loneliest Alpha (The MacKellen Alphas) (16 page)

All
she could say was, “What?”

A
long, raspy sigh. “Listen, I’ve gotta get to work but first I need to ask you
about something.”

Her
breath caught.
The kiss.
What did he have to ask her? Whether she liked
it—check. Whether she wanted a repeat—double check. Whether she’d like to do it
while being able to see his face—triple check.

“What
is it?”

“A
man stopped by yesterday. His name’s Marcus Graham.”

In a
flash her body cooled and she grimaced. “The creep.”

There
was silence for a moment and she peered at the door wondering what he was
doing. His voice sounded strained. “Yeah, I need to know what he said to you.”

She
let out a breath. “Not much really. He just said he wanted to meet me and that
rumors were spreading about me. He wanted to know what I was to you.”

“What
did you say?”

“Just
a friend.” Why, oh why, did she have to blush like a little virgin schoolgirl
when she said that? She was a grown woman for heaven’s sake.

The
door click as it was unlocked. It opened and a flannel covered arm dropped a
large white shopping bag inside, the kind with sturdy sides so the walls always
stood straight up.

“What’s
this?” She popped up and headed for it. The door shut but she didn’t hear the
lock click. She peered inside the bag, an eyebrow raising. “Is this the women’s
things?” She laughed.

Silence
greeted her. Turning toward the door, she frowned. She hadn’t heard the lock
click, had she? Creeping up to the door quietly, she flung it open expecting to
find a strange alpha with a stranger face. Only, she didn’t find that, but she
did find an empty hallway.

“Gavin?”

A
door closed downstairs; a second later, she heard the loud rumble of his truck
start up.

“That
sneaky son of a…” He’d ducked and run, so to speak.

Biting
her lip, she found herself smiling as she went back to the bed and dumped her ‘women’s
things’ onto it.

Her
eyes lit up. “Whoa.” Not bad, not bad at all.

A
package of ruby red Egyptian cotton sheets that looked soft as sin and just as
comfortable. There was also a fat candle that smelled like apple pie, some
sweet smelling body lotion, facial scrub, bubble bath, and…a black velvet
jewelry box.

He
didn’t.

She
shook her head.

No
way.

He
couldn’t have bought her jewelry. That was crazy. That’s something that maybe a
lover did—at least six months into the relationship. A man didn’t do that for a
woman after meeting her for the first time a mere few days ago. Unless he was
crazy.

With
wide eyes, she popped the lid up on the box.

Her
eyes caught sight of a plastic card. A gift card to hobby shop that sold
everything from textiles to sewing machines. A giddy laugh bubbled out of her.

She
probably really shouldn’t, but she liked this man. She liked this man a lot.

* * * * *

Alicia
finished tying off her last seam. She held the panties up to the light for inspection
and nodded her approval. They were nearly done, just a little more tweaking and
they’d be perfect.

Today
she’d worked out the cost of the lingerie set and determined her profit. If she
bought the supplies necessary to make the set in bulk then she’d save money on
her overall cost. At around nineteen dollars to make one set, she figured she
could sell the set for sixty dollars, at least. A profit of forty-one dollars;
not bad. Not bad at all.

Of
course, the upfront cost of buying the items in bulk would hurt her
financially. She didn’t have much in savings. And, if the lingerie didn’t sell
well… Alicia shook her head to get rid of the negative thoughts. She always did
this. Always had to look at the negative side.

She
had to stay positive. This was a great design and women will fawn over it.
Plus, sixty or so dollars was a bargain when some high-quality lingerie sets
cost over a hundred for two pieces. Her two-piece set would be a great bargain.

Her
stomach rumbled in need and she set her work down. She headed upstairs to grab
a bite to eat, when it struck her. She was just walking past the laundry room. The
mystery box.

Her
heart fluttered and she bit her bottom lip feeling like a naughty child about
to snoop through her parent’s things. That didn’t stop her from rushing into
the laundry room and flipping on the overhead light.

Her
eyes went straight to the bottom right corner where that worn box was.

Except…she
blinked. It wasn’t there. She checked all around the laundry room wondering if
she’d gone mad. Had it been in a different corner or on a shelf? But no…it was
like it had never been there.

Except…Alicia
squatted down and saw a thin layer of dust settled around a cleaner square. The
box had been there, she hadn’t been imagining it. And someone had moved it.
That someone being Gavin MacKellen.

Nibbling
her lip, she turned off the light and headed upstairs to eat. Just what was in this
box? What was he trying to hide? He knew she’d made her workstation down here
so he must have known she might snoop around a bit.

What
the heck could he be hiding? Old love letters, his porn stash, or maybe it was
nothing important.

Except,
if it wasn’t important, then why move it? It had looked as if it’d sat there
for a long time before she’d come around. So what did it matter?

Alicia
made herself a sandwich and ate while lost in thought.

It
must be important and he must not want her to see what’s in it.

Well,
she supposed she’d better find it and see what was so important.

* * * * *

After
washing her dishes, Alicia checked the fridge. It was nearly empty.

Gavin
had eaten her leftovers the other night. The thought made her smile. He’d eaten
all of it and that hadn’t been a little amount of food. Something about that
made her feel good, feeding a man, knowing he liked her food, made her feel
warm. She wanted to do it again but there wasn’t any meat, save for a frozen
package of kielbasa. Yuck, definitely not her thing.

She
found a piece of paper and scribbled—
we need groceries and meat and fruity
yogurts, please
—then stuck it on the fridge with a magnet. Not that the
fruity yogurts were for him, of course.

A
soft knock came from the front door. Alicia jumped a foot in the air. Pressing
a hand over her pounding heart, she gingerly made her way to the door. The last
time someone had come over, it hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

Her
mind raced with possibilities of what would greet her on the other side. A
whole troop of pack members wanting to question her or maybe that creep Marcus
again? She’d take a hundred questions from other pack members over having to
deal with Marcus again.

She
peered through the glass at the side of the door then sighed when she saw Hanna’s
familiar face.

Alicia
opened the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t just use your own key and come in.
This is your brother’s house, after all.” Not mine.

Hanna
didn’t crack a smile. Her eyes looked red like she’d been crying and her lips
were pressed flat. Not a happy woman today. Sorrow clung to her in her slumped
shoulders and in her deep frown and most of all in her weary eyes.

From
the sedan in the front yard, Kaity popped out of the driver’s seat. “Get
dressed, we’re going out and getting drunk.”

“We?”
Alicia asked, surprised.

“Yeah,
you, me, Hanna, and whoever else we pick up on the way. Tonight we’re getting
Hanna drunk and celebrating.”

Hanna’s
eyes watered as if she found the idea physically painful. The girl didn’t look
like she wanted to celebrate. She looked like she wanted to crawl into a dark
hole and live in it for a few months.

“Celebrating
what?” Alicia asked.

Kaity
looked at her sister with a fierce, determined expression. “Celebrating her
divorce from her piece of shit mate.”

Hanna
squeezed her eyes shut and looked away, embarrassed.

Not
sure quite how to react, Alicia plastered on a smile. “Give me five to change.”

She
rushed upstairs and put on a skirt, some cute flats, and one of her favorite,
more sexy, tops. She hadn’t left the house since she gotten here and she
suddenly found that she
had
to get out of here. She didn’t know these
ladies but they seemed like good people. The kind of girls she could befriend,
and if Hanna needed to get drunk because of her piece of shit mate, then by all
means, Alicia understood and respected that.

After
all, been there, done that.

“Lookin’
hot,” Kaity said as Alicia rushed out.

“Thanks,
I’ve been living in jeans and yoga pants for a week so this is a nice change.”

Feeling
like a teenager sneaking out of her parents’ basement with her friends, she
hopped into the back seat and they took off.

“So
where are we going to?” Alicia asked.

“Tish
Freedman owns the
Burly Bear
. It’s our local lykaen bar. It’s in our
territory but we get humans, other lykaens, and even the occasional vampire in
there. Not a bad place to get your buzz on.”

“I
really just wanna go home, Kaity,” Hanna said miserably.

Alicia
bit he lip at the sadness in her voice and glanced out the window seeing the
Oregon pack for the first time. Since the first time she’d been blindfolded on
arrival.

Kaity
patted her sister’s leg. “I know and that’s why I can’t let you do that. Tom’s
a scumbag and now that you’ve fully realized his scumbagness, we’re free to
trash talk him, get drunk, and help you to move on to way better men than him.”

A
sniffle from the front seat. “Yeah, I know I need to but…
I love him
!”

Ouch.
Hanna loved a scumbag piece of shit. Just what qualified him as a scumbag piece
of shit could mean many things. He could be a
dawg
, a player, a cheating
sack of shit. Or maybe he’d hit her, though Alicia didn’t think that was it.
Not only because she hadn’t seen any bruising but because the MacKellen men
wouldn’t stand for that.

No,
this was something Hanna and Kaity had been keeping under wraps, probably for
Hanna’s sake. Which meant it was personal. Alicia was going with cheating on
this one. Hanna wouldn’t want her brothers to find out because she knew they’d
mete out justice to the man and then she’d lose the love of her life.

Double
ouch.

Of
course, Alicia understood where Hanna was at too.

“I
know, honey. I know,” Kaity said softly.

They
made it the rest of the way to the
Burly Bear
in silence. The MacKellen
pack covered a good portion of land. Even with the bar being inside the pack
they drove twenty-five minutes before seeing the worn, sepia sign that said
Burly
Bear Bar
on it.

Hanna
had gotten her tears under control by time they arrived.

Alicia
stared at an oversized bear statue sitting out front of the bar and figured that’s
where the bar got its name from. The bear was huge, at about eight feet tall.
It sat on its hind legs like when you ordered a dog to sit. It was painted
brown but you could tell it was old and the color had begun to fade. Still, it
was a cute statue. Where you would even buy something like that, Alicia had no
idea.

“That’s
Giacomo.”

Alicia
peered at Kaity questioningly.

“The
bear, his name’s Giacomo.” Kaity grinned up at the bear. “We all call him Giac
but there’s confusion in the pack about it. Some think the Giac is short for
guacamole. Yeah, silly, I know. But it’s Giacomo. Tish named him and it stuck.”

Alicia
nodded slowly, having no words to say to that.

Inside
the
Burly Bear
some nice eighties rock blared over some black speakers
mounted high up on the walls. The quality was poor, the sound scratchy, but it
gave an authenticity to the worn-in state of the bar. The wood floors had seen
countless spills, though it looked about as clean as it could get.

Small
round tables were pushed close together to cram in as many people as possible,
and the bar had those little black barstools. All of which were filled. Along
either side of the walls were a couple of booths. Everything was filled. The
place was packed. And it was only a weeknight.

Conversations
were held in loud shouts in order to be heard over the music, glasses clinked
together in toasts that spilled beer down frosted mugs, and laughter rang out.

“Come
on,” Kaity said, yelling over the noise.

The
three of them wound their way inside and Alicia was surprised to find the place
formed an
L
. They’d only been in the shorter half of the bar, but down
the longer pass was more tables, a few of which were open, and two pool tables
sat in the back next to a dart board and a cramped corner where a couple hung
to each other dancing so close it bordered on excessive PDA.