The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) (6 page)

“Do what?” Damn, she was distracting with that much skin showing.

“Groceries.” She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Just like washing the sheets. I’d like to be useful while I’m here.”

While she was here. Made it sound temporary. Maybe his theory about them being married in name only was on target. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“That would be good. You’ve got to eat.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t eat at home much.”

She nodded like she was processing what that meant. “I won’t see much of you, is that what you’re saying?”

“I…” He didn’t want to leave her alone in the house but now that he thought about it, what choice did he have? He had to go back to work and he couldn’t exactly have her hang out at the station all day. “I eat at Howler’s most of the time.”

“I think I’ll avoid that place if it’s all right with you.”

“My sister owns it.”

She set her soda on the counter. “Awesome.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t realize how many bad first impressions I’d made already.”

“Bridget didn’t say anything to me about what happened.”

“Bridget? As in the woman behind the bar?”

He nodded.

“I was right about her being a shifter.” Ivy sighed. “Any other Merrows in town I should know about?”

“My brother, Titus. He’s the fire chief.”

“The one my father saved?”

“Mm-hmm.” He leaned on the counter. “And now that Clemens has called in that debt, neither of us has much say in the matter.”

“Does that mean you’re in?”

“Aren’t you?”

She laughed bitterly. “Refuse an order from Clemens Kincaid? I’m a lot smarter than I look.”

“You look plenty smart to me.” She did. There was a bright, determined spark in her gaze. Like a woman with a plan. It was both encouraging and unsettling. “What do you do?”

“What’s my trade, you mean?”

He nodded.

“I do hair. I guess I should look for a salon in town, see if I can rent a chair. Or maybe get my foot in as a receptionist.”

“Are you planning on staying here?”

She gave him an odd look. “You must have a different definition of married than I do.”

“I just thought…you didn’t bring much with you.” So much for his deductive powers.

She shrugged. “I figured we’d get to know each other, make sure we were compatible enough to make it work, then I’d get the rest of my stuff.”

At the word stuff, she glanced at the tattoo on the inside of her left wrist and her mouth bent in an odd way. His gut told him that tattoo was significant. He wondered what it meant to her. When she was ready, he was sure she’d tell him. “If you want to get groceries, that would be good. I’ll drop you off at the store, then head into the office. You can call me when you’re ready to go and I’ll come get you and bring you back.”

“Okay. Happy to do it.”

“I’ll be right back.” He jogged upstairs to the small safe installed in the wall of his walk-in closet. He punched in the code, took out three hundred dollars, locked it back up and returned to the kitchen.

He put the money on the counter. “That should cover it.”

She nodded at the bills. “Yeah, definitely. Anything you don’t like?”

“No. I’ll eat whatever.”

The radio attached to his shoulder squawked. “Hank?”

He pinched it to respond. “Birdie, you’re supposed to call me Sheriff.”

“Why? You forget what your job is?”

Ivy laughed, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

He sighed and spoke into the radio. “What do you need?”

The doorbell rang. Ivy held up her hands and whispered, “I’ll get it.”

He nodded and listened as Birdie rambled on about a tourist with a parking ticket complaint, turning to watch Ivy.

Maybe he’d find a way to let Birdie go and make Ivy the new receptionist. He’d have to see if there was a rule about the sheriff’s receptionist having a record. Ivy sauntered toward the front door, her hips swaying gently. Even if there was a rule, maybe an exception could be made. Having her at the station would be a great way to keep an eye on her.

Which, as it turned out, was quite a pleasurable activity.

Ivy opened the door and stared into the face of the woman who’d brought her a beer and a burger last night. The bartender from Howler’s. Hank’s sister. She had a large brown sack in one hand. The grease-stained bag gave off delicious aromas and Ivy realized in that instant Hank had ordered the food from Howler’s.

Oh boy. This was gonna be fun. “Hi there.”

Bridget stared back. “You look famil—aren’t you the woman they arrested in my bar last night?”

“In the back parking lot and not an actual arrest because the charges were dropped, but yes.”

Bridget frowned, which made her no less pretty. Bridget’s deep auburn looked like it was bottle-enhanced, but so what? It worked really well on her. There was something reassuring about Hank’s sister being well put together. “What are you doing in my brother’s house? Are the holding cells full?”

“No! He brought me here. In fact…” Ivy took a breath, the truth on the tip of her tongue. “We’re going to be—”

“Bridget.” Hank hustled past Ivy to take the bag from his sister’s hand. “You should have sent one of the bar backs.”

Bridget frowned. “Why? So I wouldn’t see you shacked up with a perp?” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I know you haven’t gotten any in a while, but this is sad.”

Ivy put her hands on her hips. “I’m not a perp.” Well, she sort of was. Still. Harsh. Interesting that Handsome Hank hadn’t been scoring lately. What was up with that? She’d have thought the local talent would be all over Mr. Single-In-Uniform.

“Bridget, it’s not what you think, and I’ll explain later,” Hank said. He started to close the door.

Bridget stuck her foot in the way. “Why not now?”

“Shouldn’t you be watching your bar?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Bridget shot Ivy a look. “What
are
you doing here?”

Ivy answered, “Like I was about to say, we’re supposed to be mar—”

“Later, Bridget.” He glared at Ivy.

Ivy crossed her arms. “What’s the matter? Don’t want your sister to know you’re about to get hitched to a Kincaid?”

Bridget swiveled toward Ivy like she was on a pivot. “What did you just say?”

Hank muttered a dirty word. “Living room. Both of you.”

Bridget’s face was screwed up six ways to Sunday, but she stepped inside. He shut the door, steam almost visible from his ears. Poor guy. Apparently, he’d wanted to keep his nuptials a secret. Too bad. Ivy had enough secrets to keep to be adding one more to the list. He pointed toward the interior of the house and both women headed in that direction. He followed after them.

Ivy let Bridget lead since she hadn’t had a tour of the place yet. The living room was quite a space. Bridget sat on one end of a massive brown leather sofa, so Ivy took the opposite end. A huge stone fireplace and mammoth flat-screen fought for attention in the room. Definitely a guy’s room. There wasn’t much in the way of personal touches, but maybe that was because he worked a lot. Or because there was no woman in his life, outside of his sister, to do that sort of stuff.

Hank must have dropped the food off in the kitchen, because he no longer had the bag when he came in. “Bridget, just listen until I’m done. You can ask questions later.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Bridge, please.”

She sighed. “Go on.”

Hank spilled the details of the treaty and the marriage that would seal it. Ivy watched Bridget’s face. Her expressions ranged from anger to horror to sympathy. Clearly she and her brother were a lot closer than Ivy and her brothers. Hank took a deep breath and finished. “So that’s it. Ivy and I are going to take the next few days to make sure we’re compatible, but that’s basically a formality at this point. The marriage will happen in three days. On the full moon.”

Bridget frowned. “Dad said you had to do this?”

“No. He gave me an out. But if the marriage doesn’t happen, Clemens has promised war. I’m not doing that to my family or my pack.”

Ivy sucked in a breath, surprised her father had gone so far as to threaten war. He did whatever he thought necessary to get what he wanted, but going to war would be a new low even for him.

Hank and Bridget looked at her.

Ivy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Really?” Bridget’s brows went up. “You had no idea?”

“
No
, I didn’t.” Ivy shot a look right back at her. “Believe me or don’t, but I’m not exactly part of my father’s inner circle. I didn’t even know about this marriage deal until yesterday.” And then her father had given her half an hour to pack and get moving, which was the real reason she’d brought only a few things with her.

And she still hadn’t texted him. Well, screw him. He had to know she was here. She’d call as soon as she damn well got around to it.

Bridget made a soft noise. “That sucks. It all sucks, actually.”

“It’s what happens to the children of pack leaders.” Hank stared at his sister pointedly. “You know that. I know that. Ivy knows that. And we aren’t always privy to the details.”

Bridget looked at Ivy again, this time her gaze a little softer. “You’re lucky you ended up with Hank. It could have been a lot worse.”

Ivy held back a snort. Bridget really had no idea what worse was. “I don’t really know your brother yet, but I’m sure that’s true.”

Bridget returned her attention to Hank. “You’re definitely going to get married?”

“You see another option?”

“No.” Bridget sighed and leaned back, her gaze shifting to Ivy once again. “You do anything to hurt him, and I swear I will—”

“Bridget,” Hank interrupted. “Making threats in front of an officer of the law isn’t advisable. Not to mention that’s my soon-to-be wife you’re threatening.” Hank’s face was as serious as could be.

“And?” Bridget challenged him.

Ivy snorted out a laugh.

Hank and Bridget looked at her again.

“Sorry, but the whole soon-to-be wife thing just sounds so…weird.” She composed herself, because there was no doubt by Bridget’s stern expression that she was serious. “I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. Despite my start.”

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.”