Promising Peter (Bad Boy Alphas) (Shrew & Company Book 6)

by Holley Trent

  She smiled as she closed and locked the apartment door. “No worries. You’re right. I moved most of my stuff back to my parents’ house after I abandoned the lease on my place in Asheville. Most of the furniture was so junky, I figured I’d just leave it there for my parents to do with as they saw fit.”

  She stepped into the kitchen just off from the front door and opened the refrigerator. “Want some water?”

  “Sure.”

  She pulled the pitcher out and set it on the counter. As she opened cabinets, likely in search of glasses, he started scanning the apartment. He walked through the living room to the bank of windows and, by habit, checked to see they were secure.

  Her apartment was on the third floor of the apartment block and, unlike every other apartment of the same age in Durham, lacked a balcony. That pleased him. The community was gated, and Andrea had two good locks on her door. Peter didn’t know whether they’d come standard or if she’d had them installed, but they assuaged his worry about her personal safety somewhat.

  She must have caught on to him scoping her place, because she laughed, and said, “Quit it,” as she handed him his water glass. “Dana picked this place out for me.”

  “Ah. That explains the features.”

  “She used to have an apartment here before she and Patrick got married. I think there are lots of cops in the development. Some of them she likes, and some she doesn’t because of how they treated her when she was forced out of the police department after the SHREW study. Either way, they’re all good-enough cops, I guess.”

  Peter grunted. He really needed to check and be sure he didn’t have any outstanding warrants. He imagined that if he did, Dana probably could make them disappear. The things that woman could accomplish when she set her mind to work were frightening. He was pleased to be able to call her a peer.

  No, not a peer. A friend.

  He wasn’t used to being able to think of people that way. His nomadic existence hadn’t allowed for meaningful connections, but being attached to Andrea meant he had no choice but to make them. Years ago, he might have been anxious at having so many people be privy to his secrets, but he was tired of being that man. Having Soren as his closest associate simply wasn’t enough anymore.

  Peter craved more, and the woman in front of him was meant to give him what he needed. He still worried, though, that Andrea didn’t fully understand what she was getting with him. She claimed to, but he found that difficult to swallow. There was no way that she could know what kind of man he was and what sorts of things he’d done, and still be able to forgive him enough to like him. Or at least, do a little better than tolerate him.

  His sipped water and, satisfied that the apartment was suitable, moved away from the window.

  She followed him down the hall, turning on lights as she went. “There’s supposed to be a two-bedroom opening up across the breezeway in a couple of months. I’m on the waitlist for it. I figured I might as well be.” She sidled around him and opened the bedroom door. Turning on the light, she said, “I don’t know if I can justify the cost, though. I live alone, and no one ever comes to visit. Whenever Tamara and Bryan are in the area, they stay at Tamara’s place, and my parents don’t drive out here much.”

  “One bedroom’s fine for you,” he said noncommittally, his gaze locked on her substantial four-poster bed with its fluffy down white cover and piles of plush pillows. She likely disappeared when she climbed into that heap of softness. Became the tiniest lump beneath the linens.

  “Probably.” She set her glass on the bedside table—the left side, nearest the windows—and then walked to the closet. “I can’t think of any good reason to spend the money when I haven’t even had a chance to furnish this place yet.”

  He could help with that. He had plenty of money because ghosts didn’t need possessions. Since he was giving up that lifestyle, he figured he should have some things. Maybe a fine leather chair in the living room. He could sit in it and clean his guns at the end of long, hard days while listening to Andrea puttering around in the kitchen.

  Being presumptuous there, huh?

  Sipping his water, he turned and watched her kick off her shoes and put her cardigan on a hanger.

  “Do you cook?” he asked.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not used to hashing my words. I don’t mean to be offensive.” To you, anyway. “I don’t cook at all, unless you count things like coffee. Faster and easier for me to buy ready-made.”

  “I see.” She furrowed her brow and disappeared farther into the closet. “I do okay, but up until recently, I didn’t have enough of an appetite to want to cook much. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do more, soon. My mother has some really great family recipes I’d like to master. She used to do these huge Sunday spreads after church. Big roasts and a bunch of sides and desserts.”

  “Church?”

  “Yeah, most of the Ridge Bears are Protestant, believe it or not.”

  “How can you be Protestant and pantheistic at the same time?”

  She stepped out of the closet, smiling, and wearing plaid pink-and-white pajama bottoms and a gray Shrew & Company T-shirt. “We just are. You interested in philosophy?”

  “No. Just curious.”

  “Oh.” She turned off the closet light and moved to the dresser that held what looked like a jewelry box, a couple of hats, and a flat-screen television. She grabbed the remote control and then climbed onto the bed.

  He watched her crawl to the head, wondering if he’d be issued an invitation to join her—wondering if he should bother even waiting for an invitation.

  He let out a ragged exhalation and closed his eyes. He hated feeling so out of sorts. Normally, he knew precisely what to do with a woman. The mating season had muddled his brain, perhaps, or the hormones had made him a little more stupid. “My family doesn’t have those sorts of traditions,” he said, opening his eyes.

  She nodded encouragingly.

  Keep talking, then. “We…moved around too much, never bothered rooting in that way.”

  “You should have some traditions of your own.”

  “I agree.” He wanted to make some with her.

  She settled under the covers and turned on the television. “We can order pizza or something. I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Pizza wasn’t his favorite thing, but he didn’t want her to second-guess what she was hungry for.

  “I don’t know what I want. There are limited delivery options. The only folks servicing this neighborhood are pizza places, one sub shop, and a Chinese food place Maria doesn’t trust, and she won’t tell me why.”

  “I could go out and get you something if you’d prefer something else.”

  “Trying to get away from me already?”

  “No!” he said a little too sharply and a little too loudly.

  Her eyes widened momentarily.

  He dragged a hand through his messy hair and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to think that leaving you is ever my intention.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I made a joke, and it fell flat, I guess. My fault.”

  “Not your fault. And pizza is fine if you’re going to eat some.”

  She gave a half smile and shrugged. “I’m feeling a pull toward pepperoni and bacon.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll have.”

  “But what do you want?”

  “Don’t worry about what I want. Be selfish for a change. Have things your way.”

  “That’s not easy for me. I wasn’t raised that way. That just isn’t the way Ridge Bears are.”

  And that was probably why he was so thrilled she was his. If both of them were impossibly bossy, they would never accomplish anything in or out of the bedroom.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it idly from hand to hand. “What’s the name of the place?”

  “Mama Esther’s. Tell them they’r
e delivering to Eastern Run and they’ll add breadsticks to the order. You can never have too many carbs, right?”

  “Carbs are the goddess’s way of showing us she loves us.”

  “My brother says the same thing about steak.”

  Peter grunted. “Yeah, that sounds like Bryan.”

  He stepped out the room to make the call. Leaving wasn’t necessary. He could have phoned the pizzeria right there in front of her and not have disturbed her television watching much, but he also needed a moment to get a hold of himself in private. The ride back from the mountains had very nearly broken him, and she hadn’t done much beyond sleeping. Perhaps her energy no longer took up the space it once had, but her scent remained intoxicating, and the part of him that was beast was becoming impatient again. He wanted to claim his mate, but once he did, there’d be no letting go. He’d never be able to rein himself back in or walk away from her. She needed to be sure.

  And he needed to be sure she was sure. He didn’t want to wake up every morning looking into the face of a woman who had regret in her eyes.

  He called in the pizza order. Twenty minutes, they said. No orders ahead of his, and the delivery guy was standing around swishing his rag along the counter.

  So, for twenty minutes, he stood in front of the living room window looking out at the parking lot—at his SUV backed into the assigned space next to Andrea’s coupe, a little too close to it, maybe. She was parked nearly on top of the line, and if cars had been people, his would have been breaching the personal space of hers.

  “Just like real life,” he muttered.

  But even the vehicles looked right. Settled and comfortable as if that configuration was typical. Normal, in spite of the fact the parts shouldn’t have been complementary.

  He gave the delivery guy some cash and a nice tip for hurrying over, and set the boxes atop the kitchen counter.

  He walked to the bedroom to fetch Andrea in case she hadn’t heard the knock, and saw immediately why she hadn’t come out.

  She was asleep, still clutching the remote control, and with her phone nearly sliding off her lap.

  He hated to wake her. She probably needed the rest badly after spending a decade being at odds with her inner beast. But he also hated to see her lying there with her eyes closed. The sight reminded him of that paralysis she’d endured due to her stubborn inner bear—the one who hadn’t cared if her host lived or died and who hadn’t even left the woman with enough strength to fight back.

  He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and her dark eyes immediately sprang wide open.

  Frightened. Shit.

  “It’s just me,” he said quietly.

  “Damn.” She let out a long breath. Rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I keep nodding off. You probably think I’m narcoleptic or something. That’d be a first for a Bear, huh?”

  “You’re not a typical Bear. Stop trying to be one.”

  Her smile was weak. “Old habits die hard. The pizza’s here?”

  He grunted. “Where do you want to eat?”

  “I’m getting up. I do occasionally eat in bed, but I see no reason to show you what a slob I am yet.” Giggling, she pushed the covers back and turned her body to dangle her legs over the edge of the bed. Then she stretched, raising her arms over her bed and arching her back as she yawned. More like a cat than a bear. Lean and lithe. Graceful.

  Reflexively, he moved his hand to the slope of her long neck and trailed his fingers down it.

  She looked up at him, uncertainty in her gaze, and he certainly understood why she’d be unsure. He felt that, too. He’d never been tentative with a woman. In the past, he’d only associated with the sorts of women who knew exactly what kind of man he was and who were fine with having his particular brand of company for an hour or two. They hadn’t wanted to be kept, and he hadn’t wanted to keep them.

  But Andrea was whom the Bear the goddess dropped onto his lap. A gift he didn’t know what to do with. One he didn’t want to return, but one he wasn’t quite sure how to put together or utilize. She didn’t come with instructions, and his instincts regarding her weren’t reliable.

  She pressed her cheek to his hand and looked away from his face—down to his chest.

  “I’m in your way,” he said. He didn’t move. Didn’t want to. Wouldn’t unless she told him to.

  “Why didn’t you come back?”

  “Back from where?”

  “You went to call in the order, but you didn’t come back. Why?”

  He raised her chin, made her look at him.

  She was blinking rapidly, and her cheeks were dark as plums. “You needed some space,” he said.

  “I did?”

  He grunted. “I’ve been in your face all afternoon.”

  “I didn’t ask for space.”

  “I imagine you’re not used to people giving it to you even when you do ask.”

  She flinched and pulled his hands own to her lap. “You’re standing there in your boots like you’re about to leave. Are you leaving already? You have a call to go out on? Someplace you need to be?”

  “There’s no other place I need to be right now.”

  “Are you afraid the floor’s not clean enough to walk on? I promise it is.”

  He chuckled. “No. If I take off my boots, I’ll get comfortable.”

  “And what’s so wrong with that?”

  He let out another ragged breath and squeezed her hand. “You won’t be able to get rid of me. I’ll find some spot in this place to claim as my own, and that spot will grow by the hour until the whole space and everything inside it is mine.”

  Contrary to what she’d accused, he did understand alpha Bears, and knew enough about himself to guess what would happen if she gave him an inch. He’d want everything, and she wouldn’t say no. He never wanted her to feel like she had no choice in what she gave.

  She swallowed. Her cheek twitched and anxious fingers stilled over his. “You don’t…want that?”

  “I want that very much. Maybe too much.”

  “So take it.”

  “I don’t think you understand what you’re telling me.”

  “I know exactly what I’m telling you. I’ve got a clear head, and I’ve never been able to make decisions so easily before. I can say without a sliver of doubt that I know what I want, and I want you.”

  “You’re inviting an alpha Bear into your den and letting him take it over.”

  “And me. If you want me.”

  “If?” He scoffed. “If has never entered the equation.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Drea didn’t know what other words she could give Peter—how to explicitly say, “Yes, I want this. I want you,” because she’d already done that. Several times. She couldn’t be clearer.

  He seemed to be waiting for her to confess her fear of him and to shout and scream—to send him away. She’d never been afraid of him, so she couldn’t act the way he was expecting.

  She set the television remote and her phone on the nightstand and slipped off the side of the bed.

  Settling onto her knees, she pulled her gaze up to meet his curious one. His expression was full of “What are you doing?” and she was going to make that clear in the only way she could think of.

  She lifted the hems of his jeans and tugged free the knots in his bootlaces. She loosened the ties, pulled the tongues, and pressed her hands to the toes. She looked up at him, hoping he could read the silent request.

  Step out.

  For a while—maybe a minute—he just stared at her, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists at his sides.

  But then he moved. First one foot to heel off the opposite boot, and then the other.

  She pushed the boots beneath the window and rolled down his socks next. He picked up each foot and let her remove the garments.

  She remained on her knees, watching him watch her.

  Tell me what to do, Peter.

  “Come here.” He pulled her to standing, only to pick her up and set her
on the edge of the bed. “If we do this,” he said, pale eyes narrowed. “You won’t be able to get rid of me. You understand that?”

  “Why do you think I want to?”

  “I’m not a good man.”

  “That’s your opinion. And you may think you’re not, but obviously at least two entities in this universe think you’re the right man for me.”

  “I know of one. Who’s the other?”

  “Me. Is that not enough?”

  “It should be.” He let out a breath and dragged his lips down her neck. She laid her head to the side to increase his access—to show her consent.

  “Are you holding out for someone else? Do you think the goddess makes mistakes when she puts Bears together?”

  “No.” He nudged her collar aside and kissed the skin he exposed.

  “Then what?”

  “I’m afraid, Andrea. I’m afraid that in the end, I won’t get to have you. That everyone will realize that us being together is wrong and do everything they can to undo us.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “Because this makes sense to me. Logic says that I would be yours to keep if you wanted me.”

  “Explain your reasoning to me again so I understand, then. Guns and knives are my forte, not logic. Remember what my mother said about common sense?”

  “Stop.” Drea pressed her hands tentatively to his chest and when he didn’t flinch or otherwise move, she slipped them upward to his shoulders. She squeezed them, pulled him close enough to her that she could feel his quick breaths tickling her forehead and cheeks. “I think you understand perfectly well. You’re afraid that because I got so used to being terrorized by men who were supposed to take care of the clan that I would want to avoid every dominant male around me. That’s not the case. I know how to compartmentalize—how to sort what’s good from what’s bad and put everything in the correct box. You’ve never tried to hurt me. Why would I push you away?”

  “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “And I know you won’t. Your inner bear wants to mate, and you know down to your cells that I won’t let you if you treat me badly.”

  “But that’s not the only concern, Andrea. We could mate and not be together. We could be bound in that way and not in others.”