Chosen

by V. Vaughn

  A half hour later I’m back into town to meet with Paul. He owns a jewelry shop, and I guess he was waiting for me, because he opens the door before I can push it. “Hello, Trixie.”

  “Hi.” I can’t look him in the eye, because I feel foolish for not wanting something I know I should be grateful I found.

  “Let’s go to my office, where we can speak privately.” Paul turns to a beautiful woman. “Please don’t disturb us.”

  She nods and offers me a kind smile. I try to give one back, but I think it might have resembled a grimace, considering the fact I want to vomit.

  The door to Paul’s office snicks shut behind him, and he offers me a seat. Instead of going behind his desk, he sits in another chair near me. His voice is soft when he asks, “What can I help you with?”

  I shift in my chair as his scent sends tingles of desire through my veins. “Now that I’m here, I’m afraid I’m being selfish for what I want to ask.”

  “Don’t. Just ask. I can assure you I’ve been asked far worse.” He smiles at me and says, “I’m not going to judge you for it.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “I want to know if there’s any way to break the true mate connection.”

  “Ah. So you’ve found your true mate?”

  I nod quickly. “Yes, and we’re not a good match.”

  “You’re sure he’s your true mate?”

  “Yes. He has to be because… well, he says we are. And even the way he looks at me gets under my skin.” I wrap my arms around myself as if I’m cold.

  “I see. So why don’t you want to be with him?”

  “He’s not a nice guy. He fights, and uses women, and I can’t imagine spending my life with someone I don’t like.”

  “Trixie, I won’t force you to be with someone that awful. Who is it?”

  “Parker Hoyt.”

  Paul smiles slowly. He stands and says, “Let’s take a walk. I have something I want to show you.”

  We make our way back to the showroom, and he tells the woman he’ll return later. When we get outside, the late-afternoon sun isn’t as warm as earlier today, and a cool breeze blows a curl into my face. I swipe it out of the way. Paul says, “Parker has had a difficult past. Did you know that when a wolf leaves his pack, he becomes incredibly lonely?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “When Parker left to play for the NFL, he was quite successful, but he paid a price.” Paul glances at me. “Those fights you heard about were his self-destructive behavior. He’s been back with us for a year now, and I’ve seen a noticeable difference in his temperament.”

  Yeah, right.

  We’re in front of the high school, and Paul turns into the drive. He asks, “What do you know about football?”

  “Not much. The game has never interested me.”

  The ground beneath our feet is soft as we walk over grass toward the athletic fields. I hear a whistle blow, and when we get past the school building, I discover a team practice. Ponytails and braids bounce as the girls run, and as we get closer, I realize Parker is the coach.

  Paul says, “Winter Valley is going to have a female football team this year.”

  My jaw drops. I gaze at Paul, and he’s grinning. I say, “This is not what I would have expected.”

  “I guessed as much. Did you know it was Parker’s idea?”

  “Really?”

  Paul nods. “He wants girls to enjoy the sport as much as boys do, and this is his baby.”

  I try to wrap my mind around the idea that the Parker Hoyt I know would think females could play his sport. “Does he coach boys too?”

  “No. He’s devoted to getting the girls’ program off the ground instead.”

  We stop, and I watch him help a player with her pass. He pats her shoulder when she does it right and moves on to another girl.

  This one seems to be having trouble, and he breaks down how to throw a football in a way that even I can imagine how it should be done.

  The patience he exhibits surprises me. But not enough that I don’t notice the rippling muscles in his forearm as he demonstrates how to pass the ball.

  Parker glances up and notices me. His smile forms slowly as his gaze reaches me and seems to plunge right into my very being, making every inch of me crave his touch.

  Once Paul leaves, Parker blows the whistle and tells the team to take a five-minute break. He comes toward me when they do. Muscles ripple in his thighs, and I’m caught off guard when he tosses a ball gently at me. I’m no athlete, and I fumble before I catch it. I let out a little squeak when I do. “I don’t think I would have made your team.”

  Parker is smiling at me, and my heart beats a little faster. He says, “If you wanted to play, you’d be on the team. I’ll take anyone that wants to learn.” He glances around before speaking again. “By the way, I have a ‘no girls watching me at practice’ rule.” His grin gets wider as he steps closer. “But that was before I met you.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, where are all your groupies? Did you send out a group text telling them you’re done?”

  “Something like that. Rest assured, you’re the only one.”

  I gaze into his eyes, and an idea comes to me. “I’d like you to meet my mother.” I realize I’m testing him in more ways than one when I add, “Please come to my house for dinner tomorrow night.”

  I’m impressed when he doesn’t miss a beat. “I’d love to.”

  I hand Parker the ball and rise up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Six o’clock. My mother loves Merlot.”

  Parker wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer, and my inhale is sharp as my body begins to melt in his embrace. He says, “Hang out for fifteen more minutes, and I’ll take you home. I might die if I don’t get to kiss you, and I can’t do it in front of the girls.”

  I nod, because I’m not sure I have any words, and when he releases me, I fight to keep my knees from buckling. Once he gets back to the team, I chuckle when a player teases him. “Coach Hoyt has a girlfriend.” He cuffs her helmet playfully.

  I watch the practice and determine I need to do some research and learn the rules of football. I’m relieved and thrilled that my assessment of my true mate was wrong. When practice is over and Parker places an arm around my shoulders to walk me to his truck, my mind doesn’t tell my body to shut up. And I snuggle against the man I’m going to give a chance.

  9

  The engine of Parker’s truck becomes silent as he clicks it off. He turns to me and says, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  I reach out and place my palm on his chest. The cotton of his sweatshirt is thick, but it doesn’t block the heat of him. He takes my hand and tugs me gently. I reach for the back of his head to thread my fingers though his hair as he meets me in a kiss. The gentle touch of his lips is sweet, but I want more, and this time I’m the one that gets rough. I nip at his lower lip and break away to kiss my way down his neck. His salty flavor is tempting, and I imagine what his cock might taste like. The thought of putting it in my mouth scares me as much as it turns me on.

  I move up to his ear and whisper, “I can’t wait to see you naked.” It’s a bold thing for me to do, but the reaction I get is worth it.

  Parker growls and takes my face in his hands. “You’re killing me.” He lowers his mouth to lave my neck, and I throw my head back to enjoy the pleasure as it races through my veins. His hands lower to my shoulders, and he continues down my arms to my waist. I flinch at him touching my flabby belly.

  He whispers, “Don’t.” Parker takes my hand and places it over the erection in his jeans. “Does that feel like I don’t find all of you sexy?”

  His cock is big enough that I wonder if I’d be able to wrap my fingers around it, and while I should take my hand away, I don’t. I press on him, and he groans. So I rub his crotch as his tongue licks the bit of cleavage visible at the top of my shirt.

  My chest heaves with my panting, and my nipples ache for his touch as they press against the fabri
c of my bra. Parker stops to gaze into my eyes as he places his hands just below my breasts. His finger strokes the underside of one. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

  I shake my head, and he smiles as he cups my breasts over my shirt. He says, “I need a taste.”

  I reach up, and the button of my shirt slips through my fingers as my shaky hand tries to undo it. Parker takes over, and he reaches in and lifts my breast out of my bra as his mouth descends on me. I moan when his tongue flicks over my taut peak. I grasp his head, and Parker’s hair is silky in my fingers as I quiver.

  He kisses his way back up to my mouth, and before he gets there, he whispers, “We’re going to be so good together. Say you know it too, baby girl.”

  I speak against his lips. “Yes. God, yes.”

  He drowns me with his kiss, and when he breaks away, I’m crazy with need. I grab at the waistband of his jeans, eager to see his cock. But Parker stops me. “We can’t do this here.”

  I shove myself away and against the car door, because I’m afraid I’m about to climb on him and force him to comply. “I’m sorry.”

  He chuckles and says, “Don’t be. But our first time isn’t going to be in my truck, where anyone could come by and discover what we’re doing.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “We already gave one of your neighbors quite the show.”

  I close my eyes. “Oh, God.”

  I open them up again to Parker’s intense gaze. “I’ll be here at six tomorrow night.”

  “See you then.” I push open the door and jump out before Parker has a chance to walk me. I want him so badly that I might not be able to keep myself from crawling up his body.

  When I get in the house, I shut the door, and it’s hard against my back as I lean on it with a silly grin on my face. My mother looks up from her keyboard. “I know that look. Did some boy just kiss you?”

  No. It was a man, and we did more than kiss. “Yes. And I invited him to dinner tomorrow night.”

  My mom unfolds her legs and stands up. She walks slowly toward me and asks, “Would this boy also be a werewolf?”

  “Yes. It’s Parker Hoyt.”

  The muscles in Mom’s jaw tighten, and she speaks evenly. “You’re dating Parker Hoyt?”

  “He’s not like what I thought. He’s kind and”—I sigh—“he can really kiss.”

  “I don’t want you dating him.”

  My smile fades. “I don’t think you get to tell me that.”

  “Trixie.” Mom huffs. “He’s a player. He’s been with hundreds of women. Why would you even consider a date with him?”

  I reach out to touch her arm. “Did any of your research tell you about true mates?”

  Mom’s eyes get big, and she asks, “Parker is your true mate?”

  I nod.

  “Oh my God. No.” She grabs my shoulders, and her grip is strong enough to bruise. “Oh sweetie, this is the last thing I ever wanted for you.” She releases me and turns to pace. “We’ll move. We can go to Europe, or maybe someplace warm like Mexico or—”

  “Mom, stop.” She turns to look at me, and I think I see fear in her eyes. I say, “I’m not going anywhere. Parker and I are meant to be together.”

  She shakes her head. “This is crazy.”

  “Maybe it isn’t, Mom. You write about things like this every day. Did you ever stop to think that maybe it can happen?”

  “But honey, he’s so—” She shakes her head, and I notice her eyes shine with moisture.

  I walk over and pull her into a hug. The bones in her arms feel fragile in my embrace, and I say, “Give him a chance. I think he’ll surprise you the way he did me.”

  Mom pulls away, and her cool fingers stroke my cheek. “I’d do anything for you, sweetie. I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

  “Great. And can I ask you one more thing?”

  “Sure.”

  “Will you make your curried shrimp dish?”

  She attempts a smile. “He must be special if I’m making him your favorite meal.”

  I reach up and touch my bruised lips as the memory of Parker’s kiss invades my mind. “He is.”

  10

  I’m so nervous, I alternate between having to pee and twisting hair around my finger so tightly that the tip turns purple. Silverware is cold in my hand as I straighten it on the table. The white linen tablecloth is simply adorned with a vase of irises and yellow candles. I lift one of our good crystal goblets to the light and check for spots.

  My anxiety isn’t about Parker. The true mate thing means I’ll never have to worry about his love for me. What I’m worried about is my mother. In my heart, I know I’ll end up with Parker no matter what happens, but it would be nice if Mom went along with the plan.

  “Shit!” The lid to the sauté pan clatters in the sink as my mother tosses it. I think she might be uneasy about tonight too.

  I ask, “Want some help?”

  “No. I’m just being stupid. I forgot the cover was hot.”

  The aroma of garlic and curry makes my mouth water, and I say, “Dinner smells wonderful. I can’t wait to eat it.”

  Mom turns to me with a smile. “Then come taste.” She grabs a fork and stabs a shrimp for me. After I bite it, she waits for me to swallow with her eyebrows raised in question.

  “Delicious.”

  “Good. I hope your boyfriend likes it.” She sucks in her lower lip like when she’s afraid I’m not going to like her story.

  Huh. I thought she was dreading this. “Are you worried he won’t like you?”

  She shrugs. “I can’t help it. He’s famous, and I want to impress him for you.”

  She stirs the sauce, and I wrap my arms around her from behind. “You seem to be forgetting you’re famous too. And look how normal you are.”

  Mom snorts. “I think they call me eccentric.”

  “Good point. But Parker is probably the most apprehensive. All he knows is that we live in a trailer park, and I bet he thinks he’s going to get hot dogs and beans.”

  A light rapping on the door sounds, and my mother says, “Hush. Don’t be elitist.” The grin on her face tells me she finds that funny too, and I walk over to let Parker in.

  I open up to the man that makes me hungry for more than dinner. He’s in suit slacks and a crisp white dress shirt that emphasizes his broad shoulders and narrow waist. “Hi.”

  Parker holds a bouquet of daisies and a bottle of wine. He takes in my appearance. I wore a fitted dress that shows off my thinner but still ample curves, and his wink tells me he approves. “Hi.”

  I step back to let him in. My mom comes toward us, and I say, “Parker, this is my mother, Caroline Quinn.”

  He hands her the flowers and wine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Quinn.”

  “Thank you. How lovely. You didn’t have to bring anything, Parker.” She glances at the label on the bottle, and then she smiles at him. “But I’m glad you did. I’ll enjoy this.”

  “I hope so. And if you do, I have more in my collection.”

  My mom turns from him to walk to the kitchen and says, “Would you get the wine out of the fridge please, Trixie? And pour yourself some too.” My mom has let me drink a glass with dinner since I was sixteen.

  Parker says, “Something smells delicious.”

  “Mom’s making my favorite, curried shrimp.”

  The rushing noise of Mom filling a vase with water makes her speak loudly. “I’m told werewolves will eat anything, so I assumed you’d like it.”

  Parker grins as he steps next to me to hold a goblet for me to pour. He says, “I’m sure there are some picky ones, but I appreciate almost all food.” His eyes scan the room to notice the details.

  The vase of daisies thumps on the table, and Mom moves the irises to the small island in the kitchen. She says, “Parker, take a seat. Dinner is ready.”

  I put the wine bottle down near the candles and move to the junk drawer for matches. Parker says, “Your home is beautiful.”

  Mom sets a steaming bowl
in front of him. She grins as I light the candles and asks, “Not what you expected?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Seems more than one thing here isn’t as it appears.” She sits down with her meal. “Let’s cut to the chase. You’re my daughter’s true mate, and that means you’re about to take her away from me forever. Correct?”

  I glance at Parker to see his reaction to her attack. He doesn’t appear to be fazed. “Not quite. Yes, she’s my true mate, and we’ll be together forever. But I would never take her away from you.”

  “But she tells me she’s now part of a pack. Isn’t that a bit like a commune?” Nobody has taken a bite of food, but I’m hungry, so I spoon up rice with coconut sauce and put it in my mouth as if I’m watching a television show.

  “No. We’re like a large family, but everyone lives in their own homes and interacts with their extended family in the usual way.”

  “So Trixie can continue living with me.”

  I gulp down my mouthful of food, because I want to focus on Parker’s answer. We haven’t talked about where our relationship is going.

  “As long as she wants.”

  Mom looks at me. “Trixie? What’s your plan?”

  Oh boy. A plan? “I can’t deny that I want to be with Parker. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. But I don’t think I know him well enough to go get married tomorrow.”

  Parker reaches over and takes my hand. “I thought we’d try this the usual way. Dates, engagement, and then marriage.”

  I flip our hands up and thread my fingers through his and gaze into his eyes as he smiles at me. “I like that plan.”

  A knife clashes against a plate as my mother cuts her shrimp. She lifts a bite to her mouth as she says, “I can live with that.”

  As if a random storm cloud blew over, the tension is suddenly gone. Parker digs into his dinner as relief relaxes my shoulders. I reach my foot over to nudge his leg in a thank-you, because he handled that beautifully.