Olivia had the biggest smile on her face. “You know what? I think I might be falling in love with Detroit.”
“Good.” He was absurdly pleased about that, and he refused to dwell on it. Grayson loved Detroit. He knew she would too. Detroit was his home. Maybe it would become hers, and then, together, they could protect it.
Chapter 9
They returned to Grayson’s house. It was more of a mansion than a house, and Olivia felt badly. Grayson seemed to be the kind of man who would make a great father. His house should be filled with a ton of kids. Maybe with his next wife. Her stomach twisted in dismay. She would do this for the sake of Detroit. She loved what she had seen so far as for what the city had to offer, outside of the assholes of course. Could she see herself staying here long term? Maybe but the thought of seeing Grayson with another werewolf strangely made her feel uncomfortable and sad.
Grayson had just finished preparing them an elaborate Italian dinner without letting her help any when someone knocked on the door.
Grayson called, “Come in.”
“You’re too trusting,” Olivia said. “What if it’s the assholes?”
“It’s not,” a familiar voice said. Edward walked into the room.
“I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop,” Olivia blurted.
“A woman already, old chap?” Edward teased. He was younger, maybe early twenties.
Grayson locked gazes with Olivia. She shrugged one shoulder and nodded. The alpha slowly nodded too.
“Yes, a woman already,” Grayson said. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“You two are to be wed?” Edward repeated, sounding shocked and amazed. “That is wonderful. I’m thrilled. This is exactly what we need. There’s, ah, Last night, here was another incident.”
“Another one?” Grayson roared. “Where? Against whom?”
“More insults, threats, and harassment. This is why the wedding needs to be quick. The sooner the better.”
“I suppose,” Grayson mumbled.
“Well, that sounds encouraging,” Olivia murmured.
She knew this wasn’t ideal, but at least last night, he had shown slight flashes that made her think marrying him might be fun. His reaction now suggested he was having second thoughts. Which was understandable. This was huge, and he was clearly still grieving. Alexis hadn’t told Olivia about the alpha female outside of saying she had died. Maybe Jasper would be the better one to ask considering he had lived in Detroit all of his life.
“I wasn’t wed before,” Grayson protested. “With Patty, we eloped.”
“You can’t elope, not this time,” Edward said. “This needs to be as public as possible, a sign of the entire pack rallying in unison with you both as alpha and his alpha female.”
“How soon are we talking?” Olivia asked.
“Are you sure you’re fine with this?” Grayson asked her.
“It’s more a question of whether or not you are,” she said. “I didn’t come to Detroit to find love.”
“You didn’t come here to find assholes harassing you either.”
“No, but I’m not going to run away. If I can help, I will. Let me make sure those bastards pay.”
Edward cleared his throat. “Three weeks. Saturday. Will that be enough time to arrange food, music, a hall, a dress and veil, and all of that?”
“He’s alpha. He should be able to make this happen in a week,” Olivia said.
“Three weeks is good,” Grayson said.
She laughed. “No need to rush more than we have to,” she agreed.
“Besides, you should meet more of the pack beforehand.”
Edward nodded. “Good. I can get started on finding a location. Grayson, you can handle the food and music. Olivia—”
“Flowers, makeup, gown. Got it.” She nodded.
“Wonderful.” Edward rubbed his hands together. “After the wedding, we will have to be ready for the possibility that it might not be enough to warn them off. We’ll talk about that later, though. For now, just focus on the wedding.”
Humming the wedding march tune under his breath, Edward left.
“He’s a little… unique,” Olivia commented, not wanting to offend Grayson.
“He can be a little too enthusiastic, I’ll admit,” the alpha said. “But he’s a good beta. He cares about the pack.”
“That’s all you could want from him.” Olivia stretched. “I should go home. I need to shower.”
“You could shower here,” he said.
“Are you sure? That doesn’t matter either way. And I don’t have clothes to change into. I’ve been wearing this for two days now.”
“True. You can go.”
She hesitated. “Let me clean up the kitchen first. You didn’t have to make me breakfast or dinner.”
“It wasn’t much,” he protested. “Homemade meatballs are easier than you think to make, and the sauce was simple.”
“And delicious. It was very sweet.” She slid to her feet, patted his shoulder, and bent down. The impulse to kiss him was very strong. Olivia suppressed it and then caved, kissing the top of his head.
This was dangerous territory for her. Grayson was emotionally unavailable, yet she knew that if she wasn’t careful, she could and would fall for him. She needed to keep barriers up to protect herself. This wasn’t going to be a traditional marriage. That was why she mentioned him finding someone else and moving on. Because he needed to if she were to find love.
Maybe neither of them were to find love, in his case not again. Maybe just being friends could be enough in this instance.
She grabbed her plate and brought it over to the sink.
“Thank you,” Grayson said.
She nodded. Her shoulders slumped when she heard his footsteps as he left the room. She’d hoped to talk to him more, but he might want to shower or put a shirt on. Olivia shivered with delight. Even his shoulder had been strong and solid beneath her hand despite his shirt. This morning, she had done her level best not to stare at him, at his strong chest and his six-pack abs. He might be grieving, but he wasn’t eating to try to get through it. Maybe he even exercised more than before to help distract him. Whatever the case, she approved.
Not that she would enjoy his body. Friendship. That was all she could hope for.
It won’t be easy, marrying a guy who looks like that and not having him in my bed, not kissing him, licking him, sucking him, making love to him…
Olivia didn’t tend to think of the act as making love. She had never truly loved another guy. At the time, she had thought she had, but maybe she didn’t even know what love was. Having sex or fucking, that’s all she had ever done. Passion, heat, desire, without the emotional connection that transformed it into making love, that was all she had ever experienced.
Ignoring her thoughts, she opened the dishwasher. Already clean dished sat there, waiting to be put away. She opened every cabinet and drawer to figure out where all of the cups, plates, bowls, and silverware should go. Then, she loaded up the pans and their breakfast dishes. There wasn’t enough for a full load, so she closed the dishwasher. After washing her hands, she returned to the guest room and grabbed her purse. Now, she was ready to go.
She found Grayson in the living room, sitting on a light brown couch. An album rested on his lap. Her gaze fell on the untouched drink resting on the coffee table. Sure enough, when she sat beside him, she saw pictures of Grayson and a werewolf.
“She was beautiful,” Olivia said.
“She was. I love her.”
Love. Not loved. Love.
He flipped through the pages. A fair amount had pictures of Grayson with his wife and other werewolves.
“We would host parties all the time. At least once a month,” he explained.
“That sounds like so much fun! Do you still have them?”
Grayson slowly turned to stare at her before refocusing on the pictures.
Of course not. Duh.
“Maybe you’ll have so much fun at our rece
ption, you’ll realize you need fun in your life, and we can start up the parties again. I do love to party. We could have themes! Roaring twenties, the fifties, a toga party!”
“We aren’t in college,” he said dryly.
“So?” she asked, confused. “We have to stop having parties because we’re old farts?”
Grayson smirked. “We aren’t that old.”
She eyed him. “You’re older than I am, so if anyone’s the old fart, that would be you, not me.”
“Basically, I’m the mature one.”
She crossed her arms. “Are you calling me immature?”
His gaze dropped to below her neck. “No,” he said, quickly glancing away.
“Do you have any pictures of you as a kid?” she asked, her fingers touching against the first couple of pages.
“Not in this one. Here.” He flipped through it. “There. Happy?”
Scooting closer, she took the album. Grayson was young, super young. He was decked out in a suit reminiscent of the seventies.
“High school prom.”
“But you had to have been in high school in, what, the late nineties?” she asked, protesting.
“Yes, but it was themed, and I looked terrible. No themed parties.”
“You are amazing,” she countered, shifting even closer to him. “Take another peek. You’re grinning. You loved it then!”
“I didn’t realize how foolish I looked!”
“Not foolish,” she said stubbornly. She glanced up at him. Whoops. She was so close their thighs were touching. She was leaning against him. “Never foolish,” she whispered.
Her gaze fell on his lips, and she licked hers. She wanted to kiss him. She shouldn’t, but she did.
Was it her imagination, or was he tilting down toward her. Would he kiss her?
Her eyes fluttered close. When his lips didn’t touch hers, she opened her eyes and tried not to be disappointed. Fuck. She was the one being foolish. Damn it all to hell. She had thought the assholes were bad, but it just might be Grayson Earle who would be the one to devastate her.
Chapter 10
That night, Olivia had every intention of returning to her apartment. She hadn’t bought it to never sleep there. First, though, she wanted to discuss how much they could afford for flowers and the rest. The idea of spending a lot of money on essentially a fake marriage didn’t sit well with her, but they couldn’t afford to let anyone know that it was fake. Money would have to be spent, and she didn’t have a lot to offer. A thousand. Maybe two. She didn’t want to use all of her savings on this. Little by little, she was trying to squirrel enough away to be able to possibly start making her own line.
But this was important. So many lives were at risk. It wasn’t often that packs clashed like this, but it did happen, and it could be terribly bloody, devastating affairs.
Affair. She shivered. She both did and didn’t like that word.
Because that’s how it felt, that all of this was an affair. Grayson had to feel like he was cheating on Patty, and she hated that. She didn’t want him to think like that, but considering how deeply he still cared for his first wife, she knew he had to be disgusted by this.
Again, the two talked and drank so late that she ended up sleeping over again. This time, she woke up first, and she was making chocolate chip pancakes when he entered the kitchen, wearing a shirt, much to her disappointment.
“I would’ve made blueberries,” she said, “but they were starting to grow mold on them. I threw them out.”
“I tend to forget about berries,” he said with a grimace. “Apples, oranges, plums, those I remember.”
“Noted. I’ll have to make you an apple pie one time.”
“You make pies?”
“Yes.” She grinned.
“What?”
She covered her mouth to indicate she was telling a secret. “It’ll be store bought.”
He laughed. “Not a baker?”
“Nope. I can cook decently, but baking not at all. I tend to burn things or add sugar instead of salt.”
“Is that a terrible thing?”
“When you include just a teaspoon of sugar and then a cup of salt…”
Grayson chuckled as he grabbed them plates. “You didn’t mention the salt part. I thought you just added extra sugar.”
“Trust me. That cake would’ve needed more than just sugar to try to get it to taste edible.”
“But if you followed the recipe exactly…”
“Burn or undercooked or just fall apart in the pan.” She shrugged. “Not a baker.”
“Olivia Moreno, I never would’ve taken you for the kind of person to give up.”
“Not give up. Give in. I’ll rather buy dessert that I know will be mouthwatering than waste food trying to bake.”
“I guess that’s fair enough.”
“I’m glad you understand.” She smirked and handed him a perfect pancake. “Enjoy.”
After breakfast, she told him she planned to go shopping.
“For the wedding?” he asked.
“Possibly but also for my fashion blog.”
“Ah, yes. Your work.”
She waited to see if he would comment on it or belittle it. Instead, he asked some insightful comments, and she winced inwardly. She was so worried about being judged that she was being judgmental in return.
“Have fun,” he said.
“I will. I love shopping even if I do most of the window kind.”
He laughed but then grimaced.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was hoping to take you over to my company. I have some people I wanted you to meet.”
She glanced at her left wrist even though she never wore a watch. “Hmm. I can give you exactly two hours.”
“And not a second more?”
Olivia smirked. “Maybe two seconds.”
His company wasn’t far from his house, and it was clear that his work was his baby. He loved it, thrived in being the boss. Being alpha came second nature to him.
Or maybe he was using it as a means to ignore his grief.
Either way, he was excelling. She met so many people that she doubted she could remember all of their names, but she had a great time. Yesterday had been amazing, but today was a lot of fun too.
Once those two hours were up, even though she had told him that it had been an arbitrary time limit, he brought her back to his place so she could take her care and do her errands.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Of course. Anything for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She wished he meant that in every capacity, including emotionally and even sexually. She knew that wouldn’t be the case, though, and she respected that. Love, true love like the kind he shared with Patty, didn’t happen every day. She imagined it would take forever to get over, if that was even possible.
Olivia waved to Grayson and drove away, straight to Alexis’s house. Her best friend opened the door.
“You haven’t called me,” Alexis said. “I want to know what is going on!”
“Is Jasper home?” Olivia asked as she entered and sat on the living room couch.
“No, he’s at work. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Olivia exhaled. “You doing anything two Saturdays from now?”
Alexis tilted her head to the side. “Not that I can think of. Why? What are you planning?” Her eyes widened in shock, and she shrieked, “You’re marrying Grayson? You’re really going to do it?”
“Yes and yes.”
“But-But—”
“But what?”
“But you don’t love him.”
“So? This isn’t about love. It’s about stopping those assholes and any others who think they can take over Detroit from under Grayson. Because you and I both know that they’ll kill him and a lot of other werewolves in their takeover.”
“Just what I need,” Alexis moaned. “Another asshole alpha to deal with.”
“You wo
n’t have to worry about that,” Olivia said firmly. “Now, you up for some shopping?”
“As long as you don’t mind if I bring Lisa along.”
“Of course I don’t mind! Where is the little sweetheart?”
* * *
All day long, Olivia, Alexis, and Lisa went around shopping and comparing prices for flowers and other wedding prep. When Alexis and her daughter finally left to go home, Olivia determined that now was the best time to check out the new clothing store. It was packed, but the associates were lovely, taking the time to help her. One became her personal shopper, and Olivia tried on several outfits. In the end, the price tag was a little too high for her to buy any of the clothes. The jewelry, though, was buy one, get one half off, so she bought a green-and-blue multi-stranded necklace with matching dangling earrings.
Her personal shopper didn’t give her a hard time despite her trying on five different outfits. One of the dress in particular she loved and might come back for. Even better than her having a good time, but she had plenty of ideas for new articles for her blogs. How to best use a personal shopper, how to avoid the overly pushy ones, about the store, about the new trends in dresses, different and interesting color compliments that people wouldn’t think of right off the bat, and more.
After she purchased the jewelry, she placed the small bag inside her purse and departed the store.
Immediately, a man got up in her face. Thug. Craig Walt.
“Did you get that job you were after, sweetheart?” he asked, draping an arm over her shoulders.
Job? What job? Oh, yes, the BS line she’d given the assholes so she could get away from them.
“I did,” she said with a smile. “And no, I didn’t have to sleep with the boss to get it.”
“No? You need a good lay, then?” he asked, leering at her. He leaned over for a sloppy smooch, but she turned her head to the side, so his lips and tongue smacked against her cheek.
“Maybe,” she said, playing along. “Come on.”
She grabbed his hand, and he willingly allowed her to lead him into the dark alley beside the store. Once the shadows covered them, he immediately grabbed her boob, his other hand struggling to undo his pants.
Protecting Their Home (To Love And Defend Book 4) Page 7
