Like to be doing a lot of other things for you, to you, whatever.
She nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and pushed dirty thoughts of Carter out of her mind. “Aren’t you the least bit worried that the council is going to see through this? I’m not like your other girlfriends. I’m going to have to pretend to be somebody completely different to make this believable.” The thought saddened her, though she didn’t know why.
“I don’t think you should be anyone but you. That’s the only way this will work.” He kicked his feet out and back, his jeans pulling taut over his legs as he stretched them out. “Do you want a wedding?”
Her coffee was fresh, but it wasn’t bold enough for this discussion. “Dawson’s the only family I have and I’d really rather him not know about the arrangement. Wouldn’t want him to feel like he’s a burden. He knows I’m not dating anyone, so announcing an engagement would send up a bunch of red flags. It’ll be better if he doesn’t know.”
“Understood.”
“What about you? Do you have any family to warn about an upcoming nuptial?”
“I have a sister who lives in Chicago and a half brother in Greece.” He sipped on his coffee. “They didn’t come to my first wedding so I don’t see why they’d care about my second.”
She was curious about his first marriage and his first wife, but now wasn’t the time to ask. Now that she thought about it, he didn’t talk much about his parents, his siblings, or his love life.
“What about your parents?” Faith asked. They were both born wolves. That was all she’d been told. “Will they be interested in knowing about an engagement or upcoming wedding?”
“My parents died fifty years ago.”
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know that. What about your friends? Anyone in the pack you’re close to?”
“Oh yeah, I’ve got hundreds of friends.” He smirked. “But none measure up to you.”
“Put your big game away, Casanova. I’ve got enough sweetness in my coffee.” Why did he insist on toying with her emotions? “So what’s our story? We should work out the kinks before tomorrow night.”
He stepped off the swing and joined her at the railing, peering out into the yard. The sun peeked through the canopy of fir above them, picking up subtle highlights in his dark hair. Why’d he have to be so good-looking? It’d be easier to see him as a friend and only a friend, if he didn’t have the whole sexy-yet-dangerous Colin Farrell vibe going on.
“I think we should stick to the basics, keeping as true as we can to how we really met. We should say I moved in next door to you last year and we hit it off right away. You knew from the moment you saw my rugged good looks that I was the one for you.”
“Oh yeah.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly how it happened. I think you couldn’t keep your dirty paws off my bodacious bod.”
He turned, leaning back against the railing. “You do have curves for days.”
Despite the way he was playfully ogling her body, she knew full well he didn’t like women with soft stomachs and a little something extra on their hips. The women he dated were rail-skinny and had somehow discovered a way to make every ounce of fat on their body suck to their breasts. Even in wolf form, she had a little bit of meat to her. She wasn’t one of those dainty wolves who looked like she could be tossed around by her mate. No, Faith was bigger than the average female. And stronger.
She stood upright and flattened her shirt down her stomach. “We should set up other rules, too.”
He nodded. “Like what?”
“I don’t think you should be able to date anyone while you’re dating me.” She chose her words carefully. “If the council thinks I’m your wife and they see you around town with someone else, that would reflect on me.”
“That’s fair.” He emptied his cup. “I won’t date anyone until this is over. But if I can’t date anyone, you shouldn’t be able to either. Tit for that and all that stuff.”
“Gosh, now I’ll have to cancel all my dates and I’ll be making phone calls all day.” She tsked. “Somehow I think I’ll manage that part. Any other rules you want to set up while we’re on the subject?”
He nailed her with a glare that sizzled the blood in her veins. “Honesty first and foremost. I won’t be lied to.”
Good, because she didn’t want to be lied to, either.
More importantly though, she didn’t want to look stupid. In any way, shape, or form.
She’d had enough of that when she was younger, when the kids in school would make fun of the scar on her neck. Then, when she thought she’d put the past behind her and finally accepted the permanent marking, her ex-boyfriend had thrown it in her face.
Look at you, he’d said during their very public breakup. You’re more beast than beauty. All I see when I look at you is a cut that didn’t go deep enough.
She’d broken up with him after he said it. Actually, that was an understatement: she’d thrown her drink in his face and then broken his nose with a left jab. But she heard the gasps and whispers from other patrons in the restaurant, long after she’d left. The memory of that moment had her cheeks burning and her stomach churning with hatred.
He’d been an asshat to say such a thing, and she hadn’t thought much about him since. But the feeling of being humiliated that way, publicly, still hurt.
She took a deep breath to calm herself down. “I won’t lie to you,” she said. “And one more rule: you will not make me feel like a fool.”
“Deal.” He extended his hand and she took it. His skin was rough, but warm.
It wasn’t the marriage proposal she’d been dreaming of since she was a little girl, even though the man himself was pretty darn close to what she’d imagined her hunky groom to be.
“When’s the wedding?” she asked, taking back her hand.
Their contact didn’t seem to faze him one bit. “Do we have to decide right now? Can’t we be engaged for a while first?”
“We can, but when a couple gets engaged, they usually start planning.” Absentmindedly, she rubbed the spot on her left hand where he would put a wedding band. “If we have a date in mind, it’ll look more realistic.”
“Hmm.” He nodded, agreeing. “Six months from now sounds vague enough. Sometime in June or July?”
“That’ll work.”
His gaze caught on her hand. “I completely forgot. You’ll need an engagement ring for tomorrow night’s dinner.”
A warm blush fanned over her cheeks. “No, I don’t think—”
“I’ve got to run.” He set the mug on the railing and swept down the steps to the front yard before she could stop him. “See you tomorrow morning? Around ten?”
She frowned. “What’s happening in the morning?”
“We’re going through your closet to pick what you’re going to wear for dinner.”
“I’m fully capable of choosing my own clothes.”
He turned back at his driver’s door. “When was the last time you wore something other than jeans and Converse? And yoga pants don’t count.”
“I—” Damn.
“Everything about tomorrow night has to be perfect. I’m not leaving anything to chance.” He slid into his truck, rolled down the passenger window, and leaned across the bench seat. “See you tomorrow, wifey!”
The coffee in her stomach tumbled at the name.
Oh, God.
Was she ready for this?
She checked her watch. She had two dogs to pick up for walks in fifteen minutes and another three shortly after that, and since she’d forgotten to update her blog last night, she’d have to squeeze that somewhere into her day.
She bolted into her house, snatched her cell, and called her best friend Tracy for backup.
Chapter Six
Bright and early Sunday morning, Faith eyed Carter as he strode through her living room door, a Starbucks cup in his hand. He looked completely relaxed in a black T-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. It wasn’t every day he expos
ed his sleeve tattoos this way, either. They wrapped around his wrists and snaked up his arm in all shapes and colors. The urge to lift his sleeve and trace the dark lines over his shoulder struck her hard.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, as she slammed the door shut behind him. “You ready for today?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Faith checked the clock. When she called Tracy last night, her friend had said she’d show up first thing Sunday morning to help pick out an outfit. Tracy was perpetually late. Blast. Faith would’ve felt a lot better about this whole thing with Tracy’s opinion. Carter said he’d help, but outside of white cotton T-shirts and jeans, he had little fashion sense.
Faith knelt near the travel kennel that had been dropped off just before Carter showed up, and bent to peer inside. A tiny black-and-white ball of fur huddled in the corner.
“What’s in the crate?” he asked, perching on the edge of a barstool.
She unlatched the gate, swung it open, and reached inside. “It’s a male black-and-tan teacup Yorkie. Pets and Paws Animal Shelter didn’t have room for him and didn’t want to send him to another shelter where he might’ve been euthanized.”
“Are you fostering him?”
“For a while.” Faith smiled as her fingers sank into silky soft fur. She wrapped her hand around its delicate frame. The shelter had her number on file as a volunteer foster if they filled up. She took on adoptable dogs from time to time. “Someone will want this little guy, so he’ll stay here until the shelter or I can find him a good home.” She pulled out the pup. “Here he is.”
She cupped him in her hands and held him against her. He was soft and warm, cuddling up against her. But as she turned to show Carter, the dog squirmed and fought to get out of her arms.
“Easy there,” she whispered. “Easy.”
“I think they dropped off the wrong animal,” he said. “That’s a rat!”
“No, it’s a teacup. They’re supposed to be this small.” Laughing, Faith fought to control the black-and-white ball of fur. “This guy doesn’t seem to want to be held.”
Gently, she set the dog down. It scurried to Carter’s side like its fur was on fire, and latched onto the tip of his boot. It pumped furiously, its petite backside doing an erratic version of the Humpty Dance.
“What the hell?” Carter gave the dog a little shake. “Run all the way over here for a quick hump?”
The puppy wouldn’t shake off.
“Looks like he likes you,” Faith said. “Must be those rugged good looks you were talking about.”
“Shut.” Carter wiggled his foot around. “Up.”
“Come!” Faith ordered. She patted her leg. “Puppy, come!”
“Could you say something else?” Carter leveled her with a flat stare. “Call him by name.”
“He doesn’t have one.” She walked across the living room and scooped up the horny pooch. He stared at Carter, a crazed look in his tiny brown eyes. “Since you two are so close now, I think you should name him.”
“Nah, I’ll leave that to you.” He reached out and petted the puppy, stroking his hands over his black-and-white-splotched coat. “Did you get something formal to wear tonight?”
“Did you?”
“I’m wearing a tux.”
“Fancy.” When the pooch stopped panting, she tucked him under her arm and carried him into her bedroom. This time, Carter didn’t follow. “I called Tracy over to give a woman’s opinion on what to wear,” she called out. “She should be here any minute.”
The sound of tires over gravel stirred through the house.
“On the money,” Carter said from the living room. “Did you tell her about the…ah, arrangement?”
Cradling the pooch with one hand, Faith opened her closet with the other, yanked out the fanciest clothes she had and tossed them on her bed. “No, I told her that you asked me out. You’re taking me somewhere swanky tonight.”
“Sounds good.”
The door creaked open. The pooch yapped and squirmed to get free. He’d have to work on his mounting issues. Too bad some of that pent-up sexual energy couldn’t be transferred from dogs to werewolves. She knew of one in particular to give it to…
“Hey Carter,” Faith heard Tracy say. “How’ve you been?”
“Well enough.”
“It’s about time you asked Faith out, she’s been—”
“Tracy!” Faith hollered, and then stuck her head around the corner. “Glad you came.”
Now if her friend would just shut her mouth before she said something totally embarrassing. Tracy knew all about her feelings for Carter, about their standing Friday movie nights, and how he’d never once made a move. God, could she be more pathetic?
Tracy skirted around the corner and gasped when she laid eyes on the pup.
“Oh. My. Gawd.” Her jaw went slack. “Isn’t he the cutest?”
She ripped him from Faith’s arms before she could hand him over.
Cupping the dog in her hands, Tracy rubbed his fur against her face, made mewing sounds against his belly, and let him lick her face. They were practically bonded. Well, except for the fact that Tracy wasn’t a werewolf and didn’t know about werewolves or their lifelong bonding process.
Considering they’d just tongued, those were minor details.
“Where’d you get him?” Tracy cooed, her blue eyes twinkling bright. “He’s just the most adorable little thing. Aren’t you, boy? Aren’t you?”
“I’m watching him for the shelter. Mind holding him while I show you what I was thinking for tonight?”
“Not at all.” Tracy settled onto the edge of the bed and continued to make out with the furball. “We’ll sit and watch together.”
“I’m still here,” Carter yelled from the living room. “I want to see.”
“Why do you care so much about her wardrobe, anyway?” Tracy balked. “Are you a control freak or something?”
Faith heard Carter sigh through the closed bedroom door. “I don’t want to tell her where we’re going for dinner, but I want to make sure she’s dressed appropriately.”
“That makes sense…I guess.”
After kicking off her Converse, Faith stripped out of her jeans and cable-knit sweater. She stepped into a deep purple pantsuit, zipped up, and shrugged into the matching coat. “Option one,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “What do you think?”
As Tracy detached her face from the pooch, she shrieked. “Sweetheart, the color’s great, but the outfit is only an option if it’s 1993. Are those…shoulder pads?”
“No!” Faith jabbed at her shoulders to make sure. “Maybe. It’s not that bad.”
“It’s not that great.” Tracy leaned over the bed, and mouthed the next words. “You want him to like you, right?”
How to answer?
Faith nodded, feeling naked even though she was cloaked in purple polyester.
“Then take it off. And burn it.”
“Show me,” Carter barked.
As Faith opened the bedroom door to show him, Tracy lifted the pup in front of her face and hid behind him.
Carter laughed. Covered it with a gulp of his Starbucks. “Tracy’s right. Burn it.”
“I said it was an option.” Faith grabbed the open door and slammed it shut. In Carter’s laughing face.
She stripped down and dressed in option number two, a simple black dress with spaghetti straps and a low-cut front. The bottom was plain, reaching her feet, but the top showed off “the girls.”
“Better?” she asked Tracy, spinning around.
Tracy peeked out from behind the pup, who whimpered at the sight of the dress.
“Better,” she said, flipping her blond curls over her shoulder. “But not right. Go show Carter that one so he sees the rack you’re always hiding under those hideous T-shirts.”
Faith planted her hands on her hips. She didn’t want to show him her rack. She wanted him to like her for who she was. To think she was sexy no matter what she wore.
&
nbsp; “Move,” Tracy mouthed. “Show him what he’s missing.”
With a huff, Faith shuffled into the living room and spun around. Carter had moved to the couch and slid forward so that his body was flat, with his head supported by a scrunched-up throw pillow. Thoughts of straddling his middle invaded Faith’s brain. He could stay just like that. She could put her feet on the floor on either side of his him…
“Faith!” he said. “Did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry.” She shook dirty thoughts of him out of her head. “What?”
“I said you’ve got a lint sheet stuck right—there, right there on the back.”
Disaster. She showed him what he was missing all right. A freaking lint sheet.
She twisted and bent around, ripped the sheet off, and crumpled it into a ball. “What do you think? Overall?”
“I think we’re getting closer. Do you remember that girl I took to the office Christmas party last year? Vixienne?”
Of course. Couldn’t forget a name or a woman like that. She was a complete hooch, salivating over every word Carter said. Faith had only met “Vixi” once, but it was enough to leave a bad taste in her mouth. She’d painted a picture that things were too perfect: her boobs were too perky, their sex was too hot, he cuddled with her all night long, bibbity-boppity-blah.
“I think so,” Faith said, repressing her gag reflex. “Red hair, Jessica Rabbit type?”
“No, I like redheads,” he corrected. “She was the blonde, Fatal Attraction type.”
“Don’t remember.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.” He sat upright. “Anyhow, she knew how to put on a good show. How to make everyone in the room think that she was the most gorgeous one there, even if she wasn’t. She oozed confidence and grace, and that’s what made her sexy.”
“It’s probably also what made her crazy,” Tracy said from the doorway. “But if it’s ‘sexy starlet’ that you’re going for, I can turn our duck into a swan. I’ll need a few hours alone with her.”
So I Married a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) Page 4
