Marriage Claws
Page 23
The only dark spot on the day had been Marcus’s bite mark. Jack’s love had put the essences of the wolf into my body, but Marcus’s first bite had made it permanent. The back of my calf would forever remind me of that horrific life-altering attack. Luckily, Jack knew a great tattoo artist. I had the scar covered with a tattoo of the Pillsbury Doughboy and the words “Kick-Ass Baker.” Yeah, I know, I’ll regret it when I’m eighty. But that’s what your twenties are for.
Anyway, I couldn’t invite my human friends to the pack ceremony, but Jack and I had only planned on a quick service at the courthouse. Just something to make everything legal.
It was Meredith, Jack’s mother, who begged us to do something bigger. The pack didn’t normally do the flowers, the poufy white gown, the bridesmaids and dresses . . . the shoes. For a group of people who enjoyed running around barefoot, the women in the pack seriously loved their shoes. Well, they are girls.
I gave Meredith, Anna, and several other pack women free rein to do whatever they wanted. All I needed was the date and time they wanted me and Jack to show up. Turns out it was a great decision.
The clearing in the forest behind the pack house had been transformed. The soft candlelit lanterns hung in the thick canopy of trees overhead, and long churchlike pews had been delivered to the house, then carried into the forest.
My gown was stunning—way better than the short Easter Sunday-type dress I’d bought from Target. Some habits die hard. My wedding gown clung to my body, shaping me, adding sexy curves and flattening the un-sexy curves. It flared just below the knees, with a five-foot-long train and pearl buttons running from the tip up to the small of my back.
The sleeves were made of lace and hugged my arms all the way past my wrists. The front was lace too with a silk lining underneath that plunged to the center of my chest. With an open back and a low front, I felt a little exposed—but I looked awesome.
After the ceremony the guests, a mix of both human and werewolf, moved to the manicured back grounds of the pack house. Meredith had the reception catered, of course, though she’d accepted my request that a new startup catering company get the contract. Diego’s Delights.
“How’s married life treating you, Diego?” I asked when he brought my and Jack’s dinners.
“Si, magnífico. You will like,” the small Cuban said with a happy smile. “Happy wife, happy life, eh Mister. Jack?”
Jack laughed beside me at the bridal table. “Words to live by. You let me know if you need anything. I like to protect my investments.”
“Si. You five percent is gonna be worth millions,” Lucas, Diego’s brother, said stepping up behind him. “You see. You see.”
The men chuckled but I couldn’t help the tear that pooled in my eye. In the months after my attack, Diego had finally asked his longtime girlfriend to marry him. She was an American, and after the marriage Diego got his citizenship. Who knew? But When Jack offered them a job at one of his swanky Pensione Company–owned restaurants, they turned him down.
With both brothers as legal residents, they were free to open their own business. Jack gave them the difference in capital they needed in exchange for five percent of their business. I think it was a wise investment.
“Kate, hey,” George said, pushing in between Lucas and Diego—interrupting. “I gotta go.”
I sat straighter. “What? Why?” That may have come out a little whiny.
“I have to be at the fish market by four A.M. tomorrow if I want to get the best pickings,” he said.
I slouched. “I thought you got the day off for the wedding.”
“I did. Today. And that was a small miracle. Chef Bastion wants a sous-chef he can count on. I can’t call off two days in a row.” George leaned across the table and kissed my cheek. “You look beautiful by the way, sis. Love you.”
I huffed, still feeling cheated. “Thanks. Is Lenny—”
Before I could finish my thought, my brother’s husband jogged up to the table, keys in hand. “Aw, don’t be sad. We were here for the most important part. The ceremony was amazing. You look stunning—and sexy as hell, by the way.”
My smile brightened. “Thanks.”
He leaned across the table the way my brother had to give me a peck on the cheek, then turned to Jack. “I’ll keep the office going while you’re cavorting around the wilderness on your honeymoon.”
“You had better,” Jack said. “I’ll probably call in—”
“No, he won’t,” I said before he could finish. I looked at him. “No. You won’t. Honeymoon means no work for either of us. You promised.”
Jack studied my face for a moment before a smile broke across his lips. He kissed me quick, and somewhere farther back under the big white tent people cheered. He looked to Lenny as he stood. “I won’t be calling. So don’t burn the place down.”
“Good tip.” Lenny gave my husband a hug, then stepped to the side for George to do the same. They waved as they walked away, zigzagging through the crush of round tables.
The food was amazing—a choice of surf or turf, all with a hint of Cuban pizazz. Friends and family took turns stepping up to our table to offer their congratulations.
“Such a beautiful ceremony, honey,” Marbella said. She looked great in her peach dress and the matching toile and flowered hat. The color set off her rich brown skin. “Now, will you two be back in time for Cece’s opening night?”
“Probably,” Jack said at the same time I said, “Absolutely.”
He looked at me, then back to Marbella. “Absolutely.”
Marbella chuckled. “I sure do miss seeing her, but I guess being in a Broadway play takes up a lot of your free time.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “I’m just thrilled she thought to bring the tickets by The New Sweet Spot.”
I’d known my former waitress wanted to be an actress, but like most people, I’d completely underestimated her.
“Speaking of the pastry shop,” Marbella said. “Talked to Brittney earlier. Been sending her pictures. She was so disappointed she couldn’t make it. But just between you and me, I think the power of being left in charge is going to that girl’s fool head. Y’know, she told me she done added a new cupcake flavor to the board.”
“She’s only been in charge for a day,” I said, although I was secretly impressed by the young mom’s confidence. Now that she’d given birth to her daughter—who was ah-dorable, by the way—she’d really come into her own. I guess having another little human being who totally depends on you will do that to a person. Brittney had two . . . the baby daddy moved in. Apparently there are some issues with playing video games instead of changing diapers, but they’ll work it out.
“I know,” Marbella said. “She’s callin’ the new cupcake Brittney’s Bonus, or some such craziness. And now she’s talkin’ ’bout social networkin’ and . . . How’d she say it? We got to ‘enhance our virtual storefront.’ I told her she needs to sit her butt down and eat somethin’, ’cause it sounds like that baby done left her light in the head.”
I laughed, reaching to give my friend’s hand a squeeze. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. You’re going back in the morning?”
“Yeah. The Pensiones offered to put me up here, but I already got a nice room at a B&B in town.” Her dark eyes flicked to Jack. “Tell your folks I really do appreciate the offer, will ya?”
“I will,” he said, his smile warm and genuine.
Marbella gave us each a hug then went back to her table. I can’t describe how wonderful it felt to call her weeks ago and ask her to come work for me again. She’d taken the job at the drag club with Madam Opal, but despite their unconditional welcome, Marbella still felt a little out of her element. Go figure.
She’d jumped at my job offer and seemed genuinely stunned when I asked if she’d consider a management position. The truth was, I needed her. I lost the diner. There was just no way around it. But I’d opened The New Sweet Spot, the pastry shop of my dreams, in the perfect little vacant shop we’d v
isited in the newly renovated Pensione building. They’d been taking bids from a few franchise coffee shops, but he’d turned them all down to keep his promise to me as best he could.
The moment I’d been welcomed into the pack as his mate, Jack had become the new alpha. That position made things easier, but Jack was discovering not everything is black and white and some rules are there for a reason. Still, he has a lot of plans for the pack. After we get back from our honeymoon, he can start making them happen.
Meredith Pensione gathered us from our table, hurrying us to cut the cake and then take our first dance as a married couple. By ten p.m., the party was in full swing . . . and I couldn’t wait to get my husband alone.
“You ready to take off, Mrs. Pensione?” Jack asked, his lips soft against my ear as we swayed on the dance floor.
“You lead, I’ll follow—Mr. Pensione,” I said. Too corny? Sue me. It’s my wedding day.
We said our goodbyes, prying free of hugs and kisses and awkward words of advice, and took a limo to the airport. From there, we chartered the Pensione jet—it’s good to be the alphas—to Koryak Okrug. For the geographically challenged, that’s in Russia. Seriously.
Why?
“It has the largest population of gray wolves in the world,” Jack said when I asked him. “And we have a cabin there.”
Turns out the Pensiones’ idea of a cabin was a French-style château made of wood—wood being the differentiating feature. It was beautiful, set off in the dense forest, fully stocked with everything we could possibly need. But as stunning as the house and the rich forest surrounding it was, it was nothing compared to the wolves.
I’d run with my new pack a few times since my initiation, and describing it as exhilarating would be a huge understatement. Running as a wolf was freeing, profoundly enlightening, and sublimely natural. But it was nothing compared to running with pure, wild wolves.
After Jack and I gave the alpha pair our allegiance, the rest of the pack welcomed us, eagerly sniffing the strange aromas we couldn’t help but have on our fur. Once we’d allowed even the lowest ranking wolf to meet and know us, we were one of them—wild and free just like them.
The hunt was on.
We tracked a herd of deer for half an hour, taking cues from our wild pack-mates that my wolf understood instinctively. Hours later, we lay together on the soft forest floor, cuddling with our brothers and sisters and playing with a litter of pups. It was an amazing experience, and one I never would’ve imagined a few months ago. One I never would’ve had if not for the sexy Prince charming of Wall Street, a strange business proposal, and a marriage contract.
It took us a while to get here, both of us fighting against what was destined to be from the start. I was born to be Jack’s mate, and he mine. Just like a part of me was born to be a wolf.
A marriage contract may not be the most romantic love story ever told. But when the proposal comes with a fur coat and real claws, it is so worth signing on the bottom line.
About the Author
PAIGE CUCCARO lives in Ohio, with her husband and three daughters. When she’s not writing, she can be found doing the mom thing with a book in one hand and a notepad and pen in the other. Ideas come without warning, and the best way to stimulate her imagination is to enjoy the imagination of someone else.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
About the Author
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
MARRIAGE CLAWS. Copyright © 2017 by Paige Cuccaro. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover photographs: smoke © Claire McAdams/Shutterstock.com; claw marks © Iunewind/Shutterstock.com; moon © Mike Pellinni/Shutterstock.com; couple © Ivashstudio/Shutterstock.com; forest © Masik0553/Shutterstock.com
ISBN 978-1-250-12923-9 (ebook)
First Edition: June 2017
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