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“Holy shit, you got real dark there. Send me the email address, I’ll do it.”
“I remember the part about the chain,” Alicia says abruptly, her expression as wooden as her voice. The bickering from across the table falls silent. “That it was comparable to the werewolf making a marriage proposal—the chain connects her to the man she loves until he either rejects her or accepts her. And he if accepts her and the beast, it heals the rift the curse put between them, and they become whole. If he rejects them, she and the beast die.”
“No way in hell am I rejecting you.” I’ve already accepted Alicia. All of her. “So we’ve just got to wait until you love me and your chain is around my neck.”
Her eyes suddenly glow bright green, shimmering with tears. “Except that’s not all, is it? It’s not only that I have to fall in love with you. You have to love me, too. And I—” She breaks off, her trembling lips pressing tight together, despair flaring through her scent.
Abruptly she shakes her head and is up out of the seat, heading for the restaurant exit.
Shit. I start to haul up after her, but a boot planted in the seat that Alicia just vacated stops me from sliding out.
“Hold up, Ranger Ranger.” Sam must know that I can move her foot with a flick of a finger, but doesn’t seem to give a fuck. “Let her be for a minute.”
My jaw clenches. “She’s scared and hurting, goddammit.”
“Yeah, she is. She’s also about to cry, and she hates it when anyone sees her do that. So give her a minute to pull herself together, so she’s not scared and hurting and embarrassed.”
Fuck. I want to argue, but Alicia’s sister knows her better than I do. And I’d be a fool not to listen.
With a snarl, I settle back down, my gaze following Alicia out of the restaurant. She doesn’t go far. Just leans back against the brick wall of a storefront and tilts her head up, gasping in air.
I’m watching her, barely listening as Brandon asks Sam, “Are you married? You don’t smell married.”
“How the hell does a married woman smell?”
Like she’s got a man in her bed, his scent clinging to her. Even after her shower, Alicia came down smelling like that. And her scent’s all over me, too.
I’m fond of smelling married already.
Brandon doesn’t explain that part. And doesn’t conceal his satisfaction when he says, “Divorced, then. Are you over him? Do you need a rebound?”
“Do you like digging holes or does it just happen?”
“Kind of just happens. But I’m actually trying to figure out why your name tag says ‘Green’ and your sister is a Simmons.”
“Why is he Ranger and you’re Brandon?”
“Anywhere but here and home, I’m Ranger, too.”
“But are you a Ranger Ranger? Because that’s twice the Ranger.”
“Until about three weeks ago, I was.”
“Forest Service, too?”
“Army Ranger.”
“Shit. I had you pegged as a jarhead.”
“Now I’m deeply, sincerely offended. So you make it up to me by telling me why you’re a Green. Are you married? Or was Alicia?”
I know she wasn’t. Still the mention of Alicia’s name draws my attention away from her for the barest second, to see her sister watching me with a considering look in her eyes.
“Try again,” she tells Brandon.
My brother finally pulls his head out of her marital status. “Stepsister?”
“Close. Except her dad and my mom never married. Just lived together for a while. Until my mom realized there was nothing but an asshole beneath that charming smile. So she kicked him out, but we kept Alicia.”
Outside, Alicia stiffens slightly. As if suddenly listening in.
Then she goes rigid when I ask, “And her father just let you keep her?”
“Let us?” Samantha laughs bitterly. “He was all too happy to wash his hands of her. But her mom was just as bad. Her biological mom, that is. And between the two of them, they bounced her back and forth for almost fourteen years, neither one wanting her. And telling her so. But we wanted her. So we kept her.”
Parents who didn’t want her or love her like they should. Who tore her down. Might be why she was so certain I wouldn’t stay. And why she thinks that I’ll never love her or accept her.
Jaw set and thumbs flying, Alicia types on her phone.
Her sister’s buzzes, and after a brief glance at the message, Sam lifts her voice. “You want me to shut up, come in here and stop me before I start telling him what happens to a shy, nerdy girl in high school when she’s got buck teeth and braces, crazy red hair, and eyeglasses as thick as paperweights. He ought to know why you’re so fucking afraid and that it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with his fangs.”
