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“I don’t like being manhandled.” I speak through clenched teeth.
“Are you sure about that?” The smile on his face is long gone as he nods down at my chest. I glance down just enough to see my nipples straining against the thin white shirt I changed into earlier.
I barely manage to hold back a gasp as I cross my arms quickly across my chest, as if that’s going to erase the past thirty seconds. My face heats with embarrassment. It’s not like I can help my body’s reaction when my wolf hasn’t gotten the message that we arenotgoing there.
“You’re a prick.” My voice cracks.
“And you’re exasperating. You don’t want me to be an asshole, and you don’t want me to be nice and cook dinner. What the helldoyou want from me, Tasha?” His voice rasps with the exasperation he’s talking about.
“I didn’t want anything from you. In fact, I distinctly tried to get away from you only a day ago, so you don’t get to rush in pretending you’re some nice guy now because you cooked one meal.” I tighten my arms around myself.
I want him to fight back. I need him to because arguing reminds me of exactly who we are to each other. Nobody.
But instead of arguing, he hums under his breath and turns, leaving me staring at his back as he drags plates out of a cabinet as if he’s lived here all his life. It only makes me feel more off-kilter as I watch him looking so domestic while he plates home-cooked chicken and vegetables onto two ceramic plates. He looks like he belongs here even more than I do, and that only makes this whole situation more unsettling.
“Here you go.” He sets a plate gently in front of me.
Somehow, I feel chastised for picking a fight without him saying another word. A feeling that’s only made worse when instead of joining me at the table, he carries the other plate of food out of the kitchen and disappears into the house to eat alone.
I stare at the painting on the wall across from me. It’s a pack of brown wolves running together across an open plain. It feels like it’s taunting me.
I’m torn about how to move forward. Paxton seems determined to stay, and I know that’s the safest thing for the moment. But can I really survive being alone in this house together if my wolf decides to start pointing out all the ways Jimmy and Paxton are different? It feels like a betrayal of Jimmy.
Jimmy was a good mate and the best man. He cared for me, and we built a life together. I’m not going to just bulldoze Jimmy’s memory because some other shifter thinks he has a claim to me.
The fates have had their say, but now I get to have mine.
The only problem is, I clearly have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I’m not sure what I’m running from or what I’m running to. I was always the Jarreau that kept everything and everyone together, and now I’m lost. So lost. I don’t know where my brother is. My sister doesn’t need me because she has Dominic. And I’m supposed to be the Luna Sovereign, but I lack any kind of support.
Has every Luna Sovereign felt as lost as I do right now?
I try to pick at my food—it smells and looks delicious—but I’m overwhelmed. I slide the plate away from me, and I plant my elbows on the table and bury my face in my hands as a soft sob escapes me.
I cry for so long I’m not even sure why I’m crying anymore by the time a giant hand lands heavily between my shoulders, the edge of his thumb caressing my neck. It’s a comforting gesture I probably don’t deserve after acting like such a brat.
“Sweetheart, you have to fucking stop.” There’s pure anguish in Paxton’s voice as he kneels beside me, his other hand cupping my knee like he needs to actually touch me to check on me. If his wolf is as insistent about our mate bond as mine is, he probably does.
My wolf is desperate to speak, but I swallow it down. I’m starting to miss the weeks when I was mourning so deeply that my wolf wouldn’t speak at all. Nothing she seems to want to say right now is doing me any good.
“Tasha, tell me why you’re upset, dammit.” His fingers dig harder into my skin, proving a remarkable lack of patience.
I move one of my hands enough to uncover my mouth so I can speak, my words barely more than a whisper. “I loved my mate. You can’t just replace Jimmy with a hot meal and big muscles.”
He’s quiet for a long time. I can’t read his silence, and I’m too emotional to risk looking up at him. His thumb rubs steady circles along the base of my neck, the only sign that he isn’t too angry with me because his touch is surprisingly gentle.
“Okay,” he says finally. “I hear you, sweetheart. I hear you.”
When he pulls away, my skin instantly feels cold in the places where his hands were. I can hear the clink of the plate in front of me as he picks it up, and I don’t raise my head until his footsteps move away again. I listen as he opens the microwave behind me and starts the timer, obviously reheating my food for me.
I force myself to take deep, healing breaths as I listen to his every move. Even when I want to push him away, he’s right here being pushy and caring for me.
By the time he puts the plate back down in front of me, it doesn’t matter that he heard me. There’s an emotional, illogical part of me that wants to magically take back every word I said. Something in my gut says I don’t enjoy turning Paxton down, but I chalk it up to my wolf. She’s determined to accept the mate bond whether I’m ready or not.
Maybe you don’t know what’s good for you, she snips. This battle between my wolf and I is clearly just getting started.
14
Paxton
