He walked toward the door. Dean was one of the few men he actually trusted.
“Give her the e-reader,” Dean said, catching his attention again.
“What?”
“You bought her the damn thing. Give it to her over dinner tonight and start talking. I don’t know. Sit with her while she downloads books. Don’t give up.”
Nick would certainly think about it. He’d love the chance to hold her in his arms before she fell to sleep.
“What happened with the alphas?” he asked, interested to know what was going on in the world he’d left behind.
“They’re talking about the selling of women. They’ve stumbled onto the websites along with the auctions of female wolves. They’re not happy and are asking for my help.”
“I take it I was mentioned.”
“Yes, but more as a topic of interest, Nick. I believe they regret outlawing you.”
“Well, they did, and there’s no going back. I’ll see you soon,” Nick said, ready to leave.
“If they were to offer you back your status and give you a pack, would you take it?” Dean asked.
“No, I wouldn’t.” Nick didn’t hesitate in answering. In the early days of becoming an outlaw he’d have taken his pack back at the first moment. Now, he wouldn’t dream of going back. They could give him back his pack and easily take it away.
“Why not?”
“I no longer want a pack that’s overruled by a collective of alphas who think they’re above the law.”
“It was a long time ago, Nick. You’ve got to get over one man’s actions.” Dean placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He shrugged the hand off.
“You didn’t see what he did to her. If you did, you wouldn’t be trying to bring me back into the fold. My life as an alpha ended that day.” Nick walked out of the office, thankful to leave his past behind.
Clara knew the truth, and it was time for him to man up. It wasn’t her fault he still felt guilty for putting the female in harm’s way.
The drive home didn’t last long enough. He entered the house and heard Clara making something in the kitchen. The scent of her baking filled the house. He noticed she baked a lot. Nick had taken her spare baking into the office so none of it went off.
He couldn’t be that moody to share his woman’s baking, could he?
Either way, he went to his office, putting his case away then grabbing the e-reader from the desk. It was all set up ready to receive books.
Give it to her.
She used to meet him the moment he walked into the house after he shouted at her. After the third day of him yelling at her, she stopped welcoming him home.
He’d fucked up. Keeping hold of the e-reader, Nick was determined to fix what he’d broken.
****
Clara kept mixing the potatoes even as she heard Nick enter the house. She had fucked up and hadn’t gotten the opportunity to apologize to him. There was only so much shouting she could deal with, so she tried to stay out of his way. She tried not to feel the hurt of being cut off from all contact. The last week with Nick had been the same as living with her parents. He didn’t talk to her, only accepted silence, and she spent most of her time trying to avoid him. The latest batch of cookies was cooling on the tray.
The only consolation she found was him taking her baking into work. At least nothing went off. She found the cookbooks in one of the cupboards, and her days had been spent marking the pages of the recipes she wanted to cook. He never complained about what she cooked, nor did he voice happiness at the food she presented to him.
The chicken and roast potatoes were keeping warm, and she tasted the mashed potatoes to see for their seasoning. Once they were done, she walked into the dining room to set their places.
When that was done, she went and served up. Putting the two plates on the mats, she removed the apron she used to keep her clothes nice and clean.
She wore a pair of tight jeans and red shirt that molded to her curves. Licking her lips, she pinched her cheeks hoping to put some color back into them. Seconds later she knocked on his office door, which was closed.
“What?” he asked.
Shrinking away from his anger, she called through the door hoping he heard.
“Dinner is served,” she said, moving away before he answered. Her place setting was beside him. Moving it three chairs down like the other times she took a seat and started to eat.
Clara refused to cry at his harsh words.
He joined her, stopping beside her chair. She stayed tense wondering if he would send her away. Holding her breath, she waited for him to move before eating again.
She sped up eating in the hope of getting away from him quickly.
“How was your day?” he asked.