Alpha Moon (The Cain Chronicles) (Seasons of the Moon) (7 page)

“He’s very sweet,” she agreed, picking at the lace on her sleeve. “And funny.”

“And muscular,” Jessica said. “I bet that’s fun. Good job.”

“
Mom
.”

“I wasn’t looking.”

Then how would she have noticed that he was muscular? She decided not to ask. It was better not to know some things about one’s mother.

“We’re going to have to run an errand while we’re here. I hope you don’t mind,” Rylie said, leaning on the window to look at the mountains outside. Somewhere, deep in the trees, was a valley waiting for her and her pack.

“I’ve already driven this far with you two,” Jessica said. “I don’t think we have much choice at this point.”

“It might involve some hiking.”

“…Hiking?”

“You can just wait in the truck,” Rylie said. It would be far preferable to trying to explain why she was throwing half of her trust fund at some guy who talked like he was constantly sucking helium.

Abel flopped into the booth again, giving Rylie a long, hard look that said he had heard her calling him sweet. It was both an angry and sensual expression.

If he had told her that his stare could see through her clothing, Rylie would have believed him. He had a way of stripping her with his eyes that never failed to make her blush. Even sitting next to her mom at some small-town diner, she couldn’t help trembling.

“Want to tell us why you’re visiting, Mrs. Gresham?” Abel asked.

“Oh,” Jessica said. “That.” She thumbed a ring on her left hand. “Well, it’s kind of a long story…”

Rylie hadn’t noticed that her mother was wearing a ring earlier, though she wasn’t sure how she had missed it. The diamond looked like it probably weighed enough to go on every ride at Disneyland.

She grabbed Jessica’s hand. “This isn’t a…?” Rylie couldn’t finish the question.

“I’ve met someone,” Jessica said.

“You meet a lot of people. You’re a CEO.”

“A special someone. His name is Phillip.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“He’s an artist—a painter, actually. We went to him to commission portraits of the partners for the office, and—”

Rylie was shaking her head, and she couldn’t seem to stop.

Jessica kept going. “After a while, one thing led to another. We fell in love. Phillip and I—”

“But what about Dad?” Rylie interrupted.

Dad had only died four years earlier. Jessica couldn’t possibly have fallen in love again already. Especially not when the heart attack had been so sudden, so brutal.

Her mother hung her head, brushing a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “Your father and I were already divorcing when he died. I let him go a long time ago, and I believe he would want me to be happy.”

Somehow, Rylie seriously doubted that Dad would have wanted Jessica marrying some weird painter guy. They hadn’t divorced on good terms. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Rylie said, dropping her head into her hands. Her eyes were blurry, cheeks burning.

“That’s why I needed to tell you in person. I had hoped to do it over a nice dinner, but…” Jessica smiled helplessly. “I suppose this is as good a time as any.”

If they hadn’t driven so far away from home, Rylie would have left at that instant. Forget milkshakes, forget buying real estate, and
especially
forget her mom’s stupid visit. She would have ripped off her boots and fled into the comfort of her wolf’s animal mind. And she wouldn’t have come back until Jessica was gone.

But now they were stuck in Northgate together, all three of them, and Rylie couldn’t leave.

How
could
she?

“I hoped you would be my maid of honor,” Jessica said.

Rylie wanted to die. “I need to use the bathroom.”

She didn’t wait for Jessica to stand. She climbed over the table to get out of the booth, ignored the “mister” and “missus” bathroom signs, and fled outside.

Even though she knew, rationally, that she shouldn’t leave Abel and Jessica alone—that her mom was likely to say something horrifyingly rude, maybe even something racist—she couldn’t bring herself to go back inside. Rylie paced up and down the sidewalk, gasping for air.

The wolf itched under her skin, threatening to break free.

The mountains were just a few short minutes away, if she sprinted with werewolf speed. She wouldn’t have to deal with her mom. She wouldn’t have to deal with
anyone
. She was wolf, she was Alpha; freedom was only a shift away.

A bell jingled.

“What’s your problem?” Abel asked.

Rylie shut her eyes, clenched her fists.
Not right now…

His warm presence moved to her back, all but caressing her with his aura. Alpha energy crackled over her. “You’re acting real fucking weird, Rylie.”

She spun on him. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised that her vision was blurred by tears.

“My dad died, and my mom’s already moving on,” Rylie said. “Am I supposed to be okay with this?”

“Yeah. You are.”

Her mouth dropped open with shock. “
What
?”

“You were gonna marry Seth last year, and now you’re with me. Do you think you shouldn’t be happy just because of what you did in the past?” Abel dismissed the idea with a snort.

“Seth’s not dead.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re going back in there, and you’re going to be respectful to the woman that made you.”

Considering that Abel’s mother had been an insane monster, it was awfully rich for him to be on a pro-mom rant.

“It’s none of your business,” Rylie said.

“Actually, yeah, it is, ‘cause we’re together and all now—not that you seem to remember that.” Abel glowered at her, arms folded over his chest, gold eyes sparking with anger. “Your mom might think I’m less, but that’s fine. I don’t give two fucks what some rich bitch thinks of me. But you’ve got no excuse for acting embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” she protested.

“So why aren’t you sitting next to me? Talking to me? Shit, I’d take a few smiles from you right about now.”

“I’m kind of distracted, Abel.”

His thin smile stretched the scars on his face. They were slowly healing every time he changed into a werewolf, but the spidery imprint of old ridges still touched the side of his mouth. “You’re better than that.”

God, what had she been doing?
Was
she acting embarrassed? She loved Abel, giddy with the blush of obsession and proud to be with him in a partnership. But it was the same thing with Summer: Rylie didn’t want her mom to have anything to do with him, because she didn’t want Jessica judging their family.

Obviously, it hadn’t worked. Jessica was judging away. All Rylie had accomplished was hurting Abel’s feelings.

The apology wouldn’t mean anything to Abel, so she didn’t try to put her embarrassment into words. She stretched onto her toes to loop her arms around his neck.

“You’re right,” she said, and she kissed him.

He was stiff for a moment, refusing to respond. But then his hands went to her waist, and he stooped to deepen the kiss. Even with his hands remaining somewhere chaste, the way he kissed her was just as intimate as his long, burning gazes. His tongue explored her mouth with sensual familiarity. He knew exactly how to make her body heat for him, and Rylie soon forgot that they were standing outside a fifties-themed diner while her mother waited inside.

Until she smelled silver.

Abel scented it at the same time. Their lips separated, eyes falling on the parking lot. A black SUV rolled past the street on the other side.

His fingers tightened on her waist, pulling her hard against him, turning his shoulders to block her from view. “Abel,” she whispered urgently, digging her fingernails into his biceps.

“I see it,” he growled, pressing her back to the wall. The sun-warmed metal burned through her shirt. Her heart pounded as she buried her face in his chest, eyes closed. Abel craned around to continue watching the SUV.

“Is it coming around?” she asked.

A long pause. “No.”

Rylie clutched his shirt in both fists. “What are we going to do?”

He gazed down at her, eyes hot. “Stick to the plan,” Abel said. “We’ve got to get to the office.” He hesitated, hand traveling from her hip to her thigh, toying with the edge of her skirt. “I’m not going to let you get arrested, Rylie.”

A bright voice spoke behind them. “I got everything to go. Are you two ready to…?” Jessica trailed off at the sight of Abel and Rylie pressed against the wall. It occurred to Rylie that it probably looked bad—really bad, considering that Jessica had no idea Abel had any reason to try to hide Rylie from the cars on the street.

But she didn’t pull away. In fact, she snuggled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist, and gave her mom a defiant look.

“We’ll be right there,” Abel said. His voice rumbled under Rylie’s cheek.

Jessica’s face burned bright red. She clutched the bag of food tighter and hobbled to the truck on her heels.

“You know, y’all could be sisters,” Abel said.

Rylie grimaced. It probably wasn’t meant to be an insult. “Yeah. I know.”

ABEL, RYLIE, AND
Jessica idled at the stoplight just outside Poppy’s. Through the rearview mirror, Rylie watched a black SUV pull into the diner’s parking lot. A pair of men in all-black uniforms stepped out. She somehow doubted that they were looking for slices of the best cherry pie in the county.

They had just missed them. Barely.

Jessica was silent until Abel pulled up in front of Bert’s office. “What are we doing here?” she asked, leaning forward to peer at the sign over the door:
Robert Grant Real Estate
. “I thought you said we were hiking.”

Time to bite the silver bullet and be honest. “I decided to buy some property, Mom.”

Jessica’s eyes flicked to Abel. “A house?”

“Not exactly. Somewhere that I could build a house.”

Her voice sharpened. “With what money?”

Rylie rolled her eyes. Jessica knew exactly what money Rylie would be using. Her mom had never exactly been thrilled that Dad left everything to Rylie.

They climbed out of the pickup, and, with a quick check of the street—no SUVs—headed into the office. His waiting room, decorated in dark wood and leather, was clearly meant to cater to an expensive clientele. He offered water bottles in a minifridge built to hold wine; biscotti and tea waited on the table beside it. The frosted glass door leading into his office was imprinted with his name.

“Maybe you guys should stay here,” Rylie said, giving Abel another look. “Get to know each other a little? I don’t think the paperwork will take long.”

“Gonna skip the walk-through?” Abel asked.

Rylie nodded. It didn’t seem like the time to go hiking, what with the Union and Jessica. Fortunately, Abel didn’t argue.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he said, sprawling on one of the black leather couches.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jessica sat across from him, ankles crossed and purse in her lap.

The door swung open. The man who poked his head through didn’t look like the man that Rylie had been speaking to on the phone. He was built like a bear in business casual, with refined wings of gray hair on either side of his head. Rylie blinked, surprised.

But then he opened his mouth.

“Miss Gresham?” Yeah, he definitely sounded like the guy from the Beegees.

“Bert,” she said, extending her hand. They shook.

Bert’s eyes flicked to the others in his waiting room. He doubtlessly would have preferred to meet with Jessica, who looked like she belonged in such a fancy office, but he would have to settle for Rylie in her cowboy boots and floaty white skirt.

“Can I get you anything?” he squeaked. “Cappuccino? Tea?”

Rylie hated both, but she was tempted to ask for a cappuccino just to make him serve her. “No, thanks,” she said, following him into his office.

She knew that something was wrong the instant that the door clicked shut behind her. Bert kept casting weird glances at her, fidgeting with the snifter of whiskey on his bookshelf, adjusting his collar, flattening his pockets. All of the paperwork was spread over his desk, yet the air was thick with fear. Was he worried the deal would fall through?

In between his fidgeting fits, he managed to gesture at the chair. “Have a seat, please.”

Rylie stayed by the door.

“Where’s the notary?” she asked.

“She already notarized everything.”

She leaned forward to peer at the paperwork. He was right—it was already stamped and signed. Weren’t notaries meant to be witnesses? Rylie had no idea. Being an Alpha hadn’t given her any experience with contracts.

To heck with it. Might as well ask. “That’s not normal, is it?”

“Considering the nature of this deal, I thought it might help to speed things up,” Bert said, perching on the edge of his chair. He spread out a few forms, then put his hands in his lap again. He glanced at the wall clock. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

Rylie bit her bottom lip. She wished she had brought Abel in with her.

“I’ll take water, I guess,” she said. “I’ll grab it.”

He stood so quickly that his chair rolled away from him. “No, please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll get it.”

Bert’s smile was fixed to his face as he strode to the door, giving Rylie a wide berth. She watched him go with growing unease.

He didn’t
smell
like a threat. In fact, the scent of fear was extremely appealing to her inner wolf. It wanted her to drop to the floor and roll in it. Fortunately, that idea was disgusting enough to her human side that she didn’t do it. But she couldn’t quite resist the urge to trace her fingertips over the back of his chair and smell them. Her eyelids dropped closed at the heady scent of fear. The smell of a prey in the sights of a predator.

Rylie’s eyes popped open.

Did Robert Grant know that she was a werewolf?

She peered through the crack in the door to see him talking to Jessica. Abel stood by the front windows, watching the street outside. Rylie didn’t see any “We Report Preternaturals” signs. He didn’t even have the OPA emblem sticker on anything, which had become a common way for mundane humans to display support for anti-preternatural laws.