Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Let’s get this over with.”
Robert holds my hand as we walk up the front path. Hunter leads, and I cringe a little at the big impression I know he'll make. He’s let his hair grow longer and his beard, too. Since the claiming, his shoulders, chest, and arms have broadened, and his bear form has become more obvious through his human skin. The same has happened to Robert and Evan, as though they’re physiologically gearing up to protect the cubs they’re intent on making. Maybe I’m pregnant now. The urge to rest my hand over my belly is one I force myself to resist. Mom would pick up on that in a flash, and introducing three men is difficult enough without adding a surprise pregnancy into the mix.
Hunter rings the bell and steps back. He rolls his shoulders, the first hint that he’s gearing up for some unpleasantness.
Dad opens the door, and his expression when he sees me surrounded by three handsome, rugged giants is comical. “Goldie.” His gaze sweeps across Hunter, Robert, and Evan, and he steps back into the house, holding the door open. “Come in.”
I’m used to the formality of his greeting, but Robert squeezes my hand reassuringly.
I move past Hunter, entering first, noticing the scent of lavender that always clung to the house, and Mom’s cookies. She’s been baking, which I should take to be a good sign, but I don’t. Her hospitality can be impeccable when her attitude is anything but.
“Go through to the kitchen,” Dad instructs, not introducing himself to the men who dwarf him as they pass. I’m so embarrassed and wish I could have avoided this day for the rest of my life.
In the kitchen, Mom is sitting at the table with her legs crossed and book in hand. She looks up as we enter and manages to achieve an impassive expression. I stand awkwardly as she peruses my men like she’s choosing steak at the butcher.
“This is Hunter, Robert, and Evan. This is my mom, Adeline, and my dad, Stuart.”
I wait for someone to reach out with a hand as a greeting, but no one does. The atmosphere is thick with unspoken disapproval, maybe even disgust. My skin crawls with discomfort. If the earth could swallow me whole, I’d welcome it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Hunter says stiffly.
Mom stands and approaches the counter. “Can I make you coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please,” Hunter replies. “For all of us.”
Mom busies herself, preparing coffee, and I urge my men to sit around the old pine table. The chairs seem tiny with them seated, and the table appears to have shrunk since I was last here. Dad hovers and I can tell he wants to say something by his reluctance to relax, but as usual, he seems to be waiting for Mom.
She places four mugs of coffee on the table, with a small yellow pot of sugar and a matching jug of cream. The cookies that rest in the center of a large plate are pushed a little too roughly into the middle of the table.
“These smell good,” I say, desperate to fill the silence.
“Thank you.”
She sits at one end of the table, facing Hunter. Dad sits next to her, facing Robert. I meet Evan’s eyes, and he widens his for a second, communicating the awkwardness he’s feeling, too. I want to scream.
As Hunter passes me the cream, Mom folds her arms over her chest. “If no one else is going to address the elephant in the room, I’ll have to.”
“Elephant?” Hunter lowers his mug slowly to the table, oozing calm control stretched tightly over coiled power and dominance.
“No elephants here,” Evan jokes in our minds. I stifle the urge to laugh as Hunter eyes him disapprovingly.
“What you’re doing is disgusting.” Mom’s mouth puckers like she’s sucked a lemon. Her patrician nose wrinkles, and I wait, the silence her comment has caused pulsing around me.
Disgusting. That’s quite a word to use, and even though I’m not surprised, it still feels like she slid a dagger between my ribs.
“Adeline,” Hunter says slowly and quietly, almost daring her to complain about his use of her first name. “We’re here for Goldie because it’s important to her.” He reaches out to rest his big hand protectively over my forearm. Mom’s eyes follow his action and stay fixed on the place we’re connected. “But I will not stand for any talk that she will find distressing.”
Dad shifts forward, raising his finger, but Mom reaches in front of him like she’s intending to save him from an accident.
“This is our house; if I have an opinion, I’ll make it known.”
Hunter picks up his mug and drinks his coffee slowly.
“Hunter,” I whisper into his mind.
“Don’t worry, mate,” he rumbles back. “I’ve got this.”
“Adeline,” he says again, the informality making my mom flinch. “Your daughter is a beautiful, intelligent, kind, and impressive woman. We’re grateful she has chosen to spend her life with us. The choice is hers to make, and it deserves respect. If you can’t give her that courtesy, then I don’t see any point in us staying.”