Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Alpha’s Pregnant Bride Chapter 10

Skye

"Seek both," I scoffed while gathering a couple of folders from the office in the barn. "That's a joke. It must be a joke."

Over my head hung the most recent worker pairings. Jada had guided me in making sure most were productive and as non-combative as possible. A window sat in the middle of the wall, looking out at the cornfield where tall stalks rustled where workers were moving up and down the rows. With a simple desk and a bookshelf with all sorts of business practices and the like, I was set up for success.

Even with my homework piling onto my field work, I bounced from the desk to the door, cheerfully humming a tune and pausing to imbibe a patch of sun cutting across the barn floor. I skipped to the right to make sure the coffee maker was working properly and then checked the fridge for water bottles. Everything was stocked with enough for everyone.

Humming took me to the back to check the equipment. My mind drifted between Emmett, Troy, Oscar, and Blake. Voices rang through my thoughts randomly, one of them Jada and the rest a blur of recollections from meetings. Judgment had the audacity to trot into my good mood. Well, that wasn't a surprise considering everything I was feeling.

Which was odd. I felt good regardless of the pressure.

Seek both, my brother had recommended. It's never a bad idea to have a backup plan.

What a concept. Why the hell would I want to court both Oscar and Troy? Blake wouldn't have frowned on it entirely, but it would have certainly offended his recommendation. He had announced my pairing with Troy in front of both packs. How embarrassing would it be for me to leave Troy for somebody like Oscar?

Idly, I rubbed the spot where Troy had bitten me. At my request. While we banged in the back of his car in a parking lot.

I'd never had such hot sex in my life. Someone like Oscar would have never gotten into it like that. Troy gave me exactly what I wanted, and even more than that. He had marked me.Leaving him would shame us both.

What the heck is Emmett thinking? I know he saw the mark, I thought.

I understood what my brother meant. He was concerned about me getting abandoned. But from what I could tell over the past three weeks, Troy had absolutely no desire to leave me high and dry. Every night was spent in something like marital bliss. We didn't argue, we rarely ran into issues, and his command of his emotions was both beautiful and inspiring. He traced the mark every chance he got even if he didn't mention it.

If I could be calmer like Troy, even by a tiny bit, then maybe I could handle being a field manager and a student at the same time.

Blake seemed to think so. And if he thought so, then I should be confident, right?

I shook my head while checking the equipment not in use. Everything had been inspected last week, but I liked being sure with a few daily checks. Once that was done, I carried my folders to an isolated office in the back to get some homework completed. Class was running me ragged with these pop quizzes and essays.

Oscar was bugging me too. His insistence had gotten only slightly worse since Troy had chased him off. I'd hoped that encounter would be enough, but it seemed to only make Oscar work ever the harder to win my attention. He had managed to convince the teacher to switch lab partners so I would be next to him, and he followed me to the parking lot every night. While he argued that he was watching out for me, I felt the strangest edge of possessiveness in his tone.

If he thought he could win me over by stalking me, then he was in desperate need of a reality check.

Emmett needed one too. Maybe a nice knock to the skull would fix that. He was getting on my nerves with his suggestions, even joking at one point about how there might be another war in the future. None of us knew what could possibly happen. Perhaps the Bravecrest alpha had debts to other packs that would later be collected. Having an extra "mate" around would set me up for a smooth transition into a new life.

According to my brother, of course, this was the way. It was gross and selfish. It made me feel like he didn't believe in me as a person.

Some of my bubbly mood dipped. I stopped humming as I opened the first folder-algebra-and stared at the number sheets that stared right back at me. How was I supposed to concentrate on formulas when I had a field of workers asking me questions every ten minutes? I just knew someone would come knocking soon enough. Diving in now would save me a headache later.

That was the idea, anyway.

Because staring at the formula sheet wasn't exactly getting me anywhere.

"Seek both," I repeated for the millionth time in the same hour. "I can't believe Emmett said that to me."

Doubt was a sneaky beast that wanted nothing more than to break my concentration entirely. What if Emmett was right about another war being right around the corner? We'd been through two already in my lifetime-which was more than plenty. But part of me wondered if these things would never end.

Gosh, was Troy going to stick me in a bunker too? He didn't seem like the type, but that wasn't exactly a thing people talked about right when they started dating. Flaws weren't even evident until the third month of a relationship. We were only in the fourth week, technically.

A whole dang month of knowing each other up close and personal. Was it worth it yet? What would make it worth it?

If the gods could be more merciful about my doubts, that would be just great. Because my brother whispering into my ear every five seconds about this disaster or that mistake wasn't doing me any favors. Now I couldn't focus and all I wanted to do was sprint home so I could jump on top of Troy.

Nothing quite fixed my doubt like asking him to slam between my legs. Heat swarmed my cheeks as I set my pen down and dropped my head into my hands. Focus was leaving faster than I could catch it. If I tried too hard to think now, I'd probably make mistakes all over the worksheet.

What was the point of even continuing my studies if I had all this other stuff on my plate?

One of the floorboards behind me creaked. I arched back and tilted my right ear in the direction of the door while sniffing the air.

Woody tobacco-now who could that be?

"You're stressing so loud that I can hear you across the field," he said. "My dear, if you insist on worrying yourself into a fit, you should just text me."

I raised my eyebrows. "And why would I do that?"

"So I can help."

He was too good at that. Ever since I'd moved in, he read me like a book. Whenever my mood shifted, he could sense it-and he acted on it too. He offered hand massages, shoulder massages, head scratches. A lot of times I felt like a glorified house pet. But often, it was just nice that someone noticed me, my changes, my needs.

Most of the time, I didn't need to say a word.

Not even Oscar could have boasted about something like that.

I tilted my head back, catching a fully inverted view of Troy that made me grin. He was still as handsome upside down as he was the other way. His smile was easy, and his stance was as relaxed and inviting as ever. He oozed confidence and serenity. Somehow, he made it look hot too.

"You know," he started as he leaned against the doorframe, "you could always take your work home and manage the field from there."

A snicker escaped me. "So people can bother me in the peace and safety of my home? No, thanks."

"It's a thought. An offer if you will."

"An offer for what specifically?"

His eyes narrowed, though it hardly felt critical, and I got the sense that he was about to start teasing me. "An offer for you to be more comfortable at work."

That touched my heart in ways that Lifetime movies couldn't. I wasn't sure anyone wanted to make my life easier aside from Jada and Laurencia. And the only reason those two wanted to do that was because they were my friends. Good friends made life easier, didn't they?

I had to guess that good mates did the same thing.

My mind rushed to correct me, But he's not my mate.

He chuckled. Had he heard my thoughts? Or was he just admiring the view down my tank top? It was a rare occasion for me to wear anything other than a t-shirt to work, but the day was hot, and the way I had been sweating lately made me prefer blank tank tops to white t-shirts. It was easier to hide the pit stains that way.

And it was easier to see my tits.

"Come home for a break if you're worried about missing your workers," he suggested. "That way I can rub your feet."

I sighed while sitting upright. He just wanted to get me back into his bed.

Not that I was complaining. "I have a lot of homework to do."

"Your shoulders, then." His voice sounded closer. I felt his hands on my shoulders, as light as usual, massaging away my stress within seconds. "We don't have to go anywhere."

"That's the nice thing about you. I don't have to do anything to get your attention."

His frown was obvious in his tone. "Why would I require anything of you to grant you attention?"

"I don't know."

"You sound like you have doubts. Tell me about them."

Nobody took my insecurities in stride like Troy. Even my brother always had something to say about my doubts or fears. People were so quick to dump fear out the window instead of just listening. But Troy wanted to listen. He sat with me like my friends would. "Oscar, for example," I began, "was so big about public affection. He wanted everyone to know that I was with him."

"Young wolves tend to be demanding and brash."

I chuckled. "That's one way to put it. If I didn't give him at least three kisses in public a day, he made it a big deal later on."

"That sounds exhausting."

"Seriously, he was so insecure. It turned me off from wolves for a while."

His fingers dug into my shoulder blades, sending my eyes to the back of my head. "I don't mean to knock him for his age. What I mean to say is that I used to be young myself."

"Really? I would have never guessed."

He laughed and wiggled my shoulders lightly. "You're a card."

"I do my best."

"I sense that you're doubtful of my intentions. Is that correct?"

Several more sighs rolled up into the one I released. "How can you tell?"

"You stiffen when I offer you physical comfort. It's quite subtle, almost unreadable for humans, I imagine. But to me, I can sense your hesitation with your embrace."

Well, that wasn't exactly a treat to hear. It probably made him feel bad. As my mood soured as badly as a lemon sat out in the summer sun, his hands moved to the sides of my neck and brushed just beneath my ears. My eyes rolled again. How the hell did he find muscles that I didn't even know existed?

"Sorry," I managed to whisper. "I don't mean to do it."

"Do not ever apologize to me for your damages."

I lifted my head, partially breaking out of my relaxed state. "What?"

He swiveled me around in the desk chair, the hinges creaking with the motion and sounding so loud in the miniature office. He knelt in front of me, took my hands, and held my gaze, peering into my soul rather than my eyes.

He offered a gentle grin. "Every one of us comes with baggage. We try to shove it into an attic and lock it out of sight for fear that the people around us will be disgusted-or maybe they'll leave us if they catch a glimpse of what's in those bags."

I pinched my lips shut. I didn't understand why he was being so kind about this.

"That's why it's called baggage. Because it's in bags, dear Skye. Some of us have three while others have about twenty. Regardless of the amount, your apology isn't necessary. Your baggage is no burden to me."

Tears bristled in my eyes. I tried not to cry with all my might. I tried to hold back the knots forming in my throat. But they persisted no matter what I did.

He cupped my cheek. "Whatever bags you open will be free from the clutches of your mind. Show me your bags. I can hold them. I promise I won't turn you away for your fears. Isn't that what would worsen your fears?"

A slight nod from me deepened his smile.

"Keep the bags open. I have space for them, dear Skye."

Niagara Falls didn't have anything on the waterfalls streaming down my face. It was absurd the way he stung me and comforted me at the same time. I hated it.

And yet I liked it too.

I grabbed him and buried my face in his shoulder. My stomach flipped as hiccups turned to heart-racking sobs. I let out everything that I was hiding-the pain of being forced into this situation, and the strange anticipation of it ending too quickly. The confliction of my emotions crested and then crashed, breaking me down into a puddle right in his arms.

He held me through the whole thing. At some point, I thought I heard voices, but I must have imagined them for Troy didn't move an inch throughout the flood of tears. He scooped me up, cradled me, and carried me out into the equipment area where he set me on my feet. Once I felt like I could stand on my own, I did.

"Wait here," he commanded gently. "I'm grabbing your folders and taking you home."

"But, Troy-"

He shushed me. "You need a day off. You've been going too hard."

No arguments from me. If it meant I got to go home, then I would go home. The field workers would be fine with the posted announcements. Any questions could be sent to voicemail.

Troy returned with my homework and led me to my main office where he organized someone to take the lead for the day. After that was handled, we wandered into the midday sun together, hands clasped and smiles bright. My cheeks hurt from crying, and I knew my nose was all puffy and red, but I didn't care. Nobody had ever done anything like this for me. It was nice.

He was just too nice.

Another round of stomach flipping made me double over. I paused on the path, hoping I wasn't about to lose my lunch over a crying fit. Before I knew it, I had run off to a bush and was upchucking my sub along with the cookies I had gobbled up for breakfast. My sweet tooth didn't usually get ahead of me like this, but it had been ridiculous lately, making me crave things like ice cream and cookie dough. One of those wasn't even safe to eat.

One hand rested on my shoulder. One hand caressed my lower back. Troy stood with me until I was done and offered to wipe my mouth with a napkin from his pocket. "Something, something, dad joke," I grumbled.

He looped his arm around my waist and hoisted me up. How he managed to carry my things and me at the same time was simply beyond my comprehension. He got me home in record time and propped me up on the couch, urging me to stay put. "But I have to-"

He tapped my lips. "Dear Skye, you have nothing pressing. Please, rest. You look ill." "I'm not feverish."

He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. "No, but I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Can I brush my teeth? Please? My mouth tastes gross."

He gave me a look that challenged my intentions-but ultimately, he stepped back and allowed me to pass. I wandered to the bathroom, locked myself inside, and splashed my face with water. As the cool liquid dripped down my face, my phone chimed with a calendar reminder.

What sat on the screen made me freeze up. Even the water that slicked my cheek turned to an icicle. Troy couldn't have possibly distracted me so badly that I missed something as important as my period. Was it just late? Or was it something else? I braced myself against the counter. No, it had to be late from stress. The homework, the field managing, the match bonding with Troy-those things were all stealing my attention. That was the only sound reason.

It had to be the only reason. Because I couldn't consider the alternative.