Catching Him (How to Catch an Alpha 1)

Heather is officially divorced from Marvin but isn’t sure she’ll be moving away from Montana anytime soon. The court ruled in her favor and granted her full custody of her daughter, but things between her and her ex have gotten better since her visit to see me, and she doesn’t want Kennedy to grow up only seeing her father occasionally. According to my mom, Marvin’s pulling out all the stops to win Heather back. Shockingly, my mom has been rooting for him to succeed. Maybe she feels guilty for the added stress she put on their marriage, or maybe she really thinks they have a shot at making things work. I just want my sister to be happy and can’t wait to see her when she flies in tonight.

I take a sip of coffee as I look around the backyard of the cabin I rented for the week and inhale sharply when I glimpse Leah below. The first time I saw her sprawled out on the floor of my guest bedroom, she took my breath away, and every time I’ve seen her since then, she’s had that same effect on me. Even today, dressed casually in tight jeans and high-heeled boots, she’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She’s waving her hands around as she talks to our moms. Tomorrow we’re getting married, and the backyard of the cabin has been transformed by our mothers, who have steamrollered Leah and planned our wedding. Leah didn’t want anything big, and while our moms acted like they agreed with her vision, I can now see from how the space is decorated that they didn’t.

There’s a podium set up underneath a large archway covered with fresh green pine, lights, and hundreds of gold, silver, and rose Christmas ball ornaments.

The chairs lining the aisle are decorated with the same green pine as well as white and gold ribbons and bows draped between each row. There are six—I know because I counted—Christmas trees decorated with the same color balls and lights as the arches lining the outside and the ends of the aisle, where a white mat will be rolled out for Leah to walk down to me after the sun sets. Off to the side there’s a white tent set up with chairs, tables, and heaters to keep the outside space warm in winter. Even I have to admit the backyard looks amazing, but apparently my soon-to-be wife does not agree, judging by her flailing hands and the look on her beautiful face.

When both our mothers plant their hands on their hips, I know it’s not gonna end well for my girl. I whistle, and the three women turn to look up at me. I only have eyes for one of them, and I crook my finger at her. I know she’s sighing, even though I can’t hear it, and her head shakes before she drops her eyes and leaves our moms outside.

I go inside as Leah stomps up the stairs, her high-heeled boots clipping hard against the wood, making her muttered words hard to distinguish.

“Really, Tyler, you call me up here when I’m attempting to talk sense into our mothers?” She angrily takes off her vest and tosses it to the couch. “Have you seen the backyard? There are Christmas trees outside! A lot of them!” She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me.

“I like it.” I shrug.

“You . . . you like it,” she sputters in disbelief.

“You don’t?” I question, moving closer to her.

“I thought we agreed on something small. There’s at least two hundred chairs out there on the lawn.” She waves to the window behind me.

“Baby.” I wrap my arms around her, and she burrows into my chest.

“I thought . . . I thought our wedding would be small. Just family.” She sounds exasperated.

“You should’ve known with our moms, it wouldn’t be small.”

“Why did I let them in on the planning?” She looks up at me.

“Because you didn’t want to plan it. How many times did you skip out on meeting with them over the last year?”

She frowns at the reminder. “I’ve been busy.”

She hasn’t really been busy, unless you consider spending time with me and our families busy. She’s had time to plan and make some arrangements, but if it were up to her, we would have gone to the courthouse and gotten married in front of the justice of the peace. “Baby.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Tyler Duncan, you . . .” She points at me. “Even you have to admit that this is all way too much.”

“I’m sorry, baby, but I don’t agree.”

Her head jerks back. “What?”

“I like the idea of our friends and our families watching us get married, watching you agree to be mine for the rest of our lives.”

“So you like it because you’re a caveman, over-the-top alpha male,” she mutters, studying my face.