Alpha's Moon (Shifter Ops 1)
“You look beautiful,” he whispers, a minute before we start.
“I know,” I say. “Deke told me.” I actually haven’t seen Deke yet, but I look for his dark head and broad shoulders, rising taller than anyone else in the seats. And when I find him, he’s looking straight back at me. I smile and wave and am rewarded with a subtle nod. Not an overflow of emotion but plenty encouraging in Deke-speak. You got this, baby.
As I walk down the aisle, I hold Deke’s gaze as long as I can. I hardly notice Scott’s frustration, even though it radiates from him. I started out needing Deke as a shield from Scott’s pressure, but now it just bounces off me. I could care less what the man beside me wants. I’m way more interested in what I want, and that’s Deke.
As Jenn and Geoff say their vows, I seek out Deke again. He said he’d never get married. I wonder why. We’ve grown closer this weekend, but not so close that his secrets aren’t a chasm between us. A chasm I intend to cross.
“Great job, baby,” Deke tells me after the ceremony. He tugs at the flimsy strap holding up my bodice. “You wearing shapewear under this?”
Laughter rockets out of me, and I cover my mouth to stifle it. “Nope,” I whisper back. “I learned my lesson.” He moves closer, his lips finding my ear, and I duck my head. “Not yet,” I warn. “I have to do pictures with the bridal party. Then the reception.”
“Fuck the reception,” Deke murmurs, and my pussy clenches.
“I would love to screw instead of going to the reception,” I murmur, watching his eyes heat, “but we have to stay until they cut the cake. And a few dances.”
“Okay.” He removes his hand and smoothes the front of his tux. In his bowtie and cumberbund, he looks like a sexier and more dangerous James Bond. “But it’ll cost ya.”
“I can’t wait until you collect,” I murmur back and obey Brigit’s summons to do pictures with the bride and groom. I can’t help glancing over at him the whole time, and he seems to always be watching me. His eyes flash oddly in the low light.
Later, after the meal and the speeches, Deke and I dance cheek to cheek to Frank Sinatra. Well, not cheek to cheek—he’s too tall. But I lay my head on his chest, and it’s perfect.
“Thank you for coming with me this weekend.” I lift my head to meet his warm gaze.
His eyes crinkle, but he doesn’t quite smile. His smiles are rare, which makes it all the more exciting when I win one.
“I know this isn’t your scene at all. This was a huge favor to ask…” I guess I’m fishing. I feel like last night proved we’ve gone way beyond the fake date thing, but I’m honestly still not sure where we stand. The fact that he doesn’t want to marry and have kids should’ve made me stop hoping for something more, but it hasn’t. I’ve already fallen for this guy.
I want it all.
We dance past the gift table, piled high with everything a couple could want to start married life, including an entire set of Le Creuset cookware.
“Sadie.” Deke looks uncomfortable.
Oh God, he’s going to let me down gently now.
“I can’t be in a relationship. I’m… dangerous.”
I blink up at him. Finally, we’re getting things into the open. “Is this about the, um assault charges?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?” My heart’s pounding, but I want to know everything, whatever it is.
“I get… protective. Over-protective. I was at a bar, and a woman seemed like she was getting hassled. I stepped in. But I sort of lost control. My wo—” He stops and gives his head a quick shake. “I used excessive force. I didn’t mean to, but I hurt the guys more than was necessary.”
“You don’t know your own strength,” I murmur.
“No,” he cuts me off sharply. “I do. Which is why that never should’ve happened. I should’ve kept control. Especially with civilians.”
I swallow. “It’s part of the PTSD, Deke. You’ve had to kill in the line of duty, right?”
He draws in a sharp breath then lets it out slowly. “Yeah. I… sometimes still do.” His gaze locks on my face, like he’s watching for signs that I’m horrified.
I am a little, but I’m careful to school my features. I should have guessed at this when he mentioned the multi-million dollar government contracts. No wonder they’re not allowed to date. They’re like… government hitmen. Or something.
I try on that idea to see if it makes me want to run screaming from Deke.
It doesn’t.
I lift my chin. “I don’t care,” I tell him.
He cocks his head. “You… you don’t? I mean, you should. Sadie, I’m not safe.”
I stop dancing and reach up, holding his face in both my hands. “You’re safe for me,” I tell him.