Little Wolf

Mate

Michael

On the drive home, Michael rubs his chin as he ponders what to say to his son. It was surprising when Luke spoke up at the meeting, considering that Michael was sure that Luke never pays attention. He wonders if Luke was just saying that, or if he actually knows how much heartache he causes Michael every single day.

Ever since Michael’s mate Deanna was killed in battle, Luke has been a handful. As a teen, he rebelled. When he came of age, he covered himself in those ugly tattoos and grew his beard to look like a werewolf on television. Like as if their heritage is some kind of joke. He sleeps with a new woman every week, not even trying to find a mate.

Michael’s company is a multi billion dollar business, and running a pack is just as challenging. He can’t very well hand it over to a playboy who doesn’t take any of it seriously. He’ll piss it all away in no time. Sighing, Michael turns to look at Luke. He was such a good baby and later he was a sweet child. Michael would hold him when he was tiny, just staring at Luke for hours on end. His son. The day Luke was born was the proudest moment in Michael’s life.

“Pop, I’m sorry that I’m failing you”, Luke says softly. “You’re not failing me, Luke”, Michael sighs as he runs his hand along the back of his neck, “I just need you to take this seriously. Sam and I need to retire”. “I understand”, Luke says, nodding. “And who was the she-wolf in the restaurant? It occurred to me that you might be having s*x in the bathroom, that’s why I came to look for you. I saw you watching her”, Michael asks.

Luke is silent for a minute. “She’s my mate, Pop”, he says, finally. “WHAT?”, Michael roars, slamming on the brakes and veering wildly to the side of the road. Luke grabs the dashboard as the truck flails. “Why isn’t she with us at the packhouse? How long have you known?”, Michael yells.

“Pop, she doesn’t know she’s a werewolf”, Luke sighs, defeated. Michael thinks for a minute before it clicks. “So it isn’t Tyler who was asking, it was you? Why didn’t you come to me?” “You’re always angry with me. It’s like I can’t do anything right. I can’t screw this up with her, Pop. I just can’t, so I’m treading very carefully”, Luke answers softly. Michael’s heart shatters hearing Luke’s words. Am I really so terrible, that my son can’t even talk to his father?

Tears threaten to roll down Michael’s cheeks. “What’s she like?”, he asks. Luke breaks out in a huge grin. “She’s terrible at pool, and she likes tequila. She’s classy, well mannered and I love being around her. Her best friend is a human who is a ton of fun, too. The sensation that the mate bond is giving off made her think I spiked her drink”, Luke laughs, “And she smells like chocolate and coffee. She’s musical and knows all the words to all of the songs. When she sings along, it’s like the voice of an Angel. Her smile is… is… it’s intoxicating. She’s effortlessly gorgeous and the best part is that she has no idea”.

“My boy”, Michael whispers. He rolls down the window and shouts at the cars whizzing by, “My boy found his mate!” Michael can’t stop smiling as he claps his hand on Luke’s shoulder and shakes it. “Ha haaaaa! My boy found his mate!”, Michael shouts at Luke, who is smiling back at him. “Let’s go home, son”, he says before putting the truck in drive.

Michael grins ear to ear the entire ride home.

Paislee

Tuesday afternoon, Paislee visits the bank manager, armed with all of the paperwork from Charles. She spends ninety minutes signing all of the banking over into her name before heading to the bakery on the corner to meet up with Ivy for lunch. The bakery is owned by Ivy’s mother, Gretchen. She makes a mean croissant, and delicious coffee.

She can’t stop thinking about Luke. She cringes thinking about how she accused him of stalking her in an office building that he owns. And yet he still wants to take me on a date. Maybe he’s crazy.

Opening the door to the bakery, Paislee is hit with the scent of freshly baked bread, cinnamon and vanilla. To her left is a wall of fridges with beautiful cakes and cupcakes in all flavours, shapes and sizes. The service counter is tall and made of glass, filled with everything under the sun; donuts, croissants, bagels, muffins, rolls, and all kinds of breads from rye to banana bread with chocolate chips. There are twelve metal tables scattered around the room, most of them full with people.

“Paislee! Oh my God, darling! I’ve missed you!”, Gretchen calls from behind the counter. Her platinum blonde hair is tied into two ponytails at the base of her neck, and she’s wearing a black conductor hat and a matching apron that’s nearly white with the flour that’s all over it. Her blue eyes are sparkling as she races out from behind the counter to hug Paislee. “Welcome home, sweetheart”, Gretchen smiles, cupping Paislee’s chin. “Thank you, Mrs. Harrison. I’ve missed you too”, Paislee smiles as Gretchen scoots them to a table to sit. “Lana! Can we get three lattes please?”, she calls over her shoulder.

The bell dings at the door to announce a customer. It’s Ivy, bouncing into the bakery with a skip in her step. The women sit and visit for over an hour. They nibble on croissants with chocolate drizzle and a light hazelnut chocolate filling, and a bowl of mixed fruit on the side.

“Well mom, we’d better get going. Someone has a date to get ready for!”, Ivy winks. “Oh how exciting!”, Gretchen whispers conspiratorially with a gleam in her eye, “What’s this guy like?”. “Mom, he’s huge. He’s built like a brick shithouse and he’s covered in tattoos. He looks like Wolverine”, Ivy giggles. Paislee rolls her eyes, “Yes, all of that’s true. I also found out yesterday that he’s a LeBlanc. Of LeBlanc Hotels”, she adds. Gretchen gasps, and Ivy squeals, “Seriously!?”. Paislee chuckles and nods sheepishly.

“Oh honey, they’re a very respected family in the upper crust”, Gretchen swoons, “Michael LeBlanc is a shrewd businessman, and yet very philanthropic. The hotel hosts the Christmas banquet every year for Kyle’s team”.

The women say their goodbyes, before Ivy and Paislee agree to meet back up at Paislee’s house. They live on a private lake, Ivy’s house is across the water. By boat, you could be door to door in fifteen minutes.

Parking the Jaguar, Paislee fiddles with the key for the front door. She drops her keys, and they land on the welcome mat right next to a courier envelope. Picking up the envelope, it’s addressed to her from the law office of a Mr. Lowell. No return address, just a telephone number. Odd. Their family lawyer is Charles.

Carrying it inside, Paislee drops the mail and her purse on the hall table to the sound of Ivy’s little sports car roaring up the driveway. Paislee steps out onto the porch to greet Ivy before they go back inside, chatting animatedly.

“What’s this?”, Ivy asks as she picks up the parcel. Paislee shrugs, “I’m not sure. I’ll look at it later, I’m sick of estate stuff right now. It’s all I’ve done for three days”. Ivy frowns but drops the parcel on the table. “Let’s have mimosas while we dress you up!”, she grins. “He won’t be here for four and a half more hours! I’ll be hammered!”, Paislee exclaims, laughing.

At six o’clock, the girls start to get Paislee ready. Ivy mixes up mimosas while Paislee applies her makeup in the bathroom. Going for a bolder look this time, she creates a smoky eye effect and finishes off with cherry red lipstick.

They decide on a black flowy top with a deep ‘V’ in the front, tucked into dark blue leather pants and black strappy heels. Sweeping the front and sides of her hair up into a lift at the top, Ivy helps to secure it with bobby pins before scooping the rest of Paislee’s hair into a pony at the crown. She finishes her look with dangling pearl earrings and a rose gold necklace with a single pearl.

“Girrrrrrl, he’s gonna have a hard time keeping his hands off of you!”, Ivy warns. Paislee is nervous, and she smiles back at Ivy weakly before gulping down her mimosa. “Thank you, Ivy. You’ve been the best friend a girl could ask for”, Paislee says sombrely. “Obviously”, Ivy says sarcastically and rolls her eyes. As the two break out in laughter, the doorbell rings.

“Coming!”, Ivy shouts, breaking into a run and nearly face planting down the stairs. Paislee is at the top of the stairs when Ivy yanks the door open, breathless.

The large door swinging open wafts the smell of his ever present Christmas cologne up to Paislee, and she closes her eyes as she breathes him in. From where she’s standing, she can only see his feet. “Hi again, Ivy. Nice to see you”, his velvety smooth voice caresses her very soul. “Hey Luke, Paislee will be right down. Would you like to come in?”, Ivy asks before stepping aside.

His huge frame crosses the doorway in two strides, and Paislee’s breath catches as she takes him in. The sexiest man to walk this earth is in her foyer. For me. He’s dressed in a black fitted button down shirt and black jeans with black dress shoes. His shirt clings to his muscles, rippling with his every move. His chocolate eyes flicker to her and his luscious lips slowly creep into a smile. In his hand is a dozen long stemmed roses.

“Hi”, she breathes, clutching the railing at the top of the stairs. She’s not convinced that she can make it down them without falling, her knees are too weak. “Hi”, he murmurs, “You look breathtaking, Paislee”. The sound of her name coming from this Adonis before her makes her heart jump into her throat.

“Well are you coming down?”, Ivy asks impatiently, tapping her foot which snaps Paislee back out of the spell she was under. Rolling her eyes, she slowly makes her way down the stairs to Luke’s waiting hand. She takes his hand, and volts of electricity surge through her as he leans in to kiss her cheek before he hands her the bouquet. “These are beautiful, thank you”, she coos.

“I’ll go put these in water! Have fun you two!”, Ivy chirps before pushing them out the door.