Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Where’s home to you, Harley?” he asked quietly.
Honestly, she didn’t feel that she really had one. But she didn’t say it aloud . . . because she could sense that she didn’t have to; he already knew it.
Jesse covered the distance between them. “Home isn’t always a place, sweetheart. Home is something that anchors you, comforts you, and is a safe haven for you.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Let me be that for you, Harley.”
If he made her cry she was so gonna hit him.
“We both want this. We’ve both wanted it for a long time. Really, it was inevitable. I’ll tell you how it’s going to work: I’ll claim you, you’ll claim me, you’ll come to trust the pack, you’ll settle here, we’ll imprint, and we’ll be fucking happy.”
Harley could only stare at him. “You’ve got things all planned out, huh?”
“I’ve had this planned for a long time. The moment you stepped into California, you sealed your fate. There was no way you were leaving. I’d decided to give you another week at most to come to me; if you didn’t, I would have gone to you.” But if Cassidy hadn’t had that vision, he’d have been too late to claim Harley; she’d have been dead. Just the thought made his throat burn.
“I thought you only came because of the car bomb,” she mumbled, surprised.
“Think about it, baby, why else would I have fucking peppermint tea bags? The cupboards are stocked with foods you like. I wanted you to have what you like and need. Jesus, I picked this fucking lodge out of all the others because of that damn tree out there—because I knew you’d love it and I knew one day I’d bring you here. When a team came out to restore and modernize all the lodges three years ago, I had them build that reading alcove for you.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she breathed.
“Deadly.” He cupped her throat. “I’ve wanted you since I was fourteen and too young and messed up to do much about it. You had that permanent frown, black lipstick, skull earrings, and dark clothes. You acted like you didn’t give a fuck about anything, but I knew that was bullshit. You gave a fuck about Mia and tried to help her. You gave a fuck about your mother and tried to get her sober. You gave a fuck that your pride was a joke and you felt helpless that you couldn’t change that.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “You were so strong and you didn’t seem to see it, just like you didn’t see that I wanted you. And you wanted me, didn’t you?”
“Maybe. I can’t remember.”
He smiled at the dry response. “I want you more now than I did back then, and I won’t be satisfied until I have every part of you.” He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Every. Part.”
Yeah, but what if she gave him every part and he couldn’t give the same in return? She tried to keep her tone sensitive as she spoke. “I know this is a hard subject for you, but I’m going to bring it up because this needs to be said. I’m sorry that you lost your mate. I can’t even begin to understand how soul wrecking that must have been for you, even though you were only kids and hadn’t bonded. While I understand and sympathize—”
“You refuse to be second best,” he finished.
She blinked. “Well, I wouldn’t have worded it that coldly.”
“It’s not cold. It’s fair. Just the same, I have no intention of being second best for you.”
“It’s a little different with me. I never met my mate. You did. You spent a lot of years with her. You made plans with her, envisioned a life with her, and no doubt had deep feelings for her. I don’t want to be a substitute. It sounds bitchy and selfish, and I hate that. But I know myself, Jesse. I know that I would grow to resent being a stand-in—that resentment would twist me inside, and then I’d make us both miserable.”
Maybe she’d have a point if she and Torrie were anything alike, but they weren’t. “You’re not selfish. Bitchy, yeah, but I kind of like that.” So did his wolf. “There’s something you’re not considering. Her death changed me; I’m not the person I would have been if she’d lived. And the person I am now . . . I wouldn’t have suited her. I would have hurt her.”
“What do you mean?”
He clamped his hands around Harley’s hips. “She didn’t have the type of personality that could withstand the person I am today. Not because she was a submissive wolf.” Although submissives were physically weaker than dominants, they could be mentally stronger and braver—his Alpha female was a perfect example of that. But Torrie had been nothing like Shaya, who pushed back when her mate became too forceful. “Torrie was very passive and hated confrontation so much that she always backed down. She could never have dealt with this version of me.”