Chapter Thirty-One
Jay
This morning started with a rude awakening.
Fabric covers my eyes suddenly, and I wake in a panic. “What the—”
“Get up. It’s time to get ready,” Caleb says sternly.
My hands frantically remove the dress he just tossed on my face.
I guess he’s back to being cold again. I need a thermometer to gauge what version of him I’m going to get.
“Ready for what?” I look at the time. “It’s eight in the morning on a Sunday. What could possibly be so important?”
“Church.”
“Church? You’ve never brought me before.”
“Well, I wasn’t being forced to integrate you into pack life before now, was I?”
He nods at the dress. “Come on, get dressed. Jemma is expecting us, and I don’t want to be late. She does not take kindly to tardiness, and you do not want to get on her bad side—trust me.”
I hold out the dress to get a better look at it. It’s a flowery, multi-colored sundress with butterfly sleeves and a conservative V-neck.
I quickly shower, and when I return, Caleb is a sight anyone would drool over. He’s wearing khaki-colored trousers hanging off his hips. Shirtless, his chiseled abs are on full display. Seeing that he is almost dressed, I hurry to get ready. “So, who is Jemma?”
“Jemma is a respected member of this pack. And starting next month, her home is likely to be where you’ll be staying for the duration of your probationary period.”
When Caleb said I’d be sleeping with him, I knew it was temporary. Still, I hoped it might work out well enough to stay. Now I’ve grown comfortable here.
You mean, you like being with Caleb, my wolf clarifies.
That part.
But all good things must come to an end.
“What’s she like?”
“Bossy but respected. She’s everybody’s, and nobody’s mom. She’s your elder to respect . . . Matter of fact,” He pauses and points a finger at me. “Don’t tell her I called her an elder.” He resumes steaming his pastel blue button down. “She’d kick my ass.”
I giggle. “I like this Jemma already.”
I go to put on the same shoes Taya let me borrow. Simple flip flops to help me get around, when Caleb says, “No, no, no. You can’t wear those.”
“I don’t have anything else.”
He fishes a box out of his closet and hands it to me. “I had one of the maids pick you up something.”
I lift the lid to find nude heels wrapped in tissue paper. I pull them out, and they fit perfectly. “How did they know my size?”
“You think I’d have you sleep next to me and not know everything about you? I know every curve. Every freckle. Every strand of hair. You couldn’t hide from me even if you wanted to.”
I shush my wolf before she can say it.
Why would we want to hide?
Dressed and ready, we stroll to Jemma’s home. On the way, I notice we’ve passed the church.
“I thought we were going to church?”
“We are.”
“But the church is back there.”
“I know. We’re going to meet Jemma and then walk over together.”
“I don’t mean to be rude when I ask this, but wouldn’t it just make more sense if she met us there?”
“It would to a rogue, but that’s not pack behavior. Jemma lives alone. I don’t want her to walk by herself.”
Why does it warm my heart to think Caleb would go out of his way to keep an older woman from going to church alone?
“I didn’t know you were such a gentleman.”
“I have my moments.”
But something is telling me that he has more than just moments. Hard as it is to picture after how we met, I could see it. So long as the person isn’t his father’s killer, I’m sure he’s a sweetheart.
I slow when I notice the remaining damage to the pack’s village and from the stories my herd has told, the rogues are responsible. Cabins are destroyed some mid-renovations but others that have not yet tended to look abandoned.
A banging hammer banging a nail catches my attention.
A man on the roof wipes his forehead with his forearm.
A woman hands him a box of nails, then is quickly distracted by a little pup who appears, carrying chopped wood.
The woman notices he’s about to drop his bundle and assists him.
He drops it anyway and cries. The female comforts him, saying it’s okay, and that he’s doing such a good job helping. Soon, they’ll be back in their home.
Guilt twists in my stomach.
My herd did that to them.
After passing a few more cabins, we arrive at Jemma’s. Expecting us, she was in her rocking chair on the porch, waiting. From far away, she waves, and Caleb waves back.
“Does she know I’m a rogue?”
“Yes.”
In that case, she’s probably going to judge me.
I tuck my hair behind my ear and pull at the bottom of my dress, making sure it doesn’t seem too short. Jemma has probably decided she isn’t going to like me, but I can still try to make a good impression.
Caleb steps onto her front porch while I wait at the bottom, unsure if I’m allowed up. I don’t want to overstep.
Jemma grunts as she stands to embrace Caleb. Still in his arms, she leans her head back to get a better look at him. “Did you get taller?”
“I think you’re just getting shorter.” Caleb laughs at his own quip.
“Oh, you.” Jemma lightly swats his stomach with the back of her hand. She waves her finger at him. “You just wait until you’re my age.” Jemma’s hands rest her hips, and she pivots toward me. “And you must be Jay.”
No disgust shows on her face when she says my name, so I take it as a good sign and smile back. “Hi, yes. You must be Jemma.”
“Well.” Jemma grabs the railing to ease herself down the steps.
Caleb goes to help her by grabbing her arm, but Jemma swats her hand at him again. “I’m old, but I’m not that old, sweetheart.”
Caleb lifts his arms in surrender, palms out and shoots me a yikes face. Though humor lingers behind it at Jemma’s outburst.
I try my best not to giggle.
Jemma says, “Hope you’re a hugger.” Then she pulls me into an embrace.
“Oh!”
It’s unexpected, but it might be the best hug . . . maybe the only hug . . . I’ve ever received from someone who wasn’t a rogue. It’s certainly the first from a pack wolf. She smells of expensive perfume. The sweet, flowery scent wafts through my nose.
Jemma withdraws to check me out the same as she did Caleb. “My goddess, you’re gorgeous.”
Another first. I’ve been called many things but never gorgeous. She peers back at Caleb. “Caleb, isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Yes.”
My inner critic tells me Caleb is just trying to not appear like an asshole in front of Jemma, which is why he’s so agreeable. But the delusional part of me thinks he could mean it. I choose delusion.
Caleb’s gaze lingers on me before he shakes his head and clears his throat. “Uh . . . We better be going if we don’t want to be late.”
“We’ll talk on the way there.” Jemma pats my arm.
On the walk to the church, I learn a lot about Jemma.
She’s the kind, old neighbor who listens to the birds chirp while drinking her morning coffee on her front porch.
She lives a simple life cooking, baking and tending to her garden.
Yet she’s active enough but still grunts when she stands up from squatting or sitting too long.
Overall, I was right. She is far from hateable.
Of course Jemma and Caleb know everyone . . . and I can’t remember a single name. To my surprise, almost everyone is kind and welcoming. Some are good at faking it, but I can be civil.
The church is small, old, white and nothing impressive from the outside.
But on the inside, it’s spacious with high ceilings and stained-glass windows.
A beautiful warm interior with exposed wood finished, sanded and smoothed to perfection.
The pews were lined perfectly on either side of the aisle with a deep red carpet.
We sit together in the front pew.
The pastor is dressed in a white cloth that drapes over his shoulders. On the cloth, different phases of the moon are embroidered near his chest. I didn’t really listen to the lesson. I was too busy trying to soak in my surroundings.
You were staring at Caleb, my wolf says.
Maybe.
I could practically feel the daggers some pack members were sending my way for sitting near Caleb. They’re probably all wondering why a rogue is sitting next to their handsome—and single—future alpha.
Don’t worry ladies, I’m just his plaything—a casual hookup to service his needs until he finds someone else. But the diminishing thought bothers me more than I care to admit.
Honestly, church was pretty boring. I can see why someone would carve a dick on the back of this pew.
After church, Jemma, Caleb, and I stand outside chatting about the service.
“What’d you think, Jay?”
Jemma’s question catches me off guard. I wasn’t expecting a pop quiz, or to summarize what I learned. Which is nothing.
“Hm?”
“Of the sermon.”
I open my mouth and quickly close it, causing my jaw to click. I look to Caleb to save me.
Arms crossed, he wears a cheeky, knowing grin. He caught me staring, clearly distracted, but only smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, Jay. What’d you learn?”
Oh, he’ll pay for that.
“You know . . .” I grasp to think of some bullshit. “I think I was so overwhelmed with how beautiful the church is, it was hard to focus.”
“Oh, I can understand that,” Jemma said, accepting my white lie. “My first time here, the space took my breath away.”
The pastor appears amongst the church patrons, chatting with others.
He’s pretty attractive, definitely not what I was expecting.
He looks to be in his late thirties, graying in all the right places.
A total silver fox with white teeth and a chiseled jaw.
It makes me wonder if he has something to do with all the pews being full . . .
I take the opportunity for payback. “And you know what else makes it hard to focus? That attractive pastor of yours.”
Out of my peripheral, Caleb uncrosses his arms, and his knuckles turn white at his sides. He frowns and a gold hue swirls in his irises.
Is he jealous? Or does he just not like me talking about a pastor in such a way? Am I embarrassing him?