Page 3 of A Beta Protects

“Kira will be late, as usual, but the macaroni salad she brings will more than make up for it,” Aaron says with his head under the hood of his Ford Mustang.

I nod, not particularly interested in meeting anyone’s little sister.

I’m standing at the front of Aaron’s garage, while he works on his car as we wait for his sister to arrive for the impromptu BBQ he decided to have this late Saturday afternoon.

As I lift my Bud to my lips, a dark green sedan makes its way up the road. Peonies. Not the artificial kind that comes from a bottle. This isn’t perfume. This is real. Fresh. Sweet, lush and so potent, it has my wolf sitting up, seeking more of that tantalizing scent.

It gets stronger.

I forget about my beer, forget Aaron is talking to me. I can’t function until I know exactly where that scent is coming from. It sinks into me, makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

The dark green sedan.

My eyes narrow on it as the driver flings open the car door. A man steps out. He’s in light green khaki. A sheriff’s uniform. No hat, just the uniform. He’s blond, blue eyed, with the looks that women go crazy over.

My attention moves on, my wolf disappointed.

Then the passenger side door swings open and all my wolf wants to do is wallow in the delicious scent flooding my senses.

A woman’s wavy, strawberry-blonde hair pops up, and as she rounds the car, she’s cradling a glass bowl of macaroni salad against her belly.

Her legs stretch out forever in a long, dark blue denim skirt, and a white blouse with tiny pink flowers cradle small but perfectly formed breasts. Freckles cover every patch of creamy, fair skin, and I want to kiss every single one of them, starting with the one beside her mouth. Her figure is lush, her hips curved, and her eyes are the most incredible dark blue I’ve ever seen.

A heart-stopping smile stretches her pink rosebud lips when she makes eye contact with me. The scent of her is like coming home. She’s human, but she’s something else. Something impossible.

A bond clicks into place.

Mate.

“This is my little sister, Kira.” Aaron steps up beside me, as the blond man slips his arm around her waist. “And her husband, Bryce.”

Her husband.

When she grips the bowl tighter with her right arm and offers me her left, I spot the gold wedding band I missed before. “Hi, Dom.”

My mate.

A lifetime of wishing and hoping to find her. But I don’t just meet her, I meet her husband.

Nearly 10 at night, backlit by harsh lights from her car, and face lined with exhaustion, Kira is still the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my life.

“Kira.” I nod, like my wolf isn’t snarling at me to drag her to the ground, close my teeth in the junction of her shoulder and neck and put my mark on her so every man and shifter knows she’s mine.

But something has caught my attention. Something different from the last time I saw her. She is missing the gold band on her wedding finger.

She clears her throat, fingers tensing on her open car door. “I was in the area and thought I would stop by.”

I should respond, but I can’t stop staring at her left hand.

Does that mean what I think it means, or is it just wishful thinking?

She must spot where I’m looking for her to drop her hand and say sheepishly, “Uh, it’s probably not a good wife thing to do to misplace your wedding ring, is it?”

She’s smiling, but I’m not getting the whole truth here. Maybe not even a sliver of it.

“Right.”

The silence extends and her smile slowly fades. “If this isn’t a good time, I can?—”

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