Page 19 of Forced Plus-Size Mate

“I would,” Decker swears. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Calm down,” Bae says, waving his hands. “Please, everyone just calm down. We can work this out.”

“I doubt it,” Decker replies. “But I will take myself and my men from here now, as a gesture to you of good faith. I will talk to you about this soon. I may be prepared to concede that one marriage need not break our bond.”

I can see all kinds of arguments in Bae, but he simply nods. “We will talk soon. Thank you, Decker.”

The guys turn to leave, and I hurry back to the main table. The last thing I want is to get roped into a discussion about the validity of my marriage and the future of wolves and witches.

I’d like to know if my marriage is going to work first.

I grab a chair on my way over and push myself into the corner of the table so I can sit next to Amanda. She doesn’t look at me, even when I take her hand.

Warm currents seem to be passing between us, light, glittering waves of sensation that swish back and forth in time with our hearts. Even though she is ignoring me, I know she feels it, too.

I just don’t know what it means. Is this magic?

Bae and Rider join us, and for a short time, everyone forgets their troubles. A few toasts are held, short speeches are made, and finally, cake is passed around.

It’s silly, but I’d forgotten how Amanda was such a big part of everyone’s lives. I always thought she was just mine, but all of these people love her, too.

So why did she leave? Why did she run out on us?

I start to feel very uncomfortable as I realize I already know the reason.

The party wraps up, and we head out the front to my truck. Amanda doesn’t look at me, just walks in front of me with her head held high.

“Amanda, I—” I begin.

“Yes?” she asks, regarding me with her steady, firm gaze.

“Nothing,” I mutter, getting in the truck and starting it up. I wait for Amanda to get buckled in before I put the car in gear and pull out of the lot.

I weave through the streets, taking the road out of town.

“Where are we going?” Amanda asks.

“Oh, I live out of town. It’s a little cabin I bought for myself with some of my inheritance.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “I forgot how rich your parents are.”

“Well, actually, the money is from my dead uncle, and my parents still haven’t recovered from the fact that I spent it all on a beat-up, old cabin and not on college.”

She frowns. “You didn’t go?”

I shrug. “I had pack responsibilities that were far more important.”

“Oh,” she says. “Okay.”

We drive the rest of the way in silence, though it’s not quite as awkward as it was before.

Maybe we can find that old spark. We got on so well. I’ve never felt so close to anyone, before or since.

The dirt driveway bounces us around a little as I navigate through the thick trees, which give way to a wide, sweeping circle of gravel in front of the house. Amanda lets out a chuckle once the house comes into full view.

“Old, beat-up cabin?” she says pointedly.

“Well,” I say, grinning. “I may have made some improvements.”

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