Alpha's to Mate: 3 Book Shifter Romance Bundle

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Later that day, Tarsha walked up to her building, a Brooklyn brownstone that had seen better days. It had been her home since she had finished college. Certainly it was not the fanciest or the largest of apartments, but it was home to her. After losing her parents, she thought that no place would ever feel like home again. Slowly, though, her little efficiency apartment had come to feel like home. It was cozy and she was surrounded by her artwork, able to create whatever and whenever she wanted.

She hand hung a curtain to turn the large main room in to two smaller ones, making her very own studio. A little nook off the room served as her own little library and a larger nook served as her bedroom. It was not large enough for a full bed, so instead she had placed a mattress on the floor and covered it with throw pillows. After she hung her silk curtain at the end, it made it quite a cozy space. To her, it felt like being inside of her own little genie bottle.

As she walked up the stairs to the front door, she was so thankful that she was going to have such a place to bring her baby to. It was small, but it was her own. She thought of turning her studio into a nursery, but in the end had decided against it. It seemed to her that the best spot was her library. There would be just enough room for a small bassinet and dresser and her baby would sleep surrounded by all of her favorite tales and artistic volumes.

While she had been there for years, the old lady who lived on the first floor had been there for decades. Mrs. Sampson was a kind and wonderful woman, who often had her down for coffee and told her stories about her days working as a singer for the USO during World War II. She even let Tarsha paint her portrait every so often. The basement apartment and the second floor apartment constantly had new tenants, artists and students who came and went so often that she had stopped trying to get to know them well.

It was Mrs. Sampson who stuck her head out of the door to tell her that she had a visitor. She apologized for not letting him in to the apartment, but she had been a little worried that he was not the friend he claimed to be. After assuring her that she had done the right thing, she rushed up to see who was waiting for her, though she was sure she knew who it was.

There, leaning against her door stood Cole Barron, again dressed in all black. She wondered in passing if it was a coincidence that he was again in black or if that was all he wore. The look on his face pushed the thought from her mind, though. He was not there to comfort her, nor was he happy to be there. His anger was clear, as well his discomfort were painfully obvious to her, though she thought it seemed as though he was trying to conceal them.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unwilling to allow him to take control of the conversation after he had invaded her private sanctuary. There had been a reason she had only given him a phone number. She had wanted to see him again on her own terms, not to be cornered by him in her home.

“You are pregnant?” he asked, looked at her as though he was convinced without a doubt that she was a liar. She could not fault him for that. They had slept together so recently that she would have been suspicious too if she were him, but he had been her only lover for nearly a year. There was no doubt that he was the father, whether he liked it or not.

“Yes, my note told you that. Why are you here?” she demanded, making no effort to open the door and invite him in to her apartment. He might have infiltrated her building, but she had no plans of allowing him in to her home. That was the one private, quiet space she had left and she was not going to ruin that. If he wanted to talk to her so badly, they could do it in the hallway. Mrs. Sampson was too deaf to hear most of what they said and the other two tenants did not know her or care what they heard about her.

“Did you think I would not come?” he growled, looking indignant, but she was not sure if that indignation was born of his resentment that she had suggested he was the father of her child or at the suggestion that he might have shirked his duties as a father to the child within her.

“Well, I left you a phone number so that we could talk. I did not give you my address,” she countered as she placed her bag on the floor beside her. Though the book she had started to read said it was too early for her to be feeling the effects of the pregnancy, she already felt herself growing tired more quickly than ever before and holding the bag full of books was not helping matters.

“I do not need to be given anyone’s address. I have people who take care of that for me,” he snapped at her.

“How nice for you,” she snapped back, not intimidated by his tone or his money. Then, the strangest thing happened. He paused and stared at her stomach in the oddest way, as if he was communicating directly with the baby within her. She was not sure what he was up to, but she did not like it.

“Explain this to me,” he ordered, though his expression had softened.

“Why does everyone have such a hard time with the concept of pregnant,” she said sarcastically, sitting down on the stoop outside her apartment as she began to feel the effects of her long walk earlier.

“I understand that. It is just impossible that you are pregnant after that one night with me,” he said, looking as though he was beginning to doubt his own certainty.

“Well, I am and you are the only possible father of this child,” she cried, no longer in the mood to be lectured. Though she could see that something about him had changed suddenly, she was not sure what. He seemed to have turned thoughtful and she wished she knew what was happening within his mind as he stared at her.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded, unwilling to believe her note. There was no woman who wanted nothing from him, especially one who claimed to be carrying his child.

“Did you not read my note? I want nothing from you,” she answered, looking at him as though she thought he was a total and utter fool. Never since he came to New York had anyone looked at him like that, and he might have found it refreshing if he was not so angry himself.

“Then why did you even tell me?” he demanded, pulling her note from his pocket and waving it around like it was evidence of some kind.

“Because my friend convinced me that you had a right to know,” she said, as though she had made a grave error in heeding her friend’s advice.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking for the first time like he genuinely cared to know what she wanted in all of this. She could not deny that she was angry that he had not even asked her if the baby was healthy. He seemed to only care about blaming her and denying what they both knew was true.

“I have no idea, but I need to be somewhere. Call next time before you come here,” she said as she rose from her seat and picked up her bag. She let herself in to her apartment carefully so as not to allow him even a look inside. Now, her private space was more important to her than ever.

“I will come whenever I want,” he growled at her, unaccustomed to being denied anything by women.

“You do not own me or this building. Call before you come here next time,” she repeated before slamming the door behind her.

Cole was so angry that he could not think. He left her apartment building with his blood boiling. There was no doubt that she was pregnant, but he knew that the child could not be his. The only place that werebears had babies with humans was in the old wives tales that his father had told him when he was a cub. Still, he could not deny that she was pregnant. It was invisible to the mortal eye, of course, but he could hear the second heartbeat clearly and it was coming from her womb.

His first reaction had been a deeper anger at the thought that she was trying to convince him that he was the father of another man’s baby. He could not deny, though, what he felt when he heard the heartbeat told him a different story. That tiny heartbeat felt like an extension of his own. It was like it was a part of him that was growing inside of her.

He tried to be rational. He thought of everything he knew that told him the child that grew within her was put there by another man, but nothing silenced his inner bear as it roared within him and told him that the child was his, whether he accepted it or not.

He had never been so confused before. He was a decisive man, one who took actions and did not rethinks them. In that moment, though, he had no idea what to do. Out of options and ideas, he knew what he had to do. He needed to go and see the one man who always helped him make the right choice, his father.

With that decision made, he rounded the corner and jumped in his car. With its high performance engine and his enhanced senses, he was able to make the trip in half the time it would take a human. The only real problem was getting his sports car up the rocky, winding road that led to the village. In need of some fresh air to clear his head, he parked the car in a lot often used by hikers, where it most definitely stood out among the pickup trucks and SUVs that surrounded it. He did not hesitate. He simply threw it in park and bounded from the car. In his thousand dollar shoes, he began to hike up the mountain to his home.

As soon as he got far enough away to ensure that he was not in view of anyone else, he took his bear form. It had been months since he had allowed himself to run free and the transformation instantly did wonders for him. He ran up the mountain, giving himself over entirely to his bear side. By the time he arrived at the village, he was feeling freer that he had in months. It was only when he saw his father standing there, clearly drawn by his scent as he approached, that he was reminded of his true purpose in coming home.

His father stood there waiting for him, a tall and muscular man. To him, his father had always felt larger than life. Though he had grown to be his father’s match in both size and strength, that feeling had never changed. His father was his rock, the one person that he could always count on to make sure that he stayed on the right path in his life. Even when he still lived with the tribe, people cared mostly about his position as the Chief’s eldest son. Everyone wanted something from him, just as they did now. It had been his father who had taught him how to tell what was real and genuine in the world and he loved him deeply for it.

“Father,” he sighed, already feeling better from sheer proximity to his father’s calming presence.

“Cole, it has been ages since you have been here. What is wrong? You look as agitated as I have ever seen you,” his father said as he embraced him.

“We cannot get human women pregnant, can we? You always told me that we could not,” he said, unable to delay his question with polite conversation or small talk. He desperately needed to know what it all meant, because he knew it was impossible that the child was his but he could not deny that he was drawn to both the unborn baby and its stubborn mother.

“I never told you that. I told you that the only way that you could get a human female pregnant was if she was the true love of your life, the mate who you were destined to spend your life with,” his father said, giving him the same look that he had when Cole had not done the proper amount of preparing for his lessons as a child.

“It is impossible,” Cole said to himself, beginning to pace back and forth as he thought of his time with Tarsha. It was true that their lovemaking had felt like something entirely new to him, but he had simply thought it was because she had no pretension about her. He had been able to focus on the physical without the pretense of anything more with her because she had been so open with him about her desires. What if, though, it felt different because she was something special? What if his inner bear cried out for her because she was the one?

“What is impossible? Cole, tell me what is going on,” his father demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him from his own thoughts.

“I slept with a girl. It was just one night. I hardly knew her. I can’t deny that there was some kind of spark between us, but it was not love. Now she says that she is pregnant and that I am the father. I do not know what to do,” he admitted, suddenly feeling so relieved to have bared his soul to his father. His entire life, it always brought him peace to talk about things with his father, no matter what the topic was. If he expected his father to tell him exactly what to do next, though, he was sadly mistaken.

The old man smiled at him indulgently, clearly pleased at the thought that his son had found his true love and that there would soon be a grand cub for him to love and dote on. His father had always loved children and had long ago begun to doubt that Cole would ever settle down and raise a family. His other son, Cole’s younger brother, was no closer to a family of his own than his elder brother, a fact that their father never let either of them forget.

“Well, you need to figure it out,” his father said plainly, trying to keep his own opinions to himself so that his son could make his own decision. There was one fact that he needed to make sure Cole had not forgotten. “You know the other half of that legend, do you not?” he asked directly.

“Refresh my memory,” Cole replied, though he knew that part of the story well because it had always seemed the most nonsensical to him.

“If she is pregnant with your child, you must marry her before the child is born. Otherwise, the love that could be between you will die,” his father warned, with no trace of doubt on his face. Whether or not Cole believed it, it was clear that his father did.

“I do not know that I want love or a mate. I like my life the way that it is,” he admitted, thinking of how drastically everything would change if he took a wife. If there was the spark of love between them, he could choose to walk away. Once the child was born, his chance for a wife and a true love would be gone forever, just as any threat to his bachelor lifestyle would be.

“You will need to decide that for yourself, but be very sure because you will not be able to revive that love once it is dead,” he father said bluntly, his eyes turning sad as she thought of his own love, long dead. There was nothing that he would not have done for a moment more with her after she passed away when the boys were young. Watching his son consider throwing away that kind of love was a hard thing to watch.

“I have some work to do then, don’t I?” Cole asked, wishing that his father would consider coming back to the city with him to meet the girl and see for himself what the situation was. He knew better than to ask. His father was the chief, after all, and he did not leave his people.

“Yes you do and you cannot do it here. Get back in that fancy car of yours and get back to the city. Promise me that you will at least get to know the girl,” his father asked, unable to keep himself from sharing his feelings any longer. He needed his son to at least give himself a chance at the kind of happiness that only love and a family could bring.

“I owe her and the child that; at least that,” Cole agreed, though he was not sure that she would be open to that after their conversation earlier. There was no denying that she had a temper as fierce as his. If she did become his wife, the thought of the fights they might have was enough to make him chuckle. Still, the thought of coming home to her in his bed every night had a distinct appeal to it.

“Yes, you do. Now go one and get back to her,” his father said, waving him off. That, Cole thought, was a first. Usually, his father was eager to ask him to stay as long as he could when he made the trip out from the city. Now, he was just as eager to see him go back to what awaited him in New York.

“Yes Father,” he said as he embraced his father. Then, he took his bear form once again and ran down the hill. He could not explain what had changed in him, but he was now eager to see what Tarsha had in store for him. Once way or another, he was going to be a father. He just needed to decide if he wanted to be a husband too. As he drove back to the city, his resolve weakened. Instead of going right back to her apartment, he returned to his own penthouse and poured a stiff drink while he contemplated their future.

Tarsha walked home from the art store down the street the next day, hoping to lose herself in painting while she tried to make sense of everything that had changed in her life in just two weeks. As she entered the brownstone and began to head up the stairs, Mrs. Sampson stuck her head out to once again let her know that her gentleman caller had returned. She added, he looked much calmer this time. The twinkle in her eye was one that only old ladies recalling the love of their youth tended to have. She said nothing more, but she did wink at Tarsha before closing the door behind her.

There, standing against her door again, was Cole Barron. He was dressed more casually this time, wearing jeans and a grey sweater that extenuated his muscular chest. He was undeniably handsome, but she was not about to be swayed by his good looks. She was too angry that he had once again ignored her wishes and just showed up at her home. If this was a sign of what the next nine months would be like, she was worried. She decided then and there to make sure he understood that she did not belong to him. He needed to realize that she was not an apartment or a sports car and she was not for sale.

“What are you doing here? I told you to call,” she snapped as she clutched her bag to keep from dropping it as her hands began to shake with anger.

“You told me that I did not own your or the building,” he pointed out as he tried to take the bag from her to ease her burden.

“And you do not own me,” she added, holding tightly to the handle to spite him.

“No, but now I own the building,” he said, flashing a wicked smile. He had woken up and realized that either way, he was not going to allow his child to be raised in a dump like the one she lived in. He might not be able to force her to move, but he could make the place safer.

“What?” she asked in shock, dropping her bag.

“Thank you. It was a good suggestion,” he said nonchalantly as he bent to gather the bag and its spilled contents.

“Are you some sort of crazy stalker?” she demanded.

“No, but I need to get to know the woman who is carrying my child,” he said plainly, as though people routinely bought entire buildings in order to get to know another person.

“So you bought my home? Why? Is this leverage or something?” she asked skeptically.

“No. The building is in deplorable shape. If you are going to live here while you are pregnant, serious improvements need to be made. I thought of buying you another home and strongly suggesting that you move, but that seemed a little heavy handed,” he said with a mischievous smile.

“Yes, that would have been extreme,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?” he asked genuinely.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, already knowing the answer. She owed it to her child to grow to know his father.

“A lady always has a choice,” he said, already able to tell her answer from the resigned look on her face.

“Then why don’t you come here for dinner. I will actually invite you in the apartment and cook dinner. We have some sensitive matters to discuss and I am sure that you do not want them overheard,” she suggested.

“Very well. What time should I arrive?” he asked, a bit surprised that she had agreed so quickly.

“7:30?” she asked, trying to think what she had in the apartment that she could throw together to make a meal.

“Very well. I will see you then,” he answered, turning and leaving before she had a change to change her mind.

*