Alpha's to Mate: 3 Book Shifter Romance Bundle

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next day, Tarsha was doing her best to keep from thinking of Cole Bowell. She had been prepared for an evening of tension and fighting. Instead, she had felt more at home with him than she had since she lost her family. It was so strange to her. Besides Gwen, she had very few people who made her feel safe. After losing her parents at such a young age, she had become very wary of letting people get that close to her. Sitting there with him the night before, it had been like he had been in her life for years. Her instincts told her to open up to him. She had shared stories with him that Gwen had never even heard about her childhood, stories that were usually too painful for her to talk about.

It seemed most likely to her that it was all the product of her pregnancy hormones, but it was still a bit unsettling. It was even more unsettling because of the fact that she wanted so badly to prove to him that she wanted nothing from him. Fawning all over him was sure to have the opposite effect. Her first impulse was to call Gwen and go over all the details of the night. It was what she always did after dinner with a man, especially when she was particularly confused by the evening’s events.

She picked up the phone half a dozen times, but something always stopped her. Deep down, she wanted to keep the details of her night with Cole to herself. She wanted to hug them close and savor in the intimacy of them. For that reason, she did what she usually did when she was processing something she was not ready to talk to anyone about. She painted. She started with the first light of the morning and was well lost in her work when her phone rang. The ring startled her because so few people ever called her landline. Most used her cell phone, which she always silenced when she painted. It took her minutes to get the paint off her hands but she made it to her phone just before the machine picked it up.

“Hello,” she gasped, out of breath from rushing about to find the phone.

“Tarsha?” Cole asked, thrown off by the sound of her voice and her rapid breathing.

“Who is this?” she asked, sure that it must be a telemarketer. Who else, she thought, would call the landline. The only person who usually did was her landlord, but since she knew that Cole had bought the building, that seemed unlikely.

“It’s Cole. I am sorry to call you out of the blue. This is the number that they gave me for you when I bought the building,” he explained, unsure what to make of her tone.

“Why are you calling? My doctor appointment isn’t for another 2 weeks,” she said bluntly. Him calling her, when she had just cleared him from her mind, threw her in to a bit of a tizzy.

“I know but we do have a few other things we need to do,” he explained, pushing on despite her confused reaction to his call.

“Like what?” she asked, her guard not going down. She was not sure what he was up to, but she had the distinct feeling that he was trying to manipulate her in to something and she hated nothing more than being manipulated.

She was, of course, correct. Cole had been up all night thinking about how he could get close to her without her pushing him away. He knew, of course, that he had started them off on this path of distance when he had come at her with an accusing tone when they first spoke about the baby.

It was then that he had realized that the baby was the answer. The evening before, she had agreed to allow him to buy the baby furnishings for the apartment. Though she might not want to get close to him at the moment, that was one thing that they did need to do together and he saw it as the perfect opportunity to spend more time with her.

“Well, we need to get some baby furniture that will fit in your apartment,” he said innocently. He could hear her take a deep breath and he could sense victory at hand. She would not deprive the baby of anything. She was not capable of denying him if it was for the baby’s best interest.

“I think we have a little time,” she said hesitantly, though her resolve was wavering. She had been longing to see him again from the moment that he walked out of her door the night before. Seeing him for something as innocent as shopping for baby furniture seemed safe enough.

“Not really. I was thinking we could go looking to see if we can find something to fit in that nook you have chosen for the nursery. If not, we will have to have something made and that will take time,” he pointed out, making so much sense that he even surprised himself.

“I suppose you are right,” she conceded, surprising him. He had expected it to take more convincing to get her on board with his plan. He took her willingness as a positive sign.

“Tomorrow then,” he said, not wanting to give her enough time to change her mind.

“Tomorrow?” she said hesitantly, realizing that spending time with him again so soon was going to make her plan to keep her distance more difficult.

“I can pick you up around 10 o’clock,” he offered, continuing as though he could not hear the doubt that had crept in to her voice.

“I have an 8 o’clock class. If you pick me up at 10 you will need to meet me at the university. Is that a problem?” she asked after a long pause.

“Not at all,” he said, relieved that she was willing to commit.

“Alright then,” she said, hanging up the phone before she lost her nerve.

The next morning, Cole waiting, leaning against his car outside of the university building that Tarsha had given him the address to. He had no idea what one wore to buy baby furniture, so he had decided to be casual, wearing a blue tee shirt and jeans. He did his best to keep from looking anxious, but his inner bear was raging to see her. It has been two days. For any normal person, that would not have seemed long at all but for him it had been an eternity. It was all he could do to keep from charging in to find her.

His intense desire to lay eyes on her was enough to make him turn away, drive off and never see her again. He had no desire to feel that way about anyone, let alone a woman. The rational part of his brain was telling him to set up a trust for her and the child and to go off to Europe until the baby was born to ensure that whatever love and chemistry that there was between them would be gone. The most primal part of him, though, would never allow that to happen and he knew that it would be wrong. He had to explore what he felt for her before making the choice not to pursue her.

Finally, she emerged from the building. The other students emerged in small groups. She came through the door alone though. It was as if she glowed. The sunlight hit her perfectly and her smile lit up the world. As she came towards him, it looked as though she was floating. He could hear her heartbeat and the baby’s above all others and the bear within him finally calmed.

“Good morning,” he said stiffly, working hard to hold himself back from touching her.

“Hello,” she said, looking so cheerful that he could not help but smile back. She was wearing jeans as well, with a cheerful red sweater. Anyone else might have missed it, but he could see the baby within her beginning to show. Each time he saw her, he saw more slight changes in her body as it grew. The thought that a little piece of him was within her was oddly calming. Focusing on that was one of the only things that could silence his inner bear.

“Let me take that bag for you,” he said as he reached for the heavy book bag that she was carrying.

“I am allowed to carry things,” she answered defensively, though he could have had it out of her hands in a heartbeat. Instead, he waited. He did not want to force her hand.

“Humor me,” he asked innocently as he reached for the bag.

“Alright,” she said reluctantly as she eased the bag off her shoulder. He gripped it and lifted it from her hands before she could change her mind. It was not quite zipped shut. He could see the books inside. There were books with works by Edna St. Vincent Millay and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Cleary, her class was one on the literature of the 1920s.

“Why are you taking literature classes when you are an artist,” he asked as he walked around the car and opened the door for her. Before helping her in to the car, he tossed the bag behind the seat and closed the door behind her.

“Do you really want to know?” she asked with a laugh as he opened his own door and settled in to the driver seat. The sound of her laughter warmed something inside of him. Usually, spending extended time with anyone led to his eventual disillusionment with them. With Tarsha, though, each moment he spent with her was more endearing.

“Yes. I could understand if it was a more practical, trade based major but a masters in literature is about as useful as an art degree,” he said, confused by her decision. For her part, Tarsha was confused by why he wanted to know. He was clearly trying to understand her on some kind of more meaningful level.

“It is good for my soul,” she said, a dreamy expression on her face. The only thing that brought her as much happiness as her painting was getting lost in the artful words of literature. She did not care whether it was a short story, a poem, or a novel. Whatever form the written word took, she adored it.

“Not so much for your bank account,” he pointed out as he gently pulled from his parking spot. Usually, he would have zipped in and out of traffic with reckless abandon. His heightened senses made it easy for him to avoid peril, no matter how he skirted danger. With her and his unborn child in the car, he could not bring himself to do it. It seemed a waste to drive his sports car at such a reasonable speed, but he could not bring himself press any harder on the gas.

“I have never worried much about that. I have always believed that if I do the things I love and try to be a generally good person, things will work themselves out,” she said with a shrug as she began to relax in the leather seat beside him. She put her window down and leaned her head against the side of the car, doing her best to combat the nausea that the pregnancy caused.

“And how is that working for you?” he asked with a smirk. Even before he had moved to New York, he had never seen much value in such things. His apartment in New York was full of artwork because of the impression that it made upon those who visited, not because he cared much for it. The only artwork that had ever made him feel much of anything was hers.

“Well, I have a place to live and food to eat so my survival needs are met. I have good friends and creativity to bring me joy and now I am going to be a mother. I cannot think of one thing I would change,” she said with a genuine smile. She did not seem at all bothered by his clear judgment of her. In fact, she seemed quite amused by his inability to understand that which gave her such joy.

“You are a remarkable person,” he blurted out, unable to keep the words in as he stared at her in awe. She was so beautiful and loving and open. She was everything he was not and he could not help but appreciate the woman who was so clearly his opposite.

“Thank you. What about you? Would you change anything?” she asked genuinely, though it was in part to change the subject away from herself. She could feel his regard and it made her a bit uncomfortable. She was not use to such attention and she did not know how to respond to it.

“If you are talking about the child, the answer is no. I never thought much about having children. I have been so focused on my career for so long that it was never a priority, but now that I know it is happening I could not be happier. The thought of a little piece of me and those who came before me living on in a child is now quite dear to my heart,” he said with a sincerity that surprised both of them.

“Does your family know about the baby?” she asked. She had been too curious not to ask the question; though she worried it might be too personal for him.

“Yes,” he said with a grin. “My father is so excited. He was afraid with the life I lead that I would never bring him a grandchild.” On each of his rare visits to see the family, his father had pointed out that very fact to him.

“That is sweet,” she said, loving that her child was going to have a loving grandparent. With her own parents gone, she had worried that her baby would not know that special relationship.

“Yes, he is the strongest person I know, yet he manages to also be the most caring,” Cole said fondly. No other parent in their tribe would have encouraged a child to go off and follow their dreams, especially if their dreams took them so far away. His father cared little about that. All he had ever wanted was for his sons to be truly happy.

“Is he all the family that you have?” she asked, suddenly realizing that it was possible that the baby could have even more family that she had never considered.

“No, I have a younger brother as well,” he answered, though the way that his face tensed when he spoke the words told her that the relationship was a strained one. As an artist, she was a keen observer and there was no denying that there was something that he was not telling her about his brother.

“Does he know?” she asked, hoping to give him the avenue to share with her if he chose to.

“I have not seen him to tell him but I am sure our father has. They live near each other and father does not believe in secrets,” he said with a smirk that almost made her laugh out loud. It then occurred to her that she might never get to meet either of the men he was talking about. If he wanted to, he could keep that part of his life separate from her and the baby, which saddened her deeply.

“Will I get to meet them?” she asked bluntly. Usually she would not have been so forward, but it was not just about her anymore. She wanted the baby to have one big extended family, not two families that never spoke to each other.

“Yes, I think that might be a good idea. You should know the baby’s family,” he answered, looking at her as though it had been quite a silly question to ask. He was not entirely sure how he was going to arrange it, but he had known from the second he realized the child was his that she was going to have to be integrated in to the world of the tribe in some way or another so that they baby could learn how to truly be a werebear.

“I like that he or she will have a family to look over them, besides us, I mean,” she said, clearly pleased with his answer.

“Yes, they believe in tradition and tradition dictates that they will be there to guide the baby whenever he or she has need of them,” he said, unable to keep from allowing a bit of a sarcastic tone to seep in to his voice. They were all going to have some very definite opinions on the raising of the child, first and foremost that he and the child’s mother relocate to the village and raise the baby as a fulltime member of the tribe. That was one thing, he knew for certain, that was never going to happen.

“I like that,” she mused, still thinking about a big extended family for the baby.

“Me too, though it took me years to realize its value,” he admitted, himself pleased that his child would have the tribe to call on if ever there was a need. Though he planned to stand beside the child in all stages of life, knowing that others would be there too was an added comfort.

“Yes, it is hard to really appreciate something until it is no longer there,” she said, a sad smile on her face as she thought about her own parents and how excited they would have been to welcome a grandchild.

“Yes. Well, we have arrived,” he said as he parked the car. She had been so lost in their conversation that she had not realized that he was driving her to the most lavish baby store in all of Manhattan, the same one that the tabloids always reported was frequented by all of the singers and actresses who called New York home.

“We are not shopping for the baby here,” she gasped, thinking of spending thousands of dollars on baby furniture to put in her tiny efficiency apartment.

“Why not?” he asked, looking at her with confusion. He had asked several of his business associates where they had gone to purchase similar things and they had all pointed him to this particular store, swearing by the quality and the service. Money mattered little to him and, because he was paying, he could not see why it mattered to her.

“There will not be a crib in that whole store that costs less than most people pay for their cars,” she said sternly, her arms wrapped tight around her growing stomach as though to protect the baby from the influence of the lavish wealth beyond the doors of the store.

“I want our baby to have the best. I have conceded to your tiny apartment. Let me do this,” he said, looking so sincere that she could not deny him. If he was willing to compromise, she knew that she needed to as well.

“Alright, we will look,” she said, doing her best to hide her skepticism as he rounded the car to help her out.

“Thank you. Keep an eye out while we shop. Perhaps you will see some other things that could be of use. I think you have room in the apartment for a good rocking chair,” he offered as he took her arm and led her in to the store before she could change her mind.

“That would be nice. Thank you,” she said, allowing someone else control of something in her life for the first time in years.

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