Page 19 of Mismatched Mates (Special Bear Protectors)

GRANT

T he dopamine from the wedding lasted precisely two days, during which we barely stopped messaging one another. As far as our original agreement went, this was supposed to be the end of it, but it felt more like the beginning. As the son of the alpha, my life had never really felt like my own, but I thought maybe I could make something of it. For her. With her. Or at least, we could see where things went.

That was until my father called me into his office. The heavy door closed behind me with a thud. His office always had that effect—like stepping into the belly of a beast. The familiar scent of leather couldn't mask the underlying tension.

Father sat behind his mahogany fortress, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me want to squirm. But I didn't. Elston men don't squirm, after all.

"Grant," he said, my name a low rumble in his throat.

“Father,” I replied, aiming for casual and missing the mark. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He grunted and glanced up from his computer. “How was the wedding?”

“Surprisingly good. No brawls, although I think a few people were tempted. Might even have gone for it if I wasn’t there as the groom’s sister’s boyfriend.” A position that had been new for me. Until her, I’d never let anyone get close enough to invite me to an important family event—and until her, I’d never wanted to be.

But being there, seeing her beaming with the bride, in a purple bridesmaid dress that dropped all the way to the floor and ruffled around her breasts, had been almost more than I could take.

If it hadn’t been for the boys and the distraction they’d provided, I’d have fixated over not being part of the photographs, even though logic told me there was a very good reason for it.

“You didn’t break things off with her?”

I frowned. “No. Why would I?”

He finally turned the screen to face me. “Because she might have something to say about this.”

He slid a set of glossy photographs across the polished surface of his desk. My stomach did a nosedive as I recognized myself in the images, with a woman I could barely even remember. We were holding hands, and in one of the pictures, we were kissing. The headline screamed about my new girl, but all I could see were my lips locked against hers. Sirens went off in my head.

I couldn’t even remember her name.

We’d dated months ago, gone out maybe once or twice, before we’d mutually agreed to end things where they were. I hadn’t so much as thought about her in probably close to eight months, and certainly not after meeting Jane.

Shit.

"Care to explain?" Father's voice was deceptively calm, like the stillness before a storm. “I asked you to keep your nose clean,” he said. “I told you to date this girl and not to get involved with anyone else. To respect the family and what we’re trying to achieve.”

“You don’t seriously believe I did this.”

I grabbed another photo, pointing to a detail in the background. "Look, see that billboard? It's advertising a movie that came out five years ago. These aren't recent. “They’re claiming I saw her yesterday, but I was home all yesterday evening. This is bullshit.”"

He glanced at the photo, his expression unchanged. "Even if that's true, Grant?—"

“This happened ages ago.” I skimmed the article, fingers curling into a fist at the blatant lies.

He slammed a hand on the table, making me jump. “The timeline doesn’t matter. It’s all about perception. And right now, you are a liability we can’t afford.”

I shook my head, reaching in my pocket for my phone. Jane. Jane would think this was true. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the rest of the world, but Jane needed to know I hadn’t done this. That whatever we were building—whatever the hell that was—was real.

“Don’t you dare,” he snapped. “Don’t you dare walk out of this room. That’s an order, Grant. As your alpha.”

My spine locked. There were two conflicting tugs inside me—one telling me to leave, and the other to stay. Jane and Vince. If I left, I would risk my tenuous position in the pack, in the company, and the family.

If I stayed and didn’t explain myself, I was risking losing Jane.

“Father,” I said, turning back to face him. The truth had chased me down, and there was nowhere left to run. Nowhere to go but acceptance.

And there was only one place I needed to be.

“There’s something you don’t know about Jane and me.”