Chapter49
So much for “not into she-wolves” or being a gentleman. It was all a front!
Alpha Gideon grabbed the chair, spinning it to face him.
“Where are you running off to?”
I fumed. If I don’t run, I’m about to get workplace-harassed!
“I can’t do it. Find someone else.”
“Elliot’s out.”
I’m a stand-in for Elliot?
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I didn’t know whether to scoff at his apparent equal-opportunity charm or feel insulted that my allure was
outshined by Elliot’s.
Seeing my mix of defiance and barely contained anger, Alpha Gideon reached out, plopping a stack of folders
in front of me.
“Vivian, is it really that hard to do a little work?”
I stared at the folders.
“It’s just work,” I muttered, mortified.
Alpha Gideon’s sharp ears caught my mumble.
He narrowed his eyes.
“What did you think I meant?”
My cheeks blazed crimson.
I stammered, grasping for an excuse.
“Oh, I thought you meant, like, cleaning or something. I can’t exactly move around well, so I said I couldn’t do
it.”
Alpha Gideon stayed silent, arms crossed, leaning against the edge of the desk with a knowing look-like he saw right through me but wasn’t rushing to call me out.
After a beat, he chuckled, his voice low and teasing.
“Vivian, you’ve got quite the imagination.”
My face felt like it was on fire.
Is he saying I’m fantasizing about him?
Mortified, my cheeks practically bleeding, I couldn’t find words to dig myself out.
I ducked my head, flipping open the folder in front of me to change the subject.
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“What do I need to do? I’ll get right on it.”
Alpha Gideon let it slide, mercifully.
He sat across from me, giving clear work instructions before diving back into his own tasks-typing,
scribbling notes, his pen scratching against paper like a whispered secret.
The study fell quiet, filled only with the rustle of paper and the soft hum of the lamp.
For a full hour, I didn’t look up, pouring myself into the work with a focus so intense I practically forgot where
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I was.
Alpha Gideon glanced at me now and then, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Frank, bustling in the kitchen, popped out once, puzzled to find no one in the living room.
Where’s Alpha Gideon?
Did it take this long to pick her up?
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He had no idea Alpha Gideon had roped me into work.
Even the toughest alpha wouldn’t push an injured pack member that hard.
When dinner was ready and still no sign of us, Frank called-his ringtone, a loud, cheerful tune, jolting me out of my focus.
Ten minutes later, Alpha Gideon wheeled me out of the study.
I looked wilted, dazed, like a pup who wanted to bolt but didn’t dare-embarrassment still clinging to me like
a bad scent.
We reached the dining room, where Frank eagerly pulled out a chair.
Alpha Gideon maneuvered me over, then paused, leaning down with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“If I lift you, you’re not gonna read into it, right?”
His serious tone dripped with mockery, thick enough to taste.
I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Frank, oblivious to the subtext, thought Alpha Gideon was being overly gentlemanly-so considerate of her
injury.
“Heh, I’m good in the wheelchair,” I said, my smile as strained as if I’d bitten into a chili pepper.
“Guess you’re overthinking again,”
Alpha Gideon said as he straightened up.
I’m not! I screamed internally.
Dinner was a feast.
Frank’s cooking outshone even pro chefs-rich, flavorful, with that homey warmth only a pack cook could
nail.
I, channeling my embarrassment into appetite, tore through the meal-soup, roasted veggies, everything- snatching up slices of seasoned venison before Alpha Gideon could grab them.
Frank beamed, thrilled to see his food devoured.
Alpha Gideon never ate with this much gusto.
“It’s that good?”
Alpha Gideon asked, amused, sliding the last piece of venison onto my plate.
“Here, it’s all yours.”
I froze mid-bite, meeting his smiling eyes-warm, not mocking.
Okay, maybe I’d gone a bit feral.
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< Chapter49
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I slowed down, sheepish, my fork clinking against the plate.
Frank ladled me another bowl of soup.
As I thanked him, I couldn’t help gushing,
“Frank, were you a chef in another life? This is amazing.”
Frank’s grin was so wide it barely fit his face.
“Just know what wolves like, that’s all.”
I asked about his recipes-how he got the broth so rich, what herbs he used for the venison-and we hit it off, chatting like old friends.
At one point, Frank said, “If you love my cooking, come by every day.”
“Sounds great!” I replied, then caught myself.
“Wait, I mean, not every day. That’d be too much.”
A cool voice floated across the table.
“No need to feel shy about it.”
I glanced at Alpha Gideon, his expression neutral-but I swear, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Frank jumped on it.
“It’s settled then! I’ll make extra dishes from now on.”
I blinked, stunned.
I was just making conversation-how’d it turn into a daily dinner invite?
And was Alpha Gideon’s “no need to feel shy” a jab at how much I’d eaten?
After dinner, I was itching to leave, but the half-finished work nagged at me.
I turned to Alpha Gideon.
“Can I take the work home?”
“No need,” he said, his tone final.
I heard it loud and clear: You’re not leaving till it’s done.
“Alright,” I sighed, wheeling myself back to the study.
Alpha Gideon, caught off guard, let out a quiet laugh but didn’t stop me.
I powered through the tasks he’d given me, finishing by 11 PM.
Stuffed from dinner and fighting sleep, my eyelids drooped-heavy, like someone had weighted them down. When I was done, I could barely keep them open.
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“Alpha Gideon, I’m heading back,” I said, yawning as I maneuvered the wheelchair out.
I misjudged a turn, bumping the desk.
My knee hit hard, jarring my injury, snapping me awake with a wince-pain shooting up my leg like a spark. Alpha Gideon was at my side in a flash, his hand hovering near my leg, his voice tight.
“Did you tear the wound?”
He crouched, lifting my skirt to check without waiting for permission-urgent, like he needed to confirm I wasn’t bleeding out, that I didn’t need a healer.
I caught my breath, my heart skipping a beat.
“It pulled a bit, but I don’t think it’s torn.”
Alpha Gideon confirmed no blood was seeping through the bandage.
But as he looked, his gaze drifted from the wound to my slender, pale legs-soft, unmarked, a faint scent of jasmine hitting his senses, sweet and subtle.
His throat tightened, his palm itching like it wanted to reach out, to touch-
He quickly tugged my skirt back down, his voice steady, like nothing had happened.
“I’ll take you home.”
I started to protest, but he was already pushing me out.
We rode down in silence, the elevator walls pressing in.
Alpha Gideon dropped me off and left without a second’s pause.
I watched his brisk exit, puzzled.
What’s his deal? Acting like I’d drag him back inside if he lingered.
My phone buzzed in my pocket-Cassie, checking in.
As I typed a reply, the elevator dinged, rising from below.
The doors opened, revealing a drunken, flushed Adrian-stumbling, his tie loose, his scent reeking of whiskey -facing a stone-faced Alpha Gideon.
Their eyes locked, both startled.
Alpha Gideon’s expression turned icy.
I froze, my phone slipping from my hand.
This was not good.
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