Page 15 of Reject Him

Setting her cup of coffee down on the nightstand, Eme turns to Val, who busies herself with making the bed. “So, if you have a job, what is everyone else’s? I know Wayne and Draven’s jobs.”

“Oh, everyone has a purpose in the pack. Ted does the financials. Mary is our barber. Fred and Jake and at least a dozen others patrol the territory. The list goes on and on.”

“The pack seems like a village.” It’s a far cry from her own pack where most had jobs outside of the pack itself. Half of their earned money would go back into the pack, but here, it sounds like everyone gets to keep their own earned wages.

“In many ways it is.” She nods at Eme’s clothes, reminding her to get dressed. Eme huffs and does so. Mug in hand, she crosses her room to the dresser where she unpacked her belongings just last night. She sets the mug down on top of it.

“We’re a tight-knit group,” Val goes on. “A family.”

Eme wonders what that must feel like. Sure, she had her father and the females who helped raise her, but it was never that kind of pack. Everyone just . . . lived together, ran together, shifted together.

“What does the alpha do besides the obvious?” Eme wonders aloud. Her father owns several online businesses, but as far as Eme knows, Logan has no such investments.

“Logan doesn’t have a job outside of the pack, like most of us. Me neither, of course. It’s a full-time job taking care of Logan and Wayne’s houses.”

Eme slides on her socks. “How does he earn an income, then?”

Val pats the pillows then blows a stray strand of blonde hair from her face. “Well, with the alliance, we’ll have more income to support the growing pack. But”—she leans across the bed slightly—“I’ve heard Logan is good at trading stock. I shouldn’t be surprised if he does. He’s smarter than most give him credit for.”

Taking her mug from its place on the dresser, Eme carefully lifts it and takes another sip. “Why doesn’t he just tax the other packs?” The last Head Alpha did. Growing up, she had heard her father always gripe about it.

Val raises an eyebrow. “It is rare that packs bring in enough income to support their numbers. Wolves already have to hide their secret in the workplace. Logan didn’t feel it was right. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Eme thinks it over. “Yeah. Yes, I would.” The more she learns about Logan, the more she agrees with everything he’s about and what he stands for. He’s a fair leader, and for the life of her, she can’t figure out why anyone would want to unseat him like the rogues.

“See?” Val says chipperly. “He’s not such a bad guy, is he?”

“No, no he’s not,” she mumbles while taking another sip.

“So this imprinting thing -”

“Do you have a true mate?” Eme interrupts, already knowing she doesn’t. The boys had said only one couple were true mates in the pack. She has no interest in discussing her private matters and all things imprinting with Logan Brook. She’s still warming up to the idea, and she has no idea how long it will take for her to get comfortable with her end of this alliance. She doesn’t need someone else telling her how to feel.

Val looks taken aback. “No. Hardly anyone finds their true mate. You know this.”

“Have you imprinted?” Eme looks for the scars on Val’s neck and finds nothing.

“Sadly, no. But I’m sure I will someday. Not everyone is as lucky as you.”

Luck. Eme doesn’t feel like this is any sort of luck, but she doesn’t voice it aloud. Voicing it aloud might bring a lecture, and she isn’t interested in a lecture.

She gets the impression that Val thinks Eme’s situation is a dreamy one. Perhaps, in her eyes, it is. Eme didn’t have to go through the process of finding a man that she’d desire to spend the rest of her life with. She didn’t have to go through that trial and error of men, though she’s had plenty of boyfriends. And, to top it off, she was given away to a decent man, a man she can’t bring herself to mate with.

Guilt swirls in her stomach.

“Yeah,” Eme says.

The silence stretches a bit before Val slaps the comforter and says, “Come on, breakfast should be done. Logan will be waiting.”

After eating breakfast with Eme, which was as silent as a grave, Logan made his way to his office. He has a mountain of things to catch up on, but all he can do is stare at his screen.

She hadn’t said a word to him, and he didn’t know what to say either. All he knows is that all he wanted to do was lick the cinnamon roll’s frosting off her cheek. She smelled divine, like a summer breeze, and he could smell the lavender scent of her shampoo every time she moved her head.

What he would give to make her feel the same way he’s starting to feel, and he’s truly feeling something for someone he barely knows. His wolf, on the other hand, is at odds with him. He doesn’t necessarily care about decency. To him, this is simply a mating, and he feels that Logan is overcomplicating the matter.

A knock sounds at his office door, and the person behind it doesn’t wait for an answer.

“Wayne,” Logan says in a way of greeting.