Read Online The Alpha's Choice by Jacqueline Rhoades - Free Book Online
Authors: Jacqueline Rhoades
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name, Tilda's head
snapped up. "You let him run?"
"I did," he nodded. "He said it had been a
while and he missed it, so I let him go."
Tilda looked ready to run out the door after
her wayward son and Kat could understand why. In the few hours
she'd known them, she'd already seen that the man had the mind of a
child and was actually older than Charles though he didn't look
it.
"He can't run, not alone. He gets distracted,
confused... lost."
"He'll be fine. He can't have gone far. I'll
call and he'll come," Charles said confidently.
"He won't," Tilda told him worriedly with a
sharp glance at Kat. "When he runs, he turns deaf. All he hears is
the wild. They'd get so mad at him, but he can't help it. The pull
is too strong, he doesn't hear."
"He'll hear me." Charles stripped his belt
from the loops of his spattered painter's pants. He crossed his
arms and gripped the hem of his shirt in that way men have of
stripping off their shirt and leaving it inside out. Arms stretched
above his head, he offered a perfect display of pectorals and
abs.
His chest was every bit as beautiful as Kat
imagined. Unprepared for her reaction, she sucked in her breath on
a wave of longing and had her arm outstretched to touch him
before she realized she'd moved. Disgusted with herself, she turned
the gesture into a comforting one and laid her hand on Tilda's
shoulder.
"I can look for him, too."
"No, you can't. I want you here, with Mrs.
Martin," Charles ordered.
"Yes, I can. I'm perfectly capable… "
The closing door told her what he thought of
that.
Being a mature adult, Kat wrinkled her nose
and stuck out her tongue at the back of the man striding away from
the door. "Asshole. I wonder if he orders everyone around like that
or just me."
"I imagine he's used to being obeyed," Tilda
observed vaguely.
She was watching through the window, eyes
squinting to see through the sheets of rain that beat against the
windows as the sky released its burden. Her thumb rubbed against
the tips of her fingers in a nervous gesture and her jaw was tight.
Even on such short acquaintance, Kat knew this woman wasn't one to
worry over trivial things. If she was concerned for Buddy's safety,
she had reason to be. A tear formed in the corner of the woman's
eye, just one tear, but it was enough for Kat to make up her
mind.
"I'm going out to look."
Poor Mrs. Martin looked truly alarmed. "You
can't. He said to stay here."
Kat grinned. "Ever hear the words you're not
the boss of me?"
"Don't claim to be, but the Al… Mr. Goodman,
he…"
"Isn't the boss of me either."
Technically he was, but at the moment Kat
didn't care. He was probably going to fire her anyway.
"You don't know these woods. You'll end up
lost, too."
Kat grabbed her keys off the rack by the back
door where Charles had hooked them along with several others when
he returned from pulling her car into the barn along with his
truck. She dangled the keys from her finger for Tilda to see.
"I won't be running around the woods. I'll
stick to the roads. If Buddy comes across one, he'll probably stick
to it, too, and try to follow it back here."
"Wait!" Tilda raised her finger and hurried
to the bedroom off the kitchen, returning with an old purple
umbrella, the kind you didn't see any more with the deadly silver
point at its tip. "Just in case you have to get out of the car,"
she said, holding it out to Kat.
Kat took it as an offering of approval and
thanks for what she was doing, though the woman couldn't say it out
loud.
Without it, she would have been soaked by the
time she entered the barn, soaked and already shivering with cold.
She couldn't imagine what poor Buddy must be feeling. Hauling back
the doors on their screeching metal rollers, the first thing she
saw was a very sleek and very expensive Mercedes roadster and just
beyond it a metallic blue Tahoe. Kat couldn't imagine owning either
one and wondered which one Charles drove here and which one he kept
as a spare for weekend
snapped up. "You let him run?"
"I did," he nodded. "He said it had been a
while and he missed it, so I let him go."
Tilda looked ready to run out the door after
her wayward son and Kat could understand why. In the few hours
she'd known them, she'd already seen that the man had the mind of a
child and was actually older than Charles though he didn't look
it.
"He can't run, not alone. He gets distracted,
confused... lost."
"He'll be fine. He can't have gone far. I'll
call and he'll come," Charles said confidently.
"He won't," Tilda told him worriedly with a
sharp glance at Kat. "When he runs, he turns deaf. All he hears is
the wild. They'd get so mad at him, but he can't help it. The pull
is too strong, he doesn't hear."
"He'll hear me." Charles stripped his belt
from the loops of his spattered painter's pants. He crossed his
arms and gripped the hem of his shirt in that way men have of
stripping off their shirt and leaving it inside out. Arms stretched
above his head, he offered a perfect display of pectorals and
abs.
His chest was every bit as beautiful as Kat
imagined. Unprepared for her reaction, she sucked in her breath on
a wave of longing and had her arm outstretched to touch him
before she realized she'd moved. Disgusted with herself, she turned
the gesture into a comforting one and laid her hand on Tilda's
shoulder.
"I can look for him, too."
"No, you can't. I want you here, with Mrs.
Martin," Charles ordered.
"Yes, I can. I'm perfectly capable… "
The closing door told her what he thought of
that.
Being a mature adult, Kat wrinkled her nose
and stuck out her tongue at the back of the man striding away from
the door. "Asshole. I wonder if he orders everyone around like that
or just me."
"I imagine he's used to being obeyed," Tilda
observed vaguely.
She was watching through the window, eyes
squinting to see through the sheets of rain that beat against the
windows as the sky released its burden. Her thumb rubbed against
the tips of her fingers in a nervous gesture and her jaw was tight.
Even on such short acquaintance, Kat knew this woman wasn't one to
worry over trivial things. If she was concerned for Buddy's safety,
she had reason to be. A tear formed in the corner of the woman's
eye, just one tear, but it was enough for Kat to make up her
mind.
"I'm going out to look."
Poor Mrs. Martin looked truly alarmed. "You
can't. He said to stay here."
Kat grinned. "Ever hear the words you're not
the boss of me?"
"Don't claim to be, but the Al… Mr. Goodman,
he…"
"Isn't the boss of me either."
Technically he was, but at the moment Kat
didn't care. He was probably going to fire her anyway.
"You don't know these woods. You'll end up
lost, too."
Kat grabbed her keys off the rack by the back
door where Charles had hooked them along with several others when
he returned from pulling her car into the barn along with his
truck. She dangled the keys from her finger for Tilda to see.
"I won't be running around the woods. I'll
stick to the roads. If Buddy comes across one, he'll probably stick
to it, too, and try to follow it back here."
"Wait!" Tilda raised her finger and hurried
to the bedroom off the kitchen, returning with an old purple
umbrella, the kind you didn't see any more with the deadly silver
point at its tip. "Just in case you have to get out of the car,"
she said, holding it out to Kat.
Kat took it as an offering of approval and
thanks for what she was doing, though the woman couldn't say it out
loud.
Without it, she would have been soaked by the
time she entered the barn, soaked and already shivering with cold.
She couldn't imagine what poor Buddy must be feeling. Hauling back
the doors on their screeching metal rollers, the first thing she
saw was a very sleek and very expensive Mercedes roadster and just
beyond it a metallic blue Tahoe. Kat couldn't imagine owning either
one and wondered which one Charles drove here and which one he kept
as a spare for weekend
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