“Won’t my joining a club like that look bad for you?”
His mother shrugged. “It’s not a well-known establishment, so I doubt it will ever be an issue. Even if it is, it would be worth it to have something to hold over Grossmann’s head.”
“I don’t know, Mom. This sounds—”
“Like a perfectly reasonable request,” his mother interrupted. “And unless you want me to take your new toy away from you, you’ll do as I ask.”
Carver clenched his jaw and looked away. As his pack alpha, his mother had every right to take Peter away from him if she deemed it to be in his best interest. He could challenge her decision in front of the regional alpha council, but he doubted they’d side against one of their own over something like this.
“So, I’m a bad person for buying him, but it’s just fine for you to use him for your own ends?” Carver asked, angry at his mother’s hypocrisy.
“I don’t care to be spoken to like that, Carver. Apologize.”
Carver took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
He was still furious.
“I’ve read Peter’s profile. I’m not asking you to do anything that won’t come naturally to either of you.”
Carver flushed, his hands clenching in embarrassment at what his mother’s words revealed that she knew about him.
“I should get going. We can do lunch another time.” Carver’s mother rose from her chair, taking her purse and sliding it up to her shoulder. “I need that tape by the end of the year. Make it happen, Carver.” When Carver didn’t answer, her tone sharpened. “Carver.”
“I will,” Carver promised.
His mother studied him intently for a few seconds, making him squirm, but then she turned on her heel and walked away.
Carver watched her go, furious, wondering how the hell he was supposed to explain this to Tex and Peter.
12
Peter
“Okay, I think that’s enough. I need to go home and get changed for work.”
Peter let out a breath of relief. He and Tex had been shopping for five hours, and it was excruciating. Tex made him try on outfit after outfit, pawing at him and adjusting the clothes as though anything but a perfect fit was going to get them both shot.
Who cared? They were just clothes. As long as his jeans didn’t fall down and his shirts mostly fit, did it really matter?
To Tex, apparently, it did.
“Finally,” Peter mumbled, earning a sharp look from Tex. The werewolf had found Peter’s disinterest funny at first, but as the hours wore on, he’d been less than pleased with Peter’s total apathy.
“We’ll have to save suits and formalwear for another day,” Tex said, ignoring Peter’s comment.
They left the mall with enough clothes to last Peter a month without having to do laundry, and even though it had been a hassle, Peter also had to admit to himself that it had been nice to get to know Tex a little better.
They made their way to the car, the cold fall air making Peter’s skin prickle. He had a new coat somewhere in one of the bags Tex was putting away in the trunk, but he hadn’t bothered digging it out just for the trip to the car. Still, it was a relief to get into the passenger front seat and turn on the seat warmer.
Within seconds Peter’s behind was nice and toasty. He pushed his fingers under his thighs so that they, too, could enjoy the warmth.
“When will I need suits?” Peter asked, the implications of Tex’s earlier comment registering for the first time. He wasn’t allowed to get a job, and unless Carver and Tex had a fetish for playing dress-up, Peter couldn’t see a reason he’d need anything fancy in his closet.
Tex rolled his eyes, his expression half exasperated and half fond. He glanced at Peter with a smile, explaining.
“Carver’s firm has a lot of parties and charity events where mates and spouses are expected to attend. I hate them, but somehow Carver manages to guilt me into going pretty much every time. If it weren’t for the free booze, they would be insufferable.”
Peter looked at Tex, wondering why booze would matter to a werewolf. It wasn’t like he could get drunk, could he?
