Mated By Fate by Christa Wick
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leaving the hall,Denver drove the long way around to Jack Cooper's.
He had no business with the old man, but Coop hadn't fostered out Oscar. Considering the way Angelica, Coop's mate, looked at the cub, Denver wasn't too sure the little boy would leave the old man's hearth.
The boy's growing attachment to Angelica was the only thing that had kept Denver from separating Jack's head from the rest of his body when the old wolf started going on about forcing Esme to take a new blood oath or leave the clan. That and the last shred of sense that had forced Coop to back down and pretend to see reason.
Truth was, the old man hadn't changed his mind—his time as clan alpha was over and he knew it. Another season and one of the pack leaders would ease him aside.
Pulling up behind Coop's house, Denver buried the thought. He didn't care who the next clan leader would be so long as the new top dog stayed out of his face and Esme's.
Opening the door to his truck, he heard the back screen slam, followed by the sound of small racing feet hitting the rocky ground at a furious pace. Shutting the truck's door with a smile, Denver braced for impact.
"Denver!" Oscar launched off the ground, hitting Denver in the center of his chest and wrapping his arms and legs around the big man. "I haven't seen you in three days!"
"Two," Denver corrected, shifting Oscar's weight to one hip as he reached through the truck's window and pulled out a backpack.
"Three," Oscar insisted, holding up two fingers.
Laughing, Denver pushed another of the boy's stubby fingers up. "That's three, little man."
"Hmmmph!" Oscar crossed his arms across his small chest and glared at Denver.
"Sorry, buddy, I don't make the math rules."
Oscar’s frown quickly dissolved, however, when he took notice of the flash of red metal poking conspicuously from beneath the backpack's flap.
Curious, the wide-eyed boy fingered one of the straps. "For me?"
Trying to keep his voice neutral, Denver lifted a thoughtful brow and teased gently, "Are there any other cubs here?"
Oscar shook his head adamantly, a shy but excited smile lighting his face as he pointed at his chest for emphasis. "Just me."
"Well then, I guess it’s for you.” Denver put the boy down on a patch of grass and sank to his knees. Hiding the bag to one side and peeking beneath the flap, he drew out the suspense until Oscar was almost giddy.
"Okay, cub, settle down."
Reaching inside the box, Denver pulled out a die-cast fire truck.
The boy’s reaction was deafeningly adorable. When he was done squealing and clapping and bouncing up and down with elation, Denver forced him to stand still long enough to put the truck in his small hands.
Angelica chose that moment to open the screen door. "You've got ten minutes to play before you take your bath and get suited up for the baby shower, young man.”
Oscar toed a fat pebble, his mouth collapsing into a pout. "Do I have to?"
Angelica nodded, an indulgent smile hiding behind her raised hand. "You like Miss Lana, don't you?"
Oscar gave a grudging nod, his small mouth corkscrewing with indecision.
"And you want to play with her baby when he's born, don't you?"
Another nod, more confident than the first.
Angelica simply stood there and let him come to his decision on his own.
Finally, nodding as if internally coming to terms with this monumentally difficult choice, he held up one counting finger as if to punctuate the terms of their deal. "Ten whole minutes starting right now?"
"Not a second less," Angelica agreed, smothering back a laugh before she returned to the kitchen, where Denver watched through the window as she set the oven timer for fifteen minutes.
This. This is what Esme had told him she’d wanted above all else, all those years ago.
The memory of that held a whole new meaning for him now.
