Getting away with the Alpha's Pup

Chapter 23

Cherry

My gaze tracked over Dylan’s tall, muscular body. Dressed in black trousers and a dark blue shirt, he looked as gorgeous as I remembered. But my memories hadn’t prepared me fully for how arresting his rugged handsomeness was. I noticed his strong jaw and proud forehead were even more evident now that he wore his hair shorter.

In danger of staring at him too long, I was pleased I had something I needed to do. My dad had reminded me about the pack custom I’d forgotten: giving a gift to the new Alpha. It was customary on first seeing the new Alpha of the pack to bestow something homemade on him. When I’d arrived at my dad’s house, I’d been flustered at the thought of having nothing homemade other than the dresses I’d packed. None of which were exactly appropriate for Dylan.

But my dad had come to the rescue by giving me a bottle of his homemade wine. Something that was in the tote bag on the kitchen counter in front of me.

I stepped towards Dylan and gifted him the bottle. “For the new Alpha,” I said, lowering my gaze as was tradition, showing one’s respect towards the new Alpha of the pack.

When I looked up, Dylan’s dark eyes seared into me, and his voice was thick, “Thank you.”

Flustered at the feeling in his look and tone, I almost retorted that it was really from my dad. I stifled the urge to tell him I was only here because the pack’s rules demanded me to be.

Instead, feeling the need to draw attention away from me, I turned to the tall, willowy woman beside him. “And you must be Lucy? It’s so lovely to meet you. You’re as beautiful as I heard you were, and congratulations on your engagement. You’re a brilliant match for one another.”

A self-satisfied smile spread across Lucy’s face. Her arm curved possessively around Dylan’s. “Thank you.”

I noticed that Dylan’s expression darkened, but I feigned not noticing and returned to my seat, hoping to soon finish my tea and for Bert and me to retreat to the safety of his place.

But Chris opened another beer for Dylan and poured a glass of wine for Lucy, and we all toasted to the newlyweds. To my dismay, Heather reopened the subject about wedding clothes, and any hope I’d had of her idea being forgotten in the business leading up to tomorrow’s ceremony vanished.

“I just asked Cherry if she’d design your wedding clothes for the big day, and she said yes,” Heather informed the couple excitedly.

Lucy plastered a smile on her face while Dylan’s dark gaze found me again, managing to do things to my insides that I’d hoped would have passed after seven years apart. Doing my best not to catch his eye, I turned my attention back to my tea.

But Heather was in a get things done kind of mood. “Given that we’re all gonna be busy with the ceremony tomorrow,” she said, “perhaps the pair of you,” she looked at Dylan and Lucy, “could use my workroom upstairs so Cherry can take your measurements.” Her gaze flicked to me. “There’s a tape measure and mirror up there. Just give me a shout if you need anything else.”

“Sure,” I said a little too brightly, reluctantly leaving the others and trailing behind the happy couple upstairs.

Dylan showed Lucy and me into his mom’s workroom. Heather had always liked to dabble in various crafts while I’d known her as Luna. She’d made candles and jewelry, and I saw that her workroom still had an array of different equipment and materials tidily ordered in drawers and mounted on the wall.

Dylan found the tape measure, and I rummaged through a drawer for a notepad and pencil. I tried to pretend that Lucy was just another of my clients visiting the store.

Focusing on getting what I needed to complete the job, I went into designer mode. “Let’s start with the bride, shall we?”

I asked Lucy to take off her heels, and she obliged before observing condescendingly, “By Nuu-Chah, you really are tiny, Cherry.” My head only came up to her chin.

But I replied unruffled, “I take after my mom. She was as petite as me.”

Then, I went through the motions, carefully measuring and jotting down the numbers. I asked Lucy.

“Have you thought about styles you might like? If you’ve got any bridal magazines, feel free to send me examples you like. I’ll look at incorporating them into the design.”

Lucy sighed. “I really wanted Razael or Shoffenhoffer to design my dress, but I’m pleased you’re designing it because it makes Heather happy.”

I fought down the anger that bubbled up at her passive-aggressive comments. Besides, I knew two very successful couture designers, and they only worked with the very rich and famous. I’d met Shoffenhoffer at a fashion show in Paris and had drinks with him, but I didn’t bother telling Lucy that.

Dylan’s low voice cut through the awkward moment. “I’m honored that you’d even consider designing for us, Cherry. I know how talented you are. Didn’t you win the MUSE award?”

My eyes flew to Dylan, whose scowl at Lucy told me he was offended by his fiancé’s comment. Finally, I managed to nod and get my mouth working. “Yes, that’s right.”

My emotions felt jumbled as I registered that Dylan had kept up to date with my work. At least enough to know that I was an award-winning designer. Awkwardness tumbled through me as I observed, too, that he had protected me from his mate.

I was almost done with Lucy’s measurements and just had to take the length of her instep when she stepped on my hand as I stooped down.

I bit back my complaint, eager to get this over with.

Lucy exclaimed, “Lord, sorry, Cherry. I find it hard to stay still. You see, I’m always doing something, aren’t I, Dylan?”

Lucy turned around, mucking up the measurement of her instep yet again as she chided, “Dylan, are you listening?”

Dylan made a non-committal noise from where he sat watching us… or me, I sensed. I couldn’t be sure as I kept my eyes firmly glued to my work, but I felt as if his eyes were on me.