Finding Forgiveness

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ask me about them?”

Ben winced. “Honestly? I couldn’t allow myself to get that close.” He perched on the other bed, the one Dave had been planning on sleeping in. Charlie had wanted the bed by the sliding glass doors so she could see the fireworks over the castle. “My mother didn’t fight him. She loved him too much, and he beat on her too.” Ben shook his head. “I think the old Alpha just didn’t want to see what was right in front of his face. If he had, he would have been forced to Outcast my dad and deal with what came next. Odds are good Dad would have forced Mom and me to go with him.” He shook his head. “I’ve watched someone I was supposed to love destroy everyone around him because of alcohol.” Ben clasped his hands between his knees and gazed right into Dave’s face, hiding nothing. “I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t let myself become my mother.”

Ouch. That hurt, but he could almost understand where Ben was coming from. He’d had a twisted childhood, and that was going to do things to his perspective. Now all Dave had to do was decide if he forgave him or not.

Dave narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d do anything if I would just forgive you.”

Charlie chuckled. She knew what was coming. Hell, she’d helped him design the damned thing. “The shirt?”

“Oh yeah.” And if Ben wore it, he’d get his wish. Dave would do his best to forgive Ben for being a prick. Hell, he was halfway there just from hearing about Ben’s childhood.

Then again, if Ben put it on he’d know this was nothing more than a dream. Real Life Ben’s pride would never allow him to wear a shirt like that, let alone in public.

Ben looked like he’d just stuck his arm in a dark hole and had no clue if he was about to grab a handful of honey or bees. “What shirt?”

Dave handed him the bag containing the shirt and waited.

Chapter Seven

Dave was grinning like a loon as they entered The Brown Derby, but something seemed off. He still seemed…wistful, somehow, especially when his gaze landed on the shirt Ben wore. “You said anything.”

Ben’s jaw was permanently clenched. He’d been stared at, pointed at, and laughed at everywhere they went. But fuck it if he was taking this shirt off. He’d said anything, and if abject humiliation was the only way to win Dave over then damn it, he’d do it.

Unless it involved clown noses. Then all bets were off.

“C’mon. It matches your eyes.”

The fact that Dave’s hand was cupping his butt did not mitigate the fact that Dave was also laughing his own ass off.

“Where the hell did you find this thing?” Ben gave their names to the maitre d’ and studiously ignored the smile trying to break out all over the man’s face. He’d made the reservations from Dave’s room, glad to get a table on such short notice.

Now he was wondering if they would have been better off with room service.

“I had it made.” Dave caressed the brown cotton. Ben damn near shivered at the feel of his mate’s hand on him, stroking down his back. “You like it?”

“I love it,” he gritted out. At this rate he’d not only get his mate but a huge dental bill as well.

Dave huffed a laugh as they followed the maitre d’. “Good. Then you’ll wear it at the next staff meeting.” Dave batted his lashes at him, daring him to go there.

God. There was no way in hell Ben was wearing a dark chocolate brown T-shirt with the words Trophy Wife stenciled on it in bright yellow letters at the next Pack meeting. “Sure thing, honey.” In your dreams, maybe.

Dave held out Ben’s chair, and Ben almost snapped his head off. “I’ll make sure it makes it home safe and sound, then.”

Ben took his seat, the low growl dying to break free. He gritted his teeth and held it back through sheer willpower. A family of four was seated right next to them. Don’t scare the straights, Ben. “I think I can take care of that.”

Dave’s brows rose like he knew exactly what Ben was thinking of doing with the shirt before it ever hit the Poconos. “Florida has really small pipes,” he muttered, confirming Ben’s thought. “I wouldn’t try flushing it down the toilet if I were you.”

Ben sniffed. The scent of his mate surrounded him, soothing his wolf even as it made his cock sit up and take notice. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Dave picked up the menu, but not before Ben caught the big man’s shoulders shaking. Ben rolled his eyes and picked up his own menu.

He was so flushing this shirt.

After they ordered, Dave left the table to hit the men’s room. Ben sat back with a smile. So far, so good. Dave knew now why Ben had acted the way he had, rejecting him when he had no real reason to. Better yet, he was on the way to forgiving Ben.

Things were looking up.

Ben breathed in deep, happy to have his mate with him. The scent of Dave surrounded him, and his head whipped around, eager for the sight of the man walking towards him.

No Dave. No sign of him anywhere.

Ben sniffed again. Dave’s scent was strong, mingling subtly with his own. His eyes darted around the restaurant, a frown forming on his face. What the fuck?

Then it hit him. The shirt. The damn fucking shirt Dave had given him. Ben lifted the hem and sniffed.

Dave’s scent filled him, poured through him. If he’d been a cat he would have been purring. As it was he had the urge to rub that scent into his skin until it never came off.

Ben dropped the hem of the shirt and tried to figure out why Dave’s scent was so strong on it. Had Dave worn it? It didn’t have the feel of a shirt that had been worn often enough to pick up the owner’s scent. If anything, the butter-soft cotton felt brand new. So how had it gotten there?

Dave was winding his way back to him through the tables, a smile on his handsome face. Ben, for the first time in years, allowed himself the luxury of studying his mate. Those amber eyes were as huge as they’d been when he’d been a gangly teenager, dominating a stunning face that could have graced magazine covers. The light brown hair had never quite been tamed, the bangs falling into those gorgeous eyes, the ends brushing the collar of his T-shirt. And damn if he hadn’t grown into those hands. The guy was simply huge. The only man Ben had ever met who was bigger than Dave was Rick, and the Alpha was scary huge. The Luna was the only one who could look at Rick and think “cuddly”.

Ben fingered the edge of his T-shirt and stared at Dave’s chest. There was no way Dave could wear Ben’s new shirt without stretching it or ripping it.

The shirt fit Ben like a glove.

Dave sat. “Food here yet?” His eyes flickered to the shirt, a strange satisfaction in his gaze.

“You slept with it, didn’t you?” Dave’s eyes flew to his. The self-conscious panic on his face told Ben he was dead right. “That’s why your scent is so strong.” Ben couldn’t stop stroking the hem of his shirt. Every time he did, Dave’s scent wafted up to his nose.

“Oh, look, the drinks came.” Dave took a huge gulp of his soda and damn near choked.

Ben couldn’t stop the smile that came, watching his mate try not to die on soda bubbles. Dave said he’d had the shirt made. He wondered how long ago he’d done it.

How long had he held on to hope?

Shit. Looks like I’ve got a new shirt to wear to the next Pack meeting.

Ben picked up his own soda and took a swig. He couldn’t wait to get home and show off his new shirt. “So.