The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)

“Sure,” she says, pausing a moment. “I’ll go do that and be right back.”


“Thank you,” I mutter, keeping my head down, pretending to dig in the bag, for what, I don’t know. I hear the door close behind me and finally lift my eyes to stare at myself in the mirror.

“Snap out of it, Reina,” I hiss to my reflection. “Everything will be fine. Nothing will stand in the way of you marrying the love of your life.”

Please God, let it be true.





“Bulldog, looking sharp,” Nikki Pastore greets, working her way in-between the band of brothers surrounding me.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite Pastore,” I grin, taking her and pulling her into a hug.

“It’s Valente now,” she corrects, returning the embrace.

I had a soft spot for Vic’s youngest daughter, took a liking to her the moment she and Mike jumped into my truck and she robbed my cigarettes.

Pulling back, I avert my eyes back and forth between her and her new husband. Mike Valente, dressed in black dress pants, a white V-neck t-shirt and a sports jacket that matched the tailored pants. Taking another look at Nikki, I notice she matched his attire with a black and white dress. They were the perfect fucking couple, made me real proud to have a hand in saving their asses.

“You two get hitched and didn’t tell anyone?”

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Mike replies.

“We got married in prison in front of my father. We went to the courthouse yesterday to get our marriage certificate.”

“Bet you made your old man the happiest he’s been in a long time.” I wink at her. “How’s your mom doing?”

“She’s okay, hanging in there,” Nikki sighs, before smiling sadly. “Sits by the phone day and night.”

“Dad!”

I peel my eyes away from the newlyweds and turn to face my daughter.

“Hi everyone.” She waves before grabbing a hold of my arm. “Excuse us one minute,” she adds, dragging me off to the side.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Reina,” she huffs. My face must have dropped because she quickly adds that she was fine physically. “I think she has a case of wedding jitters—” I didn’t wait for Lacey to finish explaining. Leaving her in the common room with the guests I start for the stairs, superstitions be damned. Climbing the stairs two at a time I reach the door to my room and pushed it open.

“Sunshine?” I call, stepping inside the room, my eyes falling upon the wedding gown lying across my bed causing me to freeze in my tracks and imagine what she’s going to look like in it. Fucking beautiful. Stunning.

The bathroom door slams shut pulling me out of my trance.

“Jack! You can’t be in here. It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.”

I walk to the door, leaning my forehead and splaying my palm against the wooden door I drink in her scent.

“Reina, what’s going on?” I question.

“Nothing, I’m getting dressed,” she answers in a high pitched tone.

“Open the door, Sunshine,” I coax. “I promise to keep my eyes closed, I want to feel you, touch you…”

“It’s not locked,” she whispers behind the door.

I turn the knob, closing my eyes as I promised and open the door.

“Where are you?” I ask, holding my hand out as I keep my eyes closed. She fits her hand into mine and I take a few steps further into the bathroom.

“Turn around,” I demand. “I want you facing the mirror.”

It wasn’t that long ago we stood in this very position. It was the night I claimed her to my club, the night I confessed all my sins to her and the night she gave me her scars. It was an act of self-control, keeping my eyes straight toward the mirror, not allowing them to travel across the body I worshiped as she undressed for me and exposed me to her secrets. I remember thinking she ruined me, then realized all she did was fix me and how badly I wanted to fix her.

Like now, whatever is bothering her, I want to fix.

“Are you facing the mirror, Sunshine?”

“Yes,” her voice cracks with the simple word.

My hands roamed the air searching for her. Finding her I drop them to her shoulders as I stand behind her.

“What do you see when you look in the mirror?” I probe, my voice husky against her ear.

“I see you,” she whispers. “I see me.”

“You and me.”

“Us.”

“Look lower,” I command gently, pressing my lips to her ear as I glide my hands down her sides and wrap them around her, splaying both hands against her bump. “Now what do you see?”

“I see love,” she whispers. “I see so much love.”

“What else?”