True to his word, Blake called Carly the following day. She waited in nervous anticipation, longing for the phone call, yet dreading it would come. Several times, she considered phoning him just to get it over with, but in the end she waited. It wasn't until late in the evening the phone call finally came.
They chatted easily for a long while, sharing the inconsequential details of the day. Finally, Blake returned to yesterday's conversation, as threatened.
"Have you figured out what you're afraid of?" he asked when there was a lull in conversation.
Carly huffed and closed her eyes, wishing they could continue to ignore this particular topic. In the end, she decided to answer his question, knowing he would continue to force the issue otherwise. "You're fancy suits and first class travel, and I'm comfortably middle class."
"I'm not just fancy suits, but it certainly helps with business matters and I do have a reputation to maintain," he replied. "And as for first class travel? I run a company that specializes in outfitting and adventures. I'm more at home in a kayak or on a bike, than I am stuffed into an airplane. I enjoy the finer things in life, but the wilderness speaks to my soul." In more ways than he was willing to share, just yet.
There was amusement in his tone, and it made Carly bristle. "You are three and a half hours away, and I have small children now."
"It may be a bit far, but I'm willing to make the drive if you're not. And if you work in a high school, finding someone to babysit can't be that difficult. I'm sure you can wrangle a responsible teenager or two," he countered, deciding not to mention just how well the boys responded to his presence. That would be a fight for another time.
"You walk into a situation and take charge, and all but order me around. I let you get away with changing my ticket in the airport, I let you talk me into a date, and then I let you change those plans. I didn't argue, and I should have."
"I take charge, because that is who I am. I couldn't do my job if I let others push me around. I am used to dealing with situations, assessing them, and making decisions. Maybe the plane tickets was a bit underhanded," he conceded, "but I wanted to get to know you, I was drawn to you from the beginning. You let me talk you into the date because you wanted it, and you let me change the plans because you were in no state to leave your home, and you knew it."
"I take comfort in my routine, and I don't want my life to change. I don't want someone telling me what to do, and I don't want to be the type of woman who is controlled by a man," Carly protested, almost desperately.
"You don't want your life to change, but that's what life is. You know that, right? Besides, you can't help it now, not with the children, not with me. Sure, you accede to reason and desire on occasion, but you are no man's puppet. I doubt you would have even answered the phone if you really thought I was controlling you," Blake briefly considered how he would like to control her, in the bedroom, though, and not the rest of her life. His thoughts wanted to continue down that particular path.
Instead, he listened carefully to each of her protests, and then skillfully rebutted every argument. One by one, he hunted down her insecurities, using logic and reasoning to lay them to rest. He was a patient hunter, and knew that logic ordered her soul. The call lasted long into the night, until Carly finally gave in.
"Fine," she said, rather grumpily. "I will acknowledge that there is something worth exploring between us, something that will bring mutual happiness, at least for a time. You will be arrogant and domineering, and I will be stubborn and resist you. It is who we are."
Blake laughed at her grudging capitulation. It was the opening he was looking for. "I shall be at your door at six o'clock Saturday night," he informed her, almost daring her to argue. "Hire a sitter, and dress to impress. I have reservations at La Belle Vie."
"A last minute babysitter and reservations at the most pretentious restaurant in Minneapolis? I don't think so," she scoffed with more amusement than anger. Without another word, she disconnected the call.
*****
Friday night found Emile sitting in Carly's living room, glass of wine in hand, listening to her friend agonize about Blake and how he had practically ordered her to join him for a dinner at one of the swankiest restaurants, and how she had absolutely nothing appropriate to wear. Emile sympathized, knowing well the game the Alpha was playing. He was slowly overcoming her defenses, chasing her. It was how she had felt all those years Jack patiently chased her. The thought struck a chord. Suddenly, she couldn't think. She heard Carly talking, but she wasn't listening.
Jack. He had chased her.
Suddenly, Emile knew she didn't want to be here. She wanted to be far to the north, with Jack. It went beyond mere want, and was more akin to unchecked need. As if something unlocked deep in her mind, and she knew. She knew what Jack had meant as he kissed her senseless that first time, when he had claimed she was his. Knew what he and her wolf wouldn't explain. She knew, with every shred of her being that Jack belonged to her. She had loved deeply and lost terribly, and the world stopped spinning. But it hasn't, not really. Jack was there, had always been there, had never given up on her, would never give up on her. Jack had claimed her, called her his. Her wolf had known, had probably always known. Her wolf, so willing to submit. Jacob was her past love, Jack could very well be her future. Jack had been chasing her for years, and she hadn't figured it out. Now it was startlingly clear. Jack had chased her, and part of her wanted to be caught.
"I'm sorry," she apologized as she almost jumped to her feet, unable to be separated from Jack any longer. "I've got to go!" She laughed in delight, knowing to her very core she was making the right decision.
"Where are you going?" Carly asked, confused. She had been hoping Emile would to tell her what to do, hoping her friend would give her permission to cancel the date.
"Oh," She said laughing at her private joke, "I've got to see a man about a dog!" She was out the door before Carly could say anything else.
Emile raced through her home, grabbing a small suitcase and filling it with clothes and toiletries. She regretted not having any lingerie, knowing exactly how she was planning on spending her weekend. She didn't bother calling even though it was late, knowing that Jack would be waiting for her, whether she showed up or not. He had said as much.
