Free Cracked by Vanessa North Page B

she’d never have to worry about getting paint or turpentine on one of your thousand-dollar suits.”
    He recognized the mocking in her voice. Only Monica would ever tease him about his astronomically priced wardrobe. It wasn’t about the luxury—it was about the message it sent. “Please. I wear five-thousand-dollar suits now.” He winked, sending her into a fit of giggles. “I know you’re only half teasing, but I’ve gotten used to my city lifestyle. I don’t know if it’s fair to ask her to share it, but I don’t want to give it up.”
    “Have you talked to her about it at all?” Monica’s concern was clear in her face. She cared a great deal for her niece, that was plain to see.
    “I don’t know how to begin.” He hung his head. “I was hoping you could help me.”
    “Angelo…” Monica sat up, taking his hand in hers. “I can’t do this for you. You have to talk to Sarita. The two of you can reach an agreement. Have a little faith.”
    “I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I don’t want to imply that she’s not enough for me.” He felt a momentary panic wash over him.
    Monica made a shushing sound and enfolded him in a hug. Dimly, Angelo was aware that the elevator had chimed and whoever had been sent up as the sentry/bodyguard for the day walked into the room as they were pulling apart. When Angelo heard the gasp and the glass shattering, felt the wrench of pain through his bond to Sarita, he realized he’d just made a huge mistake.

    Sarita and Mac got off the elevator together. He held open the door to the apartment so she wouldn’t drop the bowl. She’d arranged to have it picked up by courier with Monica’s outgoing mail. She was surprised to hear Angelo’s voice, and at first, the words didn’t register.
    “… she’s not enough for me.”
    Her eyes tried to match the words she heard to the sight in front of her and the knife-sharp pain in her gut. No .
    She looked from her mate to her aunt, embracing: her, barefoot, him, without a tie, and she felt a wave of nausea roll through her. Clapping her hands over her mouth, she forgot the bowl, heard it shatter, but couldn’t make that matter to her.
    She wasn’t enough. He’d said it…to Monica.
    Of course, after having a national Alpha in his bed, how could little Ita Murphy be enough for him?
    She fled. As soon as she was outside, her clothing disappeared into tatters, and she ran, letting grief and pain fuel her muscles, the staccato rhythm of that Xicano accent that had already become so dear to her ringing in her ears. Not enough . Not enough .
    She heard another wolf behind her, closing in quickly. She couldn’t even have her grief to herself because she was too slow. She spun and dropped to a crouch, teeth bared.
    Mac.
    Ita—
    Mac took a defensive posture. What you saw is not what you think you saw.
    She shifted, taking human form again, and Mac followed.
    “So I didn’t just hear him tell his lover, who just happens to be the baddest ass Were on the planet, that I’m not enough for him?”
    “I don’t know what they were talking about. I do know that my mom is definitely not fucking Angelo. C’mon, Ita, they were lovers before you were born. You can’t hold that against them.”
    “I don’t hold the past against him. It’s the here-and-now that I have a problem with—him in a state of undress in her arms!” Sarita growled.
    “State of undress? The man was wearing a fucking suit.”
    “He wasn’t wearing a tie. He always wears a tie.” Sarita was starting to feel irrational, which only added fuel to her anger. “And she was barefoot, only had one earring in, her blouse had Monday buttoned with Tuesday, and she reeked of sex.”
    “Oh, give it up, Sarita. This is lame. My mom and dad sent me out for coffee when I showed up this morning and locked the door behind me. If my mom smells like sex, and um, ew, can we just not go there please?”
    “She was hugging up on my mate, who apparently doesn’t think