Chosen By My Mate's Father-in-law novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Thanks For The Kiss

‘You’re Elliot’s ex-mate.’

The words echoed in my head, over and over again. Gareth’s eyes didn’t leave mine. His expression was unreadable. There was no gloating, no satisfaction in catching me off guard. Just... quiet calculation.

Then, slowly, the corners of his mouth pulled into a knowing smirk.

“You just did,” he said.

I blinked. My stomach dropped. My body had gone cold, but my cheeks burned.

He hadn’t known. He’d guessed—and I walked right into it.

A small, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I looked down, shaking my head.

“Right. Of course, I did.”

There was a long silence between us. I could feel the weight of his suspicion pressing down on me like a stone.

“I don’t trust you.” He said, raising his brow.

“I’m not here to cause problems,” I said finally, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “I just... I needed to come. I needed to see it with my own eyes. That it’s real. That it’s over.”

He said nothing, just watched me.

“I’m not here to ruin their engagement,” I added quietly. “Or the wedding. I’m not that pathetic.”

Still nothing. Not a flicker of emotion on his face. Was he judging me? Pitying me?

I took a breath. “You should know it’s possible to move on from a broken mate bond.”

That got a reaction. His lips curled slightly—just barely, like the idea amused him. He looked me over, slow and thoughtful like he was deciding whether I meant it or if I was just playing some game.

Then, at last, he gave a short nod. “Fair enough.”

I didn’t know if he believed me, or if he just didn’t care anymore.

“Go change,” he said, voice low. “There’s a robe in the bathroom. Your dress is a mess.”

I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. For a moment, I just stood there, trying to breathe. The wine stain on my dress looked like blood. Ugly. Loud. Unsuitable. The same way I was unworthy of a place in Elliot’s perfect life.

I undressed slowly, like I was shedding something more than just fabric. The past few hours. The years before that. All of it.

The silk robe hanging behind the door was soft, black, and probably more expensive than everything I owned. I slipped into it. It smelled like him—cedarwood and something darker. Masculine. Powerful. I inhaled deeply, letting the scent settle inside me. It made my head spin.

When I stepped out, Gareth was at the bar, pouring something amber into a fresh glass. His jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked calm, but there was a dangerous edge to him—too composed, too still.

My pulse skipped.

He held out the drink. “Figured you could use something stronger than water.”

I took it, our fingers brushing. Just a second. Just skin. But it lit something in me. Heat curled low in my belly. I tried not to react, but I could feel it building between us.

His eyes lingered on me. He felt it too. I swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t smell my arousal.

Neither of us said anything. The air was thick. Heavily charged.

Gareth watched me over his glass, his gaze unreadable. The drink slid down my throat, warm and smooth, but nothing compared to the heat burning under my skin.

Then he set the glass down. “What are you planning to do now?”

I hesitated. It was a simple question. I should’ve said something about Delta training, about surviving, about pushing through like I always did.

But I didn’t want to think that far ahead. I walked to the window, brushing the curtain aside, watching the city lights shimmer below.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I know what I want tonight.”

Behind me, I felt him move closer. The space between us shrank, the tension climbing.

“And what’s that?” he asked, voice rough. I turned slowly. My heart was pounding.

“To stop feeling like I’m not enough. To forget Elliot.”

His expression changed. Eyes darkened, jaw tight. Something in him shifted.

And I knew he wanted the same thing.

“And you think I’m the right man to help you forget?” he said, a slow, dangerous smile curving his lips.

I stepped closer, bold and reckless. “You offered the drink, didn’t you? Might as well go all in.”

His brow lifted slightly, intrigued. “You’re bold.”

“Not usually,” I admitted. “But I’ve already been burned, Gareth. What else is there to fear?”

That struck something in him. His posture changed, his gaze sharpened. His eyes turned darker—black. His wolf had surfaced.

He stepped in, heat radiating off him. Then his hand reached out, fingers gliding along my jaw and down my neck. His touch sent sparks down my spine. I groaned and leaned into him.

“You want to use me,” he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek.

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