Alpha Husbands and Obedient Wives (Christian Domestic Discipline Romance): 3 Complete Series in 1 Read online

  Alpha Husbands and Obedient Wives

  Christian Domestic Discipline Romance

  Eden Greenwood

  ‘Alpha Husbands and Obedient Wives’ Copyright Eden Greenwood 2016

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Photo Copyright Max Leonhard Von Schaper

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  Link to License

  Marrying My Best Friend

  Ellie and Hunter

  More than Friends

  Her Spiritual Leader

  Guided By His Hand

  More than Friends

  I looked out from behind the tree to the old barn, breathless, and trying not to make a sound. Where had Hunter gone? He was just chasing me through the woods, and now seemed to have disappeared. If he caught me, he’d surely stab me with his sword no matter how much fire I blew. I squinted against the setting sun, waiting for him to appear. He ran up behind me, and I turned around with a start. He raised his sword, and I spread out my wings, letting out a horrendous growl.

  “Worry not, fair maiden. I’m here to save you from the dragon.” Hunter slipped the stick that he’d been using for a sword through his belt, then attempted to me pick me up over his shoulder.

  “No, no, no,” I said, swatting at his back. “I’m not the fair maiden. I’m the dragon.”

  Hunter gave up trying to lift me, and put me down with a groan. “I’m the knight, and I need a fair maiden to save.”

  “Why?” I asked, holding my hands up in confusion.

  Hunter took a moment to think about the question. “Because it’s my job.”

  I placed my fists on my hips and shook my head. “No, it’s not. I’m the dragon, and I don’t need saving.”

  Hunter swung his head down and scratched his head. While he was distracted, I took the opportunity and bolted away. A second later, Hunter was chasing after me, and gaining on me quickly. I laughed despite the fact I was running out of breath. I moved my feet as fast as I possibly could underneath me, trying to make it to the barn, which was base. I reached out to grab ahold of the barn door, but before I could, Hunter thrust his arms around my waist. We both went toppling to the ground. We lay next to each other on the grass, panting and laughing.

  “You win,” I said.

  I was tired from all the running, and day was finally cooling off as the sun set. It felt so good lying in the grass that I didn’t want to get up. Hunter stayed by my side. I plucked a dandelion and started pulling off the petals, letting them scatter in the wind. Hunter suddenly sat up on his elbow.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  I looked down and saw that my skirt had ridden up, revealing the dark purple bruises on my thighs.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, then flung the dandelion across the grass.

  Hunter curled his lips, breathing deeply. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, well, who else would it be?”

  Hunter shook his head from side to side. “I swear, if I was bigger-“ He stood up, withdrew the stick from his belt and thrust it against the barn door. It splintered into three pieces, and disappeared in the weeds.

  I shielded my eyes from the sun that was right in front of me, and gazed up at the clear blue sky. “I can’t wait until I’m big,” I said. “Then I’ll go far away from here and never see Daddy again.”

  Hunter walked up to my side. “I don’t want you to go far away from here.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I don’t either. I just wish he was dead.” I clamped my mouth closed, immediately regretting that I’d said that. Both of Hunter’s parents had died two years ago, and he was being raised my his grandma.

  Hunter picked up a piece of his stick and starting drawing circles in the dirt.

  “Ellie!” My mom’s voice carried across the field that separated Hunter’s house from mine.

  “I better go,” I grumbled.

  Hunter helped me to my feet. We did our secret handshake, then walked off in separate directions. Halfway across the field, I turned and looked after him. He was on the other side of the hill, and I couldn’t see him any more.

  We were eight years old, and the world seemed so big. I wished, for a moment, that the games we played were real, that I was a fair maiden, and Hunter a strong, noble knight. He could pluck me from my bedroom window and we’d ride off on his horse, happily ever after.

  *

  By the time we were in middle school, rumors circulated that Hunter and I were boyfriend and girlfriend. In response, we started hanging out together less at school, and it got to the point where we completely ignored each other. We passed each other silently in the hallway, and at lunch, sat with friends of our own gender.

  But everyday after school, we’d meet in the field between our houses. I’d run straight from the bus to the barn. Hunter would go home to check on his grandma, then go out to meet me. It was always a relief to be away from our classmates. Here, with Hunter, I could be my true self.

  “She forgot her blood pressure pills again,” Hunter said, plopping down beside me on the grass. “I laid them out this morning with her other pills, right next to a glass of orange juice. They were still there when I got home. She says she forgot.”

  Through the years, the relationship between Hunter and his grandma had shifted to where it seemed like he was one who took care of her. I didn’t know how to respond when he talked about medications and walkers and orthopedic shoes.

  Hunter swatted me. “How many times are you going to patch that dress?”

  I grabbed the mismatched patch sewn into my shirt and folded it under my hand. “The hole keeps getting bigger.”

  “Why don’t you just get a new one?” Hunter said.

  I laughed awkwardly, my cheeks stinging red. I’d asked Mama time and time again for a new dress, but she insisted on patching my old ones. I knew it was because we didn’t have enough money. We hadn’t had enough of anything since Daddy walked out on us.

  “All right, what have you got today?” Hunter said, digging in his pocket. “I have some gummy worms and a half bag of chips.”

  I clutched my knees in front of me. “I don’t have anything.”

  “Come on, stop holding out,” Hunter said. “What did you get for snack today?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Mama wouldn’t give me snack money this morning. Go ahead and eat it. You don’t have to share.”

  Hunter looked at the packages in his hand. He pulled out a sugar coated gummy worm and handed it to me. I smiled as I curled it into my mouth. We finished the pack until there was nothing but crystalized sugar collected in the bottom. I dragged my sticky hand on the ground, picking up a coating of dirt. Hunter did the same, and our fingers accidentally touched. Instead of pulling away, Hunter grabbed my pinky, and intertwined his fingers in mine. We stayed like that for about a second before we both pulled away from embarrassment.

  I didn’t know why my stomach tingled at Hunter’s touch. Perhaps that was my first indication that Hunter and I were destined to be more than friends.

  *

  I always thought Hunter and I would be friends forever, but I didn’t know how much people could change over the years. When we got to high school, our meetings in the field happened less and less. I had a new group of friends, and with them, discovered a wonderful thing called alcohol. It was magical to me that just after a few beers, I could forget about my past. My pain would be replaced by a warm, buzzing feeling. Suddenly, I was fun, carefree, not the girl who wore thrift store clothes to sc
hool and who’s mom was on welfare.

  Hunter also found other things to do after school. He was active in the Christian organizations, and even the president of one. He got to school early every morning to lead a prayer service.

  He also had a girlfriend.

  It was strange to see Hunter with another girl, especially in a romantic kind of way. At first, I couldn’t help being jealous, but I soon realized that I’d rather stay drunk than lay in the grass in the middle of a field.

  And I liked Ashley. She had a sweet, agreeable demeanor. I didn’t know much else about her, because she didn’t say much. She and Hunter seemed to get along very well, but something about their relationship struck me as odd. Hunter bossed her around, sometimes forcefully. The sweet, compassionate Hunter, who’d been my friend as long as I could remember, told his girlfriend what to wear, who she could talk to, and sometimes, what she could eat.

  I had boyfriends, but none of them lasted very long. It didn’t take me long to get tired of them, and then go looking to see what else was out there. When Hunter wasn’t lecturing me about my drinking, he was trying to set me up with guys from his church group.

  One Friday night, I met Hunter, Ashley, and Danny, Hunter’s current match for me, at a diner in town. Danny was cute, which was an improvement from the previous guys Hunter had tried to hook me up with. We greeted each other shyly, then tried to avoid each other’s gaze.

  “I’ll have a Coke,” Ashley told the waitress.

  “Wait,” Hunter said, making me cringe. “You had that soda today at lunch.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Ashley said. “Diet Coke.”

  “Water,” Hunter said, quietly.

  “Water,” Ashley repeated to the waitress.

  I studied Ashley, the way she smiled obliviously, and wondered, how could she put up with that? If I wanted a soda, I’d get the soda, and no boyfriend could tell me otherwise. I ordered a Coke, and then smiled smugly at Hunter.

  When our drinks arrived, I pulled out the flask I hid in my boot and poured a little whiskey into mine.

  “What’s that?” Hunter asked, sternly.

  “Liquor,” I said, shrugging. “Want some?”

  I held the flask out to Hunter, and he swatted it away.

  “You’re underage. It’s against the law,” Hunter said.

  I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. “Oh my God, lighten up.”

  Hunter took a deep breath. “And please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain around me.”

  I laughed and took a swig straight from my flask. “You mean your imaginary friend in the sky?”

  I saw the anger flush in Hunter’s face. He was obviously trying to restrain himself. “Can’t you have fun without alcohol for once?”

  The liquor was already making its way to my head. “I’m sorry, I’m not your girlfriend. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Hunter’s shocked look was exactly what I was trying to achieve. But when Ashley’s smile fell, I felt a bit guilty. Instead of apologizing for being rude, I did the immature thing and stood from the table.

  “Danny, it was nice meeting you,” I said. I rushed out of the diner, hoping I could get outside before I started crying.

  Hunter, as always, was right behind me.

  “Ellie, wait,” Hunter said as I flung open the door and walked out.

  I got a few steps into the parking lot before I turned around to face him. “What, Hunter?”

  His face was so soft and vulnerable, I wanted to cry. Instead, I hardened my resolve and glared at him.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this,” Hunter said. “But I’m worried about the path that you’re on.”

  I scoffed. “You don’t have to use your God talk on me. Why don’t you go boss your girlfriend around?” I still held the flask. I brought it to my lips and took a large swig out of spite.

  Hunter grabbed my wrist. I dropped the flask, and it clanked across the asphalt.

  “Maybe someone needs to get you under control,” Hunter said.

  I was feeling a little drunk, and seeing my flask on the ground angered me. “Who? Like you?”

  Hunter yanked me closer. With his tight grip around my wrist, I realized how strong he was, so much stronger than when we used to play knights and dragons in the field. His eyes were inches from mine. He gritted his teeth, breathing heavily. I felt an electric pull towards him, and as his face softened, I saw he felt it too. He looked, for a moment, like he was going to kiss me. And I was going to let him.

  “Hunter, is everything okay?” Ashley asked, suddenly appearing outside.

  “It’s fine,” Hunter said, letting go of my wrist.

  I took a ragged breath, slowly coming back to reality. “Um, sorry about that, Ashley.”

  “It’s okay,” Ashley said, but unlike usual, she wasn’t smiling.

  That was the last time Hunter tried to set me up on a date, and the last time I talked to him before our graduation day. I’d wanted to avoid him, but my mom made us pose together in our caps and gown. We stood there for ages while she took what seemed like hundreds of picture.

  “Okay, got it,” Mom said, finally.

  I gave Hunter an awkward smile, then tried to pull away from him. He held his arm tight to my waist.

  “What are you doing now?” Hunter asked.

  “I got a scholarship to Wingate,” I said, coolly.

  “Congratulations,” Hunter said, genuinely. “That’s a good school.”

  I shrugged. “Being poor has its perks.”

  Hunter laughed, making me break into smile. “I’m sure there was more to do with it than that.”

  I smiled, cryptically. He was right. I’d gotten a graphic design scholarship from the portfolio I’d submitted.

  “What about you?” I asked. “What are your plans?”

  “I’m going to Africa,” Hunter said.

  “I hear Africa’s lovely this time of year,” I quipped.

  “Not really,” Hunter said. “I hear it’s really hot, and the mosquitoes are as big as your hand. But I’m going there to do some good. The mission has a clean water initiative. You probably think it’s stupid.”

  “Clean water? That’s not stupid,” I said. I bit my lip and shuffled on my feet. “I know you’ll do a lot of good, Hunter. You were always meant to.”

  “Ashley’s waiting for me over there,” Hunter said. “Ellie, let’s make sure we don’t lose touch, okay? I always want you as my friend.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to keep the hot tears from falling out of my eyes. “Okay,” I said, in a tight voice.

  Okay.

  That was the last word I’d said to Hunter, to my friend, the one who’d comforted me during the hardest times of my life. We didn’t keep our promise to stay in touch. Hunter left for Africa that summer, and the following fall, I entered college.

  It was what I’d been waiting my whole life for, to get away from my sad past, to no longer be known as the poor girl in school. At Wingate, I had a new identity. I majored in graphic design, and made a host of artistic friends. I was exposed to philosophy, literature, political science. All of this knowledge was mine for the taking.

  With my newfound independence, I could’ve gotten drunk every night, come home late, and slept through class. But even though I didn’t talk to Hunter, I could hear him urging me to make better choices. I had my share of hangovers, and ungraceful moments in college bars, but I made sure to stay on top of my studies. I managed to graduate with honors.

  As I collected my diploma, I remembered the last time I’d spoken to Hunter. My mom snapped pictures of me after the ceremony, and for the first time in a long while, I wished Hunter was there.

  *

  I was exhausted on my way home that afternoon. As the packed bus swayed, I knew I could easily drift off to sleep. My phone went off in my purse, a sound that I had learned to dread. I had a new email from my supervisor. The client had rejected my design and wanted a revision. By tomorrow. That meant I would be up
all night working.

  I buried my face in my hands. All I did was work, it seemed. I’d gotten a job out of college as an entry level graphic designer at a marketing company. They paid me just enough to afford a one bedroom apartment close to the bad part of town, and as many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as I desired.

  They also worked me like a dog. Clients were granted unlimited revisions, which they used, and often abused. As the lowest member of the totem pole, that grunt work was left to me. The hours I worked and my paycheck every two weeks didn’t seem to add up. But when I started feeling sorry for myself, I reminded myself that my mother had had to survive and raise a child on much less.

  The phone in my hand buzzed again. It was another email, this time from my mom.

  Sad news, the subject line said.

  I clicked on the article she’d sent me. It was an obituary. Annabelle Ray. I mouthed the name as I read it.

  Hunter’s grandma.

  I clicked the phone off and shoved it in my purse.

  Later that night, as I was adjusting colors on a print ad for a dog grooming company, I opened the email again. I took deep breaths as I read the obituary.

  Annabelle Ray had died of cardiac arrest at her home. She was eighty-seven years old. I scanned through the list of survivors and found Hunter’s name. The service would be held at a church in my hometown this weekend.

  You have to go, a voice inside of me plead.

  I’d ignored the article Mom had sent me a couple of years ago announcing Ashley and Hunter’s engagement, but I couldn’t ignore this. Hunter’s grandmother was dead, the woman who’d raised him since he was a little boy. A sudden yearning bubbled up inside of my stomach. I needed to go to the funeral. I needed to be there for him.

  I texted Mom to let her know I was coming home for the funeral. She was so excited, there was no way I could back out. I rarely got to go home because of my crazy hours. Mom had done some renovations to her house, and had been begging me to come see it for months. The truth was, I dreaded going back to that house no matter how different it was.

  *

  “I’ve turned this closet into the laundry room,” Mom said. “No more washing clothes in the kitchen. And look.” She folded and unfolded the closet doors. “White pine. Isn’t it nice?”