The Alpha King's Mistress Chapter 38: Canvas Cove

As the sun started to dip, I headed to the pack center with one goal: finding the shop Jake mentioned on his business card. I needed to continue my painting agenda to keep my mind off Samantha and Nicholas for a moment. Enough drama for today. I also used the time to ask for vacancies or job offerings. Luckily, I was able to find one. It was a flower shop owned by old couples.

“Canvas Cove,” I muttered, looking around.

The place was a beehive of activity, shops bustling with life. I clutched Jake's card and scoured the center, dead set on locating the shop he had mentioned. Upon spotting the shop, I swiftly parked my car. In the corner of my eyes, judgmental gazes followed me.

“She is the current mistress of the Alpha right?”

“I heard she was rude”

“But she was gorgeous”

The murmurs of recognition and disparaging comments about my status as a Mistress brushed against me like an unwelcome breeze. I just sighed, ignoring all of it. It's not like I can slap each one of them.

Entering the shop, I felt the curious gazes from the people inside, murmuring about me. I ignored the whispers and focused on finding the perfect paint for my bedroom – deep emerald to lighter shades.

“Hey!” someone called.

I turned around and saw Jake. I was taken aback but glad for the friendly face. He was casual, wearing jeans and a gray hoodie that screamed 'laid-back guy'. His dimples showed as he smiled my way.

"Hey, Jake," I greeted him, trying to keep it cool despite the nosy whispers around us. The whispers mostly talk about me being that rude mistress. "I've been hunting for a specific color, but it looks like other stores don't have it. Figured I'd give this place a shot."

“Well, let’s see your luck. What color do you need?”

“Um…I need a deep shade of emerald then some light shades of it. Do you have those colors?” I asked, crossing my fingers.

“Of course” he chuckled, “It's this way”

He motioned for me to follow as he led the way toward a storage area tucked behind the shop's main area. Stepping into the storage space, I saw rows of neatly arranged cans, each containing an array of different colors.

"Here we go," Jake said cheerfully, pulling out the exact shade I was after from among the neatly stacked cans. He handed it to me. I thanked him and took the can, relieved to find the perfect color.

"Thanks a bunch, Jake," I said, clutching the paint can. "This color is exactly what I needed."

"Glad I could help. If you need anything else, feel free to drop by anytime"

"I definitely will. Thanks again," I replied gratefully before making my way towards the counter to complete the purchase.

But Jake gently held my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I looked at him expectantly.

“You don't need to pay for it”

I hesitated, my brow furrowing in confusion, "Why? Of course, I should pay for it”

"You can pay later. Since the paint you chose is a bit challenging to apply, I'll help you with the painting first. Once it's done, then you can pay me."

“But still…”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he said, winking at me.

I shook my head with a smile on my face and I glanced around at the lingering gazes of the onlookers. Jake effortlessly diverted his attention to entertain the other customers. Taking a deep breath, I made my way outside, stepping into the waiting car. The judgmental air in the shop left me feeling uneasy, and I couldn't shake off that feeling.

…….

The next afternoon, I busied myself, arranging the materials needed for the bedroom painting when I was taken aback by a knock on the door. Frowning, I made my way to the door only to find Jake standing there, looking unexpectedly fresh in a simple white shirt, carrying painting tools.

"Hey there! Told ya I'd show up," Jake grinned, displaying his array of tools.

"Wow, you actually came," I exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

“Of course!” he chuckled, glancing around. “Mind if I step in?”

I widened the door, gesturing for him to enter. “Sure, come on in.”

As Jake stepped inside, I hurried to the kitchen, rustling up a glass of juice and bringing out a bowl of freshly baked cookies I had prepared earlier.

“I made some cookies. Help yourself before we start,” I offered, feeling a tad nervous about how they'd taste.

Jake reached for a cookie, his eyes scanning the cabin. “Hold on,” he said, examining the cookie in his hand.

My nerves flared. "Is it not good?" I asked, worried.

“What? No way. These are hands down the best cookies I’ve had,” he exclaimed, taking another and giving me a thumbs-up.

His gesture caught me off guard, and I burst out laughing—a genuine laugh that hadn’t surfaced since the day I discovered Nicholas was engaged to someone who wasn’t me. Surprisingly, it was Jake who managed to bring back that feeling.

He paused mid-cookie, his expression shifting to a more serious one as he looked directly at me. “You’re laughing,” he observed.

I flashed a grin. “Surprise, surprise. I do that sometimes, you know, being human and all.”

"Has anyone ever told you that you look even prettier when you smile?" he asked seriously.

I arched an eyebrow, unsure if he was making a move or just genuinely giving a compliment. Opting for the latter, I replied, "Nope, can't say anyone's mentioned it," not disclosing that my genuine smiles were seldom seen by others.

"That's hard to believe," he countered.

"It's the truth," I said, redirecting my focus back to painting.

"Then I'll have to keep saying it," he replied, starting to eat the cookies again.

I simply smiled in response, choosing not to read too much into his words. Despite the rumors circulating about me, Jake treated me kindly, never looking down on me or treating me differently. And it was something I am grateful for.

Soon after, Jake followed. We delved into the task at hand, tackling the walls with brushes in hand. As we began painting, Jake took the lead, guiding me through the process with expertise.

"So, you'll want to start with even strokes," Jake instructed, his voice calm which made me think he could be an instructor at this rate, "Make sure the paint is evenly spread, especially in the corners."

I nodded, paying close attention to his tips. "Got it, even strokes, especially in the corners," I repeated, focusing on mimicking his technique.