Married My Ex's Alpha Uncle by Aurora Starling

Silver's POV

I was shocked when Elliot suggested I use him as his model. After the fiasco last night, I was going to ask him again to model for me.

When Leo brought me some of the paintings I left at my father's house, I was surprised when I saw the painting of Gavin in the middle of them. I remembered painting it a couple of years ago when we first met. It was meant as a gift, but I was too nervous to give it to him, so I hid it in my closet.

My cheeks flushed at the thought of my father finding it. However, knowing how popular Gavin was around our packs, especially with women, I figured this painting would go well at the auction.

I spoke to Mariah, the head chef, earlier today while she was making lunch, and she mentioned that I should just ask Elliot once more to be my model.

"He might surprise you," she had said just as she poured me a bowl of beef stew.

Mariah was a wise middle-aged woman who had worked for the Crown family for a long time. As Elliot previously mentioned, she was one of the best cooks in the region. She was not only the head chef at the mansion, but she was also in charge of the kitchen at the packhouse. She had employees that cooked the food at the packhouse though, and she would often go back and forth between the two places. Mariah also owned a couple of 5-star restaurants that she would often check on and work at between her busy schedules. She was the busiest woman I knew. She travels around the packs often for work, which means she gets most of the gossip up front.

so long, she also knew Elliot better than anyone. I enjoyed talking to her

you'll be surprised to see his soft interior. And I think he might have a soft spot for you,"

blushed at her

or not, but it was nice to think that Elliot might feel some sort of way towards me. Mariah knew that this was a marriage of

sure?" I finally asked him,

nearly leaped into my throat as his abs were revealed to me. He slowly slid his shirt off his body and placed it on the chair on top of his jacket. "Do artists

his pants before I

enough!" I said quickly. "You can sit

visibly tensed from my touch and his eyes shifted to meet mine. Clearing my throat, I turned

grabbed a blank easel and my watercolors, along with my stool, and

and getting to work. With a racing

briefly what he was thinking; his eyes were fixed on my features, and I tried not to notice it, but it was difficult when half of this job was to examine