Ripley had talented hands. A voracious mouth and yet, he was loving and tender with me.
I’d never felt so safe than when I was in his arms.
The chill of his absence and swift exit seeped into my skin.
I wasn’t sure what happened to make him leave so quickly, retiring for the night in a hell of a rush, but it wasn’t me. There was a time when I would’ve wallowed in second-guessing my actions and words, but I didn’t do that anymore.
Something was going on with the alpha that he wasn’t saying or wasn’t ready to talk about which was fine since he and I were strangers for the most part. I’d picked up some things about him, namely, his brooding nature and the fact that he liked to eat but didn’t care for Christmas. He helped me with the firewood, whichtold me more about his character but, all in all, we’d only met each other the day before.
But, to my wolf, he was my mate. Belonged to us. Was formed by the Goddess just for me—to share a life with. Fated.
Maybe Ripley hadn’t gotten the message yet. Whatever flicked his switch and forced him to hide from me had to be deep. My wolf felt the pain through our thin, barely there tether.
I gathered up the mugs where we had made and forgotten cups of hot chocolate. My thoughts about the what-ifs fell into the background as I cleaned up and focused on the task at hand.
Heartbroken, I went to bed and with the lull of the howling wind outside, fell fast asleep.
That night, I dreamed of Ripley. Most of my dreams were blurs of action, feelings, and confusion, but this one was so real, I didn’t question whether or not I was in a dream state at all.
His hands were all over me. He was inside me, hovering on top of my body with nothing but love and warmthin his stare.
A whimper came from my mouth as I woke up, realizing Ripley wasn’t there.
Not in my room. Not making love to me.
Fuck, I needed to relieve some of my wolf’s tension and my own.
I threw on some sweatpants and a hoodie and had the intention of going out for a run despite the snow. My wolf was starving for an outlet and desperate times called for desperate measures. Except when I walked toward the front door, I saw how thick and deep the snow had gotten during the night.
There was no way I could get an outside run in.
Good thing I had a treadmill upstairs in the loft. I put on a pot of oatmeal and started the coffeepot before pulling down the hidden stairs to the loft. Ripley wasn’t awake yet, or so I didn’t hear him, and I became nervous about what would happen once he did wake up.
Didn’t he know we were mates?
I would only know when he woke up and we talked.
While I ran, I questioned my instincts and my wolf’s. Running had become something that cleared my head and burned some calories, especially during prime cookie-baking season.
Was there a chance I was wrong about Ripley? Maybe I was simply lonely and craving a connection and, in turn, making too big of a deal about him.
He is mate. He is ours.
I chuckled as my feet hit the belt of the machine. My wolf wasn’t confused at all.
I decided to distract myself for a while. It was supposed to be my vacation time, but a little planning never hurt anyone. It helped my anxiousness to see what was coming up and prepare for it as best I could. Checking my email, I saw that several orders had come in for the new year. Baby showers, my favorite. Birthdays. Anniversaries. A town get-together.
And Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t even the new year yet and I had twelve Valentine’s Day orders. One of them was for a full cookie arrangement. Those took me at least two days, especially since the cookies were personalized.
I would also make some generic arrangements and boxes to be sold at the Oliver Creek farmer’s market the weekend before. I slowed my pace down to a walk and doubled my orders from the year before. Pink and red boxes. Tissue paper. Ribbons. I found myself smiling as I found cute conversation heart boxes and ribbons to match.
My laptop would be needed to start getting all the orders into the spreadsheets, but ideas bubbled in my head. Some orders were specific and others, the ones I like the most, had no parameters.
That let me get creative.
I had a great life. Even if Ripley left today and I never saw him again, I had goals and dreams that hadn’t been fulfilled yet. I had a comfortable den and was thriving.
No, I would not let myself be sad.
