He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Fuck. He looked up to the clouds again. Snowflakes were floating down now. They were small, but the forecast called for a big storm tonight.
A widow. She’d lost her mate. He couldn’t even imagine the pain.
He swallowed hard and connected a call to her.
“Hello?” she answered, in that bell-tone, pretty, sweet voice of hers.
“How long ago did he die?”
“Why does that matter?” she asked.
“I want to know where you are with it all.”
“I don’t like you demanding answers about something so personal.”
“If it’s something like three months, I have to leave you alone.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s different when you’re mourning. You won’t be yourself. I have no right to pull you off coping.”
“You…you speak of it like you understand.”
“My dad passed. I watched my mother go through it. They were paired for fifteen years. I was ten when it happened, but I still remember her pain.”
“I understand werewolf bonds. I’m so sorry.”
“You can’t understand them. You’re human. Don’t be sorry though. It was a while ago. How long ago was it for you?”
“Ten years.”
He frowned. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-three. And also, this is another rude question, just so you know.”
“Woman, did you not read the ‘all red flags and no green flags’ part of my message?”
“Yeah, but you are wrong. You bought me and my mom a beer today as a nice gesture. Green flag.”
“Look, if you are dipping your toe into the dating pool, you should know one nice gesture doesn’t give a man a free pass for doing whatever he wants.”
“Dating advice from a werewolf?”
“Yep. Make better decisions than giving your number to a monster next time, won’t you?”
“I find you interesting.”
“That’ll wear off. Trust me. Give it twenty-four hours.”
She giggled. “Are you still at the hardware store?”
Dodger chewed his lip and aimed his phone at the newly fixed fence, and snapped a pic, then sent it to her. “About to head home,” he told her.
“Nice work. Geez, you’re fast.”
“Fast at fence building, slow in the bedroom.”
She gasped sharply. “Inappropriate.”
