Daniel stared at the organized files like I'd performed some kind of arcane ritual. “You fixed it.”
“I reorganized it. The fixing part is ongoing.” I pulled out a notebook, flipped to the page where I'd outlined a basic system. “This is what I'm recommending. Invoices by vendor with monthly subcategories. Receipts by date with expense type tags. Inventory tracked weekly with a running log that cross-references supply orders. It's not complicated, but it needs to be consistent.”
“And you'll show me how to maintain it?”
“That's what you're paying me for.” I met his eyes, felt that pull again, that magnetic something that made it hard to look away. “If you're still offering the job.”
“I'm still offering.” His voice dropped, went serious. “You're sure? This isn't just charity accounting for a grieving widower?”
“You're not a charity case, Daniel. You're a business that needs an accountant.” I held his gaze. “And I'm someone who needs a reason to get out of my house. We're both getting something out of this.”
The moment stretched. Weighted with things neither of us was saying.
“Alright,” Daniel said finally. “You're hired. Come on. I'll show you where you'll be working.”
He didn't just show me the office. He gave me the full tour again, walking me through every section of the operation like I hadn't seen it three days ago. Log intake, primary processing, drying kilns, finishing stations. All the same information delivered with the same careful attention.
But this time, he stayed close.
Not touching. Not crowding. Just... present. Walking half a step behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, could catch his scent every time I turned my head. Pine and sawdust and something warmer underneath, something thatmade my wolf-educated brain thinkAlphaeven though I was thoroughly, completely human.
It took me twenty minutes to realize what he was doing.
We'd stopped near the finishing stations, Daniel explaining something about lumber grades and quality control, when one of the workers approached. Young guy, maybe mid-twenties, with an easy smile and sawdust in his hair.
“Hey boss, got a question about the Henderson order?—”
Daniel shifted. Subtle, but unmistakable. One moment he was standing beside me, the next he was between me and the worker, shoulders squared, blocking the guy's path like he'd done it a thousand times without thinking.
The worker's eyebrows rose. He glanced at me, then back at Daniel, and something that looked suspiciously like amusement flickered across his face.
“I can come back later,” he said, backing up with his hands raised. “Didn't mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”
“You're not interrupting anything,” Daniel said, but he didn't move.
The worker retreated, throwing a grin over his shoulder that suggested he was going to tell everyone in the building about this the moment he was out of earshot.
I watched him go. Then I turned to Daniel.
“Are you scenting me?”
Daniel's expression went through about six different emotions in two seconds. Surprise. Guilt. Something that looked almost like panic. Then carefully constructed confusion that wasn't fooling anyone.
“I don't know what you mean.”
“You've been hovering. Staying close. Every time one of your workers comes within ten feet of me, you find a reason to stand between us.” I crossed my arms. “That's scenting behavior. Even I know that much about wolves.”
“That's not—I wasn't—” Daniel stopped. Started again. “It's a protective instinct. You're new here. The workers don't know you. I'm just making sure?—”
“Making sure what? That the guy with a clipboard doesn't ask me about lumber grades too aggressively?”
From somewhere behind us, I heard a snort. Then another. I glanced over my shoulder and found three workers very deliberately not looking in our direction, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.
“Dad.” Evan's voice carried across the mill floor, equal parts amused and exasperated. “You're doing it again.”
Daniel's jaw clenched. A flush crept up his neck, visible even through the sawdust and five o'clock shadow.
“I am not doing anything.”
