I instantly forgot my name. It took me a second to remember. “It’s John. Not very memorable,Iknow.”
“John…” he murmured. It sounded like a completely different name on his tongue. More sexy. “I’llrememberit.”
I smiled withoutmeaningto.
He held out a large hand. “I’mVincent.”
I stared down at it for a second, almost forgetting the concept of a handshake. I took his hand and tried to ignore the shudder that shot down my spine as our skinconnected.
Get your mind out of thegutter.
“It’s nice to meet you,”Vincentsaid.
“You too,” I said, my voice almostcracking.
Vincent pulled up a child-sized chair and sat precariously on it. I was surprised it didn’t collapse under his heavy muscle. He looked hilariously out of place sitting in a tiny pinkchair.
“So, John, what brings you here?” heasked.
A wry grin stretched over my face. “You’re obviously not here very often. I come here almost every day. I practicallylivehere.”
That sounded desperate. Maybe I shouldn’t havesaidthat.
“Oh,” he said, sounding genuinely interested. “Do you work here? Or are you avolunteer?”
Yep. There’s no answer to this that doesn’t make me seem like a desperateweirdo.
“Neither,” I said with a slow shrug. “I mean, I help look after the kids sometimes and play with them but I’m not an official volunteer oranything.”
“You looking toadopt,then?”
I let out an awkward laugh. “Not really. I mean - not right now. I mean… Idon’tknow.”
He shrugged. “Fairenough.”
I was still curious whathewas doing here, and the question blurted out of me before I could stop it. “Howaboutyou?”
“Honestly? I have no idea,” he said with a deep chuckle. “I was just in the area - just got back from a run in the woods and was heading back to my apartment - when I realized I pass by this place almost every day and I’ve never been inside.” He leaned back - or as far as he could with it being a chair designed for children. “I guess I never thought about how many kids in our pack don’t havefamilies.”
I nodded and glanced around the room at all the children, blissfully ignorant of their situation. “A lot of people don’t know this but… a lot of the children here are from packs besidesourown.”
Vincent’s brows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Some of our neighbouring territories, like Whitewood and Silvercreek, have been at war recently. I think they’ve settled down now, but because of the fighting, a lot of pups lost theirparents.”
A deep sympathy spread across Vincent’s face. “That’shorrible.”
“It is.” I sighed and lowered my voice. “It’s even worse that our pack tries to keep that on the down-low so that potential adopters aren’t turned off by the kids not being from RedSkypack.”
“What?” Vincent was taken aback. “Why would people even think that? A child is a child, no matter where theycomefrom.”
I shook my head. “I agree. I guess they just didn’t want to take any chances with people’sassumptions.”
Vincent’s brows furrowed together. “I just can’t believe there are people like that. Hell, if I met anyone like that in our pack I’d kicktheirass.”
I knew he was serious but I burst out laughing. He was so angry, sitting there in the tiny pinkchair.
“Sorry,” I said, holding back laughter. “You just look… kind of funnyrightnow.”
