I was starting to understand how much it meant to be with one’s mate. Just being in the same building was better than being anywhere else on earth. My wolf and I had held out for our true mate. What if we had allowed ourselves to be matched to someone else?
The thought chilled me.
Chapter Eight
Temple
As awkward as I feared conversation was going to be when I slid into that booth, it wasn’t at all. If anything, it flowed too easily to be true. If I wasn’t still covered in grease, I’d have thought I was dreaming.
I didn’t know this alpha well at all, but it also felt like we were long-lost friends. Maybe friends wasn’t the right word—it felt deeper than that. More than once, I caught myself reaching out to grab his hand and remembering where I was and who I was with. He was a stranger. He wasn’t asking me to grope him in front of the entire town. Not that hand-holding was groping, but still…
When he asked if he could stay until my shift was over to wait for me, it was hard for me not to give a fist bump and shout a big old, “Yes!” Somehow I managed to keep my composure.
Going back to work wasn’t fun. I wanted to stay there and talk with him longer. Thankfully, it was busy enough that the time went by pretty quickly. I’d peek out the little window and see him there, talking to Layla or Gary or doing something on his phone. And quite often, he’d be looking up at me as I tapped the bell. Not once did he look frustrated by all the waiting.
Finally, the grill was closed and my shift almost over.
“Head on out of here. I can clean the grill tonight.” Gary grabbed my shoulder. “You’ve got someone waiting for you.”
I wanted to argue with him, to tell him I was responsible and would do what was needed to be done. It was the right thing to do. But the words didn’t come, the desire to head back out to Gabe so much stronger.
“I owe you one.” Or a million. That was still to be determined.
It had been a long time since I’d been on a date, and this felt very much like a date. A date without the fancy planning that included things like a shower and clean clothing. I smelled like a walking hamburger that had been dipped in day-old fry grease. It was the last thing I wanted to smell like as I went over to the hot guy waiting for me, but I couldn’t exactly sneak home for a shower.
My brothers were going to kill me when they saw me, and that might not be hyperbole. Luck wouldn’t be by my side either; it was far too early for them to be in a drunken stupor. How sad was it that being passed-out drunk was the best-case scenario?
“You don’t owe me anything. If you weren’t here, I’d been behind the grill for at least a shift, and Layla would be doing double time up front. Trust me, we owe you. Now scram.” He pointed toward the swinging door.
I went into the dining room. Gabe had already slid out of the booth and was waiting for me. I approached him, and he smiled so brightly, it didn’t even faze him that I smelled the way I did. Maybe he was immune from being in this place all day. But in any case, I felt relaxed and safe, and I was going to savor every second of our time together.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
I nodded, and we walked out into the cooler evening air.
“The only place I know of here to take you is the bar or the motel,” he said, grabbing the back of his neck. “And both of those sound like I’m trying to get you into my bed. I don’t want you to think I’m that kind of alpha.”
“Trust me, I don’t think that of you.” But also, I wouldn’t turn it down. “But you’re right, there isn’t a lot to do here unless you’re a teenager on bonfire night. We can go for a walk, though?”
Small-town living had both benefits and drawbacks. A lack of nightlife fell into both categories.
Walks were always good, though, and the fresh air was my friend after a long shift behind the grill. If luck were on my side, it would keep him from realizing how much I stank. At first, we wandered aimlessly, talking about the weather, why he was in town in the first place, how he was staying at the motel—normal chitchat. We hadn’t approached the serious conversations, and I was glad. I wasn’t ready for them, and if he was only here for a day or two while his car got fixed, well, maybe there would never be a time for them.
Why did that make me so sad?
I found our hands brushing together as we walked, and my first instinct was to grab a hold of his. So I did, immediately pulling it back and apologizing.
“No, don’t apologize.” He grabbed my hand in his, the warmth of his spreading up my arm. I didn’t let go, and I liked it that way. “Please don’t apologize for showing me what you want.”
The way he framed it had me relaxing into his touch.
“Did you want to stop over here?” I pointed to the school playground, which acted as our pseudo park on the weekends.
We walked over and sat on the swings and continued talking about books we liked, favorite foods, all the typical get-to-know-you things. Then he caught me in a yawn.
“Hey, we don’t have to stay out. I can take you home.” He was trying to be kind. That didn’t stop it from hurting. Hurting because I didn’t want to leave him, while at the same time reminding me of what lay in store for me at home.
I stopped the swing, wanting anything but saying good-bye. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m not tired.”
