Page 19 of Daddy's Mail Order Mate

“... But,” she goes on, “I should go. I’d rather walk out of here with my head held high and go be homeless than have to deal with you kicking me out of your life. Again. Feel free to tell Paige I said hi, and sorry. I lost the bracelet she made for me ages ago and I still feel bad about it.”

Gwen shifts to stand, and I have to fight my body to not reach out and urgently grasp her hand. At least I have enough sense to know that trying to suddenly touch her is a bad idea. Not just with our complicated history, but I’ve heard that the rejected mate bond is torture. It felt bad enough being on this end of it.

“Don’t go.”

She flinches and stops. A long silence hovers between us before she carefully wets her mouth and speaks in a careful, cracked tone.

“... And why not?”

“You—…You’re homeless?”

Her expression sours.

“I didn’t say that to garner any sympathy. Just to make a point.”

“But why are you homeless? Couldn’t you at least go and live with your brother and his pack? Who is he even with?”

“Elm Wood. Not too far from here, apparently.”

Ahh, he was one of Eli’s new recruits. I hadn’t properly been through there in a decent bit. That was for the best though. I imagine if I’d run into Lucas in the wild, I would have had to deal with him trying to instigate something rather publicly.

Her arms cross and she stares down at me a sharp narrowing of her eyes.

“And we talked about this on the app. Neither of us have any interest in joining a pack. And the last thing I need is to be stuck dependent on a borderline cult that could treat me like shit at a moment’s notice. I’ll take curling up in my car each night if it means I don’t have to deal with that ever again.”

I can’t look her in the eyes after that.

God, I’m such a hypocrite.

“... And you won’t have to. Stay here for the two weeks that were agreed on. Get your bearings.”

That slakes some of the territorial spike from my wolf, though I can feel the warning snarl and flash of teeth in my subconscious as it warns me not to make any implication that she would leave after.

“Why?”

Rowan makes an idle little babble and by reflex I look over at him and reach into his crib to start giving him attention. That earns me an easy smile and some more happy noises from my baby, heedless of the serious conversation going on right in front of him.

“... I owe you that much.”

The conversation stills once more.

She says nothing long enough that I finally look back to her, seeking some indication of what she might be thinking. Her eyes are distant, but they lock in to mine a moment after.

When I’d first fallen for her, hers were the eyes that taught me what “doe-eyed” really meant. To the point that I’d even call her doe as a pet name. At some particularly sentimental moments, I’d even called her my little doe once or twice. And my wolf stirs, knowing he’d chase this particular prey to the ends of the earth…

If only I would let him.

“Fine.”

My breath stops.

Gwen’s posture goes firm, and she looks at me with a steadfast resolve that reminds me so much of the girl who’d I’d shared so many of my firsts with.

“I’ll go call off my brother. He’s going to be an asshole about it, so give me a few minutes.”

“Sure,” I reply, my terse tone not betraying the tumult of emotions stirring inside of me.

As I watch her stand and stride back outside, I wonder how I’m going to manage all these old emotions on top of raising my son.

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