Page 42 of An Engagement Pact

Dan is visibly pleased with our plan for the weekend. When we’re done reviewing the sessions, he unpacks neatly in two of the dresser drawers and goes to take a shower. I flop out on top of my covers, texting Esther to let her know we made it safely.

Then I close my eyes and try not to imagine what Dan looks like naked in the shower.

To my relief, when he eventually comes back into the room, he’s fully dressed in a T-shirt and sweats. His feet are bare, and I like the looks of them against the carpet. “I’m not going to wear this to the big banquet,” he explains. “I just didn’t want to lie around in uncomfortable clothes.”

“I figured.” I’m hit with the most ridiculously intense urge to grab him, press my body against him, run my hands up and down his back and feel the curve of his ass.

That won’t do at all.

With a gulp, I root through my suitcase until I’ve grabbed my toiletries, leggings, and an oversized T-shirt. “I’m going to take a shower too,” I tell him.

“Good plan.” He’s already stretched out on his bed, holding his phone up to read whatever is on the screen.

I could go over there and climb on top of him. I want to so bad.

It’s harder than I would have expected to restrain the impulse, but I make it into the bathroom.

After I get in the shower, I have a quick, quiet session with my hand, and I feel better after that.

***

THE WOLF CONFERENCEis every bit as nutty as Dan was hoping.

The people in attendance are split between aging hippie-types and younger folks who have been pulled into a particular blend of social justice causes and mystical weirdness online. None of them appear remotely surprised that Dan and I have joined in—despite our white-bread appearance and lack of spiritual creds.

Dan jumps into the sessions with both feet, but he doesn’t do it in a mocking way. Not even in the most ridiculous events, including a long lecture about how to establish an exclusive new wolf colony or an intense debate over which crystals are the best for channeling the purest wolf spirits. He participates with infectious, sincere enthusiasm that makes everyone like him, asking questions and buying so many wolf-themed trinkets and paraphernalia that he’s going to need an extra bag on the way home.

I’ve never had such a good time in my life.

Not in my entire life.

We’re quickly embraced by the other attendees, and I like most of them a lot more than I ever would have expected. They might be silly, but most of them are earnest in their desire to do good in the world and are sincerely interested in getting to know us.

On Saturday at dinner, it feels like we’ve already made a lot of friends. While Dan finishes filling his plate at the buffet, I glance around for a place to sit. People at three different tables wave at me, but I head toward Sage and Aspen’s table since they’re making the most insistent gestures of welcome.

I sit down in one of the empty chairs across from them and pull back the one beside me for Dan.

Sage and Aspen are a middle-aged lesbian couple we met this morning at the session for learning the wolf dances. They both have very long, naturally graying hair, and they wear over-the-top bohemian skirts, dresses, shawls, and jewelry.

They’re smiling as they greet me. Aspen says, “It looks like your man got waylaid by Gray Horse.”

I can’t help but like the way she referred to Dan as my man. I glance back and see he’s talking with the older man who calls himself Gray Horse. The other man is very intense and has little regard for personal space. I snort at Dan’s expression as he balances his plate and drink and tries to get away.

“Are you guys enjoying your day so far?” Sage asks me.

“We really are. We’ve been having a great time.” I don’t have to lie or stretch the truth. I’ve been having a fantastic day. I’m about to ask them what sessions they attended this afternoon when Dan finally makes it to the table.

He sets down his plate and then pulls out his chair, giving my head a quick kiss as he sits down.

“You’re too cute,” Sage says, smiling over at Aspen. “Aren’t they cute?”

“Very cute. How did the two of you get together?”

I pause to formulate an easy, simple backstory for our relationship, but Dan beats me to the answer. “Vicky moved to town last year and started walking dogs for a local company.” He leans back and drapes a casual arm around my shoulders. “One day I was talking to someone on the sidewalk and I looked across the street. There she was, walking five dogs at once. She was smiling down at one of the dogs, and I’d never seen anything so radiant. And it hit me then—this undeniable recognition. And I said to myself,I’m going to marry that girl.”

I gasp since his tone and his expression both sound so sincere. “You did not!”

“Yes, I did.” He tightens his arm around me and is chuckling as he gives the others a dryly amused look. “But it took Vicky a little longer to realize I was the one for her.”

---