Page 13 of Wanderlust With Wolves

I recognize that kind of answer.

The kind that meansI don’t want to talk about it.

Instead of pushing, I nod, watching how he chooses his words carefully.

“I’ve got my family here now,” he says, “and the ability to start over.”

That?Thatresonates.

I exhale, shifting in my chair. “Starting over is nice.”

He tilts his head, waiting.

I sip my tea, swirling the liquid in the cup. “I’m heading to California,” I admit. “Leaving behind a mess in Florida.”

His ear twitches. “A mess?”

“An ex. A mistake. A financial disaster.” I sigh, shaking my head. “Fresh starts are good for the soul.”

He hums in agreement, waiting for me to continue.

So I do.

I tell him about my cross-country journey, how I make my living as a freelancer, submitting travel stories and lifestyle pieces. I tell him how much I love the freedom, the way the road never ties me down.

“If it weren’t for my inheritance, though,” I admit, “I’d probably be stuck in a corporate job. So Iamgrateful to my parents for that. I love what I do. Freedom and all that.”

A chime interrupts our moment.

“Oh—” I blink at my phone, groaning. “Speak of the devil. I forgot I have aconference call.”

Ronan’s ears flick. “Even here?”

“Deadlines don’t care where I am,” I sigh, standing.

Then, before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “I wish we could keep this conversation going.”

Ronan’s gaze intensifies.

Then, smoothly, he says, “Join me for dinner.”

My stomach does a little flip.

Iwantto.

But I’m exhausted from the day, and if I go to dinner, IknowI’ll get all wrapped up in Ronan’s presence and completely forget to sleep.

So instead, I counter-offer.

“How about brunch?” I suggest. “Luna recommended a place.”

His tail flicks thoughtfully. “Brunch.”

“Brunch.” I nod. “It’s a thing. Mimosas. Pancakes. Civilization.”

His lips curl slightly, the closest thing I’ve seen to a full grin. “Alright. Brunch.”

I grin back. “Meet me here at eleven?”

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