Page 54 of Strawberry Moon

There Archer was, explaining it all to them. I didn’t realize how many of my own pack had alphas they knew who struggled like me. They weren’t all in Grovetown, but half of everybody seemed to have a cousin, relation, or friend who needed help.

The news Archer gave them was good, but by the time the dance floor got busy, I was getting antsy. It looked like he wasn’t going to catch a break, and if I wanted to get his attention, I was going to fight for it.

Across the table from me, Henrik cleared his throat. I glared at him, though he was the last person in the world I was annoyed with—no, usually, I held that esteemed spot myself.

Henrik wasn’t fazed. “You gonna go get that young man, Ford?”

My head cocked, I blinked at him. “I wasn’t sure you liked him...”

Henrik chuckled, cutting another piece of pie and dragging it through some of Cliff’s ice cream. He brought it to his lips. “You never asked. But for the record, I like him just fine. And I think you like him a mite more than that, so you’d better tell him so, while there’s still all this romance in the air. Suspect if you don’t, Skip’ll stop making eyes and go for it himself.”

He waved his fork at me, Barbara gave me a nod, and with a heavy sigh, I pushed back from the table and got in line to talk to my... Archer.

Yeah. That felt right.My Archer. At least, to the wolf it did. Me? The man part? I still had some explaining to do.

It took almost ten full minutes to get to him. But by the time I had, he’d seen me coming. He didn’t run off, like I’d feared he would when I smelled the spike of his adrenaline and the sharpness of his worry. Still, he was biting his lips between his teeth by the time I got there, and he’d gone all pale and sweaty under those warm hanging lights.

“Hey, Archer.” My voice came out thick, nerves tightening my throat until the words scraped past like sandpaper.

He nodded. “Ford.” His pink tongue darted out, brushing across his lips as he glanced over me. “You look... nice.”

Could he smell how sorry I was? I hoped so. I could say it a million times, but it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t believe me.

“You too.” I took a second to wipe my hand, slick all the sudden, on my trousers. Then, I held it out to him. “I was wondering if—well, I’d like to dance with you, if you’ve got any time or inclination for that sort of thing...”

There I was, talking around the issue again, while Archer stared down at my open palm. His throat bobbed nervously. He sucked in his cheeks, and my stomach dropped. He was going to say no.

“And we could talk?” I cut in, before he had the chance. “I owe you a mighty big explanation. And a bigger apology. But if you want me to leave you alone, that’s—that’s okay too. Just, if you ever do”—why was he still so damn quiet?—“want to talk, I’m here for that. For you. I can wait.”

Just when I was ready to blurt out what a bad idea it was to interrupt a wedding for a complicated, heartfelt chat, Archer took a long, shaky inhale. His head tipped up, and he met my eye, right as he dropped his hand in mine.

“Okay,” he said. “We could share a dance.”

One dance. I’d have to make it count.

38

Archer

Adance.

It was the last thing I’d expected, after the brush off he’d given me. Honestly, I had expected him to never talk to me again.

Maybe he felt guilty, since it was obvious now that I was becoming pack.

And he was awkward. He led me out to the dance floor, between the first rows of apple trees in the orchard, and for a second when we got there, he just turned and looked at me.

He did it for so long that if his expression hadn’t been wistful and hopeful and nervous, I might have turned and walked away, assuming I was being mocked. But no. Ford was maybe even more terrified than I was.

Finally, I wrapped my arms around his neck and stepped close to him. “This is where we dance, remember?”

He swallowed hard and nodded, finally sliding his hands to the small of my back and letting them rest there, albeit a little stiffly. When I swayed with the music, he followed my lead, continuing to bite his lip.

Finally, halfway through the song, he took a deep breath and started talking. “I’m sorry. Real sorry. I shouldn’t have walked off like that I just—I had a lot to think about, and I know that ain’t an excuse, but I wasn’t ready yet.”

He cut off and dropped his head, staring at the floor between us instead of looking me in the eye, so I sighed and leaned into that space. “Ford. I know you were married. Everyone in town still talks about your wife like she was a saint. And I can’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that. I also don’t want to push you into anything, or try to make you forget that you’ve had a whole life before we met.”

“So’ve you, and you didn’t push me away and ignore me. Didn’t growl at me. Didn’t—”

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