The Lone Wolf's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #3)(35)

“Noon.”

“You’re definitely going through with it?” Her brown eyes are troubled.

I nod and reach over to squeeze her thin hand. “It’ll be fine.”

Annie manages to give me a wavery smile.

Drugs and restraints did not seem like fun, but then, an idea occurred to me. What if I had someone on tap to sex up? Maybe I could do the heat without begging Killian to fetch my mate. Or dying from humiliation, which is what would happen if I ever had to ask my alpha to go get me dick.

Killian’s cooler now that he’s with Una, and they’ve got a pup, but he’s still a massive dick with the emotional intelligence of a bag of rocks.

After I decided to do it, the question became who would be my heat-mate. I immediately ruled out every male in Quarry Pack. If the sex is bad, I don’t need another male I have to avoid. Darragh and his meat is bad enough.

Right after the debacle in the cabin, Darragh had the nerve to come up to our cabin and leave wrapped venison steaks right there on the porch.

I asked Kennedy to throw it away—I wasn’t getting out of bed much at that point—but she took it to Killian instead. Killian must’ve said something to Darragh because he took to giving the meat to him or Old Noreen to pass to me instead of leaving it on the doorstep like a dead mouse.

I eventually summoned up the balls to tell Killian I didn’t want it, and he told me that I should tell Darragh myself.

So like today’s pheasant, I get a lot of meat. I throw it in with the rest of our stores. It doesn’t even hurt much, anymore, that he doesn’t want me, but I guess since he sees me as a responsibility, he’ll go ahead and throw me a few chops now and then.

I don’t know why he needed to give it to me personally today. Probably guilt.

I don’t dwell on it. As I toss the peeler in the sink, I mentally wrap the past hour up in a ball, throw it in a dark closet in the recesses of my mind, and lock the door.

When I was younger, I daydreamed about a house with hundreds of rooms, but now my brain is a hallway with a bunch of locked and barricaded doors. I don’t think I’m any different than most folks. That’s just life and growing up. You’ve got to keep going however you can, and you’ve got to be pragmatic.

“Did you ask Liam to borrow the truck?” Annie interrupts me again. Her anxiety is working overtime today. She gets this way when her routine is going to change. She hates it, but she can’t chill out, either.

“Yup.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said we need to take things to market.”

“But we’re not scheduled to work tomorrow.”

“Liam doesn’t know that.”

“What if he mentions it to Killian, and Killian tells Una? Una knows it’s not our turn.”

I hold up a finger, swipe the potato peels into my cupped palms, and run them to the compost bucket. When Annie gets into one of her worry spirals, she can really get stuck.

That’s why Kennedy and I decided to keep it to ourselves when we first sat down and made a list of all the males we know from other packs. We itemized their pros and cons and had pragmatic discussions about whether being a rich asshole from Moon Pack is disqualifying for reasons of rank solidarity, and if North Border is too far to go for a one-night stand.

There was no clear good choice, and we were getting ready to settle for a dude drawn at random, when Lenox landed in our lap.

It was karma. There was this guy that Kennedy played online with, and he just talked like a shifter. I played the game for a few weeks while we were trying to figure out how to smoke him out. Since the coup, nothing interesting has happened, so deducing that “flowb4bros” was one of us was a big thrill. Eventually, Kennedy worked up the courage to ask him point blank what pack he’s from, and he said Salt Mountain.

And then he asked for my number. He texted me immediately, and we’ve been talking every day since. We chatted on video, and now, finally, I’m going to meet him tomorrow in Chapel Bell to see if we have a “connection.”

That’s his word, not mine. When he talks about feelings, he talks like a guy on a reality TV dating show, and it’s cringey, but in a sweet way. So much better than the double entendres that Quarry Pack males think passes for flirting.

He knows I’m not looking for my mate. I got tipsy a few weeks ago and told him about Darragh and how I want a backup to see me through my heat if it should ever come again. He says he totally understands, and there’s absolutely no pressure, but that he’d be honored to be there for me in that way.

I’m not a hundred percent sure that I’m not skeeved out by that, but then again, I’m not used to males treating me as an equal worthy of respect and consideration.

Anyway, we’re going to get coffee together like humans. We’re going to have fun. No pressure.

I rinse the potato juice off my hands and rejoin Annie. She’s shoveling the chunks into a big bowl to coat them in olive oil and rosemary.

“What dress do you think I should wear tomorrow?” I ask her. On her face, I watch her wires cross. The easiest way to get Annie out of her own head is to ask for her help. She’s the kind of person who will do anything for anyone even when she can’t do for herself.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I got a new dress online, but I’m not sure about it.”