Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
Or at least, I hope those are the vibes I’m giving off.
Again, she doesn’t react to my touch. No blinking, no sharp intake of breath. Nothing.
I take several sips of the water as my mind races. What should I do? How should I proceed? I could just yell “MATE!” and see what she says.
But that means claiming her out loud. And I don’t want to claim her. How would it look if I claim her but then say, “I’m going to reject you?”
And I can’t shout out “MATE!” in the restaurant. Not with humans around.
The pieces click together. That must be it. She’s not acknowledging it because we’re in public. Okay. I’ll play it cool, too. I can be as nonchalant as her. I can pretend her scent isn’t the most divine thing I’ve ever smelled. I can pretend her presence and her smile aren’t making my wolf turn circles in my mind.
“Sorry. I must have gotten lightheaded,” I say.
“It is a little warm in here,” she replies, nodding, her curly hair bouncing with the movement, ensnaring my attention with their spiraling dance. “And you probably had your knees locked, which doesn’t help. You should feel fine once you have a little more water and have been sitting for a bit,” she continues with a smile.
“Right,” I say, giving a dry chuckle, setting the half-empty glass on the table and playing with the condensation.
Like she doesn’t know the real reason I reacted the way I did.
“Here’s that second water,” a server says as he approaches our table, and I stop the movements of my hand as it draws a curlicue on the glass.
“Thanks,” my mate says, turning her bright grin to him.
My wolf growls in my mind, hair standing up at the nape of his neck, and I grip my chin, covering my mouth to keep the sound from slipping through my lips and rubbing my jaw to hide my reaction.
Shit, what is wrong with me? Why should I care if she smiles at the server? She’s just being friendly. She’s just being polite.
Stupid wolf.
Stupid mate bond.
“I know you haven’t had time to look over your menu, but can I get either of you some wine while you decide? Perhaps the most recent vintage of pinot noir from Vigne Della Luna, or maybe some champagne?”
“Oh, no, I am fine with water,” my mate says, shaking her head.
I lean forward, her words and my wolf driving me to speak before I can think. “Hey, you can order whatever you want,” I say. “Don’t worry about the price.”
“It’s not that,” she says. “I just don’t drink alcohol.”
I blink and lean back in my seat, grabbing my water and taking a sip to hide my face.
“What about you, sir?” the server asks me.
“Nothing for me,” I say, showing him my water glass with a half smile. “I’ll stick with water too.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she says as he walks away. “I don’t mind if people drink in front of me.”
I set my glass down again. “I don’t—I don’t drink either,” I mumble, pressing my lips together once the words leave my mouth.
Why did I tell her that? I don’t know her. I’ve never met this woman, and I’m telling her something I’ve never even admitted to my best friends.
Stupid mate bond.
Stupid wolf.
“Really?” she asks, her brows raising.
“Yep.” I look down at the table, at the navy blue napkin folded like a swan on my plate.
“Why?”
“I just don’t.” I rush the words out so my wolf doesn’t force me to disclose any other personal details to this woman. This stranger.
“I used to,” she says. “But a drunk driver killed my parents. That’s why I moved here a little over a year ago. My aunt—my mom’s sister—is the only family I have left, and she lives here. I mean, in Silver Ridge. My parents used to live here too, but my dad had a job offer in San Diego right after they mated. He couldn’t pass it up, so they moved down there before I was born. But I wanted to be with my family, so I came here after they died.”
I nod as she talks, my eyes fixated on her face as her emotions play across her features during her story. My heart aches; her pain is my pain. Her eyes go distant, her voice trailing off, and we sit in silence for a moment.
“Oh, Goddess!” she exclaims, dropping her face into her hands. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so rude!”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You are far from rude.”
“I’m over here pouring my heart out to you, telling you my sob story, and I haven’t even introduced myself!”
“It’s really not a big deal. I’m not upset.”
“Taryn Campbell,” she says, ignoring me and holding her hand out across the table.
I eye it, staring at it like it’s a cobra about to strike. It has to be a test. She’s too composed, too easy-going about this whole situation. About us being mates. She must be waiting to spring the trap, to catch me off guard, and that’s when she’ll drag me under, take me into her clutches, and beg me to never leave her.
My eyes travel up the sleeve of her black turtleneck back to her face, to those starless night eyes, eyes that hold no hint of malice or cunning. She’s just smiling, waiting for me to reply, waiting for me to shake her hand and tell her my name.
I don’t get it. I don’t understand why she isn’t reacting to me at all. Why am I a steaming hot mess over here while she is relaxed and poised over there? It should be the opposite. I should be the cool one, the one telling her she doesn’t have a chance with me, while she is on her knees begging me to not reject her.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?