Chapter Three

Soojin

T his man, I swear.

Even after all the crap my ex-husband put me through, it seems I’m still a sucker for wolves–or at least I’m a sucker for this one.

He’s supposed to be retired. We all went to the ceremony. Retirement means you stay home or play golf or get a RV and travel. It doesn’t mean you keep showing up back to work.

Here I thought I was finally safe from having to constantly run into Randy. I could finally stop letting him fill my every waking thought with the silly hope that today would be the day he’d make a move.

“I didn’t know you went to church.” Randy says as we head toward the DJ’s stand and start unstacking chairs.

Be calm. He’s just a man , I remind myself as I turn from the chairs I’m unstacking and find him so close I can smell the laundry detergent he washes with. Wolves have insane hearing. Can he hear my heart picking up as his face moves closer to mine? “You assumed I was a heathen?” I deadpan.

He huffs a laugh and rubs the back of his head. “No, I never assume. Just–your hours are pretty brutal. Sunday morning seems like a hard day to make it to services when you’ve spent all night cooking for everybody.”

“It is, but I make it when I can. You don’t come across pastors like Michelle very often.”

At that exact moment, Michelle and Eddie burst into laughter, and our eyes are drawn toward the sound. “A pastor and a demon, though?” he says, shaking his head.

I shrug. “Stranger matchups have happened.”

“While matchups that aren’t strange at all, somehow have never happened,” he mutters under his breath.

I’m speechless for a moment.

The audacity.

I snort dismissively. “I’ve never seen that be a problem for anyone.” I lean close, so my scent can invade his space. His eyes grow wide as I meet his gaze. “If someone wanted something to happen, they had every opportunity, but they–”

“Sue! Suuuuuuue!” a woman with pink hair calls out from the door. I turn to find a small group of men and women pulling off hats and scarves and gloves just inside the door. The woman hurries over and follows us as we continue to arrange chairs. “Sue, it’s been a while! It’s so good to see you! Who’s your handsome fella?”

I can’t, for the life of me, remember her name. It doesn’t matter, she’s not here to talk to me. She turns her back to me before I can answer, sticking out a hand for Randy to shake. He takes a step back before he shakes it. “I’m Randy Lamar–”

“He’s just a friend, Jessica,” I blurt out as I remember her name. “He used to own this place, but he’s retired now. His nephews run it now.”

“Oh.” Her face lights up. “I don’t see a ring on your hand! Are you single, by any chance, Mr. Lamar?” Jessica’s voice takes on this annoying sing-song quality that makes me cringe with second-hand embarrassment and, if I’m honest, something akin to jealousy. “We have a big singles group that could definitely use some more men.”

Randy looks at me, amusement in his eyes. We may not have ever gotten together, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting the church ladies have him. Without thinking, I step between him and Jessica. “He’s not interested in church. He’s an atheist. He hates religion and everything about it.”

Jessica looks equal parts shocked and confused as I grab Randy’s arm and drag him away to the bar.

“So I’m an atheist?” He grins, resting his hand over top of the one I have on his arm. His hand is warm and distracting, and I’m tempted to look down at it, but I refuse to admit I’m affected by something as simple as the touch of his hand. “I never remember getting a chance to sit down and chat with you about religion or much of anything.”

“Jessica runs the singles group. You don’t want to get stuck in it. It’s just a bunch of thirsty, middle-aged–”

“That might be kinda fun, actually,” he teases.

I give him a dark look and pull my hand out from underneath his, turning away and pretending to be incredibly interested in setting the boxes of donuts out. He moves to the opposite end of the bar and works his way toward me. Michelle moves up to the DJ’s area and takes the microphone as the chairs we’ve set out fill up.

We meet in the middle, and if I’m just a little overly aggressive with the last donut box, it’s mostly because I’m mad at myself. I’m a big girl. It’s not like I couldn’t have asked him out myself over the past year, but now it feels too late, like asking the neighbor you’ve lived next to for years what their name is. Still, if he’d ever been clear, if it had ever been more than just flirting…

“If we never got to sit down and talk about anything, it’s because you never asked,” I say softly before walking away. I take the last open seat in the very front between Terry, who’s sitting with his husband, and Jocelyn, one of the vet techs at Campbell’s Clinic.

It’s not brave at all, but I know he heard me. I spent years of my life as a young woman biting my tongue, knowing that wolves could hear every mutter and whisper.

I force myself to sit up straight and stare straight ahead during the singing and announcements. It’s only during the morning greeting when Michelle encourages us to stand and greet those around us that I dare to sneak a look at the back. Randy’s still hanging around, standing awkwardly in the back with Eddie. His eyes seek mine. I should meet them, challenge them.

But I don’t. I’m such a chicken.

I drop my eyes to the floor immediately, as if I’m still a twenty-five year old Luna standing in front of her disdainful Alpha and not a forty-five year old woman who can stand on her own.

Wolves…I swear. I should learn to just leave well enough alone.