8. Joe

Chapter 8

Joe

To say I felt like I was dreaming as I walked through the field with Waylan, would have been the understatement of the decade.

I was pretty certain I was dreaming. If I wasn't, that meant I'd actually woken up that morning as a farmhand with a massive crush on the boss he'd barely spoken to and ended up as a fox shifter making out with his coyote boss.

Adding to the dreamlike quality of the afternoon was the golden sunlight and the fact that we were both butt naked while we walked and held hands. Those things just didn't happen in my life. When good things did happen in my life, they happened around me and I was just lucky enough to witness them—a lunar eclipse or a double rainbow.

This was something entirely different.

I settled into the idea that I was probably dreaming and decided to just lean in and enjoy it. My brain couldn't handle the idea that I was a shifter, but it also couldn't handle the idea that Waylan liked me back. Put the two of them together, and I had some kind of neural short-circuitry going on.

As we neared the barn, Waylan squeezed my hand.

Our two piles of clothes were still there, and I wondered if we were just going to get dressed and pretend nothing happened. Even though I desperately wanted to stay naked with him. To my relief, he walked to the wooden chest inside the barn and pulled out more soft blankets. He carried them to the hay loft and laid several on top of each other, then came back and took my hand as he guided me to the little nest he'd made.

"Sometimes, when guys come to work on the farm, they just want to sleep here rather than go home. That's why I keep bedding out here."

I paused as he laid down and patted the blanket next to him. "Is this like a thing for you then?" A sudden pang of jealousy shot through my chest, and I frowned.

Waylan cocked his head and chuckled. "What do you mean?"

"The blankets. Do you often seduce your farmhands?" I felt stupid even as the words were leaving my lips. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business." I covered my face with my hands and wished I could take back everything I'd just said.

"Don't be sorry. You have the right to ask. We don't really know each other. Yet." He patted the blanket again. "Come lie down with me."

I stretched out beside him, and he pulled a comforter over us. It was soft and smelled like fresh spring air. Deeply inhaling, I calmed a bit, even as I shivered.

He must have noticed because he began to briskly rub my arms and back.

"You're really only twenty- five ?" I couldn't hide my smile. "You do seem older. In a good way." But looking closer at his face, I could see that he wasn't much older than me, except for his eyes. His eyes already had lines around them, and there was a hint of pain inside them that made him look much older than his years.

He chuckled. "Thanks, I guess?"

Now that I was warmed up from the heat radiating off Waylan, I just wanted to curl into him. He looked delicious, and a flood of slick poured out of me, preparing me for something I'd never considered before.

I slid one foot over and tangled it up between his feet.

He cleared his throat and a pained expression flitted across his face.

Oops. I pulled my foot back. "Was that not okay?"

"No, it's…I'm not usually very good at this." He gestured at the air between us and inhaled deeply.

"Cuddling?"

He smiled, but the pained look was still in his eyes. He rolled onto his back and reached his arm around me, pulling me toward him until my head nestled onto his chest.

I inhaled his scent and closed my eyes, afraid he might be upset that I was hard against his thigh. I prayed it wouldn't freak him out. I mean, we had kissed, but I still didn't know how far he wanted this to go.

His hand slid under my chin, and he tilted my face up to look at him. "I like feeling you against me."

Could he read my thoughts? I smiled and pushed against him as I swallowed. "I like it, too."

"Joe, you know how you asked me why I'm out here by myself?"

I nodded.

"I just haven't really fit in anywhere for my whole life, I guess. People sometimes get sad if they spend too much time around me." His voice seemed to break just a little as he spoke.

I reached over and slid my hand into his, intertwined our fingers, and squeezed. "Do you have any family?"

I played with the hair on his chest and listened while he told me about his pack and what it was like to grow up there. He told me about his boss, his gardening, and how he'd ended up on the farm. Being immune to the effects of pawflower made him perfect for the job.

But there was no denying the loneliness I heard and felt while Waylan spoke about his past. It reminded me of my own life, except for the part about growing up in a pack of coyotes. That part sounded amazing.

He rolled onto his side, and I turned with him so we were spooning. His arm wrapped around me, and I pressed back into him.

Waylan inhaled my hair and then there was definitely a response from his dick.

My heart sped up in anticipation of what might happen.

"What about you?" he murmured. "You didn't know any shifters?"

I shook my head. "Where I'm from, shifters aren't exactly welcome."

"I see. But one of your parents is a shifter, at least."

I was stunned when I realized what that meant, and I rolled over to face him. "You think?"

"Yeah, they have to be. You don't just become one."

That news rattled me. I thought about my parents and so many things fell into place. "It's my dad. It has to be him. He's so full of secrets, and he would be gone for days at a time. But he hates shifters."

"That's sad." Waylan's voice was soft and tender. "He must really hate himself."

"And he hates me. That's why I left, among other things."

"I'm sorry." He kissed my forehead.

There was a long silence between us while his hand gently caressed my side. I felt comfortable with him, but also the dreaminess of the afternoon was starting to feel a little bit alarming as the changes of the day began to catch up with me. "Waylan, what's happening?"

He drew back and looked into my eyes with a concerned expression. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, this." It was my turn to gesture at the air between us. "Do you feel it? This isn't normal. I mean…" I sat up and pulled the comforter to my chest. "I turned into a fox today! And I'm an omega and you're an alpha…and I think my shift has something to do with you."

He took a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah, it does have to do with me."

I was scared of what he'd say next. Somehow, I knew it was going to change my whole life. But I waited patiently, like I could hear him gathering up his thoughts.

Finally, he sat up next to me and smiled, though he looked sad.

Waylan explained that I was a halfbreed and got something called a latent gene, which meant that my shifter genes wouldn't present until some kind of event occurred.

I nodded, mostly understanding. "So…the event was meeting another shifter?"

Waylan looked down, as if it was hard to look at me. "Not exactly."

I was starting to feel nervous, thinking there must be something wrong with me. Why else would he be so hesitant to tell me? I'd always felt like there was something wrong with me, and now Waylan could see it too. I buried my face in my hands, bracing myself for whatever he was going to say next.

"See, a lot of times, latent shifters don't shift until… Well, until they're mated."

"What?" I looked at Waylan from between my fingers.

He was still looking down at his hands as they were tying the fringe of the comforter into little knots, then undoing them again.

"But I'm not mated to anyone, if that means what I think it means."

Waylan's face slowly turned red. Like the sky slowly brightening at dawn, the meaning of his words became clear to me. Waylan was my mate.

Finally, he turned and looked at me. The pain on his face made my chest ache as his eyes searched mine. "I'm sorry."

I couldn't understand why he would be sorry, unless he didn't want me. But some long-closed gate had busted wide open inside me, and I knew there was no going back. At the core of my being, I knew better than I'd known anything in my whole life that I was Waylan's mate.

And the idea that he might not want me felt like the end of the world.