“You don’t want to know.”
“Want to grab dinner and some fur after this and you can tell me all about it? Because now I really do need to know.” Steven did love his gossip.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Steven was a fox shifter and cute as could be. Unlike me, he could shift more freely where we lived because they assumed his beast lived there, even though his variety of fox wasn’t native to the area. People just saw a fox and assumed. No one saw a koala and did the same.
After work, we grabbed burgers at our favorite place and hit the state park together, using a trail entrance that had long been forgotten by the Parks and Rec department.
“You look like you’re upset about more than just the trip,” he said as we walked deeper into the woods, just in case anyone stumbled upon our trail.
“Yes. No. Yes, I don’t know. My koala’s being an ass lately.” Understatement of the year.
“When you say ‘lately,’ when do you mean?”
I described everything that was happening with him and how it went from bad to worse when we got home from my last trip, oversharing to the max.
“Did you ever think that maybe it might be connected to that phone call?” he asked and stopped walking. His fox was close to the surface, and my guess was he was ready for his own dinner.
“How could it be?”
“Look at the timing.” He then laid out his theory point by point.
“When did you get so smart?” He was right. It did all start spiraling from that.
It still didn’t make sense. It was a phone call that I made in my house. Sure, we were kind of flirty on it, but that was a human thing, not a shifter thing. What would that have to do with a koala?
“Well, all I’m saying is, one friend to another, what could it hurt doing a little furniture shopping?”
“What?” It took my brain a minute to catch up. “Hmm, maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it. But first, I have that tree to climb.”
There was no thinking about it. I was going to the store to meet Hari face to face. If Steven was wrong, no harm. If he was right? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but either which way, things with my koala couldn’t stay this way.
We tossed our clothes into a pile, and he took off running, probably to snag some prey. I headed straight for the trees and stayed there the entire time, wondering if it was true, if maybe that phone call was more than just a missed call. The longer I let my brain dwell on it, the more I started to believe it just might be.
5
HARI
“It’s been a week.”
“Boss, you need to journal.” Callum grinned. He was always teasing me about informing the world of my state of mind.
“Yeah, yeah.” I ignored him and inspected the work I’d been doing on the bedroom set. But I had paperwork to deal with, and Jackson was away again because one of the hotels had signed a contract. Making sure there were no hiccups needed his constant attention.
But instead of sitting at the computer glaring at a boring spreadsheet, I made coffee and stared out the window. Not that it was a great view, but it was mid-morning and the street was busy. I enjoyed people-watching, and my employees joked I was a middle-aged man in the body of a thirty-five year old.
Picking up my phone, I stared at Remy’s number. Not from the many times I’d called him, but when he returned my call, seven days, three hours, and twenty-six minutes ago. I hadn’t bothered to calculate the seconds, but if I was bored, I could, and Iwasbored with work and life right this minute.
I could call him, but he might be at work. He’d given no indication of what he did, but he might work from home because he’d called me in the late morning. Hmmm, but he said buying custom-made furniture wasn’t possible, so perhaps he was a struggling artist. Depending on what he did, I could offer him a job here.
Damn, I was letting my imagination run off and take flight. The guy could have a loving husband and a family. But his flirting suggested he was either single or he was looking for someone outside his relationship. And I couldn’t be a party to that.
But if I called him, I could determine which he was: a married man or a philanderer. I tapped the desk, wondering if I was overstepping. I’d called the wrong number and we’d chatted. There was no reason for me to get in touch with him again except he was in my head and I couldn’t get rid of him.
The day wore on, and the only time I was at peace was when I was working with wood. It was slow work that required all of my concentration. One distracted chisel stroke and the joints would be sloppy. And we were known for perfection.
By mid-afternoon I’d cleaned my hands and changed my shirt and jacket because the sawdust had worked its way onto my chest. Sandy left to do the school run, and I manned the showroom.
