Page 9 of Wrong Number, Right Gray Wolf

“No. Absolutely not. A lot of mistakes were made tonight, but none by him.”

After she was asleep and in bed, I looked at the outgoing calls. The number was still there. I wrote it down. I’d call him, not this second, but soon. I had things to say. So many things. I just didn’t know where to begin.

5

STEPHEN

“I can’t think about him.”

That was what I said, but images of him filled my head. His scent was on the jacket I’d been wearing this evening and now refused to take off, even though I was home and had showered.

Instead, I ran my mind over Posy’s sobs and her voice begging me to find her dad. My eyes filled with tears as I sank into an armchair and curled my feet under me. And when she appeared at the door in her nightgown and said I could come for pancakes, my heart beat so forcefully I winced.

But her thoughts returned to her father, the same alpha who was so muddleheaded his flat tire left his little girl at home by herself. He was my happy ever after except he wasn’t happy, at least not with me, and that was probably how he'd be forever after.

Though his animosity was probably because he was mated and happy and I was a fool fate had dumped at his doorstep. Him not wanting anything to do with me was expected if his mate was his one and only.

I tugged my hair. I shouldn’t have wished for that damned wrong number. That was tempting destiny and it had given me the finger.

You have to go back. My fox was pressing against me, making me nauseous.

No. I have to think of Posy. I’m not ruining her life.

My beast’s response was to have a fine layer of fur ripple over my arms.

Stop that, now.

He was so desperate for me and the wolf shifter to mate, one of his claws replaced my nail and ripped the armchair fabric.

My beast had never shifted without permission, not even a partial one. But my body was shaking, and he was clawing at my insides.

Be strong, I told my beast, but I didn’t take my own advice and I staggered to the bed and collapsed face down. My salty tears dampened the bedding as my beast whimpered and wailed inside me.

During the night, I tossed and turned, got up to get water, and stared at the moon, wondering if Posy’s dad was awake too. Or was he in his mate’s arms?

By five, I gave up on sleep and got ready for work. But as I strode out to the car, I remembered the meeting later and the report I’d left on the desk. I wasn’t thinking properly, and it was to do with the screw-up the universe had made.

Oh gods, let me get past this break-up stage. Posy’s dad and I hadn’t been together, so technically we didn’t break up, but that was what I was experiencing. My human friends were miserable for weeks or months when a relationship didn’t work out, and I was barely holding it together.

Somehow I got through the day, including the meeting. I kept my work expression in place until I wished Remy a pleasant evening and headed home. But I had no appetite and crawled into bed fully clothed. I had been tempted to drive past Posy’s house, and my fox told me to do it. But while on the surface it was harmless, if her dad saw me, he might consider it harassment.

But my resolve to stay away from their street evaporated by the next morning. I put on huge sunglasses, left here by my sister when she visited, and wished I could change cars, though it’d been dark and Posy’s dad might not have paid attention to the make and model.

My palms were wet, and I’d have to change my shirt when I got to Remy’s because I was sweating buckets. I hunkered down in the driver’s seat and didn’t look at the house, but damn, the alpha was coming out the front door with a bag of garbage. Shit, what if he recognized me?

Don’t look, don’t look, I repeated.

Stop the car, my beast yelled. You must talk to him.

I can’t.

As he opened the garbage can, he glanced up. Oh gods, he stared at the car as I zoomed past. When I checked the rearview mirror, he was still looking and clutching the bag of garbage.

After parking outside Remy’s, I rested my head on the steering wheel. I was bathed in yet more sweat, and a change of clothes wouldn’t mask the stench.

My boss made a face when I entered the office. I was always the first one here, but him flapping his hand and holding his nose suggested his reaction wasn’t surprise.

“Did you run here?”