Page 23 of Off the Post

The single word carries with it a plethora of meanings.

Oh, I didn’t realize I had oil on my face.

Oh, this moment feels big to me. Does it to you, too?

Oh, I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what to do with that.

Oh, this is so bad. I need to keep a professional distance.

Oh, I really want you to kiss me right now. Damn the consequences.

Oh, I can’t get involved with a married man.

As the thoughts twirl in a chaotic mess in my head, fueled by my confusion over this strange attraction and its potency that blocks out everything around us, our moment is suddenly interrupted by the sound of children’s laughter.

And I take a giant step backward, remembering where we are and who we are.

“Uncle Soren! We’re back!”

Our heads whirl in the direction of the approaching intrusion. Heinrich barrels toward us, carrying a bag of fast food clutched in his hand. A giant smile accompanies his ecstatic announcement.

“We brought poutine fries and burgers from the Burger Shack,” he exclaims. The scent of greasy fries makes my mouth water and my stomach rumble with hunger, reminding me that I’ve only eaten a banana so far today. “Mutti bought some for you too, Onkel.”

It’s adorable to hear him vacillate between English and German as he speaks with Soren. His excitement is palpable, and it has a way of changing Soren’s whole demeanor.

Suddenly, my brain fog lifts from the heady cloud I’d been in as Heinrich’s greeting registers clearly for the first time in my head.

He said Uncle Soren. Not Father. Not Dad. Uncle.

I look between Soren and the young boy. There are similarities in their features. They both have blond hair, although Soren’s is a little darker than the boy’s, a dimple in the side of their chins, and square jawlines. They absolutely could be father and son.

But that’s where the familial similarities end. Where the boy is all smiles and innocent joy, Soren is guarded and intense.

Even with the mercurial moods I’ve witnessed, there’s still something about The Wolf that makes my insides spasm with attraction.

A noticeable shift occurs when Anna glides in like some ethereal being, her beautiful daughter in tow.

Anna smiles apologetically and she places a hand over her heart. “I am so sorry we’ve interrupted, but Heinrich was eager to share his poutine. Do you mind if we sit back and watch?”

Soren’s gaze snags mine, looking for a response, and I shrug. “It’s totally up to you. As long as you all remain behind the photographer, it should be fine. We’re just about ready to get things started.”

“Gut,” Soren says with a curt nod. His eyes travel to my hands, then down to his chest, and back up again. They twinkle with humor. “Am I lubed up enough for you?”

I cough, dipping my chin as cheeks flush hot. Then I look to where Joelle is testing her lighting.

“If not, I’ve got you covered. I am now an expert on pre-photo oil application.” I waggle the bottle of oil in the air with a flourish.

“Ja, you are very gut.”

Soren’s voice sounds neutral enough, but I detect a slight hint of flirtation there. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

Now that I know he’s not married to Anna, I can allow myself just a little bit more freedom to flirt, even if it doesn’t lead to anything more than that.

I give a slight curtsy.

“It must’ve been all those classes I took in college on how to oil up a goalie slash hot model.”

He quirks an eyebrow, and I want to disappear into the floor when I realize what I said.