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“Of course.” She gave me a tiny but genuine smile. “If you’re ever comfortable with it, we’d love to have you over for dinner sometime.”
Dammit, I couldn’t turn that one down either.
“Okay,” I nodded.
“Just text me if that’s something you’re alright with, and we’ll set it up. At your house, if you’re more comfortable there.”
Wow.
She really wanted to have dinner with me.
That was odd to me, after so much time alone.
I nodded again. “I will.”
The small smile the words put on her face made me decide to follow through with the promise.
It meant a lot to her, and I wouldn’t take that from her.
Turning, I headed toward the door. My eyes caught on a plaque beside the exit.
I stopped, my gaze scanning the words and pictures.
Oscar Ryder Hughes.
Always loved, and never forgotten.
The pictures were a collage of Ryder on his own, and him with Rocco. They were both grinning massively in every photo, with so much light in their eyes it was insane.
Neither of them had looked like that when I saw them. They were gorgeous, and much bigger than they looked in the photos, but also, sad. And dark.
“I’m sure you’ve heard what happened to my older son by now,” Rocco’s mom said, quietly.
“I’ve heard his passing mentioned many times, but I’m not one to push someone for details they don’t want to share.” I kept my voice as low as hers had been.
She nodded. “He was a sigma. Hunted his mate for an entire year. Anastasia—she was rude, and cruel. Insulted the wolf constantly, reminding him how he’d ruined her life and how much she hated him every damned day. I don’t think he would’ve ever bitten her—but then they got in a car crash. She had been drinking, and wrapped the vehicle around a tree. Werewolves heal almost instantly, but she was still human, and was dying. And Oscar’s wolf reacted. He bit her, she changed, and then her wolf rejected his. She’ll find another mate eventually, but Oscar… male werewolves don’t survive without mates long enough to have that option. They lose their minds either instantly, or over time.” Her voice grew softer and softer as she spoke.
My throat swelled.
It had caught me off guard when she called him Oscar, but the plaque made it pretty clear why. Maybe he had gone by his first name before, and needed a change after everything.
I didn’t understand why he hadn’t told his mother that he was alive, though. The woman was absolutely heartbroken; why let her remain in pain?
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured.
“I am too.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.
A moment later, she wiped beneath her eyes and turned toward me with a fraction of a smile. “I need to start on inventory, but don’t forget to let us know what you decide. Both about the job, and dinner.”
I gave her a quick smile. “I will.”
She gave Rocky a hesitant smile of his own. “Be good to your mate. And don’t forget to show her where your money is stashed.”
The wolf licked my arm, and then nodded.
Rocky and I slipped out of the store, heading back in the direction of Rocco’s house. The walk was pretty long at that point, at least an hour. By the time we got back to Rocco’s place, I was dripping in sweat and completely exhausted. It was the middle of the afternoon, though, so I couldn’t exactly call it a night and crash.
After grabbing a clean set of clothes, I glanced at Ryder’s room—the door was open, and clearly empty, so he must’ve gone somewhere—and stepped into the bathroom.
