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Sighing, he turned away from the window and returned to the mess on his desk. He had started half a dozen tasks but had yet to complete any, and his desk was littered with papers and files. A tug of warmth washed through him, and he closed his eyes and focused on sending the feeling back to Aaron.
This. This was the reason he was so disorganized. His constant thoughts about his mate distracted him from focusing on the jobs he was supposed to be doing. He’d thought being away from Aaron would give him some clarity, but he was still as confused and frustrated as he’d been when he’d left the pack house.
He liked the Alpha wolf. A lot. Was it love? He didn’t know. He knew he missed him, though, and he really needed to clear his desk so he could get back to Bakersfield. But he also needed to have a plan in place. He would quickly get bored if he couldn’t work, and there was only so much administration he could do remotely.
The sound of laughter had him looking toward the window, and without a second thought, he went to investigate. It surprised him to see Saint and Blake talking with Jodie and Murphy, their manager. He felt a little tug of jealousy at the way Saint and the panther shifter interacted. They had an easy camaraderie that spoke of mutual respect and friendship. Blake D’Eath was certainly more laid back than his twin, with an easy smile and an air of approachability that Rafe would never attain.
Marshall and the West Mill Pack’s head enforcer had come to a truce of sorts. He trusted Rafe to do his job and had promised not to step in and take over, although if Aaron’s safety, or that of his immediate family, was ever in jeopardy, then Marshall would not hesitate to pull rank as both a former CO and as the Alpha-Mate of the West Mill Pack.
Saint must have felt his gaze, because his best friend glanced up at him and grinned. Blake tracked the movement and sent Marshall a grin and a chin lift of his own. Marshall grinned back and raised a hand.
Saint spoke for a few more moments with Jodie and Murphy before beckoning to Blake to follow him up the stairs to the offices. Marshall turned and leaned against the window, waiting for them.
“Hey,” he greeted them as they strode into his office.
“So this is where the empire is run from?” Blake said, running an eye around the room. Marshall looked around, seeing the tired, battered desk and faded posters from early advertisements and competitions he and Saint had run over the years. It was a far cry from the quiet opulence of Aaron’s office.
“Not much of an empire,” Marshall replied. “At least not compared to what the West Mill Pack runs.”
Blake waved away his comment. “Yeah, but the pack has been established for nearly a hundred years. Of course it’s larger. But what you and Stripes have going here is pretty good.”
“Stripes?” Marshall couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s new nickname.
Saint rolled his eyes and shoved the panther shifter in the shoulder. “Yeah, Mr. Black Death here decided I needed a new nickname.”
“Really, like I haven’t heard that play on my name before? Where do you think my call sign came from?” Blake snorted. “You gotta do better than that.”
“As great as it is to hear you two getting on like a house on fire, why are you here?” Marshall interrupted their banter. He was all for being distracted, but if he didn’t get on with what he had to do, he wouldn’t be returning to Bakersfield any quicker.
“I’ve been thinking—“ Saint started as he dropped into the chair next to the desk.
Marshall gave a mock groan and slumped back into his chair.
“How many times has that phrase got us into trouble?”
Saint flicked a finger at him before leaning forward to rest his forearms on the messy top. “And sometimes, they’ve been the start of great things.” He nodded around the room. “Case in point.”
“Okay, yeah. I’ll give you that,” Marshall nodded. “So, oh wise one, what have you been thinking about?”
“You. Us. The future.”
“Umm, Saint, you do understand he’s the fated mate of Aaron, don’t you?” Blake said.
“Fuck off, D’Eath. Of course I do.” Saint returned his attention to Marshall. “I know you’re struggling with all of this. You’re loyal to a fault, and this whole crazy situation is tearing you in two.”
Marshall sighed and nodded. It was no use trying to hide anything from Saint, and vice versa. They knew each other too well.
“I’ve missed this. You know I have,” he told Saint.
“I know. Just like I know, walking away from it would gut you worse than Rafe on a killing spree.” Saint leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Fuck, it was bad enough just a few weeks ago when you were deciding to sign it all over to me so you could get your fucking affairs in order.”
Marshall nodded his agreement. He couldn’t deny it.
“In fact, I bet if you were settled in what path you were heading down, you’d be much more accepting of the feelings you’ve got for your mate.”
Saint’s words had both Marshall and Blake tensing.
“What does he mean?” Blake asked. “Are you actually questioning the bond you and Aaron have?”
