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“Is it because I’m a woman?”
He frowned. “You assume misogyny goes hand in hand with full furry? It’s because you’re not a member of the pack, Lorelei.”
“Fine. You’re not sexist.” I waved a hand at him. “Just get on with it.”
West pulled out his phone. “Just to be clear, I’m not doing this because you told me to. I’m doing it because I want to.”
I bit back a smile. “Duly noted.”
He asked for the chief and paced the length of the floor while he waited. “Hey, it’s West,” he finally said. “Got a favor.” He asked her to run a background check on Addison Gray. “That’s the one. Did he introduce you?”
I continued to listen to the one-sided conversation. I wished I’d asked him to put her on speaker, but I had a feeling he would’ve refused. West had trust issues, that much was obvious.
“Great,” he said. “Thanks. I owe you a beer.” He smiled at the phone. “Okay, two. I can’t make Tuesday. How about Thursday?”
He almost seemed like a different person talking to Chief Garcia. He certainly didn’t seem that cheerful when he spoke to me. I was a chore, whereas the chief was an absolute delight.
He hung up and tucked his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “No criminal record. Weirdly minimal information. The chief said it’s almost as if she were born yesterday.”
“Born yesterday or born before computers existed. Could go either way.”
“Or the name Addison Gray was only recently invented. That seems more logical.”
It did, except I knew that logic didn’t always factor into situations like this. My existence made no sense. I was a complete anomaly, yet here I was.
“You two sounded chummy,” I commented. “I didn’t realize you were that close.”
“We have a close working relationship.”
“You don’t work for the police department, and she doesn’t know about the pack.”
“Maybe not, but we interact regularly in connection with community matters. She’s devoted to this town, as am I.”
Somebody seemed overly fond of the chief. “You know you’re not her type, right?”
He shook his head. “Didn’t you ever learn that men and women can be friends?”
“I’m well aware. I assumed you were on the hunt for a mate. You’re a burly male with an acceptable face. She-wolves should be lining up outside your trailer for a chance with the alpha bachelor.”
He scratched behind his ear. “An acceptable face? Now don’t you start gushing over me.”
“Don’t let it go to your acceptable head.”
“If you really want to know, there are complications attached to choosing a mate.”
“Let me guess.” I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “You snore. You don’t share food. You hog the covers.”
“I absolutely share food. I wouldn’t be a good alpha if I didn’t.”
Which means the other two guesses were likely accurate. “Seriously, West. You seem like a popular guy. What could be so complicated that it hinders your marital prospects?”
He observed me, as though contemplating whether I was worthy of this conversation. Finally he said, “I wasn’t born into the Arrowhead Pack. I joined later, and then I took over as alpha.”
I remembered. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. The fact is that I was born somewhere else. Sure, I’ve got werewolf blood, but it isn’t Arrowhead blood. This pack has been here for centuries.”
I had a feeling the ‘why’ mattered more than he was willing to admit. “And you’ve been leading this ancient pack for years. They’ve clearly accepted you. Why would they not accept whichever mate you choose?”
