Page 44 of Her Second-Hand Mate

The room was too bright. It took me a moment to realize that everything outside was white. Finally, snow! My wolf was jumping up and down at the prospect of playing in it with hermate, and it made me smile. Those two were what Anthony referred to as “couple goals.” I sometimes wondered where he got all these expressions from, but mostly, I was busy laughing at his antics.

It would be nice to laugh today. Isaac and I were turning 23. On our birthday last year, I woke up in my room in my father’s house in Utah, wondering what my next birthday would be like – whether I’d be somewhere else, whether I’d be mated, what my life would look like.

My life was both better and worse than I’d imagined it, and that was messing with my head. I heard Dominic moving downstairs, and it surprised me since it was already 10.

There was a bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island, and it was beautiful.

“Happy birthday,” he said, not meeting my eyes.

What was he uncomfortable about?

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“The flowers are for you,” he jerked his head at them really romantically.

I pressed my lips together in order not to laugh.

“I also got you a loom and different kids of thread. I didn’t know what you use so the lady at the store suggested different things,” he continued.

“A loom?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.

“Yeah,” he still wasn’t meeting my eyes. “For your rugs and shit,” he said, and I automatically warned, like I would Isaiah, “Language, please.”

He grinned like it was the funniest thing on earth, “Sorry.”

“Well, thank you. I do like weaving and I’ve been missing it. This is very thoughtful, Dominic, thank you,” I said, and I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t know how.

Luckily, he hugged me first.

“You’re welcome. Do you have any plans today?”

“Yeah, I’m having lunch with Isaac in the city, and then the females are coming over for cake later.”

“Like a party?” he asked, and I couldn’t contain the laugh that burst out of me.

“Only if sitting and eating cake is considered a party.”

“Did you two have big birthday parties growing up?” he asked, still holding my waist.

My heart was beating against his chest.

“Not really. The pack would sometimes celebrate Isaac’s, and Nana would always make a cake for us, but never a full-on party. What about you?”

“Before Dad died, yeah. After that, not so much.”

“That must have been hard,” I sympathized.

“I gotta get to work now,” he said and broke the moment. “Have fun today,” he said and gave me a brief kiss on the lips before leaving.

Happy birthday to me.

???

The two dozen zucchini muffins and three dozen carrot cupcakes were cooling in the living room, two of the five lasagnas were in the oven, the homemade granola was in ten glass jars on the kitchen island, the 10-quart crock-pot was filled with fragrant venison stew, and every surface in the house was litteredwith freezer-friendly silicone bags and glass storage containers waiting to be filled. Meanwhile, I was sitting on the floor, filling small paper bags with a mixture of nuts and dried fruits.

“What's all this?” Dominic inquired, standing in the doorway.

He was home too early for a Friday.

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