Page 11 of Lonely Alpha

Hopefully never to see William again.

Chapter Ten

William

Dinner was delicious, but the tender pasta and thick, creamy sauce were wasted on my tongue. Because there was no misidentification on my part. The other guest at the Bearclaw this weekend, the male Franklin had brought to meet me, the “guaranteed mate” of story and fable, was Lars.

The wolf who’d abandoned me while I was serving our country.

And he looked incredible. I knew my time away had aged me a bit, especially all the days in the desert where just because I was indoors didn’t mean the air wasn’t dry and every time I went outside, the sun beat down on my skin. But Lars had not had that experience, and his face looked almost the same as when I last saw him. My fingers itched to reach across the table and touch his. My heart beat in slow, painful thuds.

“Beverage?” Franklin came in with a pitcher of pale-amber tea with lemon slices floating among the clinking ice cubes. “It’s fresh brewed. I hate the powdered stuff.”

“Thank you.” I held up my glass, and he poured it within a half inch of the top. Taking a sip, I tasted more than just tea. “What’s in this?” I drank more, feeing the cool liquid ease my tension enough to be interested in eating more of dinner.

“Herbs from the garden, Ceylon tea, a splash of agave syrup. And a squeeze of fresh Meyer lemon juice.” He held the pitcher toward Lars who lifted his glass.

“Yes please.” When it was full, Lars set it down by his plate and went back to eating. The alpha didn’t seem to be slowed down by my presence. He really had lost interest. I knew that, of course, but seeing it right in front of me had a sharp sting.

Franklin set the pitcher near the serving dishes. “Just help yourselves.” He took a seat at the end of the table and reached for the salad. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here.” Since he lived alone and had no live-in help, I assumed it was just an idiomatic use of “we” or maybe he meant in the area. It was pretty rural, and those types of places were not known for their formality. Either way suited me. My pack rearing and years in the military taught me how much I preferred things to be casual.

“Thank you, Franklin.” I eyed the chicken platter, which was just far enough away to be out of polite reaching distance. On Lars’ side of the table. He’d managed not to say a word to me, so far, but after the refreshing tea cleared my palate, my hunger—and annoyance—surpassed my reticence to speak. “Pass the chicken, please, L-Lars.” And didn’t that stammer make me sound cool and confident? Dammit!

“Sure.” He handed me the platter and went back to his own meal. Determined to make the best of this one evening, I peered at Lars from under my eyelashes. I was so angry but stunned as well. I’d gone through all the official stages of grief and a few more I came up with myself based on personal circumstances.

Mail call was a little different these days. Somehow when I signed up, I expected a situation like an old movie or maybeMashwith everyone lined up and a guy with a giant duffel handing out packages. Maybe it was like that somewhere, but no place where I was deployed, thank all the Gods and Goddesses in the pantheons. Because watching all my friends get packages from their sweethearts right out in public like that would have sucked even harder than the policy where we picked them up from the base post office. I did get packages from time to time from my dads and emails from friends, but although I appreciated them very much, they weren’t what I was watching for.

At that time, I would have given all that my life was worth to have a meal like this with him right across the table from me. But now? It was not enough and yet too much. How could we just sit here and eat pasta and chicken and salad and drink iced tea as if it was totally normal when we must have had things to say to one another.

And of course, with Franklin right here, that would be inappropriate, but did Lars even want to talk? I wasn’t sure. There was nothing he could say to undo the things that had happened between us. Or hadn’t.

“Dessert?” Franklin stood and went into the kitchen again, returning with a cake that had to be at least three layers high. He cut into it without us saying whether we wanted it or not, but even with the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, I wasn’t turning down chocolate of any kind. “It’s dark-chocolate cake with bittersweet ganache and Chantilly cream. I hope you like chocolate?”

We both nodded like a couple of bobbleheads, and I said, “Yes, it’s our favorite.”

Our!I said that as if we were a couple. Uck. What would Lars think? And why did I care what he thought? Maybe he didn’t even like chocolate anymore.

Of course, once he’d devoured two large slices, that question was answered. I only ate one. Because I was upset and wanted that clear.

Franklin refused any help with the dishes, but he did mention that the cake and other leftovers would be in the kitchen and that we could help ourselves if we got “peckish” later. He’d tried to start conversations all through the meal, and I wanted to be polite, but the whole situation was too surreal.

Chapter Eleven

Lars

Goddess bless him, Franklin tried his best. He tried all kinds of ways to get us to engage in conversation with each other, but we answered Franklin’s questions and prompts with kindness but never directly spoke to each other.

Except the time William asked me to pass the chicken.

“How about the two of you have a night stroll out back while I clean up. It’s a beautiful night.”

When neither of us answered, he started picking up dishes. We both helped but were careful not to touch each other. In fact, both of us walked circles around the table, avoiding the other.

“Go on now. Out of my hair. I have a way I do dishes and no one else can help.”

We obeyed even though it was clear neither of us wanted anything to do with a stroll together or even breathing the same air.

As soon as we stepped down the back steps and onto the grass, someone turned on a ton of twinkly lights that lit up the beauty of the property in a new way. It was like the place got more lovely the longer I stayed here.

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