“Arlo’s a—a friend,” she said.
Thank you, Arlo thought. He knew some people might find being called a “friend” a slap in the face, but for him, it was a bright light of hope.
Maybe he still had a chance to make things right.
“Sure, fine, whatever.” Jacqueline’s ex—Derek, he remembered now—turned back to Jacqueline. “Look, this is getting ridiculous. Tell your friend to come back another time. What I’ve got to say is importan
t.”
Arlo’s hackles rose. His wolf was growling, and it was all he could do to keep himself from growling, too.
Jacqueline made an exasperated noise. “Right. This is important.”
“That’s what I said.” Derek jerked his chin towards the street. “Go on, you heard her. This isn’t a good time for an impromptu visit.”
“Oh, for—do you even hear yourself?”
Derek started forward and found Jacqueline standing in front of him, with her feet planted and her arms crossed.
“Get out of the way, Jackie,” Derek said, his voice dripping patience.
Arlo stepped forward. If this man thought he could speak to Jacqueline that way in her own house—
“I’m not letting you in, Derek. I said that already. You just didn’t listen. You never—” Jacqueline pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I need to—to talk to Arlo. That’s important. Whatever you’re here for can wait.”
Derek spluttered. Jacqueline ignored him and held the door for Arlo.
Arlo’s nose wrinkled as he went inside. The house smelled strongly of disinfectant, but it wasn’t just that.
He couldn’t sense Jacqueline’s touch anywhere.
It was a nice house, what he could see of it. Clean neutral carpets, walls papered with some sort of tiny flower pattern. Framed pictures with watercolors of other, bigger flowers. Halfway down the hall was an end-table covered in the sort of knick-knacks that Mrs. Hanson at the bed-and-breakfast loved to collect.
It was nice. But fussy. Which wasn’t a word he associated with Jacqueline.
“Arlo.”
The front door clicked shut, with Derek on the other side of it. Jacqueline sighed and Arlo heard the weight of years of unhappiness in it.
She was wearing the same borrowed shirt and jeans she’d left Hideaway Cove in, but they were dirty. The front of her shirt was patchy with sweat. Arlo ached to hold her.
“I’m sorry about Derek,” she said. “He’s… well. I don’t know if it’s tenacity or what it is, but odds are he’ll have convinced himself in ten minutes that I don’t know what I’m talking about and obviously I meant to let him in, not you.”
She paused, clicked her fingers and turned back to the door. Arlo heard the lock turn.
“That should buy us some time,” she muttered.
She didn’t turn back. Arlo watched her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath.
“Let me start,” he said, and she raised her hands.
“No. I need to say this.” She turned around and lifted her eyes to meet his. “You want a pack. A—a family. And I can’t have kids.”
“I know.”
Her eyes widened and Arlo reached out to touch her shoulder. She leaned into his touch, so subtly he wondered if she knew she was doing it.
“I put it all together after you left. I’m so sorry for what I said, Jacqueline. God, I was so twisted up in my own past I didn’t even think how that might sound.” Please believe me, he added silently. “You’re my pack. You’re everything I need.”