Page 3 of The Reluctant Alpha

Danny

I watched in shock as Bayer shifted into a huge bear and ran, and then watched some more. In fact, I was struggling to take my eyes off him, until he disappeared from view, and then I sighed. Why had I turned into a grade-A super-bitch around him since everything had gone down with Emery?

But I knew, and I huffed in frustration. It wasn't just work, although that was a disaster. Emery’s replacement thought she was God and treated me like I was in some remake of Downton Abbey, and definitely the help. Not that she’d asked me to build up the fires in the drawing room, but she might as well have.

One of the reasons Emery and I worked so seamlessly was because I was good with one-on-one. I could spot the kids that might have challenges and work with them, leaving Emery to manage the class as a whole, which he excelled at. But no, Miss Anderson (and yes, I had to call her that. No first names for the likes of me) preferred it if she worked with the “gifted” students and I managed the rest. And because at five years old it was utterly ridiculous to put labels on any children, I usually had to manage around sixteen kids, and I was failing. Failing them and failing myself.

And I tried not to think about why I shouldn’t be surprised.

I really needed to speak to Em because I was one disastrous Monday morning from giving my two-weeks' notice, and I couldn’t afford that. Mom had her hands full with my sister Marianne and her twins. Dad had died ten years ago after an accident that his work refused to accept responsibility for, and Mom didn’t have the cash to fight it, so my pay was needed. My older brother by nearly three years, Shane, was a waste of space that Mom didn’t seem to see as a problem, so I was stuck.

And I was drowning.

“Danny?”

I turned to see Kasim and reddened at spacing out. The barrier was raised so I could just drive through, except I had nowhere to go.

I wished I’d gone with Bayer and not been such a dick. “Thanks,” I said and got back in my car and drove. I knew where Esther’s house was, and I knew where the packhouse was, and that was about it. I hadn’t seen Esther for weeks, as she’d been busy nursing her sister, but I supposed I could say hi, so I turned right to head in that direction.

Thirty minutes later, clutching a raspberry leaf tea, I was sitting watching the sun go down, feeling guilty because Estrelle had greeted me shyly and then made her escape. When Esther came back out with the tea, I apologized. “I didn’t mean to make her feel like she should go.”

Esther chuckled. “Actually, this is good. She needs interaction with strangers and you, being human, is even better.”

“Oh,” I said, cheering up a little. “I originally came to see Em,” and then for some stupid reason I blushed a fire-engine red, which was ridiculous because it was sex, and I hadn’t been embarrassed about that since I was thirteen and told my mom I had a crush on the football coach. I hated sports—any sports—because sweaty and my complexion just didn’t gel, but I could appreciate it in others, and for a hot minute when I was at school, I’d contemplated cheerleading tryouts so I could be near the football coach.

But there was only one way I would be that flexible, and I didn’t do voyeurism.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Esther said and sounded pleased, but there was no way I was going to admit what I’d said to Bayer.

“So, another baby, huh?” I blurted, because in my head Esther was a grandma, and grandmas always wanted to talk about babies.

She chuckled. “Heat doesn't always equal babies.” She leaned forward. “Is it something I can help with?”

Not on your life.

I waved a hand. “Just something I wanted to chat with Em about. No big deal.”

Esther nodded as if she agreed. I took a small breath that stalled when she hit me with her next statement. “People discover their mates in different ways. Sometimes,” she carried on as if she were just shooting the breeze, “the thought is so shocking they immediately reject it.”

I wasn’t sure what sort of grandma stunt she was trying to pull, so I waited it out. I just wanted to talk to Em. Gemma was away with her band boyfriend for the weekend, and to be honest, I was all out of fucks. Literally. Because it had been months, and I hadn’t had such a dry spell since twelfth grade. My go-to was Midnight over in Ellensburg, but with the stress over my job, I hadn’t even gone there.

I was sick of feeling sorry for myself and sick of feeling sorry. No, wait, that made no sense. I was sick of feeling sorry for myself and annoyed? Resentful? Because…crap. I didn’t know. Em generally helped me work it out, or Gemma. I always had big feelings, and sometimes they got the better of me. I couldn’t feel anything in a small way. Disappointments didn’t happen; they were always a disaster. I didn’t like people; I either loved them or hated them. If I was ambivalent, I could ignore them, but that didn’t happen very often.

“Emery will be ready to talk to you by Sunday night. His heat came on Monday, so I understand, but Phoenix isn’t in rut anymore.” Esther said it helpfully and waited for a response. Like sex was always something I talked to a grandma about. “How is work? It must be strange being at school without Emery.”

I nodded, and for some ridiculous reason, my eyes smarted and I had to blink a few times. Easter was only two weeks away, even though it was early this year, but at the rate I was going, I wouldn't last the full year.

And what was I going to do on Easter? Mom would have everyone there for dinner and expect me, but I didn’t want to be there. I couldn’t. Not if I was going to give my notice. Our family’s money situation meant everything was a huge mess.

“Em’s replacement is a nightmare and she’s getting worse.” I admitted then stood because I was embarrassed, and couldn’t stay all evening. It was only Friday night, and I couldn’t just hang around until Sunday. If Em wasn’t doing the sex thing, he’d invite me for the weekend, but I couldn’t go near him, as Phoenix was likely to try to kill me. Maybe. I didn’t know, but I wasn’t about to yuck on someone’s yum.

Esther stood as well and curled her arms around me and hugged me. For a long moment I just stood there, until I decided to be a grown-up—overrated but whatever—and told her I’d be back next week.

I trudged to my car, which was on its last legs, and got in. It took a few attempts to start, which made me feel even worse. I’d driven Mom’s car for the last two years until Marianne came home and she needed it for the twins. And then for a while, Emery picked me up. With his departure, I finally had to get my own. My Honda Civic was twenty-four years old and desperately needed two new tires, had no working AC, and only started reluctantly. It had a list as long as my arm of things that needed repairing, but I knew at just over 232,000 miles, none of them were worth it. I’d ignored the warning lights on the dash for so long I’d almost forgotten they were there. I needed a newer car, but as I was likely to lose my job, if I didn’t hand my notice in first, I was screwed.

The car spat and started, and I thanked whatever higher power was listening. I knew I needed to just head home. If Gemma had been home, we could have shared a cheap bottle of wine, or if she had to work in her family’s bar, I could trade collecting glasses for free drinks.

And crap, it had started raining.