“Okay.” Bash swallowed hard and pulled the folded-up flyer from his back pocket. “There’s this party at Sammy’s, and I know you said it isn’t your scene, but I was wondering if you wanted to go. As friends.” The last part was bitter in his mouth, but he was fishing, and a good fisherman was gentle with the lure.
“Oh. Well, what kind of party is it?”
“My friends are throwing it for me, so I can find a mate.”
“A mate?” she asked, her voice sparking with shock.
“Yes. I’ve been ready for one for a long time but girls in the trailer park was against the rules for a long time. My alpha just lifted the rules, so I’m lookin’.”
“You want a mate?” she whispered.
“Of course. I want a lady and cubs and a little family to fit in with my big family, the Boarlanders. The party could be fun. Kirk told me the top three contestants that I choose drink for free, and I already pick you, so you wouldn’t have to buy a single drink. I know you aren’t wanting to be a mate, but we could have some fun. You could help me pick a good girl to take out.”
There was something odd in her voice when she asked, “Will you pick a mate that night?”
“No, no. Kirk says I need to take my time. I need someone who eases the hurt in my chest like you do.”
Emerson was quiet for a long time, and just as he was about to ask if she was still there, she asked, “What should I wear?”
“Anything. You would look pretty in a T-shirt or a dress or pajamas or naked.”
Emerson gave off another soft giggle, and he sighed and leaned back in his office chair, reveling in the sound of her happiness.
“Okay, I’ll go. What time is your party?”
“It’s Wednesday at seven o’clock. I can pick you up if you want.”
“Oh, Wednesday. Well, I’m on a deadline for work so I might show up a little later. Is that okay?”
Disappointment clogged Bash’s throat for a minute, but he couldn’t just nod. She wouldn’t see it through the phone. He cleared his throat and told her, “Yeah, that’ll be fine. I’ll put your name on the list at the door, so don’t wait in line. Just go straight to the front and tell Ray your name.”
“Whoa, like a VIP? That’s fancy, Bash.”
He switched the phone to his other ear and rocked gently in the chair, his reflection on the computer screen grinning big. He liked the way she said his name. “Yeah, super fancy. Good luck with your deadline. We have deadline numbers here, and they suck to hit.”
“Thanks, I need it. This article needs a lot of work.”
Her voice had gone all dark and unhappy, and he wondered what it was about, but he didn’t know the rule about what was appropriate to ask and what wasn’t. He didn’t want to scare her off with his bad manners, so instead he said, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me either. I promise I’ll help you find a good mate.”
The smile fell off his face in the reflection. “You’re a good friend. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
“Okay. Bye, Bash.”
“Bye, Emerson.”
He hung up the phone and stared at the screen until the glow went black.
He should feel happy right now after talking to her for so long, but instead, the ache was back.
Chapter Four
The past two days had gone by at a snail’s pace. For one, Bartleby had fought every single attempt of hers to tame down his hate-filled article against shifters, and two, she had counted down each dragging hour until tonight when she would get to see Bash again.
As much as she tried to fight the thought, she had a massive crush on him, but the same thing had happened last time she was this close to her artificial insemination appointment. She’d backed off before, cancelled it for a guy, and he’d been a huge waste of time that spanned two years.
When the nurse at the woman’s clinic called her name, Emerson blew out a steadying breath and stood. With a polite smile, she passed the nurse and made her way to room three as instructed. Since she’d been tested and deemed fertile, she’d gotten out of the rigorous medications that would force her ovulation, which was saving her money, but it also meant she had to nail down exactly when her ovulation would happen this month. She’d been peeing on ovulation tester sticks and doing blood work all week, and this morning Dr. Mallory had called her in for a last-minute appointment.
When the stately redhead in the white doctor’s coat came in staring at her clipboard, Emerson’s pulse kicked up like a racehorse out of the gate.
“Okay, I wanted to bring you in here before the procedure to prep you for what to expect.” Dr. Mallory sat in her rolling chair and smiled brightly. “We got confirmation that your sperm sample has been ordered, tested, and is en route here, and from your bloodwork, I think we will be able to inseminate you on Friday.”