Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
“My family line connects our people to our land,” Jobe said measuredly, quietly. “I was destined for this and I would never consider another path.”
That explanation in many ways mirrored the reason Wesley had agreed to become Red River’s Alpha despite never before having stepped foot on their pack lands. He too was born to lead and had never considered veering from his life path. There was still the matter of Wesley being an Alpha and therefore never having expected a mate whereas Jobe should have been waiting for the person fated for him. But in the short time he had been speaking with Jobe, Wesley could already see the depth of his devotion and love for Red River, so maybe Jobe had given up on finding his mate and decided to instead do what was needed for the good of the pack.
A person with that depth of dedication and loyalty was rare and Wesley’s opinion of him rose even further. Maybe the fake mating wouldn’t be as bad as he had anticipated. At least, he would have honorable, quirky Jobe by his side as he learned about his unusual new pack. And even though he had been tired from the long day, the long drive, and the long struggle he’d had with his uncle and his now former pack, arousal had flooded Wesley at the first sight of Jobe’s smooth pale skin, his soft brown hair, and his soulful eyes, and his attraction for his new mate had only ramped up during their conversation. He needed to learn more about what Jobe expected from him personally, from their mating, but unless Red River’s view of mates held no similarity to the actual meaning of the word, having Jobe Root as a mate came with some very definite perks. No, the fake mating definitely wouldn’t be all bad.
Chapter 4
The shards of orange light sneaking in through the edges of the wood blinds meant morning had come so Jobe could finally give up his fruitless quest for sleep. It had been after two in the morning by the time he had shown Wesley to a guest bedroom, so Jobe should have been tired enough to drift away as soon as he slid into his own bed, but that juniper and pine scent had imbedded itself in his nostrils, and his body refused to rest without the source of the scent pressed close. He hadn’t missed the appreciation in Wesley’s gaze as he had looked Jobe over, or the scent of arousal that came with it, and he suspected he could have had Wesley in his bed with nothing more than an invitation. But while part of him craved his mate’s touch and physical affection, more of him knew how deeply he would be hurt if he shared himself with Wesley at night only to be rejected come morning.
But he can’t reject you now. He’s in Red River to stay.
Although the voice was in his own head, Jobe knew it was mistaken. Wesley Stone didn’t have to leave Red River to reject him. He didn’t even have to leave Jobe’s house, or for that matter, his bed. When it came to a mate, not being truly desired was a rejection sharp enough to eviscerate even the most hopeful heart, let alone one with a wound that no amount of time healed.
So Jobe had gone to bed alone, something so familiar it shouldn’t have hurt. Unfortunately, his heart hadn’t gotten the memo so he lay awake all night thinking of how he would react if his bedroom door opened and Wesley walked in, asking to be with him. Of course, Wesley hadn’t shown up at his door during the night and now it was morning and he had to spend the day with Wesley with his defenses compromised by a lack of sleep and an overabundance of shattered hope.
Lord, you’re melodramatic when you’re tired.
This time his internal voice was correct. He laughed at himself, grateful that he still had a sense of humor, and climbed out of bed. A hot shower and quality time outside breathing in Red River’s fresh air in both his forms would set him to rights. Then he’d be able to gracefully spend the day with Wesley, showing him the beauty of their pack and introducing him to the shifters who had been excitedly awaiting their new Alpha’s arrival.
Jobe sat on the grass behind his cabin, his legs crossed, each foot propped on the opposite thigh, and his wrists resting on his knees. When he heard Wesley’s approaching footsteps, he drew in a long, relaxing breath, opened his eyes, and said, “Good morning.”
“Did I interrupt your…” Wesley furrowed his eyebrows and flicked his gaze to Jobe’s folded legs before looking at his face. “Meditation?”
“No, I’m good.” Jobe smoothly rose to his feet and smiled. As he had hoped, his time connecting with the earth, wind, and trees had refreshed his spirit. Mother Nature’s joy at Wesley’s presence was palpable and feeling it course through him provided Jobe a much needed reminder of what fate intended. “I’ve been out here for a couple of hours already.”