Chapter 27
Indoor Picnic
JOHANNA
My head is awhirl with all the things I’ve learned in the last hour.
There’s no time to take it all in, for there’s no stopping this.
I have to ride on through, soak up every moment, and remember every word and expression on Dan’s face and the way he clings to me in hopes that I can make it all make sense later.
It doesn’t seem real that I’m here with Dan, after all this time.
Not just that we’re in a room together, but that this is our third encounter in a week.
This is an older, quieter version of the man I fell in love with and lost—gave up—decades ago, and each meeting shows me glimmers of who he was along with someone new I want to know.
I have Max to thank for it, somehow, someway, but that’s something else I have to set aside. If I dwell on it too much, I’ll miss the unexpected joy of this moment.
My whole body tingles, nerves a-jangle. I never would’ve imagined a day would come when Dan would want to pack up with me enough to overcome hurdles like this.
After all, packing up was what we broke up over in the first place—such a twisted tale, now far in our past, though not so far that the tangles might not still snare us.
Then, there’s Corin’s role in setting up today’s lunch, and another with Nathan, something else to tease out, but not now.
I want to enjoy being with the Dan of today, who brought my favorites from years ago even tracking down the godawful sugary soda thing I used to consume, which I’ve almost never seen in grocery stores these days.
After drinking one can, I wonder what my younger self was thinking, though that doesn’t stop me from starting on the second.
The sugar rush helps push away all the stuff I don’t want to consider yet.
On the other hand, I’m not so lost to the pleasure of Dan’s presence as to let his almost-bowing out go unaddressed.
“What changed your mind?” I ask, careful to keep my tone even. The woodsmoke element in his scent grows strong enough even I can’t miss it.
“The little things.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “My son stopped by to raid my fridge and noticed the salads and soda, most of which are not things usually found in my house.”
He pulls out his phone, flips through photos, and hands it over. “This is Derrick and Deborah, on the first day of school this past August. They’re both elementary-school teachers.”
I’m usually a sucker for photos of kids and pets, but the fond expression on Dan’s face—so similar to Corin’s love for his children—has me all the more eager to see them.
The heads and shoulders of a young woman and man in their twenties fill the rectangular screen, still warm from Dan’s grip.
They have something of his features, though their coloration is tawny with ochre undertones, rather than his fawn.
A hairclip with a blue feather pulls back the woman’s long hair on one side.
The young man also has long hair spilling over one shoulder, and his tie features a feather pattern.
There’s laughter and love in their smiles, but ...
“Your son looks a bit more carefree than your daughter.”
“Oh, yes—I’ve never caught her raiding my fridge,” he chuckles, “I think she used to, because sometimes things that Derrick would never eat would disappear, but if so, she replaced them after, because things also appeared that I hadn’t bought.
Dan turns more serious as he strokes the front of the phone before tucking it back away.
“At any rate, last night, Derrick complimented me on getting out of my ‘rut’—meaning, of course, the arrow-straight trench left by a wheel that I’ve been walking in ever since he was little, not the ‘overwhelming need to mate rut’ of a stag or unsuppressed alpha. ”
“Of course.” I study him again, imagining the joyful, clumsy young man I knew making himself smaller, narrower, until his life turned into a path too deep to easily get out of.
Living as a beta while being an alpha I had no problems with—after all, I was a beta living a beta life, and it was a fine thing—as long as he chose it because it was what he wanted.
But it seemed more that he’d cribbed and confined himself out of fear.
“I could have accused him of still being in something of a rut himself, since he’s twenty-seven and gainfully employed, yet still raiding my fridge, but his words hit me hard.
” Dan’s still riding his train of thought.
“More, even, than if they’d come from his sister, because Deborah has been clear with me for years that she thinks I should get out more and get of a life, that I’ve gotten myself stuck and should try something different now and then. ”
“Is she an alpha?” She sounded dominant enough for one, and I rather wanted to meet her—both of them, for that matter.
“No, they’re both betas, like their mother.
” Dan shakes his head and sighs. “Derrick had never said anything in that vein before, always teasing Deborah that she’s got enough life going on for her and me combined.
Yet, last night, he was pleased to see that I was preparing a picnic and planning a date.
And I wanted to be the father he praised, daring enough to push through fear in pursuit of a fair beta. ”
The way his gaze rests on me sends ripples of warmth through my body, that and the compliment, along with his willingness to be open and honest about the unease caused by doing something different.
“I’d like to think I might’ve made the same decision without his push, but I can’t be sure,” he admits. “At any rate, between him pushing and you pulling—whether you meant it or not—I’m here, getting out of my comfortable little bubble.”
“Is it worth it?” I believe I know the answer, but I want to hear him say it.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m glad you did.” I’m a beta, not a creature of instinct like the trio of alphas I’ve somehow hooked into exploring packing up with me, but his honesty spurs me to act on the sudden urge flowing through me.
I cup the sides of Dan’s face. His skin is mostly smooth, with only the faintest hint of stubble, suggesting he shaved before coming. I lean in slowly, leaving time for him to pull back.
He doesn’t. His scent grows stronger, wrapping me in a fantasy of a magical moonlit forest. A soft growl escapes him before our lips meet for the first time in decades.
I want more, and it’s clear he does too. There’s no missing the bulge in his pants or the surge in his scent as it fills the room, giving the otherwise sedate meal a romantic midnight aura.
We resist, both pulling back before our kisses grow too heated.
Having only just reconnected, it’s better not to rush.
We need to adjust to the new possibilities, discover who we are now versus then.
He’s already shared so much that gives me grounds for hope and some for concern, and I need to time to balance his revelations.
Plus, this is my place of work, and I have a hundred things needing to get done. No doubt he’ll face a similar pile when he leaves. Lunch can only last so long.
Still, we indulge in so many kisses, I lose count of the total as we share food and stories of our lives apart—and still more soft, easy brushes of lips against lips as we pack the basket back up.
My body still hums from this morning’s indulgence with Corin.
A few kisses from Dan had sufficed to bring me back to a warm, flush level of arousal.
All the other kisses and a few caresses snuck in here and there only added fuel to the fire.
Without touching my face, I can feel how flushed I must be.
It adds up to riding a bit closer to the edge than I’d expected for today, though I’m in no danger of going over.
Suddenly Corin’s comment this morning about sauce for the gander being sauce for the goose takes on new meaning. He wasn’t referring to our agreement that neither would bring ourselves to climax during the day, but warning me not to go too far with Dan—who, Corin knew, was bringing me lunch.
The sneaky wretch!
Rather than ushering Dan directly out, I pause by the closed door to Corin’s office. Muffled sound of voices on the other side indicate that Corin’s still there, probably with Nathan. Hopefully with Nathan, though I’m minded to burst in regardless.
“You say Corin told you I wasn’t eating enough and you should feed me?” I ask.
Dan nods.
Another crime on Corin’s head. True, I’d admitted to Corin in a moment of madness early in Max’s illness, that I was having trouble remembering to eat and agreed that he could nudge me if he thought I needed it. But that was him and then, not blanket permission to extend the privilege to others.
He clearly needs to be reminded that he doesn’t control me.
“I think I’ll give him a little of his own back. Care to stand witness?”
Dan brushes my lips with a finger. “I’ll follow you almost anywhere.”
The words feel good; he offers a solid promise but hasn’t lost all sense and offered the moon. “I’m glad you said ‘almost.’ I prefer someone who doesn’t promise too much too soon”
And with that, I turn the knob and shove the door wide open.