Chapter 22 - Craig
~December~
The mill was slow. The hustle and bustle of the summer building months had come to a close as winter weather set in, and contractors gave way to cabinet and furniture makers who worked indoors.
Even the background whine of saws had diminished as the crews in the back took advantage of a similar lull in logging to do equipment maintenance.
“Help me move this display,” Harrison said, motioning me over.
I walked over to where he’d emptied a display and helped him move it aside.
“Thanks,” he said as we set it down again. He then picked up a broom and started sweeping the newly exposed floor.
“You need more help?” I asked, “Or should I restock something?”
“If you could get a cart and start pulling everything from the glue display, that would help.”
“Got it.”
I grabbed a flat cart and started pulling bottles of glue and fillers from the branded display.
“So… got any plans for the two-week break?” Harrison asked as we cleaned.
“Nothing major,” I replied. “Randy’s family is going to Mexico for Christmas, but he’s staying here. My family moved to Valle Granja right after I graduated high school, and I already told them that I was going to stay here with Randy.”
“Christmas morning together?”
I smiled. “Up to him, but I hope so.”
“You still mainly spending the weekends with him?”
I chuckled. “We try to squeeze in a Tuesday or Wednesday evening together as well… depending on how busy slash tired we are.”
“More time together seems like a good thing.”
“Yeah.”
One of the saw guys strode out from the back bearing a familiar bucket. “Hey, Craig. Wanna shop for your omega before I dump these in the scrap bin?”
I nodded and abandoned my task. I dug through the bucket, but came up empty-handed. I sighed as I dumped it in and handed the bucket over.
“Nothing?” he asked.
I nodded. “Slim pickings this month.”
He shrugged. “Sorry, man.”
I shook my head. “Not your fault. Thanks for letting me look first.”
“No prob.”
He headed back, and I returned to my task of emptying the glue display.
“Struck out again?” Harrison asked. “Oh, and help me move this back?”
I walked over and helped him return the display to its spot. “Yeah. Nothing good in the scraps the past few days.”
“Be careful,” he teased. “Don’t want your dowry to fall short.”
I snorted. “I still can’t believe you showed him that.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t.”
“Oh yeah, I’m just going to show the man I want that I have a bin that my coworkers have labeled my dowry.”
“It would have been funny.”
I snorted. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, not to you. But I’d have laughed my ass off.”
“Ass,” I chuckled.
“He seems to have liked it, though. Who knew scraps of wood could land you a mate?”
“We’re not mated yet.”
“Well… I’m rootin’ for the two of you.”
I finished with the glue display while Harrison restocked his display, then moved on to the epoxy section.
Mate…
My mind kept drifting to the word.
The time wasn’t right, and I knew it. But I already couldn’t imagine Randy not being by my side.
∞∞∞
“So are you the type who decorates only a few days before Christmas?” I asked as I added another log to the fire.
“I don’t really decorate.”
I turned to him. “Really?”
He shrugged from where he sat on the couch. “I haven’t had much need. It’s just been me. The rest of the family are usually too busy to come over. I used to, but eventually it just felt…” He paused. “Why bother?”
I frowned, walked over, and brushed a kiss across his forehead. “Are decorations something you enjoy?”
“I like looking at them… when they’re tasteful,” he admitted. “But it didn’t make sense to put in the work for just me.”
“Do you want me to put up a few things?”
“Do you want to?”
I sat beside him on the couch and tugged him against my side. “I already put up a small tree in my apartment. If it’s something you’d enjoy, I’ll put one up here too. But only if you want it.”
“Let me think about it?”
“Ok.”
My omega curled up against my side as the movie started, then he pulled a brown blanket over us. Russy took his place on Randy’s other side on his plaid blue blanket.
It had been the perfect night. We’d worked side-by-side at the stove making dinner, then I’d washed while he dried the dishes. The movie we’d picked was one we’d both been looking forward to, and having him beside me was that finishing touch.
I added and adjusted the logs for overnight during the second half of the movie, and, as the credits rolled, Randy was so relaxed against me that I assumed he’d fallen asleep.
I ran my nose through his hair, savoring his scent—combined with whatever woods he’d worked with that day.
“I love you so much,” I murmured. “Beautiful Randy.”
I could have been holding a lit fuse as quickly as he stiffened, stood, and bolted several paces from the couch. The brown blanket dropped to the floor in his haste.
“Randy?”
He turned, eyes wide, chest heaving.
“Hey,” I said softly as I stood, hands outstretched. “Are you ok?”
He took several steps back.
“Talk to me,” I murmured. “Please.”
He shook his head. “I… I…”
“Randy…”
Another step back, then he turned and bolted upstairs. The bedroom door slammed a second later.
The jingle of Russy’s collar as he stopped beside me. I glanced down at him. “Do you know what’s wrong?”
Russy looked back at me with an expression as confused as I was.
I thought back to what I’d said before Randy freaked out. I’d let it slip that I loved him, then I’d called him beautiful.
It wasn’t the beautiful thing, I said that all the time. Which meant that ‘I love you’ had somehow set him off.
I took a deep breath and climbed the stairs.
The bedroom didn’t have a locking door, but I wasn’t about to barge in. I knocked softly. “Randy? May I come in?”
No answer.
“Please?”
No answer.
I leaned my forehead against the door. “Please, Babe. I won’t know what’s wrong if you don’t talk to me. I’m sorry if you were expecting some grand romantic gesture and I messed it up.”
No answer.
I sighed, turned, and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.
Russy padded up the stairs, then over. His eyes flicked between me and the door.
“I know, Spud,” I said softly.
He pawed at the door and let out a soft whine.
“Can I let Russy in?” I asked.
No answer.
Russy stared at the door for a full minute, maybe two, before realizing that it wasn’t going to open. He let out a doggy huff and laid down, resting his head on my leg.
I ran my fingers through his fur as I petted his head.
The tick of a clock from downstairs, and soft pings from the woodstove. Wood creaks from the frame as the cabin adjusted to the warmth inside versus the cold outside.
Jessie had warned me that there was an emotional minefield, and apparently, I’d stepped on one.
Time passed. I didn’t hear Randy crying—which was probably a good thing—but hearing nothing at all from inside the bedroom wasn’t much better. An occasional gust of wind would make branches skitter across the side of the cabin.
Why wouldn’t he talk to me? It was clear I’d messed up, but I couldn’t fix it if I didn’t know what was wrong.
Annoyance started to curl through me as the minutes went on. I knew there was pain in Randy’s past, and I tried to avoid anything that could hurt him. But I’d learned more from his sister than him.
There was only so much hurt that I could avoid when I didn’t know what would hurt him. At some point, it was on him to meet me halfway—to tell me how I could navigate the minefield.
Russy lifted his head and looked at the door. A soft whine came from his throat.
“Randy?” I tried again. “Russy really wants in. Can I at least let him in?”
No answer.
Annoyance turned to anger. I got it, he was hurting. Over what, I didn’t know.
He could shut me out, but how dare he shut out his own dog?
My anger started to spill over as I stood. For months, I’d done everything at his pace out of fear of reopening old wounds. I didn’t mind. But somehow, it wasn’t enough.
I’d made a mistake, that was clear. But even after all the times I’d tried to show him that I wanted to be careful of his past, he’d acted like the first stumble was an intentional dagger to his heart.
I rested my arm above my head against the door and leaned my forehead on it.
“Damnit, Randy,” I growled. “I get it. I hurt you. But how the hell was I supposed to know that I needed to avoid saying that when you won’t talk to me about your past? It’s impossible for me to know what’s off-limits when you don’t tell me!”
The answering silence was infuriating.
“Fine! You know what! Don’t talk! Just be miserable without attempting to fix it! Shut me out! But, damnit, don’t shut out Russy! He’s out here wondering why he’s not allowed to go to you. That’s a real asshole move.”
I stomped down the stairs and toward the door. My hand was on the handle before I stopped.
Rage aside, I did love Randy.
I loved him. I wanted him to be my mate.
In any other relationship, I could go home and trust that we could make time to talk the following day once we’d both cooled down.
But… this wasn’t a normal relationship. There was a good chance that if I walked out, Randy would never allow me back in. His trust was too fragile.
“I’m scared…”
The memory of a whisper from months before—from the day I’d asked to court him.
I dropped the handle, let out a sigh, and rested my forehead on the front door.
It had been years since I’d gone hunting, but I remembered my dad telling me that sometimes the wounded animals were the most dangerous—the most likely to flee or lash out.
He was wounded, and if I walked out that door, it would rip him apart in ways I couldn’t understand.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, held it to the count of ten, then released it slowly. I did that two more times, until my anger started to subside.
I turned and glanced back up at the loft. The bedroom door was still closed.
I sighed, strode to the couch, snagged the brown blanket from where it had landed on the floor, and pulled it over myself.
I would stay.
Randy needed me to.