Page 8 of The Quiet Alpha and His Fox
Fuck, I was already affecting him. The Quiet was affecting him. That was why I didn't let myself get too close to people.
He cleared his throat and glanced at me. "How old are you?"
The question caught me off guard, and I actually had to think about it for a few moments. "Twenty-four. No, twenty-five."
He laughed again. A kind laugh that was gentle, like a brook catching itself over rocks. "You don't sound so sure."
I smiled and relaxed into my seat. "I'm twenty-five. I just don't think about it very often. And I feel older." We pulled up to the barn, and I climbed out and gestured to the house. "I love there. Live there. I live there."
He nodded, ignoring my mistake as I showed him the barn and the chickens. Then I walked around the barn to the small Airstream.
"You can stay here." I opened it up and climbed inside.
He followed me in, wide-eyed as he looked around.
"I know it's not much, but it's got a bed, table, stove.” I shrugged and met his eyes. “The basics."
A huge grin stole over his face. "Are you serious? I can stay in here?"
"Yeah. I've had workers live here before. As long as you don't mind…"
"Mind? Heck, this is a palace to me."
He set his rucksack on the bed and beamed.
A softness seemed to round out the edges of my heart. I liked him. He had a funny way of talking, but it was cute. Like he'd time traveled from a long time ago.
"Okay, then, we should get started. There's a lot to do before the ground gets soaked again."
He nodded and smiled, then stuck out his hand. "I'm Joe, by the way."
Wow. I hadn't even thought to ask his name. I was hopeless. "Waylan."
We shook hands, and I felt the same electricity that was there when I sat beside him in the truck. He smiled as if he felt it, too. Our eyes locked for a moment too long, and I swallowed, then quickly looked away.
"Let’s get to it. The storm won't wait for us." I scooted out the small trailer door and took Joe back to the truck.
We spent the day working hard. I was worried he might be weak, but he kept up. Almost better than me.
I found myself constantly distracted by the lock of hair that always seemed to fall across his forehead and the smell of cinnamon drifting from his direction. Sometimes, he would look up and catch me staring at him. When our eyes met, he'd smile, and I had to look away from the honesty and openness in his expression. There was sadness there too, which intrigued me if I was being honest with myself.
For just two people, we got a huge amount of work done.
I could tell Joe was tired by the time I finally called it quits. If I were alone, I'd strip down and go for a swim in the lake. Instead, we went back to the house and I showed him the outdoor shower by the barn.
I brought out some soap and shampoo, along with a few towels. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
When he looked at me, I felt embarrassed that he'd caught me watching him so many times today. It didn’t help that being so close to him now made me feel a bit on edge.
As I walked back to the house, Joe coughed like he was trying to get my attention. "Waylan, thank you." The gratitude in his voice pierced my heart.
"You're welcome." I didn't look back. "Same thing tomorrow."
Back in my house, I set about heating up some dinner for him. I wasn't much of a cook—it was hard to get inspired when it was just me—but I did make a good stew and usually had a pot of it on hand. As I put his dinner on a tray, I noticed I was whistling.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Chapter 6
