The comment burned through Randy’s guts like acid. But buddy or no, whether the kids needed a friend or not, and even if destiny had done everything in its power to bring Randy to Wolf in order to meet the lover that he was going to spend eternity with, men that became wolves were men that became wolves. Point blank. End of discussion. And he was going to have no part of it.
“Go home,” Randy repeated. “Get your stuff and go. I have things to do.”
* * * *
When Randy had first arrived in Wolf, clutching the printout from the realtor’s website, he’d had two suitcases and his laptop bag. They now rested on the bed, open, getting filled at a rate that was surprisingly quick for someone who had to do the back and forth between dresser and bed with a limp. As he packed, his rage grew.
It was
