Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

Rico nodded at me as I entered the garage. “Gordo’s in the office,” he said quietly. “Is it weird to be surprised every time I see him here again?”

I shrugged. “We’ll get used to it. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Rico snorted. “That’s what I would have said three years ago.”

And yeah. That stung, because he was right. I would have said the same thing. And I didn’t know if I could trust my own words.

Gordo was sitting behind his desk, hunting and pecking at the keyboard as he frowned at the computer screen.

“What is this?” he growled. “None of this makes any sense.”

“We had to upgrade to a new system while you were gone,” I said. “The old one was outdated.”

“It wasn’t outdated. It worked just fine with what I used it for.”

“You weren’t using it.”

He glared up at me. “This going to be a thing now?”

“Probably,” I said easily.

“For how long?”

“As long as I think it’s necessary.”

He scowled at the monitor. “Fucking Alphas,” he muttered.

“You okay in here?”

“Peachy. I’ll just sit here and try to figure out how to use something that we don’t even need.”

“Pain in my ass,” I said as I went out to the shop floor.

RICO WAS right. It was weird to see him there.

To see him leaning against the office door, arms across his chest, as he listened to Rico singing a song in Spanish.

To hear him growling into the phone at a supplier, telling them they were out of their goddamn mind if they thought he was going to pay that much, he was running a business and he could go somewhere else.

To feel his hand on the back of my neck, squeezing once as he walked by.

It was weird.

Good, but weird.

“YOU WANT a ride?” he asked as we closed the garage. We waved at Rico as he drove off in his old Corolla. It was only three, but we were slow today.

I shook my head.

“He waiting for you?”

“Probably.”

“You gonna fix this?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”