James wanted to hug her, even though such a thing was against his very nature. So many in their pack had lost so much, and they all dealt with it in their own ways. He supposed if you wanted to get technical, he was just as damaged as everyone else; the loss of his pack in Mississippi and Louisiana, the deaths in the war, the sense of failure that had overwhelmed him when Zach and Carmen and all of the others had fallen, it had broken him just as much as everyone else. He had taken off, needing distance from Trey and Rachel and Theo, needing to heal his wounds in private. A dog who crawled under the porch to die instead of doing it in his master's arms.
But he didn't go to her that way. Instead he reached out a massive hand and touched her dark hair, not quite tousling but an affectionate touch all the same. "You tell that wolf to go fuck himself, hear?" he told her gently. He wasn't going to get any more writing done today, that was for sure.
"I got an idea. Why don't we give this up for today and head outside? It's a fucking gorgeous day and I have my bike. We could go ride up in the mountains. See if we can find a swimming hole or something."