Page 24 of Wrestling With Werewolves

“Lola, would you like to go get some ice cream up on Main Street?” Richard’s rumbly voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling a smile to my face.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say with a laugh, gesturing at his packmates. “I heard your to-do list. It’s very long.”

He smirks. “It’s never not long. There’s always time for ice cream, I promise.” His smirk becomes a full grin, twin fangs peeking out over his plush lips.

Moons, why am I looking at his lips?

Connall shoos the rest of the wolves and Arkan’s father toward the door as I nod and rise from the stool, pushing it into place. The front door opens, and they exit Bad Axe. The bar lights twinkle and shine behind Richard, illuminating him as if the bar itself is telling me to stare. That’s how I take it, anyhow.

Richard looks up at the ceiling. “Whatcha doin’, girl?”

The way he says the word “girl” has me crossing my legs to ease some of the ache there. Slick arousal wets my thighs, my body preparing for an alpha in his absolute prime. My physical reaction is visceral and impossible to control, and I hope to Alaya that Richard pretends not to notice.

My wolf shoves toward the front of my focus, staring at Richard as I shake my head to ease the pressure she generates in my chest. When I rub at it, Richard crosses the space behind the bar and leans over it.

“You okay, Lola?”

Yes.

No.

No.

“Absolutely,” I say instead, not looking at him. I don’t want my wolf’s amber shade to show so obviously through my eyes. Yet, when I turn to look, unable not to, the green of Richard’s wolf shows clearly through his dark irises.

“We need ice cream,” he says, his voice a throaty, rippy growl. “Right now.”

Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin at the way he and his wolf are staring. I can’t even hold my girl back; she’s all about this focus and attention from Ever’s pack alpha. I try to remind myself who Richard is to me, to my father, but it feels impossible to grasp at those straws when I half-ass try.

“Can’t wait,” I manage.

For a long moment, the air in the bar fills with heat. Richard is still as a statue, his big chest heaving, and when I look into his eyes, they’re fully green. I’m staring at a man who’s seconds from a shift, his wolf taking over to do the transition.

Is he…not in control?

Worried for him, I push forward and press my hand to his chest. He’s scorching hot, his skin blazing into mine even through the soft fabric of his black tee. His muscles pop and bend, ears elongating to the lengthy, tapered tips of his wolf’s. A deep, ragged growl rumbles out of his throat as he grabs my wrist with one hand. His fingers wrap all the way around it, tightening until it pinches.

When I suck in a breath at the sheer dominance he exudes, he gasps and lets go of my wrist, stepping back. He runs both hands through his salt-and-pepper hair, looking deeply into my eyes. His wolf’s green is gone.

Come back, I think desperately. Let me see you.

“Lola, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice filled to the brim with emotion. “That was inappropriate. I?—”

A deep-seated need to comfort him and alleviate the situation rises. I’m well acquainted with emotional tension.

“You’re in need of ice cream, I can tell,” I say with a wink, slipping off the bar. I jerk my head toward the door. “C’mon, Alpha.”

He pauses a second, and I worry he’ll try to back out on the idea. I’m about to plead my case for why we should still go, but he strides to the end of the bar and rounds it to join me.

“I’m sorry, truly,” he murmurs as we head toward the broad, tall front doors.

When he shoves through them and holds the right door open for me, I pause by his side, glancing up into his familiar chocolate eyes. “I’m not sorry, Richard. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He nods, but I sense his unease, so I slip my arm under his and cradle his biceps to my side. “You promised me ice cream, and I feel like you’ve really talked it up. How fast can we get there?”

He laughs and bends his arm, placing his palm flat on his chest as we head right up the road. “Twenty minutes walking. It’s a nice night, too.”

I nudge his side with my elbow. “Is it not always a nice night, on account of the controlled weather?”

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