Page 4 of The Way We Were(wolf)

“It was nothing…”

“Lucy.”

“Lucy.” He nodded, trying out the name for himself, as a small smile pulled from the edges of his mouth. Her name literally meantlight—fitting, since her eyes were the brightest things in the room. They sparkled like dew in the morning sun, reflecting light with her every move. “I’m just glad I could help.”

She smiled back, the largest display of a positive emotion he’d seen from her in the time since he’d first noticed her. Her cheeks pinkened, twin rose petals against her creamy white skin. She turned from them and walked down the hall, back to her station, and he watched her get a good dozen steps away before his boss cleared her throat.

“That’s my cousin,” she said, nudging him with her bony elbow. “I’m worried about her.”

“What? From the vacuum attack?” He watched her walk to the front desk, pulling out the chair as the wheels squeaked. “I think the only thing she hurt is her pride.”

“No. I’m not worried about that. It’s just… She’s new in town. And since you are too, maybe you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye out for her. She’s had such a rough year.”

“Of course,” he answered with a single nod of his head before she walked back to her client.

Like there was any way hecouldn’tbe around Lucy.

But heshouldn’t. Nate was very clear about that when they settled in this town. And as though he’d summoned him that very moment, his brother walked across the salon, his eyes wide and his face scrunched like he was trying to shoot lasers at his target—Eric.

He strode across the shiny floor with a confidence Eric definitely didn’t share. In fact, the way Nate didn’t so much as blink sent a chill down Eric’s spine.

“What just happened here?” Nate’s deep voice lowered, likely to keep this conversation between just the two of them, but the way it echoed slightly down the empty hall only made him more intimidating.

“Just a mishap with the auto-vac. Nothing big.” Eric shrugged as he chuckled like a schoolgirl, all high-pitched and squeaky, because apparently that was his default fake laugh. So much for forcing bravado he didn’t feel. He wasn’t fooling anyone—least of all the guy who warned him against coming to this town.

Nate took another step forward, the lug soles of his boots clunking against the floor. “I agreed to come here because you agreed to play by my rules.” His eyes, black as the dark checkered tile on the floor, trailed the length of the salon. They stopped on the woman he’d just rescued, who was lost in her e-reader, obviously oblivious to the heat of Nathan’s stare. “There’s being close, and then there’s being too close.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Because from where I was standing”—he tipped his head down the hall in the direction of the styling stations—“you might need a reminder.”

Eric swallowed. Hard. He hated that Nate knew him so well. But lately, Eric was tired of the control Nate had over him. He knew his older brother was acting from a place of concern, and after what had happened with Carrie—orCautionary Carrie, as he’d thought of her—he certainly understood. But this was getting old. And maybe it was the adrenaline still pumping through his veins or the way his brother looked at him like he was the child he wasn’t, but for the first time, Eric was ready to share a piece of his mind he never did—until he remembered where he was and that causing a scene in public wasn’t the best idea. Especially since losing his cool was a sure way to shift into the monster he was trying to keep everyone from seeing.

“I’ll be more careful.” Deep down, Eric knew Nate was right, that getting too close to people was a bad idea. And acting on whatever this feeling was swirling in his gut? Well, that was riskier than Frosty the Snowman spending an afternoon in a greenhouse. Everyone knew how well that had turned out. But he also got the feeling that not getting too close to Lucy was something he had little control over. And he knew better than anyone what could happen when things weren’t under control.

ChapterThree

Leaves crunched beneath Lucy’s feet as a cool breeze wafted the crisp smell of autumn under her nose. She breathed in the comfort of it all, the best her favorite time of year had to offer. If ever there was an image that best exemplified the quintessential fall day, it had to include everything surrounding her in the middle of Emerson Farms.

“What do you think?” Stella asked, arms wide, her face tipped to the sun. “Is this the most sincere pumpkin patch you’ve ever seen?”

“Alright, Linus,” Lucy chuckled as she flashed back to her childhood, when she’d watch the Peanuts special on television each year. It wasn’t Halloween without it. “Though I’m skeptical of the Great Pumpkin showing up here, I have to admit this place is pretty amazing.”

She’d missed this—all of it—these past couple of years. Sure, there were pumpkin patches on the outskirts of Chicago, where she’d lived before her life went topsy-turvy. She was an independent woman, but pumpkin picking wasn’t much fun as a solo activity. And she’d never really connected with anyone while she lived there—well, except for one person. But thinking about that relationship made her stomach turn like she’d eaten an entire bag of candy corn. Or really just a few pieces. For everything she loved about this season, candy corn was nowhere near the top of that list.

“I think a couple of these will do.” Stella bent down and inspected a medium-sized pumpkin, rolling it from side to side as she inspected it. “Casper, can I have a little room here?” she asked as she nudged Lucy’s dog out of the way a bit.

Lucy grabbed the dog, not wanting him to get any mud on Stella’s shirt. They’d both donned flannel garb for the occasion, but Stella had opted for the half-tucked, loose and unbuttoned look, while Lucy imagined she looked like her grandpa when he worked on the farm. He certainly had worn boots like these. But they were comfortable—something she was grateful for since her toes were dying a slow, painful death after wearing fancy shoes to the salon yesterday. So much for wanting to look nice on her first day.

“Come on. You know he has no concept of personal space.”

The small pup—a Yorkie mixed with a bunch of other breeds no one could quite put a finger on—pounced on the pumpkin to further support Lucy’s comment. “That’s the truth! Now, if I get a few of these, a couple of gourds, and maybe a cornstalk or two, I think that’ll be enough, don’t you?”

“For your porch?” Lucy squatted slowly, so as not to lose her balance on the sloped terrain. “Yeah, I think that’s more than enough.”

Stella shook her head. “No, not my porch. This is for the salon. For Fright Night. Don’t you remember how everyone on Main Street goes all out, decorating their storefronts?”

Lucy tilted her head, trying to imagine what her cousin was planning. “You’re going to need a lot more than a couple of pumpkins, a gourd or two, and a cornstalk to fill that giant window.”

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