Page 6 of The Way We Were(wolf)

“I could use more of that at the moment,” Lucy said between gasps that had slowed enough for her to tack on a chuckle at the end of the statement. And that sound lightened the heaviness that had sat in Eric’s chest from the moment he’d seen her tearing down the hill in her futile attempt at catching the pumpkin.

His eyes shifted behind her as Stella came into view.

“What the heck was that?” she asked, her eyes wide and staring at her cousin as a tiny dog scampered behind. He had a wild look about him, like he’d been struck by lightning or chugged a Stanley full of coffee. Maybe both.

Lucy shrugged and then picked up the pup, chuckling softly as he licked her nose. “I, uh…really liked that pumpkin?” It was more of a question than a statement, like the reason for her manic pumpkin chase was something she couldn’t even decipher. Eric watched twin pink splotches bloom on her cheeks. Or maybe she just didn’t want to say.

“Here I thought you were running away from me because you didn’t want to do the window display.”

She tapped one boot against the other in a failed attempt to knock some of the mud off. There was a tiny streak of it on the apple of her cheek, which he desperately wanted to wipe. Not because he necessarily cared about cleanliness, but because he just wanted to touch her.

“No, that’s not it at all,” Lucy answered. A cooler breeze rustled the tree as she tucked the dog into her coat and pulled it tighter against her body. “Aren’t you freezing?”she asked as she looked at Eric.

He looked down at his thin, short-sleeved shirt and the absence of goosebumps on his arms. No, he wasn’t cold. Werewolves didn’t get cold when they ran through forests at blazing speeds. “I’m always kinda hot,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. Lucy looked at him the way he looked at cattle, sheep—anything beefy he was about to sink his teeth into. The twin pink circles on her cheeks now blazed a fiery red, like two stoplights glowing in the dark. He made a mental note to stand like the Brawny paper towel guy more often.

“Anyway,” Nate interjected, snapping Lucy out of her trance. “We were just leaving.”

“Hold on a sec,” Eric said, putting a hand up. He practically heard the lecture forming in Nate’s brain. It was the same old song every time: a chorus of ‘don’t get too close to humans’ followed by a couple verses of how much trouble he was getting them into. But closeness-shmoseness. He didn’t want to leave. Not without making sure Lucy was okay first. He turned to Stella. “What’s this about window decorating?”

“It’s for the salon—the big Fright Night celebration in town. All the businesses decorate their windows, and there’s a big competition.”

“Oh,” Lucy said. “I didn’t know about the competition part. I thought it was just something the town does for fun.”

“Well…” Stella stretched the monosyllabic word a good five or six seconds as her eyes traced her boot, making grooves in the mud. “Itisfun. But there’s a cash prize for the winner. And, well, I could really use the money.” Her volume dropped on that last sentence, and Eric couldn’t help but notice the way Lucy’s ears almost perked up and stood at attention. His did the same when she’d gotten stuck in the vacuum.

Lucy shook her head. “What do you mean? You said the salon was doing really well.”

Eric thought so too. They’d been busy for as long as he’d worked there. It’d only been a few weeks, but still. He remembered Stella saying something about business being slow during the pandemic, but they were making up for that now, judging from the full chairs and the even fuller waiting area.

“It’s not the salon. It’s Mom.”

“Aunt Cami?” A pained expression tugged at Lucy’s face, and Eric rubbed his chest. Surely it wasn’t possible to physically feel someone else’s pain. “Is she sick again?”

“She is, but it’s manageable. And she’s doing well. But it’s all thanks to this experimental drug she’s taking—one that insurance covers very little of. And I feel like this is all my fault because my parents invested in the salon. They gave me my dream, and I can’t even give them money for the medicine because I’m still recovering from the losses during the pandemic…”

“Hey,” Lucy said, wrapping her arms around her cousin, smooshing the small dog between them. Though, he didn’t look like he minded. Eric wanted to wrap his arms around Lucy, but somehow, he doubted a three-person hug would bring the comfort he imagined. He just wanted to help. “I’ll win you that prize. I’ll decorate the best Fright Night window this town’s ever seen.”

“And I’ll help.” The words shot out of Eric’s mouth before his brain could tell him to stop. Though, his brain probably should have alerted him to the consequences, namely the death glare from Nate. He paused for a beat before doing a little mental math. Last week, Stella had mentioned closing the salon the day of Fright Night, which he’d mentally noted was the night before the full moon. So, he’d still be around for it.

Nathan’s lip curled. “I really don’t think—”

“That we can beat everyone in the town?” Eric cut him off. That wasn’t whatNate the Wet Blanketwas going to say, of course. But Eric was tired of his big brother telling him how everything was a bad idea. As far as Nate was concerned, Ericneverhad a good idea. But it was his idea to come to this town, and so far, it was proving to be the best idea he’d ever had.

So, take that, Nate.

Stella shook her head. “I can’t ask you guys to do this. It’s a huge undertaking.”

“That you don’t have time for, what with Amber on maternity leave and the number of customers we’ve been having.” Eric took another step closer to the women, trying to avoid looking at Lucy’s face because that smile of hers was distracting. Goodness, was it distracting. “Besides, you didn’t ask. We offered.”

“Okay, then.” Stella nodded and then turned to Lucy. “Are you okay working with Eric on the window? I’d feel better if I wasn’t saddling you with this enormous project alone.”

He watched her thumbs trace circles around each other through the dog’s caramel-colored fur, her eyes glued to their dance. Was this a bad idea? Should he not have offered? They worked together at the salon now. Well, nottogether. Just in the same building. Maybe that was it. She was okay with him from a distance, but spending this much time with him, one-on-one, was not only something she wasn’t interested in, but it wasn’t even something she could overcome for the sake of her ill aunt. That hurt.

“Don’t worry. It’s—”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun,” Lucy interrupted, and his jaw nearly hit the muddy soil.

His eyes rose to meet hers, two pools of the richest espresso. “Really?”

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