Page 43 of Her Werewolf Lover

Sam loved kids. But she didn’t expect to feel that powerful rush of longing that hit her when she saw Maya and Michael together. To have a family of her own, that was one of her deepest wishes.

Her stomach had clenched, and that same old desperate hope filled her. The one she thought had died when her ex had denied her request for children of her own.

Michael wouldn’t do that. She knew it instinctively. That man clearly loved kids. He was nothing like Gary.

Thank God.

Her ovaries seemed to go off like fireworks every time he came near her. Oh yes, she had fantasies of Michael Duarte. Dreams that included happy-ever-afters Samantha thought she’d given up on.

They were even stronger now since she saw proof of his paternal abilities. Right now, as she walked into the kitchen and saw his head bent as he helped his daughter do homework, Sam felt that same yearning desire stirring inside of her.

What a picture they made! It warmed her on the inside. Maya sat at the counter with her sneakered feet dangling. Her dark head was bent studiously over a sheet of paper. The young girl was so intenton what she wrote that she didn’t even notice the intrusion.

Samantha had the urge to read over her shoulder, but she knew better than to trespass on Maya’s work. She just tucked away the image into that secret place inside her heart and mind. It made for a good memory. Something to take out later when she wanted to remember the day.

She grabbed her cell phone and went to sit on the stairs, trusting Michael to find her when he was finished.

The sound of his crew already working in the living room told her not to go in there. She was fine right there.

An email caught her attention, and she had to read it twice before she understood what it was. Sam had received an offer for an article she’d submitted to a local teen online magazine.

It was all about the importance of maintaining a healthy outlook on food to achieve physical goals and challenging societal beauty standards.

She’d submitted it late one night after pondering what she was going to do for money for the millionth time. She honestly could not believe Michael had not asked her for more money yet, butanyway, it looked like she had finally found a way to pay him.

“Hello Ms. Jones, I’m Eric Marlowe, chief editor of Teen Global Mag. First, thank you for the opportunity to read your article. To put it plainly, we want it. I have included the standard contract and would like you to look it over. What we are proposing is a series of articles, not just one, along with the possibility of a book. I work out of our New York offices and can meet with you once the contract has been submitted. Looking forward to hearing from you.”

Samantha reread the email several times before letting out an ear-piercing screech.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Tears pricked her eyes as her heart sped up. Sure, she didn’t expect to be given her pick of assignments the way she’d once been, but that was okay.

She was going to work. To earn her living and not rely on another damn person for as long as she lived!

“SAMANTHA!”

Loud footsteps had her turning her head to see Michael racing towards her.

“Sam? Are you okay?”

“Yes! Oh my God, yes, I’m okay,” she said, jumping at him.

Good thing the man was huge and could take it when she plastered her entire body to his.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he murmured, holding her tight, “but why did you scream?”

“Oh, um, I am so sorry. Well, I’ve had a proposal?—”

“Excuse the fuck out of me?” Michael snarled, and she froze at the rolling growl she felt filling his body.

“Oh my God, it is you? All that growling I’ve been hearing? Michael?—”

“What fucking proposal, Sunshine?”

“What? Oh, I mean a job! I am talking about a job. Now explain that!” Sam shouted, pointing at his face.

His eyes were glowing. Actually fucking glowing. This wasn’t just flecks of gold scattered throughout the brown. This was full on neon light fucking gold.

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