Page 100 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

She pushed her torso up to move into a seated position, and I had to look back down at my puzzle book for a moment. Her breasts were smaller than most of the she-wolves I was used to, but with the way her upper arms squeezed them together and with the style of her swimsuit top and how her back arched as she moved on the towel, I knew I would have a hard time holding back myself and my lycan.

“It’s fine,” I grunted. “I know you’re exhausted from your shows and stuff,” I added, clearing my throat to smooth out my voice. “Did you want to eat and then go clean up, or rinse off first and then go eat?”

“Rinse off first. Definitely,” she said, brushing sand off of herself as she stood up.

Once Haven had put her cardigan on over her swimsuit, and I had packed up the rest of our things, we made our way back to the campground to clean up before heading to the pier for dinner. I—and my lycan—would have preferred if she’d covered up more, but since her shorts and T-shirt were the only other clothing she had with her, we had to make peace with it.

I had offered to buy her another outfit. Shit, I’d have bought her the entire store if she wanted it. But she was just as stubborn as me and insisted she was fine with the one outfit since we would head home the next morning.

Little did she know I bought her a new outfit, anyway.

When we got back to the campsite, I showed her how to use the coin-operated hot water showers. Once she had rinsed herself off, I let her dress in the privacy the tent provided her while I rinsed myself off and changed in the bathroom. I felt guilty that I couldn’t let her take a proper shower, that I hadn’t taken her to a hotel or a rental house, but I’d really wanted her to experience the beach exactly the way I had growing up.

“So, clam chowder or fish and chips?” I asked her as I walked up to the tent at the same time she walked out.

I reached my hand to take hers, but she bypassed it and walked straight up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my chest. Without a pause, I cupped her face and bent to kiss her, keeping the kiss light while still conveying how much she meant to me.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered as I pulled back. “You didn’t have to do this.”

My thumbs stroked her cheeks, and I smiled at her while shaking my head. She didn’t understand yet, but she would soon. She would know what it meant to have everything, to always be taken care of, and to be treated like the gift she was.

“I wanted to, though,” I said.

“I know,” she replied. “That’s what makes you, you.”

“I’m glad you’re finally catching on.” I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and kissing her nose just as her stomach rumbled. “Now, let’s get some food in that belly of yours. I swear it’s about to jump out of your body and attack me if I don’t feed it soon.”

I led her to the pier, pointing out various important landmarks. Well, important to me. To everyone else, they were likely just normal landmarks. Or not even landmarks at all.

“Over there is the skate park Reid and Seb lived at one summer until they crashed into each other. Reid broke his collarbone, and Sebastian got a concussion, and Dad didn’t let them go back again after that.”

“I don’t blame him! That sounds awful!”

“They were both healed and back on their feet pretty quickly, but—“ I stopped, realizing what I had just said. “I mean, as quickly as someone can heal after those types of injuries,” I added, hoping my lie was good enough.

I knew humans took longer to heal than we did, but I had no idea what was a normal amount of time for a broken collarbone or a concussion to heal. Thankfully, Haven didn’t seem to notice my awkward cover.

“That fire pit was our fire pit,” I said. “We’d set up an enormous bonfire there on our last night here, and my mom, Fiona, and Stephanie, when she was alive, would help us make s’mores while our dads surfed.”

“At night?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of crazy like that.” I laughed. “My dad says the surf is better under the moonlight.”

“Is he right?” Haven asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know? I’m not really into surfing. Not like Reid is. Hell, if he could, he’d move out here instead of staying in Crescent Lake.”

“Why doesn’t he?”

“He doesn’t want to leave his dad alone.”

She nodded in understanding. “How old was he? When his mom died?”

“Nine,” I told her, rubbing her hand with my thumb. The same age she’d been when Jack fell ill and social services removed her from their home.

“Was she sick?”

“An accident,” I muttered, looking back at the old fire pit.

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