Page 82 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

Right before I’d lowered the wand to Nissa’s belly, I’d said, “I’m not sure why the jelly is always cold, but it is. I could warm it up for you if you’d like, but?—”

“I’ve been awake while doctors lifted my intestines out of my stomach,” Nissa responded, “so I think I’ll live.”

For several seconds, I stood frozen, jellied wand in the air. Then I glanced at Tyrese to see if it was a weird joke I didn’tunderstand. The clench of his fists conveyed it wasn’t, and that he held a whole heap of animosity for those who’d hurt his mate.

In a weird way, it meant Nissa and I had something in common. We both joked away upsetting past experiences and current anxieties. Only hers were a hundred times more devastating, and that fortified my determination to keep my sorrow in check. Other people had it worse, after all.

As I was performing the procedure, I’d gnawed on my lower lip, debating whether or not to broach the subject that’d been on my mind for a while. “I’ve been wondering something since that first night you and I met. If I’m out of line, just say so, and I’ll zip my lip.”

Nissa tensed, not quite confirming or denying. I assumed that meant she was waiting to hear the question, so I plowed on with it.

“Why’d you help me chain up Conall if you thought there was a possibility I might hurt or experiment on him?”

“Easy. He needed his ego taken down a notch,” Nissa said with a laugh, and Tyrese chuckled along. Obviously, I hadn’t hidden my concern very well because she aimed a reassuring smile at me. “Only kidding. Like I told you after the last big pack meeting, I consider him my brother. Which is why, that night, I carefully weighed his odds of survival. You landed higher on the list than dragging his unconscious ass to the compound. That decision was all logic, no emotion.”

While Nissa talked a tough game, I didn’t quite buy it. She was as fiercely protective of Conall as he was of her. In the face of the awful decision he and I were forced to make, at least he’d always have plenty of strong people watching after him. That also comforted me as I deliberated leaving Guadalupe Falls.

“Everything looks great,” I said as I swiped the ultrasound wand across Nissa’s stomach. “And if we can get a peek right around here...”

Tyrese sandwiched Nissa’s hand between both of his, the couple’s excitement so palpable unexpected tears formed in my eyes. I’d like to say it was 100 percent being an amazing, empathetic person, but I had a fleeting thought, one that said,In another life, that might’ve been me and Conall in the not-too-distant future.

“You’re having a little girl,” I’d told them, and the couple had hugged. With the tightness in my throat reaching the aching point, I’d backed away, ready to excuse myself so they could have their special moment without a side of blubbering from an emotional woman they barely knew.

I’d only made it one step when Nissa reached for my hand.

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a quick squeeze. “I wish that I could’ve grown to call you my sister, but if you ever need anything, you have my number.”

I’d nodded, and then they’d rushed off to get ready for Conall and Natalia’s wedding, leaving Sasquatch and me and my shattered heart alone in the too-quiet clinic. And with nothing much to do, my thoughts bombarded me, and it required every ounce of strength I had to prevent myself from falling apart.

I organized the vials of medication, the rattle echoing loneliness the way my voice had those first days in the clinic.

When that didn’t take as long as expected, I decided it was time to scrub the place down.

“I’ll help,” Sasquatch said, relieving me of the bucket of soapy water and gesturing for one of the sponges.

The point was for the activity to eat up as much time as possible, and I’d nearly told him as much, but he looked about as helpless as I felt.

So we dropped to hands and knees and got to work.

To sell or to re-open my practice to the more usual animals of Guadalupe Falls, I still hadn’t decided.

Suddenly, affection for this tiny building crashed into me in a wave. Yeah, the start had been a bit rocky, but how could I even consider a future that didn’t include this town and a certain werewolf?

Then again, at the thought of staying, the sharp shards of my broken heart sliced me right open. The idea of seeing Conall out and about—or even knowing he was out in the woods without me—and not being able to call him or touch him or kiss him or...

A tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. If the idea was too much to bear, how would I ever survive the reality?

But saying goodbye to him?

Both options left me feeling like I was internally bleeding out, and sadly, there wasn’t any surgery or medical procedure to fix it.

I tossed my sponge into the bucket of soap water, swiping my arm across my forehead as I peered out the glass door of the clinic. “Do you know that hawk?” I asked Sasquatch, without fully thinking through the question and how ridiculous it sounded. I crinkled my nose, wishing for the ability to snatch my words out of the air and stuff them back into the recesses of my brain. “Never mind. That was a weird question. I don’t, like, think you talk to animals or whatever.”

Sasquatch sat back on his heels, a mournful expression on his face that shredded what was left of my poor battered insides. “Not all animals. I can’t even talk to her...” He glanced out at the hawk perched on the porch railing to the clinic. “But sometimes I relive our conversations from long ago to remember what it was like when I could.”

The raw wound in his voice poured vinegar on my internal injuries, and I recognized it for what it was. Heartbreak. I crossed the room and sat in front of him. “Tell me about her.”

Where we still talking about the hawk? I wasn’t quite sure. It didn’t matter, though.

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