Page 7 of Plus-Size Mate

Eddie gave a curt nod and gestured for her to follow him down the hall.

They walked in silence, an awkward silence that Winter desperately wanted to break, though she had no clue how. Her words failed her, and her palms were so sweaty that she was forced to rub them on her jeans.

When he stopped at the door at the end of the hall, Winter was almost disappointed.

He turned to look at her, glancing her up and down quickly, his mouth open as if about to speak.

Then, instead, he sucked in a breath and turned to knock on the door.

What was he going to say?Winter wondered, though she was certain she would never know now.

“Come in.”

The call came loud and clear from inside the room and Winter had little time to do anything as Eddie shoved open the door and gestured her inside.

“Thanks,” Winter said as she slipped past him. Eddie's only response was another curt dip of his head.

As she slipped past him, Winter looked at him closely.

Is he holding his breath?she thought, her brow furrowing slightly with curiosity. Why would he be holding his breath?Do I really smell so bad to them?

Feeling more than a little self-conscious, Winter slipped into the room to find Jack Blackwell sitting in his chair behind his desk.

Upon seeing her, he rose to his feet and skirted around it.

“Ah, Miss Green, have you come with a response from your mother for me?” Jack asked as he offered her his hand.

Cautiously, Winter took it, shaking firmly.

“How…how do you know who I am?” Winter asked. Of course, she knew who he was. He was what the humans in town believed to be mayor. Everybody knew who he was and what he looked like.

But how he knew her, she had no idea.

Jack shrugged his shoulders, a nonchalant smile warming his face.

“It's my job to know those who live in my town,” he pointed out. “Besides, you look much like your mother.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” she said, quickly adding, “I think.”

At her words, she started to blush.

“It is,” Jack said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And I must admit, I was expecting her to come herself on a matter as important as this.”

Winter cringed at that. Perhaps she wasn't good enough.

She quickly reminded herself that in terms of witchery, she was more than equal to her mother, even if she wasn't nearly as old and wise.

“My mother is out of town, and your letter seemed urgent, so I took it upon myself to come and offer my own services,” Winter said, looking Jack as straight in the eye as possible. It took more than a little guts to do that to a werewolf, especially for witches, who were so able to see the beast that dwelled within.

She could sense Jack's wolf watching her closely, ready to spring if the witch should take it upon herself to try anything. Werewolves were territorial, indeed.

“Perhaps this ought to wait until your mother's return?” Jack suggested.

At that, it was Winter who crossed her arms. Lifting her chin, she continued to meet Jack's eye.

“I can assure you, Mr. Blackwell, that any help my mother can offer, I am able to offer myself.”

Jack stared her down in silence for several moments, and before long, Winter felt as if she were being dissected.

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