Page 76 of Witch's Wolf

I roll my neck and shoulders to work out the kinks, but his grin distracts me. His eyes drink me in and the way he looks at me makes my heart beat faster. My mouth is instantly as dry as if I’ve been eating sand.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a whisper.

“Sam…” I breathe his name, heart thundering.

What do I say to that? He brushes my hair away from my face, leaning in and claiming my lips.

“Erica…” he responds, his warm breath passing over my cheeks, a wry smile on his face. “Let’s go out. A proper date.”

“A date?” I ask, shocked out of the bliss of the moment. “Are you kidding? Sam, she’s out there. We can’t just go out on a date. You’re crazy.”

“Fuck her,” he says, shrugging. “You’re my girl. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let your crazy mother stop me from doing what I want and what I want is to take you out.”

Disbelief leaves me with nothing. I try to form an argument, but I’ve got nothing. He hooks a hand behind my neck, leaning in until our foreheads rest against each other.

“The pack…”

“They’ll be fine,” he says. “Raul will make sure of it.”

“Sam… you know if she sees us together it will trigger her. We can’t know that she won’t…”

“Erica Connors,” he says, pulling back, his voice deepening to his serious tone. “Are you saying you don’t want to go on a date with me? Oh my God, have you been using me for…”

He drops his eyes to his crotch before meeting mine again. His words, the tone, everything about his mock sincerity makes me crack. I can’t be serious when he’s like this.

“Well… you do have your uses,” I smile, pointedly looking at his pants.

I laugh and he does too. It’s cathartic.

“Seriously,” he says, switching gears. “The pack will be close enough to keep us safe. You need this, Erica. Hell, I need this. We haven’t had a moment alone… besides… well, you know. I want to treat you right, Miss Connors.”

“You’re impossible,” I say, cupping his face in my hand.

“I am a shifter werewolf, by your old standards I think I would definitely fit into that category.”

“Fine, where?” I ask, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.

“This isn’t the city,” he says, “so fine dining is pretty much out unless you count the wings at Joe’s.”

“They are good,” I agree.

“But I was thinking something more private,” he says. “Something for us. What would make you happy?”

There’s only one place I want to go with him. Back to where we first came together. The place that, in my head at least, is nowourplace.

“Lake Paxton,” I say without hesitation.

“Your wish is my command,” he agrees with a grin that I can only describe as wolfish.

He takes my hand and pulls me out of the cabin. Putting on helmets, he fires up his Harley and we head towards the lake. I look around a couple of times, but I don’t see anyone following. The worry gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, but I keep it to one side. I do need this time, more than I realized.

He turns off the main road. The smaller, but well maintained one leads down to the lake. I look around while he drives. The wind blowing in my face carries the scents of elm, cedar and balsam fir. The sun is shining bright and everything is green, spring in full bloom.

He parks the bike and helps me off. We stow our helmets and then walk along one of the many trails, hand in hand. We don’t talk, just walk. Quiet, our attention on each other and the beauty that surrounds us. The trail winds through the trees until it emerges onto a cliff that overlooks the lake.

Sam takes us to the edge, putting his arm around my shoulders. I lean against him, acutely aware of the way we fit. As if we were made perfect for one another.

Is it this way for everyone? Does that mean we’re meant to be together?

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