Page 42 of Howling Night

Ryder’s arm was warm around my still humming body. I nestled closer, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow to a steady rhythm.

A long, haunting howl cut through the night air. It was distant, but clear, and Ryder’s entire body tensed before he bolted upright.

“Everly, I…” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I hate to do this.”

“Seriously?”

His eyes met mine, conflicted and intense. “I know. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t leave if it weren’t important. I will make it up to you.”

“Haven’t heard that one before,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. A quick look toward the window and I could tell it would be dawn soon.

Ryder was already dressed. “Lock the door behind me.”

ChapterNineteen

After locking the front door, I watched Ryder’s truck disappear down the dark road from the window. As his taillight faded, the lingering warmth on my skin cooled rapidly as I stood there in only my thin robe.

“Typical,” I muttered, letting the curtain fall back into place.

It’s not like I was surprised. Men always had somewhere more important to be. The sex had been utterly mind-blowing, but that urgent howl had shown where his priorities were.

Not that it mattered.

This wasn’t the beginning of anything.

It was fun.

I made my way back to the bedroom, combing my fingers through my tangled hair. The sheets still smelled like him — woodsy with a hint of spice and fresh like leaves after a gentle spring shower. I collapsed onto the mattress, pulling the covers up to my chin to push away the chill that was settling in the room.

It was only ever going to be one night. I knew that.

I’d sworn off relationships months ago. Men had consistently proven themselves untrustworthy, selfish, or just plain disappointing. It wasn’t like Ryder Black, with his mysterious pack business and middle-of-the-night departure, was going to be the exception that changed my mind.

Surely he felt the same way about me. So what if his touch had set my body on fire in ways I’d never experienced? So what if that connection had felt like something deeper than just physical attraction? It didn’t change anything. I was still leaving Birchwood Hollow once my car was fixed.

He had his life here, and I still had to find a way to escape mine. And as it turned out, living in the country wasn’t the answer I’d hoped it would be.

Sleep finally took over, and when I woke, bright sunlight streamed in between the closed curtains. For the first time since moving here, I’d slept soundly through what had been left of the night. No howling, no wolves on my porch, no creepy sensations of being watched. Just peaceful, dreamless sleep.

It was 10:47 when I rolled out of bed, stretching my sore muscles as flashes of the night before hit me hard. I smiled, and it didn’t fade as I took a quick shower and got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

A knock at the door startled me, and I rushed to the window, swallowing the hope I’d find Ryder’s truck in the driveway. I mean, it wasn’t like… I just… I wouldn’t say no to a little more fun in the bedroom.

It wasn’t Ryder’s truck parked in the driveway, though… it was Courtney’s car. She was standing at the door, holding a closed plastic container.

I check the yard before moving to the door and pulling it open. She bounced slightly when she saw me.

“Morning!” she chirped, clearing her throat as if to calm her bubbly self. “Or well, I guess it’s almost afternoon. Have you had breakfast yet? If not, that’s okay, because I brought you something!”

“Morning,” I said, taking the container she thrust at me.

“It’s a new recipe I’ve been concocting. Lemon, poppyseed, and raspberry pastries with a drizzle of icing. They look pretty, and Mason ate two, but he’s a kid. He’ll eat anything sweet, and I can no longer properly judge my own baking. I need an honest opinion before I attempt to sell them.”

I looked around the yard. “Oh, um, sure. Come on in.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking around. “Sorry, I tend to overthink my recipes. I shouldn’t have just barged in like this. Looks like you’re almost all settled in now, huh?”

“Almost,” I said, setting the container down on the coffee table.

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