Page 62 of Howling Night

“Hi,” I said, suddenly feeling very shy.

He took my hand and spun me in a slow circle. “You look absolutely incredible.”

“Thank you,” I said, grabbing my purse and stepping out onto the patio beside him. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“This old thing?” Ryder said, playfully tugging at his shirt.

The night air felt cool against my bare skin, but the heat in Ryder’s eyes as he continued to stare at me was enough to keep me warm. Whatever happened tonight, I knew one thing for certain — spending my money from the tavern was the right decision.

Ryder placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward his truck. The warmth of his palm radiated through the thin fabric of my dress. He walked me to the passenger side and opened the door for me.

He offered his hand, and I took it, being careful to keep myself covered as best as I could as I climbed up into the cab. Once I was settled, he closed the door gently and walked around the front. I watched him move, appreciating the way his dark jeans hugged his thighs and the button-down shirt stretched across his shoulders.

He hopped up into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He looked in the mirror, then at me, and then over his shoulder as he backed out of my driveway.

“So, where are we going?” I asked, smoothing my dress over my thighs.

“I thought we’d drive to Bresco for dinner. Then maybe dancing, or a movie after, whatever you prefer.” He glanced over at me, his eyes moving downward slightly before he forced them forward. “Or if you’re feeling adventurous, we could take a walk near the lake. It’s beautiful at night.”

“Let’s play it by ear,” I said, setting my purse down on the seat beside me.

As we bounced down the country road, the conversation flowed easily between us. The initial nervousness melted away with each mile.

“So what made you want to work construction?” I asked, genuinely curious about the man behind those piercing blue eyes.

“Inherited my dad’s business after he passed. I grew up swinging hammers and learning how to read blueprints. It was something I knew I would do from an early age,” he said, his hands gripping the wheel tighter as he turned onto the interstate. “What did you want to be when you were a kid? Something tells me it wasn’t what you did in the city.”

I laughed. “Well, my mom always said making a lot of money was important, so I guess that’s how that all happened, but I wanted to be an artist.”

“Oh, do you paint?”

“Not since high school,” I said, frowning. “Maybe one day, but honestly, I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.”

Ryder laughed.

We continued talking about trivial things — favorite foods, music, and favorite TV shows. Each revelation made him more real to me, less the mysterious alpha werewolf and more just... Ryder.

I caught him stealing glances at me while he drove, his eyes dropping occasionally to where my dress rode up on my thighs. But I was just as guilty because I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted to reach over and glide my hands up and down his arms. I’d practically drool watching how his forearms flexed when he turned the wheel.

It was annoying. I’d become one of those women who drooled over Ryder. But also, how could you not?

How the hell was I going to walk away from this man? The thought of returning to my sterile apartment in Chicago, the crowded streets, and the dull faces, suddenly felt suffocating. It wasn’t like I had a choice. I wasn’t going to make him give up his pack in order to keep a woman he barely knew safe.

Even though it sucked — really sucked — it was for the best. This was a vacation romance, nothing more, and we both knew it.

Ryder exited and turned on his blinker in the direction of Bresco. It was only a few minutes before he turned into the restaurant with a stone exterior and twinkling lights strung around the entrance.

“This looks fancy,” I said, the nerves returning.

“Only the best for tonight,” he said, parking in a spot toward the back of the lot.

He hopped out of the truck, raced to my door, and helped me down. His large, muscular body shielded me from sight while I managed to tug my dress into place.

Ryder took my hand in his and led me to the front of the building. He grabbed the handle and held the door for me, a small gesture I was not used to.

“Thanks,” I said, walking to the hostess table with him at my side.

Ryder stepped up to the hostess table. “Reservations for Black.”

---