Page 66 of Can't Help Growling in Love
June grins at me. “You can joke all you want, but maybe not after I’ve just been denied your dick, even if it was my decision. It’s cruel.”
“I understand.” I press a hand over my heart, then lean in for a quick kiss to her cheek. “No more dick jokes unless said dick is readily available to you for your pleasure.”
We sit down to eat, and the first mouthful of the omelet has me closing my eyes in appreciation.
“This is amazing.” I put my hand on June’s and squeeze her fingers. “Thank you for making me breakfast.”
She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I guess I like taking care of you, too. Maybe some of your wolfishness is rubbing off on me.”
“You take care of people every day,” I tell her. “I didn’t do a thing to make you an amazing person.”
Her eyes light up at my words. “True, but seeing you enjoy this is still a great feeling.”
“Maybe we can make a deal,” I suggest. “I’ll cook the meaty meals, and you do the vegetables. My doc will definitely appreciate it.”
June reaches across the table, offering me her hand. “Deal.”
I almost don’t recognize the emotion that spreads through me as I watch her put away her breakfast at my dining table. Then it hits me. It’s contentment, an elusive sensation I haven’t experienced often.
I rub the center of my chest, trying to chase away the tension that follows immediately after.
She’s here now, and she said that she’ll stay with me for the full moon, but we haven’t discussed the rest of the issues yet.
“Do you have any of those to-go coffee mugs?” June asks, oblivious to my sudden discomfort. “I think I’ll take it to go. I need to get ready, and I don’t want it to get cold.”
“Sure.” I stuff the last corner of my toast in my mouth and stand, collecting our plates. “Go, I’ve got this.”
She gives me a brilliant smile and rushes back toward the bedroom. I pour her coffee into an insulated mug and screw on the top, then lean my hands on the countertop and hunch my back, growling low in my throat.
Letting June go is getting more difficult the closer we get to the full moon. Tomorrow evening, the moon will rise just beforeseven. It won’t reach its peak until almost midnight, but if its pull is this strong with more than twenty-four hours to go, I know it’ll completely take over my instincts by nightfall.
If I had it my way, we’d remain in bed all day, fucking and sleeping in preparation for tomorrow. I always schedule my free days for the full moon, but now I wish I’d taken today off as well. I’ll be useless in the studio.
Or maybe it’s good that I’ll have something to distract me tonight. The sense of obligation toward the Monster Tunes station and Stella will keep me from stalking around the hospital in my wolf form, trying to get a glimpse of June through the front door.
I shake myself and rummage around the kitchen to scrounge up two lunches’ worth of food and pack it for us. I’ll drop June off at the hospital, then run to the store for some essentials so we’ll have enough to eat over the next few days.
When June appears in the hallway, I’m dressed and decent, though I’ve given up on trying to force myself into my human form. I need the more sensitive nose and ears of my half form to follow every change in my mate’s scent and breathing. If it’s freaky that I’m monitoring her heartbeat, I don’t even care anymore.
I only want to make sure that she’s still into this, still ready for tomorrow.
My worries disappear as she walks right up to me and puts her arms around my waist. She buries her face in my hoodie and squeezes me tight, her sweet scent mellowing out.
“You okay?” I cup the back of her neck and tip her head up so I can see her face. “Your scent changed just now.”
She grimaces. “I don’t know how I’ll make it through my shift today. I can’t get distracted while I’m helping people!”
“Shit, and here I was, worrying over fucking up my lines when I’m reading out the Nightly News.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Now I feel like a fool.”
June’s frown deepens. “Your work is important, Asher. Don’t talk like it isn’t.” She pokes me in the center of my chest. “Do you know how many difficult moments you make easier for people? Your program cheers up everyone at the hospital. Mrs. Marino—this lovely seventy-four-year-old lady—asked us last week if we’d play your show during her gallbladder removal. She said that your voice calms her and figured it would work even if she was under anesthesia.”
I blink in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes are suspiciously bright now, and she sniffles before tugging me into another hug. “And I listened to the audiobooks you narrated during some pretty tough times, too. So don’t talk like your job doesn’t matter, okay?”
I exhale, letting myself relax against her. “Thank you for telling me that.”
A beautiful autumn evening greets us as we step out of the front door. It’s getting dark, and the stars are coming out, but the sky still holds some color in the west.
