Page 96 of Howl You Doin?
“It’s nice. I just don’t know what it all means yet, and it’s still a lot to process.”
“Historical books, eh?” he eventually asks again as we walk down a winding path.
Connor is all calm, cool, and collected, and inwardly, I’m beginning to freak out a bit. A witch says you’re starting your period like she’s reading from a crystal ball, and now I’m having the best and worst period of my life.
A cramp starts in my side, but I ignore it. Cramps I can handle, falling for this man? Not so much.
“Come now, talking about your favorite books can’t be that hard, can it?” He chuckles, and I realize I still haven’t answered him, locked in my own thoughts.
He makes me want to grab hold with both hands and not let go, but it’s all so sudden, I can practically feel my hormones going haywire. My emotions are a roller coaster, worse than a wooden Screaming Eagle rollercoaster on steroids. I’m also worried that what’s happened to me has taken control and is making me think irrationally—I want how I’m feeling to be the real me and not some weird “wolf howling” thing.
“Devil in Winter, by Lisa Kleypas.” I say, trying to remember the main plot of the story while I shove down my emotions. Embarrassment heats my cheeks at the spice in it. “Do you read?”
The impression I get from him is that if he does read, it’s probably nothing fiction.
“Every day.” He smirks. “Watch your step.”
The basket on his arm swings wildly, almost smacking me in the shoulder when he comes to a stop, but then I see why. The hedgerow stops and so does the stone pathway. He holds out a hand and I take it.
“Where are you taking me? I’m starting to think you’re pulling me far enough away from the castle that no one will hear my screams.”
“Read that in one of your books, did you? Don’t worry, I would only ever murder your pussy.” His tone says he’s completely serious.
My cheeks warm again. “No, I’m not into dark romance, thank you very much, but I have a friend back home who eats it up like a feral book goblin.”
My lips twitch into a grin as I think about Josephine and vaguely wonder if she and her husband are getting along okay.
It’s strange how after a divorce you sort of lose the friends you shared, but I guess sometimes that’s for the best. If I had to sit around witnessing Josie’s happy marriage every day, I would have lost it, and I would have never met Connor.
My stomach dips and sadness wells inside me at the thought of never crossing paths with this man. I stare at his T-shirt-covered back and marvel at how not that long ago I almost hated him. From that first night on, I knew he didn’t like me. Or I suppose he did, and he just had a really fucked-up way of showing it. And now… I didn’t know this level of romance existed.
We walk by a patch of thicket so dense you can’t see the castle, and a large lake comes into view.
Frogs croak loudly, and one hops in the distance from a large lily pad, making an audible splash and rippling the placid lake. Ruins sit on a small hill in the distance, with a short bridge crossing the water and hiding part of the crescent moon.
“Oh wow,” I mutter, taking in the sloping beach and giant lily pads on one side. My gaze snags on a picturesque willow tree growing from the bank in the distance, its branches sweeping into the still lake, and a sense of calm washes over me. “It’s beautiful.”
“I come here a lot to run—as my shifted self.”
“Really?” My eyebrows go up at that.
How is it possible that no one ever sighted him? I mean, surely someone would notice a big-ass wolf running through a forest, right?
He points past the bridge. “There is nothing but woods for miles around. It’s a patch of forest just perfect for me.” The corner of his lip lifts wryly. “Well, nowus. The castle is so high and the forest is dense enough in spring we can’t be seen from the windows. Outside the property, the other side is national forest. We have the run of the land if you want.”
He pivots and points behind me at the trees and I turn to see he’s right. I can barely make out the castle at all.
My tummy rumbles, and I glance at the wicker basket.
“I packed some meats and cheeses for you, and plenty of desserts.” His voice rumbles, and suddenly, I’m living a fantasy.
A small red blanket emerges from the basket, and he splays it across the ground and gestures for me to sit.
As soon as I’m comfortable, Connor pushes a small plate into my hand, then unwraps a platter that has a little bit of everything on it and places it down on the blanket. I can tell he put in a lot of care into what’s here, and that he wants to figure out what I do and don’t like. A happy smile pulls at my lips as I breathe in the fragrant scents so rich and savory. This is about to be the best meal of my life—I just know it.
“Thank you.”
I meet his gaze shyly as he grabs some foods of his own and settles in to eat. He takes a hefty bite of roast beef as I place a piece of the lemon tart onto my plate to eat neatly.
