Page 30 of Loan Wolf
Gabe, still distractingly naked, strode over and tipped her upright. “The body’s fine, the tire’s bent. Some of the paint is scuffed. She’ll ride again with a little work.” The chain had fallen off the gears, and the front tire squealed when Gabe tried to push it, so he picked it up and slung it onto his shoulder like it weighed nothing and took off down the trail.
Clara followed numbly, aware that she was probably still in some shock. The view was a fine distraction, at least, Gabe’s fine, firm butt cheeks working in front of her, his tattoos rippling with the effort of carrying the bike.
Poor Daisy.
Clara felt more stupid the further they went, and she found new pain in her hips and neck by the time they arrived at his truck, which was parked haphazardly in the middle of the pullout. The pond sparkled on the far side of the lot, the water still and inviting. Insects droned, and the sound of the highway was a distant hum.
“Don’t you want to get your clothes from the shore?” Clara said cautiously as Gabe hefted Daisy into the back of the truck, strapped her down, and went around to the driver’s side without offering to open the door for her.
“It’s not far to my house,” Gabe said coolly. “I figure you don’t want to wait around and see if anyone else comes and catches you before you can clean yourself up.”
Clara didn’t, and she didn’t want to risk infection by washing off in pond water.
She swung up into the passenger seat, hissing at the heat of the vinyl beneath her. At least she had shorts on; Gabe gave an involuntary yelp when he sat down and he shot up and pulled one of the bike blankets from the back seat to put under him, swearing all the while. He flipped the end up of over his lap, to Clara’s mixed relief.
As promised, the drive was short, bumpy, and uncomfortable. Gabe said nothing, and Clara didn’t feel like making conversation. If anyone that they passed noticed that Gabe was naked, they didn’t indicate it, and he pulled up in the alley behind a tiny farmhouse in a quiet neighborhood that was vaguely familiar.
The back door was unlocked and Gabe ushered her in and pointed out the bathroom. “There’s shampoo and conditioner. Probably nothing flowery like you’re used to. Hydrogen peroxide is under the sink. I’ll get you a clean towel.”
He was weirdly distant and disappeared into the house without waiting for Clara’s reply.
It wasn’t until she had turned on the water in the shower and was gingerly undressing that she wondered why Gabe wasn’t wet if he’d been skinny dipping, and how he’d heard her out-of-control skid, as far as he’d parked from where she fell.
25
GABE
Gabe hadn’t burst out of his clothing since he was a kid. Puberty had been a stormy time, and learning how to shift and manage his emotions had been a juggling act that had taken some time and most of his wardrobe to master. His torn-up T-shirt aesthetic wasn’t entirely by choice… at first.
He was glad that no one had witnessed him trying to struggle out of his ripped shirt and jeans as he bolted for Clara, and more glad that she hadn’t noticed the pieces of his wardrobe that were strewn off the sides of the path. At least his shoes had been in one piece, and he’d been able to scoop them up as he got back into the truck.
She seemed to accept his on-the-spot fabrications, but Gabe worried that she’d hit her head when she fell; she seemed distant and quiet since he’d found her.
Lick her, his wolf suggested. Curl up with her and comfort her!
“No,” Gabe said out loud.
This had already gone far enough.
Seeing her lying motionless in the broken ruins of a bush at the bottom of the cliff had nearly broken him. For one awful moment, he thought he’d lost her, and Gabe knew that he couldn’t go through that again.
Not ever.
He stomped down the stairs to his room in the basement and got swiftly dressed in fresh clothing. He paused to mourn his favorite jeans before hurrying back upstairs for the hall closest.
“I got your towel,” he said, knocking once on the door before entering. Clara didn’t protest his intrusion; it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her naked before.
“Thanks,” she said.
Gabe tried not to stare at the foggy silhouette of her as she rinsed her hair.
“You hungry?” he asked gruffly.
He was.
The adrenaline that had driven his paws to find her was wearing off, leaving an aching emptiness behind. He wanted to lick her as much as his wolf did, to hold her and assure himself that she was alright, to bury himself inside of her and hear her say his name.
Clara was quiet for a moment and Gabe wondered if she’d heard him over the sound of the running water. Just as he cleared his throat to repeat himself, she said, “Yes, please.”
