Page 18 of Conner's Luna

"What sandwich are you going to eat, Bailey?" I ask her again. Like hell, I will let her eat a salad and fries. That's nothing.

She sighs softly. "Conner... I don't eat meat."

"Shit," I growl, tearing out of the parking lot to the squeal of tires and Bailey's soft shriek. "What about the roast I ate at your house?" I ask her. How did Mom guess she was a vegetable eater?

"For my dad," she responds softly.

I pull into a Subway a second later. "This is healthier, anyway," I mutter at her astonished face. Who doesn't eat meat? How do you survive?

"I get a cookie."

"Sure thing, babe."

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Bailey

I smile as we drive into my town. My town, because it still feels like home, even after being in Moons Village for a few months. Gosh, I miss this place. I feel tears prick my eyes as I press my palm to the cool glass and try to take in all the sights as Conner drives toward the far side of Durham to Glen Woods Cemetery.

"You miss this place?" he asks quietly.

I nod without looking at him. "Everything I love is here, except my dad. It's home."

"No," he surprises me with how abrupt he sounds. So different from just a second ago. "You belong with- in, ah, Colorado."

I turn to stare at him blankly. "Durham is in Colorado, Conner."

"Closer, Bailey," he snaps. He rubs his hand over his face, muttering something under his breath that I don't catch.

I frown, confused. Closer? To what? He is such a weird guy.

"Hey, is that your old school?" he asks suddenly, pointing toward the two-story brick building.

"Oh, my goodness, yes!" I squeal and press my face to the window. "Let's go see my friends!" I still know most of the junior - well, now they're seniors - class.

"They're in school, Bailey."

"Afterwards, OK?"

He sighs and grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers. I glance down before hurriedly looking away to stare back out the window. He doesn't mention it and I... yup, too much of a coward to ask him why he decided to hold my hand.

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Conner

I look down at the tombstone. It makes it all more real, somehow. Her mother's name, Melinda Anne Washington, is inscribed on the dull grey surface. It makes me thankful that my parents are all still alive and well. I can't imagine the pain of losing one of them.

Her hand squeezes mine. Her breathing is thick with tears, but she is quiet.

"C'mere, Bailey," I tug her into my chest, and she breaks. Body-wrenching sobs shake her, and I hold her tighter with both arms wrapped around her firmly. I let her cry. My wolf is whimpering, sounds of sympathy and understanding.

This sucks. This girl is unbelievably sweet. Why does so much bad shit happen to her? It starts to rain lightly and I hold her more tightly. I don't want her to get sick again. "Time to go, babe."

"OK," Bailey says. She turns in my arms to look at her mom's gravestone. "I love you, mommy. I miss you. So does Dad. He keeps burning our food. You should send him an angel that cooks." She hiccups a laugh, "but I don't think even one of God's best could save his cooking." She presses her fingertips to her lips, then touches her mother's name.

It's one of the sweetest things I've ever heard. I have to pinch my thigh with my free hand to keep from crying like a little pussy. We walk back to my truck with her snuggled into my side. It feels natural.

"Tell me a story," she demands totally out of the blue.

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