Chapter 21
“Clay, did you bring your guitar?” one of the wolves questions him.
“No.” That’s all he says, his gaze on my body again. I try to angle away from him.
‘takes everything I have not to look at them. Instead, I watch Dallas start to strum his guitar. He smiles softly at me. Fingers running along the steel strands, mournful music coming out the wooden belly. He makes the guitar sing. I just can’t help but be hypnotized by the poetry. Firelight dances in his eyes. It’s a moment we’re sharing before a very low growl tumbles into the night. The music of the guitars barely covers it up.
“I should go. Thanks for today, Dallas. I appreciate it so much. You have no idea.” Giving everyone at the fire a little wave goodbye, I turn, walking away.
“Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.” We stroll side by side in silence until we reach the car.
“Peally, Dallas, thank you for today. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.” He steps slightly closer to me as I fumble with my keys.
“Anytime. You’re welcome here anytime.” He’s not looking away this time. He’s holding his ground. A fingertip touches the side of my face. It slides against my jawline. I lean into it slightly, and his other hand goes on the curve of my hip, pulling me toward him. Our bodies are flush; everything is touching. Slowly, he inches closer to me, giving me time to pull away if I want to. His lips are so close to mine, so close, before I pull away from him. Feeling heat against my back, I can feel him watching this moment, this first moment I almost had.
“That was…I’m sorry, Rya.” His hand runs over his shaved head.
“I have to go.” I’m flustered, red–faced, breathing hard, heart hammering in my chest.
“That was stupid of me.”
“It’s okay. I need to go.” I close the door. I need to leave now.
He’s looking down at the ground, upset with himself. All i can feel are eyes burning into me as I drive away. They don’t leave me, not until I’m far away from his sight.
Summer is now falling into autumn. I like how my dad’s in his flannel shirt, a rake in his hand, burning the dry leaves in my fire pit by the lake that he helped me build. White
moke curls around in the wind, shrouding the nearby woods with its opaque veil.
My mother helps with all the canning, collecting the harvest that another wolf left in the
arth for me to reap in mason jars that line my counter, all warm and cooling. Such a Bounty, I think. Mother Nature has so much to offer as I drink my warm pumpkin tea. That old wolf’s smell is almost gone from my home, just the faintest trace that she was ever here before me. I just like the thought of something just belonging to me.
A kiss to my shoulder has me smiling at my mother. She presses her cheek to my face. smelling me into her before pulling away.
“Thanks again, Mom, for helping me. I appreciate it so much. I couldn’t have done it myself.” So much work, it took all afternoon yesterday just to pick and wash all the
tomatoes.
“I think that I’m enjoying it more than you, Rya.” My whole family is becoming closer, healing slowly from the poison that so ruined us.
“Dad, you should start the barbecue. They should be here soon.” My sisters and their mates are coming to celebrate my birthday. This will be my first family dinner at my home.
I clean up the kitchen, making sure that everything is tidy, and put out some wine like grownups do. We are all grown wolves now.
Throughout the day, I can feel eyes on me. I can feel him watching me with my family at times then leaving, coming b times then leaving, coming back…I can’t smell him, the wind is the wrong
can feel him. The hair on my arms stand on end at times.
direction, but I
I don’t acknowledge his eyes, refusing to let him know that I feel him on me.
My older sister arrives with her mate, a homemade birthday cake in her hands, vanilla with cherry chip icing.
My middle sister arrives next with bags of presents that her mate carries in his hands. All
Chapter 21
greet me with cheek pressed against cheek. Their smells mingle with the steaks that are now grilling.
They all take places at my table, filling it with their smiling faces, pouring wine into the glasses. Everyone is in good spirits. I can’t stop the happiness from pouring out of me. I wonder if they can smell it.
The old wooden table holds the summer bounty full of grilled vegetables my garden provided.
As we take our seats, I hear a car pull into my driveway, footsteps crushing on the gravel, getting closer, then gradually getting further away, as if someone changed their minds. Getting up, I go to the front door and look out. Dallas is just opening his car door, getting in.
“Dallas,” I call to him. He looks my way.
“I saw the smoke from my side of the lake. I thought you might want some company. I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll see you Monday,” he calls out from his car.
C
