“Red sky at morning,” Lauren murmured. She eyed the wolfdog sitting at the bottom of the porch steps with a dubious expression. “I’m still not convinced you won’t eat me if Tait doesn’t feed you.” Elbows propped on her knees as she occupied the top stair of the porch, she leaned forward to plop her chin into her cupped hands.
Chewy stared at her, unblinking. He didn’t bare his teeth. Tait considered that a win on the side of detente between the two. Lauren wasn’t exactly a dog person. Which made revealing his secrets a little tough. Well, a lot tough, since he turned furry. He watched the animal, noting Chewy’s attitude. Alert, focused, but in a way indicating that the hybrid was…guarding Lauren? Even though she’d showered, his scent would still be embedded in her skin. Chewy acknowledged Tait as alpha male. Was the dog now accepting Lauren as the alpha female?
“It’s not fair, you know.” Lauren continued speaking to Chewy. Tait was pretty sure the words were aimed at him, though she had no idea he was eavesdropping. “He doesn’t talk. I operate on words, on information, and he’s even worse than you when it comes to sharing.” She leaned forward going almost nose to nose with the wolfdog. “The only thing you share is drool and hair.”
Chewy growled, the rumble coming from deep in his chest.
“Oh, hush. You know I’m right. You’re a dog.” The emphatic distaste in her voice was obvious to animal and man alike. “Dogs drool and shed. You can’t help it, I suppose. But he’s…” She raised her hand and made circular motions in the air with it, like she could conjure up words. “He’s a man. And yes, men are portrayed as being reticent, but he takes the definition to whole new levels. He’s beyond stoic.”
She put her hands behind her and leaned back, staring up at the sky. “Still red. Good thing I’m not a sailor, huh? I should take warning though. Getting involved with him?” She tucked her chin so she could meet Chewy’s eyes. “Bad idea. Still, we’re practically living together. Besides, it’s not like I want anything too TMI because…I don’t care how many women he’s slept with, or if he’s briefs or boxers. Or commando.” That last came out breathy. “Okay, maybe I do care about the bimbos, because…well, just because.”
Stretching out, Chewy lay down and rested his muzzle on his front paws. He cocked one ear in her direction, as if asking for her to continue. After a few moments of contemplative silence, she said, “I mean, my life’s on the line, y’know? I found those darn files and now all these people want to shoot me. Or worse. So, I ran away. And like an idiot, I called someone I thought I could trust. Because I don’t make a good spy. Or criminal. Or…I’m not like that. I’m a historical archivist for goodness sake. I don’t even watch James Bond movies. I should rectify that because I’m definitely on the run now. And because I might have been ready when this big, hunky guy arrived. A hot, handsome hero who rides in, kisses me, and bam! I’m at his mercy.” She sighed deeply. “And worse.”
She tilted her head and Chewy mimicked the motion. “Can you keep a secret?” The dog whrrfled and cocked his ears forward. “We did it last night. And I mean we did it. The man is…” Another lusty sigh as she leaned her head back eyes closed and a smile playing over her swollen lips. Lips he’d kissed into that condition.
Tait moved closer to the open door, not that he couldn’t hear her, but so he could watch her closely. Her monologue was enlightening.
“When I say something meaningful to him, I feel like I’m talking to the air,” she told Chewy. “Or talking to you. It’s about the same.” Chewy had crept up the steps until his was pressed against her legs and her next sigh was deep enough it ruffled his fur. “How can he not know how I feel?”
Oh, he knew how she thought she felt. He hadn’t been oblivious to the side-long glances, the sighs, the lip nibbles. And her scent—which was a dead giveaway to a Wolf. She’d wanted him. At least sexually. Which was good because he wanted her so badly his balls were a permanent shade of indigo blue, even after their marathon session last night. Lauren had convinced herself that she had feelings for him. Hell, he was a moonstruck Wolf and the pheromones tended to work both ways. He’d fucked her, had had a fleeting hope that would be the end of it.
But, as he’d suspected after fucking her, he’d never be able to let her go. And he wouldn’t be able to hide what he was from her. Dammit, if he had any honor at all, he’d tell her now. Before things got any more complicated between them. His chin dropped to his chest and he rubbed the back of his neck. Things couldn’t get more complicated between them. She was under a death sentence from a corporation that hunted his kind for experimentation. And she was the mate of a man who turned into a wolf, the mate of a wolf who turned into a man.
“Yeah, sure, you’re thinking. Mr. Macho Man and Nerd Girl are a match made in rom-com hell. There’s no way a man like him could really be interested in me. We did the deed. Several times. But I truly believe I could have been anybody. And I mean that in two words. Any. Body. Oh, he was diligent.”
As he watched, goosebumps prickled her skin as a fine shiver traced through her. “Whoo, boy was he diligent. And he really seemed to enjoy himself but we’re right back to that whole opposites thing. I know that but still…” She emitted another huge sigh but Chewy’s head swiveled left as his eyes caught movement in the dew-covered grass.
Lauren didn’t notice at first, she was so wrapped up in her feelings of woe. “Are you even listening to me?” The wolfdog rose, head down, feet almost prancing as he stalked something across the yard. “Ha,” she muttered. “I’m so dull I even bored the scary dog.” She studied the animal as he crept along, head down, tail stiff, canines glinting ivory white in the first rays of sun dappling the area in front of Tait’s cabin. The dog was acting weird. She pushed to her feet and shaded her eyes. Was he— The dog sprang at something and she heard a crunching sound.
Chewy returned, head high, tail feathered and wagging, with something in his mouth. Lauren flinched as the wolfdog dropped his “present” at her feet. She recoiled, recognizing the lump of bloody fur—a bunny. She covered her mouth with her hand as she started to retch.
Tait faded back into the interior of his house. He would keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself. No matter what his wolf said, no matter how man and animal both raged to possess her, he had to let her go. She couldn’t be his, because how could she feel anything real for him once she understood he was a beast twice as scary as the half-feral wolfdog that had just presented her with a freshly-killed rabbit?