Page 9 of Wedding for My Werewolf

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Below, a shadow moved past Garrick’s front lawn—probably Eric on another patrol. Her chest tightened. The sheriff’s protective nature reminded her too much of how Martin had been at first, always showing up exactly when she needed help.

“Stop it,” she whispered to herself, pulling away from the window, and walking restlessly over to the rose in the vase by her bed. “Not everyone is like him.”

But the memories wouldn’t leave. He’d seemed so kind, but all the time he’d been using her to cover his illegal activities, setting her up to take the blame.

A knock at her door made her jump, bringing her back from the past.

“Tea?” Garrick’s deep voice carried through the wood. “I made a pot and thought you might want some.”

She wiped her eyes, surprised to find them damp. “Come in.”

The gargoyle ducked through the doorway, a steaming mug in his massive hand. He set it on the table by the window without comment, but his stone features softened at the sight of her tear-stained face.

“Bad memories make poor company,” he said. “I find tea helps.”

The simple kindness in his gesture cracked something in her chest. She nodded, not trusting her voice, and he turned to leave, his wings folding tight against his back.

“Whatever brought you here—you’re safe now.”

The door clicked shut behind him. She wrapped her hands around the warm mug, breathing in the calming scent of chamomile. Safe. She wanted so badly to believe that.

The tea helped calm her nerves, but sleep remained elusive and she found herself pacing. What if that man found her once again? What if he dragged her back and turned her over to the police? The what-ifs piled up like the snow outside her window.

A soft scratch against the glass made her freeze. Her heart thundered in her chest as she tiptoed over to the window. Just a branch, she decided, watching the trees sway outside. Themoon hung low and full, bathing the grounds in silver light. At first, she saw nothing but snow-laden trees and darkness, but then she spotted two golden eyes in the darkness beneath the trees. They gleamed with an otherworldly intelligence, watching, guarding.

Eric.

She wasn’t sure how she knew but she was certain of it. The sheriff. The protector of Fairhaven Falls. And somehow, for some reason, the protector of her. Her shoulders relaxed, tension draining away as she met that steady gaze through the glass.

His presence should have scared her. After all, wolves hunted rabbits, didn’t they? Instead, his silent watchfulness calmed her fears. She returned to her bed, the scent of tea and roses lingering in the air, and pulled the covers up to her chin. The memory of those golden eyes followed her into sleep, a silent promise of safety in the dark.

A week later,Robin pushed open the inn’s heavy oak door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies swirling around her as Alison looked up from behind the counter.

“Robin! Come in, come in. I just pulled snickerdoodles from the oven.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said nervously as she followed the other woman into a cozy kitchen that opened onto a plant-filled conservatory.

“Please. You’re saving me from alphabetizing guest records.” Alison placed a plate of cookies on the worn kitchen table. “How’s life at the gargoyle’s nest?”

“Quiet. But it’s good. I like seeing that I’m making a difference. And Garrick is very kind. He paid me this morning.” In cash, even though she hadn’t gathered up the courage to ask yet. “So I thought I’d come by and pay for the night I stayed here.”

Alison immediately shook her head.

“Nonsense. Flora would never forgive me.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, still hovering at the door of the kitchen.

“I’m positive. Now come and sit down. I’d love to know what you think of Fairhaven Falls.”

She hesitated, but the other woman’s smile was so friendly that she couldn’t resist. How long had it been since she’d had a simple, friendly conversation with another person?

“Well, it’s certainly different. I saw a yeti snowboarding down Main Street yesterday.”

“That was probably John.” Alison laughed. “I admit that the town is different, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Maybe.” She concentrated on the cookie Alison handed her, avoiding the other woman’s eyes. “Though the sheriff seems to pop up everywhere I go.”

“Eric?” Alison’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

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