Page 14 of Cold Moon

Not that anyone would have given me such an option, but if offered both Linden and Aspen Grove, as hot as the giant scowly alpha was, I’d have picked Linden, every time. Hot was great, but I wasn’t the kind of guy who was turned on by terror.

Besides, Dante Reid might not be enormous or terrifying, but he was a big, solid alpha. Now that he was back to eating real food, he was gaining a little of that lost weight back. And his shoulders had never stopped being broad and perfect.

I shook myself with the reminder that I was not in the clinic to ogle the patients. Yes, Dante Reid was a beautiful alpha, but he was my patient. He was there for my help, not my objectification.

Even if he did have the nicest butt I’d ever seen.

Not that I’d looked.

But you know, those gowns don’t cover a thing unless you hold them down every moment, and helping him around the clinic, I had been bound to get an eyeful. I was still just trying to be remotely professional about it.

All I had to do when Dante’s annoying gown fell open was repeat my mantra: What Would Linden Do? And it set me right back on track. Because Linden would never let a pair of beautiful eyes—or cheeks—get in the way of being a medical professional.

We were taking our third exciting stroll around the clinic for the morning, and he probably didn’t need my help anymore, but for some reason, kept taking my hand every time he got up.

Not that I minded. Yes, yes, Linden probably wouldn’t have held his hand. I’m weak, and a gorgeous man wanted to hold my hand. It wasn’t like there was no reason for it.

The door shook like it was going to open and he tensed, his head turning to stare in its direction, like he was going to be able to run away when he was still holding my hand just to walk.

“It’s just the wind,” I assured him. Odd that he couldn’t tell no one was outside. Even my pitiful wolf hearing could tell there were no heartbeats outside the door, no footsteps leading up to it, no cars in the lot. “It happens a lot in the fall, the wind hitting the door and making it seem like someone’s out there.”

He nodded, but didn’t look away from the door for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head and gave me a tiny half-smile. Ugh, I was getting so attached to those. “Sorry. I just... you know.”

I did not know, but I smiled and nodded. And, well, maybe I did kind of know. I mean, the guy had nearly had his guts ripped out. It was probably normal to be nervous for a while after that. I’d have probably still been shaking in my boots.

Okay, no, I wouldn’t have survived those injuries at all, but if I had, I’d still be terrified.

When we got back around to the bed, he sat down on the edge of it, heavily, glancing to me, then the door, then to me again.

I looked at the door, half expecting someone to be standing there, even though I’d heard no one approaching. Finally, I turned back to him. “Is something wrong?”

“I...” He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw, and took a deep breath. “I don’t have any clothes.”

For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. Was this some kind of coded message? Was he offended by the gown? Oh no, had he noticed me trying not to ogle him when the gown didn’t cover him properly, and I’d made him uncomfortable? My cheeks heated, and I glanced away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to look.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then he asked, “Huh?”

When I glanced over at him, he was biting his lip, staring at me in utter confusion.

Oh my god, that was even worse. He hadn’t noticed, and I’d confessed and made it awkward. Go Skye.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. So, clothes. You, um, I mean, there’s the gown. That’s technically clothes. You just have to, like, hold it closed in the back. Right?” I turned and started to tidy the bed, which wasn’t really possible while he was sitting on the edge of it, but never let it be said Skye Johnson wasn’t determined.

If only determination could make the clinic floor swallow me so I could shut up. So he’d stop looking at me. And my cheeks would stop being on fire.

“But it’s not mine,” he finally said, and what?

The gown. He meant that the gown... what, did he think we were going to repossess it? I mean, technically when he was done with it, it would go back in the laundry and get—

“Oh my god, you mean real clothes,” I realized aloud, staring at nothing. The man literally had no clothes.

He nodded slowly, watching the side of my face. When I turned to look at him, he glanced away. “Even if there were Groves willing to go into Reid territory to get my clothes, Cain probably wouldn’t hand them over. Pretty sure him trying to kill me means I’m not welcome in the pack anymore.”

Cain.

Not that I’m one to eavesdrop—yes, that’s an utter lie, but give me a break, what else is there to do when you’re stuck in a town as small as Grovetown?—but I’d heard the name Cain Reid. He’d been Maxim Reid’s replacement; the one who had led the Reid pack when they’d attacked Grovetown.

He’d been one of the few wolves who had, in fact, died in the fight, and not just slunk off into the woods.

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