Page 5 of Ravenous

Her little forehead crinkled. She had a red ring from the popsicle around her mouth. “What?”

I leaned in and looked into her innocent little eyes. “Thinking something might happen to you.”

“But I’m okay, Daddy.” She reached out and patted my hand. As if she was the one offering comfort. “Joy is my friend.”

Joy. That was the neighbor.

I considered Remy, biting back my automatic response, which would be to tell her not to trust strangers or whatever bullshit parents were supposed to say these days. I’d picked this town, this house, because of how safe it was. How she could go and visit neighbors and play with other kids on the block.

I cocked my head. “How do you know she’s a friend?”

Remy returned to coloring, dragging an orange crayon up and down over a stick figure like she was giving it clothes. “She smells good.”

For some reason, that made goosebumps rise on my arms.

She smells good.

“You were trusting your wolf instincts.” I gave her a nod. Parenting was a little at a time kind of guidance.

Wolf pups didn’t shift until puberty, and some packs–especially those in cities or more integrated with humans–didn’t teach their pups what they were until they were old enough to honor the pack secret.

But I’d had to explain to Remy when we were on the rodeo circuit that I couldn’t be hurt by the bulls because I was a wolf. The animals had scared her, and that helped her watch me without crying every time I let myself get thrown to make it seem realistic. More than that, though, I believed it was important to teach her to listen to her wolf instincts. To differentiate between her animal side and her little girl side. I didn’t know anything about being female, so I was trying my best.

It was true that I had to be careful Remy didn’t say the wrong thing to a human, but I wanted my daughter to know what she was. I was proud of her. Proud of what she was and what she’d become. I’d taught her to distinguish the scent of a human from a wolf. She already knew she could talk freely about what she was in front of wolves, but had to keep our secret from humans.

“Yeah, I know she’s a human, but she’s the good kind.” Remy kept coloring, trading out the orange crayon for a yellow one, which she used to scratch a ball of color over the stick figure’s head.

I scrubbed a hand over my beard. “What’s the good kind?”

“The kind like Joy.”

Kids said the damnedest things. In my mind, I returned to the neighbor’s back stoop. I’d been wrapped up in the relief of finding Remy and the agitation of unused adrenaline, so I hadn’t paid enough attention to the woman. Specifically, since Remy mentioned it, the way she smelled.

But Remy was right. It had been pleasant.

Sweet and warm, like fresh-baked donuts. Like honey vanilla caramels, too gooey to eat.

But now that I recalled it, her scent had only further agitated me. Like, it irritated me that my wolf had found her scent pleasing. It made me cranky. Orcrankier.

I remembered the way her gaze had gone to my dick when I squatted down. That had been a dumb move, but I wasn’t modest. Not that I’d planned to flash my neighbor wearing only my four-year-old’s tiny fucking towel.

A flush had spread across her chest, but she hadn’t looked embarrassed.

No, there had been a boldness in the way she looked at me. Like she’d been drinking me in.

Like she was interested. Like she wanted me.

I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck, which seemed to heat with the thought. Because for some reason, I was glad she’d been interested. That she found my body appealing.

Joy. The neighbor. Pretty blonde hair all messy on top of her head. Blue eyes, full lips that seemed to be in a perpetual smile.

I wasn’t interested, but I should have shaken her hand instead of showing her my dick. Then I’d have her scent on my palm to review now. I could have introduced myself.

I’d just bought the house next to her and had a preschooler who I apparently couldn’t trust to stay in the house when I told her to.

She might be someone I could ask to babysit now and again. Like, if I had to run to the grocery store after bedtime. Hell, I’d been worried about what I was going to do with Remy after her morning preschool during the summer calving season, which would be starting up any day now.

This was my first season as foreman. I’d missed the spring calving. So while I was in charge, I was winging it a bit based on what this ranch did with their cattle. I figured if I had to go to the ranch at night, I’d pull her out of bed and make a little nest of blankets for her to sleep in my pickup while I worked.

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