Page 46 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

Ginger smacks him on the shoulder, and some of her bubbling humor fades, but not all of it. She still retains her glittering, teasing eyes. When I look around the table, it seems I am being left out of the loop because both her parents also seem to have a knowing look on their faces while trying to cover it up with cups or forks full of food.

Hunter, however, is still as a stone statue next to me and appears to be glaring murderous daggers at his sister, his cheeks turning a flattering shade of pink.

What the actual hell is going on here?

“Am I missing something? Is there something about this wolf that I should know? Because he’s come back again since then, and if he’s going to start foaming at the mouth and eat me, I’d like to know.”

Ginger laughs again and hands the photo back to her mother, who takes another look before passing it on to me. No one but Sophie seems to be able to answer my questioning concerns for my life.

“No, no. He won’t eat, bite, or do anything of the sort to you. He’s a kind, sweet wolf who will probably be more protective of you than threatening to you.”

“He might hump your leg if you let him get too friendly though,” Ginger snickers from behind her wine glass. “Ow,” she flinches and scowls as if someone just kicked her under the table.

“How come you all seem to know this wolf personally?”

Everyone but Ryder looks at each other waiting to see who will answer. Michael is apparently the chosen one to speak for the family.

“He’s lived in this area for many years, and we see him on occasion. Feed him sometimes.” He smiles. “Like I told you before, you’re completely safe with him. Ignore my daughter’s comments she’s just pulling your leg.”

I turn slightly in my chair to get a better look at Hunter the only one to not make a comment on the wolf and its presence in town. “What about you Hunter? Have you seen the wolf before? He was on your land.”

Hunter lets out a slow breath and finally faces me, easing his tight posture just a bit. The pulse in my neck picks up pace when those damn baby blues lock onto me. But before he can open his annoyingly kissable lips to answer, Ginger chimes in from across the table.

“Oh, he sees him the most. They’re great friends. Aren’t ya big bro?”

Hunter’s eased expression pulls tight again, and his mouth puckers in annoyance. I don’t have siblings, but from his expression, I can only imagine this isn’t the first time he’s looked like he wants to ring his sister’s neck.

To his credit, he doesn’t respond to or acknowledge her jab that I don’t understand.

“Yes. I’ve seen him before. You’re perfectly safe with him. Like my mother said, he’s a bit protective of humans on his land.”

Ginger muffles another giggle. I and Hunter ignore her. I’ll have to ask her later why she thought this was so funny.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind when I see him again.”

Hunter nods, turns his eyes down, goes back to his plate, and attempts to finish the last couple of bites.

I take one lingering look at the Polaroid of the wolf before slipping it back into my purse.

For the rest of the evening, there’s no more talk of the wolf but plenty of talk about the town and, unfortunately, more of myself. At least as much as I’m willing to divulge. Simple things like relationship status and favorite meal I’ve eaten at Dottie’s so far.

They’re all entertained by my stories of burnt toast and microwave dinners. I’m invited over for dinner again whenever I’m pining for a home-cooked meal or even cooking lessons.Which I gratefully accept. Planning for a day next week to come back over for Sophie to instruct me on proper oven use and a few simple low-ingredient meals. She also says if I bring my toaster over, she’ll explain the settings and see if we can resolve the burnt toast issue.

At the end of a long and wonderful evening, Hunter drives me back to my cabin, walks me to my door, and bids me a quick good night before high-tailing it to his truck.

He may have attempted to seem uninterested and avoided physical contact, but I can still tell he wants to know me better. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Even though I know it’s a bad idea, and I should also be attempting to keep my distance from the hot mayor, I just can’t stop the growing desire that makes my pulse flutter and core clench whenever I get close to him.

Chapter 14 – Hunter

What the hell is Ginger doing at my house on a Saturday morning? After dinner last night I’m not particularly thrilled to see my little sister pulling up my driveway, top down, music blaring as usual—something poppy and catchy, from what I can tell through the window.

Opening my front door, I greet Ginger, who is wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, since I wasn’t expecting visitors today. She hops out of her car and strolls over to me, spinning her keys on her finger and whistling the tune of the music that was just playing from her speakers.

“Hey there, bro.”

“What are you doing here, Ginger?”

She frowns at me and pouts, stopping on the bottom step of my porch. Her gaze catches on the broken column, and she raises an eyebrow in question.

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