Page 14 of Love, Clumsily
“Deal,” I agreed, picking up my bag. “Now let’s go meet your wolf family before I lose my nerve.”
Chapter 6
The “pack house,” as Mason called it, was actually a sprawling property about twenty minutes outside Pine Haven, deep in the forest where the nearest neighbors were miles away. The main house was a beautiful log cabin on steroids, with a massive deck wrapping around three sides and enough windows to keep a cleaning service busy for days.
Several other smaller cabins dotted the property, connected by gravel paths winding through the trees. As we pulled up in Mason’s truck, I counted at least five other vehicles already parked in the large clearing that served as a driveway.
“Home sweet home,” Mason said, turning off the engine. He must have sensed my apprehension because he reached over to squeeze my hand. “It’s going to be fine. They already like you.”
“They don’t even know me,” I pointed out.
“They know you make me happy,” he said simply. “That’s enough for them.”
Before I could respond, the front door of the main house burst open, and Riley bounded down the steps. Mason’s sister was his opposite in many ways—petite where he was massive, graceful where he was clumsy (in human form, at least), and blonde where he was dark. But they shared the same amber eyes and the same intense energy that seemed to hum just beneath their skin.
“Finally!” she called, approaching the truck. “Mom was about to send out a search party. Or make more food, which is basically the same thing in this family.”
Mason rolled his eyes as we climbed out of the truck. “We’re right on time, Ri.”
Riley ignored him, focusing on me instead. “Julian! So glad you could make it for your first moon.” She hugged me with surprising strength, lifting me slightly off my feet despite being several inches shorter. When she released me, she sniffed noticeably. “You smell good. Like Mason, but better.”
“Um, thanks?” I said, not sure how to respond to being sniffed.
Mason slung an arm around my shoulders. “Stop scenting my mate, Ri. It’s weird.”
“Everything we do is weird to humans,” she said dismissively. “He might as well get used to it.” She linked her arm through mine, effectively separating me from Mason. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone while this one gets the bags.”
Mason made a halfhearted protest, but Riley was already dragging me toward the house. I glanced back to see him watching us with a mixture of exasperation and fondness as he hefted both our bags from the truck bed.
“Don’t look so terrified,” Riley said as we approached the house. “We don’t bite. Well, not humans, anyway.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,” I told her, echoing what I’d said to Mason earlier.
She laughed, a sound remarkably similar to her brother’s. “I can see why he likes you. You smell like prey but act like pack.”
“Again, not reassuring.”
The inside of the pack house was even more impressive than the exterior. The main floor was largely open concept, with a massive stone fireplace as the centerpiece of a living area filledwith comfortable-looking furniture. The kitchen was industrial-sized, with multiple ovens and a refrigerator big enough to store a body (a thought I immediately tried to un-think).
And it was full of people—laughing, talking, cooking, all moving with that same contained energy I’d come to recognize in Mason. They looked like a normal family gathering, except for the subtle signs I now knew to look for: the slightly elongated canines when someone laughed too hard, the occasional flash of gold in otherwise normal eyes, the way they all oriented slightly when we entered, like compass needles finding north.
“Everyone!” Riley announced loudly, though I suspected she didn’t need to raise her voice for them all to hear. “This is Julian, Mason’s mate. Be nice, he’s human and new to all this.”
I felt my face heat as all eyes turned to me. There was a moment of silence, and then a woman who could only be Mason’s mother approached, wiping her hands on an apron.
“Julian,” she said warmly, “we’re so glad you’ve joined us. I’m Evelyn, Mason’s mom.”
She had the same amber eyes as her children, set in a face that was both beautiful and slightly wild. Her dark hair was streaked with silver, and when she smiled, I could see where Mason got his dimples.
“Thank you for having me,” I said, relieved when my voice came out steady. “Your home is beautiful.”
“It’s your home too now,” she said, embracing me. Like Riley, she held me perhaps a second longer than was strictly normal, and I knew she was scenting me. “You smell like my son,” she said approvingly as she released me.
“Is everyone going to comment on how I smell?” I asked, only half-joking.
A deep laugh came from behind Evelyn, and a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped forward. “Welcome to lifewith werewolves, son. Privacy is a foreign concept, especially regarding bodily functions.”
“Dad,” Mason groaned from the doorway, where he’d appeared with our bags. “Can we not talk about bodily functions in the first five minutes?”
