Page 27 of One Night with the Werewolf
I’ll cook something good tonight. What can you eat?
What can I eat? Everything, usually. Except pineapple. Makes my mouth break out in hives.
Noted.
I smile down at the little glowing screen. My new girlfriend is allergic to pineapple.
Is that what she is? Already it feels like something much greater than that.
“Roscoe,” prompts one of my coworkers. “Plan on joining us anytime soon?”
I stuff my phone in my pocket, and he raises an eyebrow at me. “Coming.”
“You have a dopey look on your face.”
“Met someone,” I say by way of explanation, and that’s all he needs to chuckle and wave for me to follow.
All day I think about what I could cook, then hit the grocery store on the way home to stock up. We’ll go with triple-dipped fried chicken and see how she feels about that. I know it’s her favorite.
Around six-thirty, my heightened hearing picks up a car approaching. A sporty sedan pulls into my driveway, and when it turns off, the subject of all my thoughts steps out.
Mine, says the wolf immediately. He’s been rather uppity lately, despite it being a new moon tonight.
I head to the door and open it for her, and a radiant smile covers Emelia’s face when she sees me. To my surprise, she throws herself into my arms, burying her face in my chest.
“It’s good to see you,” she mumbles into my shirt, and I laugh.
“Good to see you, too. I’m sorry you weren’t feeling well today.”
“All better now.”
I lead her inside, and both the wolf and I are pleased that she’s here with us again.
Right where she belongs.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
EMELIA
Having dinner at Roscoe’s is… wonderfully normal. Salem the cat winds around our feet while we eat, begging for attention. After we devour the amazing meal, we sit down at the table together and work through all the details.
I have some time left on my lease, another month and a half. That’s a good point for me to move out of my place and into Roscoe’s house. I’ve already talked to Arin, and they understand why I need to do this—why it’s the right move for me and the baby.
“Going all in, huh?” they’d said, one brow lifted.
I shrugged. “All or nothing, I guess.”
Roscoe plans to remove everything of Jason’s and give it back to him in a box so we can use his room for the nursery. That’s going to be weird beyond reason, I know. I am not excited about the moment we have to come clean, and I’m not looking forward to the rest of my life having to be his… what, stepmom?
Horrifying, actually, when I think of it like that. So, instead, I won’t. Jason is just an unfortunate appendage to making a life with Roscoe.
Then there’s the matter of telling, well, everyone else. My parents. My older sister, Natalie. God, she’s going to judge me so hard, I can feel it from across the country. My friends will probably be the easiest to sell on it.
Not like anyone has a choice in the matter. This is my life, my decision.
“My parents are both out of the picture, if that helps,” Roscoe says after I’ve unloaded my long list of players. “Nobody to disapprove from my end, except maybe my brother.” He shrugs. “Rory usually stays out of my business, though. He’s too busy with his own life.”
