Page 48 of Wishing for a Werewolf
Mmm. I want coffee.
And him.
“Come back to bed.” I reach toward him and make gimme hands. Then I lift the covers so he can slide in beside me, and I snuggle up to his warmth, so yummy in the morning cool of the room. “How was your first night sleeping in a bed?”
“My favorite parts had no sleeping.” There’s that wicked grin again. God, who would ever expect Mr. Grumpy Pants to have that panty-melting smile in his arsenal?
“You know what I meant.” I poke his arm. “Did you like it?” I hold my breath, the question more important than I hope he realizes. Before I fall even more for him, there are big things to figure out. Does he want to live like a man? Can he truly be happy here in Ferndale Falls?
Can he be happy with little-ol’-human me?
“I loved it.” He pats the mattress. “This is so much more comfortable than anything I’m used to. I didn’t think I’d like the feel of blankets on top of me, but I was wrong. They were…” He searches for the word.
“Snuggly?” I offer.
He nods and pulls me closer. “Snuggly.”
Taking the sketchpad from him, I stare at the drawing. “It’s even more beautiful up close.”
Then I try to turn to the previous page.
Rune makes an attempt to take the pad back, but my stubbornness kicks in, and I don’t let go. “Please?”
He gives a sharp nod and says a grumpy, “All right.”
I flip to the start and watch as his talent grows by leaps and bounds with each drawing. There are several things from nature: various types of trees, a chipmunk, a deer. Then he starts sketching people, capturing a pixie, arms raised overhead, mouth open on a shout; a gnome mid-somersault; Luke scowling, his arms folded across his chest as he leans against a wall. “These are amazing.”
The next pages are covered with wolves: drawings of huge bodies slipping through a forest, on the hunt; a lone wolf drinking from a stream; a pair of pups wrestling with each other; an adult wolf curled around those same pups, watching them as they sleep.
“That’s my twin sister with my niece and nephew.” A faint smile touches his lips, his voice tinged with longing. “They arrive on Monday.”
“You miss them.”
“I do.” His fingers brush over the paper with a gentle touch. “They’re my family.”
A human guy might try to hide such feelings, worried they’re not “manly” enough. But not Rune. He wears his love for them with pride, and it’s so beautiful and true it makes my heart ache in the very best of ways. I think of everything he told me last night, of how he came to Earth in order to make a place where they can learn to shift. That gruff, grumpy exterior of his hides the biggest heart I’ve ever known.
When I try to turn another page, Rune’s body tenses against mine. The next drawing is of me, a quick impression of me laughing. The one after has me standing with hands on hips, looking determined. In the next, I wear a wistful expression, staring at something in the distance. Page after page of drawings, and all of them are of me.
“When did you start doing these?” I ask.
“Last Sunday.”
“So after we met at the Wishing Well.” I meet his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I like drawing you.” His fingers play with a lock of my hair. “At first it was your hair, the color unlike anything the cu sith have. Then it was the fire of your soul.” He touches my chest over my heart.
I suck in a breath.
“I see how determined you are about the things you believe in, how you’ll do anything for your friends and family.” He tugs me closer until his next words whisper over my lips. “These are things I greatly admire. They pull me to you, my fire.”
Oh! My lips tremble. I’m not much of a crier, but his words are so sweet! They hint at the possibility of so much more than I was expecting to hear after only one night together.
Rune gives me a kiss and climbs out of bed. “Come. I will practice making breakfast.” He holds out his hand, and I grip it tightly, letting him pull me out of bed and into his arms, my heart skipping with glee.
