Page 3 of Falling for the Werewolf
Chapter 2 – Small World
Aweek later, the image of the female appeared again in Jace’s mind as he pounded nail after nail into the wood. It was hot under the mid-day June sun, but he didn’t even notice. Lost in the rhythm, his powerful arms and hands moved without conscious thought, fluid and precise.
He was fairly certain she was fully human, but his wolf didn’t care. Humans and shifters had been coexisting peacefully in the idyllic mountain valley known as Kenner’s Mills for hundreds of years, and shifter-human pairings weren’t uncommon.
In full agreement, his wolf continued to paw at him, chastising him for letting her get away and wanting to see her again. Who was she? Why hadn’t he asked her name? Asked her for her number? Said something charming to make her laugh again? She had a wonderful laugh, soft and musical.
To appease his wolf, as well as his human side, he had been back to the same block every day since then, hoping to catch another glimpse of her or to pick up her scent ... without success. If he had, he would have found some way to catch her attention, even if it meant placing himself in her direct path again.
The memory of the sensation of her slamming into his chest was a fond one. Next time, he would catch her and hold her to him before she fell. They would laugh over the déjà vu of it all, and then he would ask her out for lunch or coffee or something. She would flash those pretty eyes and accept shyly.
Oh yeah, he had it all worked out.
Except, there had been no sign of her. He had walked two or three blocks in either direction each day, but there were too many people, too many scents to single out just one, even one as unique as hers. He had even gone as far as to check out the bus schedule. Amazingly enough, the bus she had hopped on was destined for right here in Kenner’s Mills, which meant she might be a lot closer than he had thought.
But, if that were true, then where could she possibly be hiding? Kenner’s Mills wasn’t that big—you were bound to run into everyone at one point or another—but so far, nothing.
Frustrated, he swung the hammer a little harder than necessary. “Shit,” he muttered as he eyed the substantial dent he had made in the surrounding wood. He would need to spread some filler on that. He loved working carpentry with his uncle, and hated when he did something stupid to ruin an otherwise flawless project.
“Something on your mind, Jace?” Amos asked.
Jace let his arm drop and gave his uncle a tormented look.
“Ah. Now the only thing I know of that can make a man look like that is a woman,” Amos said knowingly. “Someone I know?”
Jace shook his head, laying down his hammer and picking up a gallon-sized jug of water. “Not even someoneIknow.”
“But someone you’d like to?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Jace smiled. It was exactly like that. No woman had ever captured the instant and total attention of both his man and his beast as she had, which meant hehadto find the woman. Tingles of anticipation shot through him at the mere thought of it.
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
That was an excellent question. What was he going to do about it? He had no idea who she was or where she lived. All he knew was that, with each passing day, the need to find her grew. He couldn’t get the mystery girl out of his mind, and his wolf was driving him crazy.
When he closed his eyes, he could see her pretty eyes, hear her lighthearted little laugh. Even now, here in Mrs. Evan’s backyard, he swore he could detect a slight hint of coconuts and oranges on the gentle summer breeze. Yeah, he had it bad.
“Jace, did you hear me, son?”
Jace snapped back from his thoughts to see Amos standing there with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look angry, though. Amos rarely got angry. Then again, Jace had never given him reason to, either.
He had been living with Amos since his undergrad days, when he was taking classes at night from the local university and working during the day with Amos. Amos was more like a father to him than an uncle; had been ever since Jace’s own father passed away ten years earlier. It was Amos who had helped him through the difficult transition from boyhood to manhood, and continued to be a guiding influence on his life today.
Jace opened his mouth to say something, but Amos held up his hand. “Go ‘round and ask Bess if she’s decided on the lattice work yet. We can’t do much more until that’s done. I’m going to the lumberyard this afternoon and can pick up what we need.”
Jace set the jug down and used the dark blue bandana stuffed in his pocket to wipe some of the sweat from his face and neck.
Amos must really think he needed a break if he was sending Jace to ask Bess something. Amos usually liked to talk to Bess himself. He knew his uncle had a thing for her, and with good reason.
Bess Evans was in her early fifties, but could have easily passed for a woman in her late thirties. More importantly, Bess Evans was known to have the biggest and kindest heart in town, a heart that was especially partial to one Amos Stevens.
There was no one outside when Jace rounded the sprawling Victorian, with its turrets and angles that made it look like a life-sized doll house.
Bess had turned her five-acre property into a maze of gardens, with landscaping so breathtaking that many locals often requested to have their wedding and prom pictures taken there. A couple of flats of vibrantly colored flowers sat in the shade of the porch, freshly watered and awaiting their new home around the gazebo he and Amos were currently building.
The wraparound front porch was empty, but Jace heard music coming from above. He went to the far side and ascended the exterior stairs, following the sound to the roof-top balcony, where he froze in his tracks at the top.
There, lying face down on a lounge chair, was a young woman who was exquisitely built, slathered in tanning oil, and completelynaked. Not a strip of fabric, not a single line to mar the deep, even bronze of her skin.
