Page 11 of Wounded Christmas Wolf
The ATV jolted up beside him and stopped, although the engine continued to idle with a puttering sound.
“Hi!” said the driver. The voice was female, and startling in its familiarity even before he saw her face. “Either you’re lost, or you’re Jace, and you’re earl ...”
Her voice died away.
It was the woman from the community center.
Miss kiss-me-under-the-mistletoe.
The woman whose lips he couldn’t stop thinking about. The one who had made his wolf go wild.
Fur still itched on the backs of his hands, under his gloves. He had kept his gloves on through supper at the shelter last night, ignoring the few funny looks he got. Now he could feel his claw pressing against the gloves’ worn fingertips, and he jammed his free hand in his pocket. The other was occupied holding the ragged duffel slung over his shoulder that contained his few possessions, a couple changes of clothes and some worn books from the community center.
Miss Mistletoe was wearing a heavy coat and work gloves, with a knit cap pulled down over her ears, so all he could really see was her face with freckled cheeks bright pink from the cold. Wisps of light brown hair escaped around the edges of the cap. Her green-gold eyes were wide with surprise.
“You got my flyer!” she said.
Jace realized he was staring in return. He jerked his eyes away. He had already been quiet long enough that her warm smile had begun to falter.
“Yeah, guess so,” he said. It came out rough, scratchy. Oh, this was bad.
Miss Mistletoe coughed a little. “You’re ... Jace, right?”
“Yeah.” He took a few steps back from her. That seemed to help a little, at least in terms of the visceral all-overreaction he was having to her. His hands stopped trying to shift, although his palms were wet with sweat.
She frowned, making a cute furrow appear between her brows. “Look, I don’t want this to be weird. I’m super glad you rescued me yesterday. I really appreciate it. I wanted to help you out, return the favor somehow.”
“Okay.” It was all he could think of to say. His mind was full of her nearness, and worse, her smell, light and floral and intensely female.
“Are you all right?” She was frowning with more concern now. “Are you mad at me?”
Before he could manage to answer that, a dog bounded up beside them, white and black with long fur and a graceful profile that Jace vaguely associated with Youtube videos about dogs herding sheep. Jace reached out a cautious hand for it to sniff. He had always liked dogs, although animals of any kind could react unpredictably to shifters.
This dog didn’t seem especially bothered by him. After he’d ruffled its soft ears, it allowed him to sink a hand into its thick ruff.
“That’s Rocket,” Miss Mistletoe said. “She’s friendly, but doesn’t really like to be clung to. Border collies are independent dogs. I guess she likes you.”
“Uh-huh,” Jace said, feeling Rocket’s dense fur under his gloved hand. He was unused to a dog being this okay with a shifter it had never met before.
But this dog would be used to shifters. From what Dave had told him, the owner of the place was a shifter. Miss Mistletoe’s gold-flecked eyes made him think of shifter eyes—was she part of that family, then?
This made him worry about whathiseyes were doing. He took another step back. Rocket got tired of the non-petting and pranced off on dog business.
“Oh ... kay,” Miss Mistletoe said, almost to herself. “Boy,you really don’t talk a lot. So, um, your cottage is up the hill, where the Christmas lights are. Do you want a ride?”
Absolute horror washed over him. Sitting behind her, on the machine? Arms wrapped around her, legs wrapped around her—”No!” he said.
Miss Mistletoe shut off the machine and got off.
She was much shorter than him. He had noticed that before, how he’d had to lean down to kiss her. But he was aware of it now mainly as an almost palpable presence extending beyond her, as if her spirit was considerably mightier and fiercer than her small frame would suggest.
She had shifter heritage, he was almost sure of it. He could feel himself responding to it, not just the intense female nearness of her, but that inner animalistic nature. She didn’t have a shift animal; at least he didn’t think so. But there was something alpha in her. He sensed it strongly.
“Look,” she said, folding her arms. “I know you’re upset with me, okay? I took—I took some liberties, I know I did. But hey, it worked. Rob left me alone, and no one here knows about it, so you and I don’t have to ever talk about it again. We can just pretend it didn’t happen and start over fresh.” Her firmly set jaw softened a little, and she smiled at him. “Hi. I’m Holly.” And she held out one mittened hand.
Jace just stared at her too-tempting hand. There was no way he could shake hands with her. She would feel the claws instantly. And he had no idea what would happen after that. He’d literallybittenher.
Holly’s smile slowly faded. She let her hand drop.
