Page 38 of Big Bad Single Wolf Dad

“Oh, hello, Greg,” Eric says with a sickly smile when he answers the door. “Fancy seeing you here.”

This might have been the one thing I wasn’t prepared for. Fake pleasantries. But I bounce back quickly.

“Cut the shit, Eric,” I tell him. “I think you know why I’m here.”

The vampire’s smile only widens, showing the edges of his fangs. I wonder if that’s intentional.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his tone so sickly sweet that it’s nauseating.

But I’m not going to play his games. I growl a little, meeting his gaze with my own, and I can feel my vision start to sharpen, indicating my irises are probably turning yellow.

Good, I think. He’ll know I’m serious.

“I know what’s going on with you and Sarah,” I tell him, my voice a low warning. “And I’m here to tell you you’re wasting your time. Sarah’s with me, and you’d do well to stay away from her.”

I glare at Eric, hoping that’ll be enough to get him to back off. But the sleazy smile that’s been smeared across his face since I arrived hasn’t faltered.

“Oh, Greg,” he tells me patronizingly, cocking his head to the side like you would with a child. Or a dog. “We’re both adults here, aren’t we? There’s no need for such animalistic behavior.”

His smile shifts into a smirk at the clear allusion to me being a werewolf. It only makes me even angrier.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I’m going to make this very clear. Sarah’s with me, and I’m not going to give her up just because you’re skulking around. It’ll be better for everyone if you just break things off and leave her alone. Understand?”

Eric gives me a curious look, and I can practically see the wheels turning behind that translucent face. Suddenly he snaps out of it like something has clicked into place. He gives me another wretched grin.

“Greg, thank you for stopping by. I hate to cut this little chat short, but I’m afraid I have some business to attend to. And don’t worry about Sarah. I’m sure she’ll choose what’s best for her,” he tells me.

With one last disparaging smirk, he shuts the door in my face. I’m left standing on the porch and staring at his closed door like an idiot.

My whole body is shaking, and I’d love nothing more than to smash something right about now. Maybe Eric’s door. Maybe Eric’s face.

But I also know that’s not going to help me win Sarah over, and with a scowl, I turn away from the vampire’s house and back to the car.

It feels like a long drive home, even though it’s only about fifteen minutes. But my mind is racing.

The whole visit has left me feeling powerless and frustrated – and, if I’m honest, a little scared. If Eric isn’t going to back off, and Sarah is pulling further and further away despite my attempts to win her over, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. The thought of losing her is excruciating.

What if she chooses him? I don’t know why, in a million years, anyone would choose that creep. But stranger things have happened. The fact he has two kids means some unlucky woman did choose him at some point and if Sarah’s seeing this guy behind my back there must be some reason for it.

The thought isn’t the least bit reassuring. By the time I get home, my mind is still reeling. Against my better judgment, I decide I might need some advice.

“Mike!” I call, hoping my bumbling assistant will have some unlikely piece of wisdom to share with me.

The zombie comes loping into the living room where I’ve thrown myself down on the couch.

“What can I do for you, sir?” he asks, his blue eye staring at me eagerly, while his brown eye wanders off, gazing around the room of its own accord. I try my best to ignore it, but it’s difficult.

“I have a strange request,” I say, suddenly wondering if this is the best idea after all. “But I want your advice on matters of the heart.”

Mike gives me a look that tells me he has no idea how to help me but is eager to try nevertheless. He’s nothing if not loyal and eager, for better or worse.

“Well, none of my organs work anymore, what with being undead and all, but I’ll do my best to help, sir,” he says with total sincerity.

It takes me a second to catch his meaning.

“I meant more figuratively than literally, but okay,” I say, regretting this already.

“Oh, of course, of course,” Mike replies with embarrassment. But he sits down on a nearby chair and leans forward intently, ready to receive whatever troubles I throw at him.

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