eryne
My house was empty when I got back, after the shop was locked up and closed for the night. I frowned. Had he left? Maybe he’d changed his mind from earlier. Maybe it was something I’d said.
Had Rina and Wendy’s comments upset him that much?
Or had mine?
He’d rejected me without even blinking, and I didn’t know why it hurt so much when I was the one that brought up that sex wasn’t a good idea.
“Barrett?” I called, even though I’d already checked every room. His stuff was still here, though, sitting at the foot of my bed, so I figured that was a good sign.
Why did I care?I had to confront the idea that I hardly knew the man.
Before this morning, I’d thought he was awolf,for crying out loud. And yet, the idea of him leaving didn’t sit right with me. I could use any excuse I wanted—that he wasn’t healed enough, that I was just concerned about his well being—but I knew whatit all boiled down to. For the last two weeks, I’d had a purpose besides my job. Taking care of someone else.
Nursing him back to health had given me something to do. And to go back to before, to a cold, empty house, just felt…lonely.
I wrapped my arms around myself. It was hard to admit out loud. Maybe because the last year of my life, overall, had been amazing. I’d gotten this new job. Moved into my own place. Kept myself entertained with making earrings and new friends.
But was it enough? Was I… happy?
Frowning, I headed towards Nutmeg’s cage, opening the door and waiting for her to scurry over to me. After she crawled onto my hand, I scratched under her chin with my free hand, the motion soothing me. Witches believed in the familiar bond, that it helped strengthen our magic. There was something incredibly powerful about our connection with animals.
“That’s my sweet little Nutmeg,” I cooed as she looked up at me, twitching her tiny little nose.
A lot of the witches in Pleasant Grove had cats for their familiars—including the Clarke sisters. Though I wasn’t sure Damien really counted as her familiar anymore, butsemantics. Still, when it had been time for me to pick mine, I’d taken one look at the tiny little hedgehog and I’d known she was supposed to be mine.
Lifting her up, I let her crawl onto my shoulder as I walked towards the kitchen.
Movement outside caught my eye as I walked past my glass sliding door, and I froze.
Was that?
I opened the door in time to watch as the huge, dark red wolf bounded through the air—and then it’s form shifted, turning back into man. The transformation was surprisingly graceful in a way I would have never expected.
Some werewolf lore described it like all of their bones were breaking, reshaping to create the new form, but this? This was completely different. Mesmerizing, even. I couldn’t look away.
Barrett walked out of the woods, heading back towards my house, running his hands through his wind-swept hair. The most perfect shade of auburn I thought ever existed.
I took the moment to admire his body before he realized I was there. Tall—well over six feet—muscular, and covered in freckles. How was it possible for a man to have that many abs? He was heading toward me, and he wascompletelynaked. How did this keep happening to me?
“Oh.” My cheeks flamed. I was openly gawking at him as I stood on my back porch.
This the second time today this had happened to us. Except unlike this morning, he didn’t cover up with sheets or a pillow. Which meant I could seeeverything.
“Enjoying the view, little healer?” He smirked, flexing his muscles.
My mouth was dry,again.Or maybe I was drooling. I wasn’t sure.
“Oh, goddess. I’m so sorry.” Looking away, I scratched under Nutmeg’s head as I stood at my sliding door. I could almost make out his reflection in the glass, and I was trying to avoid looking at anything. Especially between his thighs, at what I knew was definitely an impressive package. And he hadn’t even been hard this time.
I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way my heart was thudding in my chest. Had a man ever incited a reaction like this in me before? Had I ever wanted to strip my clothes off and throw myself at?—
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I just went for a run. I needed to—” I heard rustling, and then he was closer to me, his breathpractically ghosting over my neck. “You can turn around now, sugar. I’m dressed.”
I turned around, finding him dressed in the same clothes he had earlier, sans jacket. His muscles looked even better now, somehow, which should have been a crime.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, still averting my eyes. “I didn’t mean to?—”
