But the truth is, I don’t know. Or I don’t want to admit that I know.
When I left my house and let my feet lead me, they should’ve taken me to the house of a woman who could actually be my mate. Not here.
This is wrong, and even still, I can’t help tracing my eyes over her tangle of flaming hair and the round curves of her cheeks and the soft mossy color of her eyes.
Take her. She’s perfect.
She’s a stranger with secrets.I seethe silently.
Out loud, all I say is, “Wanted to see if you’d left yet.”
She snarls in outrage, then storms into her house, leaving Thad and me alone in the cool morning air.
“You’re bad at flirting,”my pack mate signs.
I scowl at him. “I’m not trying to flirt.”
“Maybe you should.”
Before I can respond, Juliet reappears.
Holding a knife.
“I’m. Not. Leaving.” Each word is emphasized with a gesture that has the blade slicing through the air.
My feet stay rooted to the ground as I wonder if I’ve finally driven this woman to violence.
But even as Thad carefully raises himself from his chair, preparing to grab Juliet if the wild woman lunges at me, she turns away. Her steps take her to a thick wooden column that supports the part of the roof that hangs over the porch. Biting her lip in concentration, the librarian starts to carefully carve into the old wood.
When she steps back, two words stand out clearly.
Juliet Adair.
“I don’t pee around the perimeter of my territory, but hopefully, this will get through your thick skull, Roderick Jameson.” She folds up the massive pocketknife and sticks it in the pocket of her sweatpants. “This is my place.Mine.” She stomps her sock-clad foot on the porch. “I’m not leaving. Run down this road as many times as you want.”
The wooden steps creak as she descends to cross her yard and get in my face.
She smells good. Kiss her, my wolf instructs me.
And reluctantly, I realize my wants match up with the beast’s.
Juliet’s fists shove into my chest, and I let her push me back, needing to keep my distance.
Her grin is triumphant. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Fuck all the gods.
Because as she stands here, mussed from sleep, fierce as she faces me down, name freshly carved into one of the oldest houses in town, I realize one life-altering fact.
I don’t want her to go.
Good, my wolf huffs.Then she’ll stay.
But me wanting something doesn’t mean it’ll happen. I know that well enough. The past has taught me to be wary. To not long for what was never meant to be mine.
She’s different. She’s special.
I drag in a deep breath, infused with her luscious scent, and I want to believe the instinct. Want to have a reason to lean down and taste that sassy mouth that loves to berate me. Want to put my hands on her soft body and hold her to me.
