Page 31 of Big Bad Wolf

Chapter Thirteen

How was she even more beautiful every time he saw her? They’d moved inside, out of the chill of the garage, and the way she was perched on the top edge of the couch gave him the perfect view of her bare legs. He couldn’t think straight. He wished the borrowed sweatpants he was wearing weren’t quite so tight because the sight was enough to make his dick harder than it had been in weeks. Or possibly ever.

But it wasn’t the sight of her lush curves or dark gaze or even the slightly smudged red lips—the lipstick worn off just enough to make her look thoroughly kissed—that sent his heart racing. No, it was the sight of those bare feet. So vulnerable, so personal. He felt like he’d seen something he was never meant to. Something he didn’t have the right to. Her toenails were painted bright pink.

Unfortunately, besides being intimate and adorable, her tiny feet had only sent his blood racing at the memory of last night’s attack. She could have been killed. She was too vulnerable. What if he had left her alone? A cold dread sank into his stomach at the thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Ruby asked, sliding the rest of the way onto the couch.

Her now-familiar cinnamon-spice scent assaulted him in the small room. He discreetly pressed down on the pillow in his lap.

“Nothing really.” He cleared the raspiness from his throat. “Why?”

Ruby shrugged, still watching him. “Your face went all dark and frowny like you were angry.”

“Of course I’m angry.” He raked his hands through his hair, wincing at the ache in his shoulder. It still wasn’t fully healed but by tonight he should be fine. He wondered how the other wolf was doing.

“Why? Is it the yellow and orange tie dye?”

“The what?” He glanced down at his borrowed T-shirt. “No, it’s not that.”

“Oh, good. I think it suits you.”

He sighed. “Ruby, you shouldn’t have been in the woods alone.”

Her eyes widened and she scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess the existence of werewolves who attack innocent people is my fault.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

“Ruby,” he grumbled.

“Rafe,” she mimicked his deep tone and he nearly laughed. He would have if he didn’t feel so sick about everything.

“Why the hell did you wrap me in a rug and put me in the garage?”

“What was I supposed to do? I thought you were a wild animal. To be fair, you were a wild animal.”

“You could have left me outside.”

She narrowed her eyes at him like she was insulted he would even suggest that. “You were hurt and you’d helped me. Even if you’re being an ass now, I felt inclined to help you back at the time.”

He chuckled. “Well, thanks.”

He remembered lying in the dirt after the fight, waiting for his body to heal. He remembered Ruby’s voice. “And now I’m going to save you.” She’d said it with such determination that Rafe had instantly believed her. He had no idea what she meant, but he had complete confidence in her ability to do it. He remembered when she’d stood up, giving him an upfront view of her black boots. She looked like she could kick the shit out of someone in those boots, and he’d liked that.

The boots had walked away, taking Ruby with them, and Rafe had drifted in and out of consciousness with Ruby’s words echoing through his head. You saved me. And now I’m going to save you. Wouldn’t that be nice? he’d thought before slipping under again.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked now, bringing him back to her cozy living room. The aesthetic was so far from Ruby’s personal style it almost made Rafe laugh. The couch was covered in big pale pink roses, and the chair he had chosen was outfitted in pastel stripes. An old rocking chair sat in the corner, draped in a colorful blanket. He was sure an interior designer would describe this design choice as shabby chic. The rug under their feet was worn and soft, and there was a fireplace along the wall with framed pictures of Ruby and her sister on the mantle interspersed with candles and vases filled with dried flowers. Rafe would have guessed a grandmother lived here, not someone like Ruby.

“Better.” He took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes in relief. Healing took a lot out of him. Not to mention fighting, which he hadn’t done in a long time. The memory of the other wolf’s blood spilling into his mouth nearly had him spitting out his coffee. He had sworn he would never taste that again. And yet just the memory of it had him wanting to hunt down that wolf and finish what they’d started.

“You’re doing it again.”

He looked up to find Ruby staring at him over the rim of her mug.

“Doing what?”