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She was crying while she walked down the road outside of town. She was crying and her heart called out to mine. I was in wolf form, which may have made it even easier to smell her, to scent her. Everything is easier in wolf form, and everything is easier when emotions are strong.
Wolf or human, strong emotions lead to a strong scent, and Amy’s is forever seared into my mind. She’s perfect, and beautiful, and I have to win her heart. I’ve been waiting forever to find her.
Now I have to prove I’m good enough for her.
Now I have to prove I’m not a creep.
Although most humans know shifters exist, not all of them do. Those who do know often think the idea of shifters is false. They think it’s a rumor, a trick. Unfortunately, this means convincing Amy I’m not a monster or a liar. It means convincing her I’m not some weird stalker. It means convincing her of the truth: that we’re destined to be together.
She walks out of the motel office and I slink back into the shadows, still in wolf form, still not ready to approach her. I need to wait for the right moment because I don’t want to freak her out or ruin my only shot at love. This is it for me. This is my one chance. I’ve been searching for her for years and now she’s here.
She’s finally here.
Amy looks at the key in her hand, checking the number, then starts looking for her room. The motel room doors all open to the parking lot. This makes it nice during the cold Colorado winters when visitors can simply pull their cars up to their room and quickly get inside.
Apparently, Heather has her in room four. I wait to make sure she gets in and I hear the door lock. Then I walk to the motel office, shift, and walk inside.
“Adam,” Heather says, ignoring the fact that I’m completely nude. Nudity isn’t anything new in Wolfe City. When you shift with wolves, when you hunt with wolves, when you live with wolves, you get used to nudity very quickly. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I was just in the area,” I say, leaning on the counter, smiling.
“No, you were not just in the area,” she says smoothly. “You don’t even work over here. You work at Tony’s, and this isn’t my first day being around you, Adam Hart.”
I glare. I do work at Tony’s. The little Italian restaurant is the best in town and my friend, Anthony, is an incredible chef. I don’t cook. I’m his manager, and I’m damn good at my job. I’m not rich or wealthy, but I’m good at what I do, and I have a good heart. I could love Amy if she’ll let me. I’ll be good to her.
“Tell me what you really want,” Heather says. She’s not even l
ooking at me. She’s not even taking me seriously. She’s just staring at her computer.
“She’s my mate.”
That gets Heather’s attention.
“Excuse me?” She looks up, pushing her glasses up. Her hair, which was probably perfectly styled at the beginning of her shift, is now in a messy bun with stray hairs framing her face. “What did you just say? Because it sounds like you just waltzed into my hotel buck-ass naked and told me my latest visitor is your soul mate.”
“She’s my mate,” I repeat. My voice is strained. It’s hard to get the words out, hard to admit this is what’s happening. It’s been so long. I’ve searched for so long, fought for so long. I’ve tried so hard to find my life-mate and now she’s here within reach, and I don’t know what to do.
“All right, big boy,” Heather says, motioning for me to sit in one of the plush velvet chairs. “Put a towel down so you don’t get your butt on the chair, and then have a seat. I’ll make us some tea.” Without a backwards glance, she heads through the door that leads to her family’s living quarters.
I open a cupboard where she keeps random things guests sometimes need, and grab a towel. By the time I finish setting up the towel and getting myself situated, Heather is back with two cups of tea and a plate of cookies.
“Cookies?” I ask, surprised.
“You’re going to want comfort food. Now shut up and drink your tea.”
She sets the tray on the little coffee table and I reach for a steaming mug of tea. I sip it while I wait for Heather to start speaking because if I know one thing about the wolf mistress of the motel, it’s that she tells it like it is.
I reach for a cookie and it’s only then, when I take my first bite, that Heather begins to speak.
“Don’t be stupid,” she says, and my jaw drops because that’s not what I was expecting her to say. I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand and keeps talking.
“Adam Hart, I’ve known you since you were a little kid and I was your babysitter. You were just as impulsive then as you are now and you need to get over that real quick if you want to win this girl’s heart.”
“I’m not impulsive,” I say, but I set my cookie down sulkily.
“You are impulsive and right now, I’d say you’re trying to figure out how you can march over to room number four and introduce yourself without being weird. The correct answer is that you can’t, creeper.”
“I’m not a creeper.”
