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My eyes dipped back to the page.
I think he’s getting ready to choose a mate. My house is starting to look like a damn grocery store; I’ve got four different brands of tampons in the bathroom.
Tampons.
The nesting has gotten ridiculous.
Seems like I’m making multiple trips to the store every day, for random human girl shit that I suddenly feel like I desperately need to have on hand. Yesterday, it was nail polish.
Nail polish.
And then today, I realized I’d need nail polish remover to go with the damn things, and cotton pads to use the nail polish remover.
Jesse sure as hell never felt the need to buy nail polish, so I don’t know what’s going on at this point. I almost wonder if I’ve already met the chick, but never made eye contact.
Ebony…
Well, I’ve written plenty about her already.
I should’ve made it a point to look her in the eyes by now, but if she is my mate, I’d rather spare her.
But if the nesting urges get more insane than tampons and nail polish, I’ll probably need to try, just to check.
Hell, now that I’ve written that, my wolf will probably take over and force me to if I don’t do it myself.
She’s having dinner with Tea tomorrow; maybe I’ll try then.
Or maybe I’ll try to deal with it for another week, so her life can stay normal just a little longer.
Guess time’s the only thing that’ll tell.
I looked backat Wolf Ford, shocked.
He’d written about me before?
He had wondered if I was his mate for a while?
And he was stock-piling nail polish?
My gaze dipped to my nails. I always painted them in dark colors, usually reds, purples, or blues. Something about having them done made me feel more put-together, but I was too careful with money to pay to have them done every month.
How had he known that?
And what the hell was up with these nesting urges?
I set the journal down, determined to come back to it after I’d found the nail polish. I had already rifled through his closet and dresser, and everything downstairs.
The only place I hadn’t searched through was…
The bathroom.
Because I’d already been in there earlier, I hadn’t considered going through the cabinet.
I crossed the hall again, kneeling on the ground and opening the doors up.
Sure enough, four brands of tampons lined the back wall of the cupboard. A few brands of pads were organized in the corner, stacked neatly one on top of the other.
There were also extra bottles of women’s shampoo and conditioner, along with two different razors, and an enough different lotions, bath bombs, and body scrubs to fill an entire Bath & Body Works.
