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“The only one I’ve heard of. Maybe it’s happened before and ended well. I don’t know. But be careful. You need to work to mask your scent, to control your wolf. If that means staying away from Ruby, I’m sorry, Ramsey, I really am. I want you to be happy. But if it means leaving her alone, you might have to.”
I grip the edge of the table, knowing he’s right, wishing he wasn’t.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Ruby
“Are you sure we can afford this?” Mom asks, looking down at the takeout containers.
There’s been a pit in my belly all week, but this makes it open up even more.
All week, seven long days of not seeing Ramsey, of not interacting with him. I’ve only talked with the gym’s managers, arranging my shifts that way and my pay.
Ramsey’s disappeared.
He’s not interested in me anymore.
Not that he everwasinterested.
“Yes,” I say, realizing I’ve let my thoughts drift off again.
Mom looks at me closely for a few moments. It’s like she can see something rumbling inside of me, this need that won’t stop chasing me, the dreams that bring my sleeping world to life with Ramsey and our children, and the lust we’ll share to get us to the life we want.
In the dream, that’s how I think.
We both want it.
I know it’d be different in reality.
Mom reaches for the takeout container and starts transferring the Chinese food to her plate. It’s one of her favorite foods, and it heartens me when she begins to eat, diving in with enthusiasm that rarely touches her where food is concerned.
Mom’s a fussier eater than me. She hates the simple, cheap meals we normally eat.
“This is delicious,” she says, smiling at me for a moment.
Her lips tremble a little as though trying to change to a frown. She’s still not sure if this is okay. A simple thing is getting takeout, and Mom’s looking at me like any second Master Pete and the cultists will come crashing in here.
We eat with the TV on, one of Mom’s TV shows playing, giving me time to think.
But there isn’t much to think about, except for my few meetings with Ramsey, the way he burned up in the gym, hisscentwashing all around me.
That’s the thing which surprises me most, how often I think of that, the smell of him, the manly musk drawing me in.
Then my mind will flit to his arms, imagining what it would be like to squeeze down and feel my fingernails bend against his unyielding muscles.
“So work’s going well, then,” Mom says, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
“Very well. It’s an easy job. They don’t mind if I read my nursing textbook while working. I’m lucky.”
“He must be a nice man, this Ramsey, to help you like this.”
I swallow, telling myself he helped me because he wants me. He wants my body as hungrily as I want his, wants to taste my lips as badly as I need his.
“I think he must be,” I murmur. “But I haven’t seen much of him lately.”
“He’s probably busy,” Mom says. “It sounds like he has a lot of gyms, a lot to keep up with.”
I bite down, wishing I’d grown up in a normal type of life.
