Page 144 of A Wolfe in the Woods

Jonathan and Bernie were approaching, the hustle and bustle of Everwick beginning to resume after the elven beauty’s appearance.

“Andyou,” Megan said, her eyes narrowing on Jonathan when he stepped up beside me, his hand curving around my hip. She jabbed her perfectly manicured finger at him. “You’re on my black list for stealing my best friend away to this medieval place. I lost service over half an hour ago! That’s thirty minutes! Do you know how bored I was? I was forced to sit alone with my own thoughts like some kind of woodland peasant.”

Jonathan leaned forward, pressing his lips to her cheek briefly, which she accepted with a roll of her eyes. “Nice to see you again too, Megan.”

My best friend’s lips twitched. Her eyes came to mine and held. And then we were both grinning at each other, seeing which of us would break first.

Laughing, I stepped forward to wrap my arms around her, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume, her silken hair caressing my cheek. “Gods, I missed you,” I told her, “you little complainer.”

“If I don’t complain, I die. Elven curse,” she replied, squeezing me tight. “I still don’t forgive you though for breaking our Mask and Movie tradition. Thursday nights will never be the same. You should feel terribly.”

“I do,” I assured her, my tone grave. “I promise.”

“It’s been four months, Blanche.Four. That’s too long for a delicate jewel like me. My pores have seen things,” she sniffed, regarding me closely, seeking out any regret in my eyes that would make her pounce and drag me back to Graymore or Willowmere right now, if she had her way.

“Your skin looks beautiful as always,” I said.

She harrumphed and then her eyes turned to Bernie. “Hello, Bernie, darling. I want to hear about your trip. Would you like me to accompany you on your next one? On account that my best friend has forgotten all about me and I’m currently in search for another.”

Bernie’s nostrils flared in amusement. “I’d be delighted. I’m taking a cruise to the Lost City of Marinis. Leaving from port in a couple weeks.”

Megan pursed her lips. “Hm. I dated a merfolk once. Slippery slope with them. One moment you’re swimming together, naked in the moonlight. The next they’re declaring you their eternal mate and talking about spells for permanent gills. I think I’ll pass.”

Jonathan made a sound in the back of his throat that he covered with a small cough. Bernie, to his credit, didn’t even batan eye. His cheeks only reddened slightly as he munched on his tart.

For all her complaints, I’d seen Megan every couple weeks since I’d moved to Everwick. She was in escrow for a vacation home with the best views of Vellamara Island, after all, and so we’d all spent ample time together when she journeyed from Willowmere. She’d even helped me paint my dining room at the cottage, showing up in pristine denim overalls that I knew she usually wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, her hair tied up in a pastel bandana, bringing in supplies she’d bought to make the process easier—including my favorite lemon-ambrosia cupcakes from Pixie Crust, baked fresh that morning.

“Have you won the contest yet?” Megan asked me expectantly, her eyes sweeping the town square, until they landed on the entry table by the Acacia Whisperthorns.

“They’re about to start judging,” I told her.

“Stand back,” she announced before flouncing off. Over her shoulder, she called, “Desperate times call for charm and manipulation…besides, I’m starving.”

I shook my head at my best friend, her boldness knowing no bounds.

“Is she going to…?” Bernie started before trailing off, struck silent as he watched her stride up to Mr. Oatley, her fingers brushing over his judging ribbon as she introduced herself. Mr. Oatley’s eyes went wide, but I watched Megan’s dazzling smile, well…dazzle him. Her hands moved animatedly as the other judges gathered round, pulled in by her, like magnets.

That had always been Megan Bank’s superpower. Like moths to a flame, and she’d always burned the brightest.

I watched as Mr. Oatley pulled hisownjudging ribbon off and pinned it to Megan’s coat. In less than a minute flat. And she clapped her hands, delighted, guiding them all over to the entry table as she inspected all the baked goods lining it, inspectingeach like she was inspecting a car to purchase. Someone even scrambled to procure a notebook for her when she asked.

Jonathan laughed softly and murmured, “You gotta hand it to her. She’s tenacious.”

The most tenacious person you’ll ever meet,I thought, curling my hand into Jonathan’s.

“I need to hear this,” Bernie said, heading toward the table where Megan was holding her court.

Then it was just me and Jonathan. I turned into his side, wrapping my other arm across his middle. When a breeze blew through the square, I pressed closer.

“Cold?” he asked, his warm palm sliding down my back. His body was like a furnace, running hot.

I smiled. “Never with you.”

And I watched Everwick-by-the-Sea, standing among the Moonshade Berry Festival. I watched neighbors and locals socialize, watched newcomers and tourists browse the vendor stalls of shops that had been in business even when I’d been a kid. From the town square, I could hear the distant crash of waves and the crowing of gulls and smell the refreshing brininess tinting the air.

This place was both old and new to me. A home full of cherished memories—even the sad ones—but a town that was full of potential, where I hoped to build my future with the man at my side.

Just like Juniper Woods with Jonathan, Everwick had called me home.