Page 26 of A Wolfe in the Woods

He looked up then, no doubt catching my piqued interest. But I looked away with a jerk of my head, clearing my throat.

I took a plate and filled it slowly, letting the motions anchor me.

The evening’s slow rhythm—combined with a homecooked meal, the glow of firelight, the gentle company, and smell of fresh-baked moonshade-berry tarts warm enough to rival my grandmother’s—spoke to the woman in me who desperately needed this break from the world and whispered to the nostalgic little girl inside. Another tight knot I was carrying loosened and a mix of emotions came flooding to the forefront.

This felt familiar.

And for the first time since arriving here, I didn’t feel like a guest.

I felthome.

Jonathan walked beside me without saying a single word. The path back to my cabin was darker now, the moon higher, and the air cooler and heavier with the scent of pine.

Something about walking next to him felt…safe. I hadn’t expected that.

Maybe that’s also because of the wine,I couldn’t help but think. I wasn’t so on edge with him.

When we reached the front steps of my cabin, I paused. He stopped beside me, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly toward the trees like he was listening to something beyond what I could hear.

“Thank you for walking me, and thank May again for the invite,” I said. I didn’t move. He didn’t either.

There was this moment—soft and still—lingering longer than it should have, just like it had at my grandmother’s cottage. I didn’t understand it.

Our eyes met.

His eyes really were beautiful.

A deep cerulean blue, so vivid they almost seemed lit from within. I’d tried to read them before, tried to determine what he was thinking…but it was like trying to peer through an endless ocean and getting only my own reflection rippling back. They didn’t give anything away. Maybe that was why I couldn’t stop looking. I was pulled in by something that lay beyond what I could articulate…and that scared me.

I didn’t mean to stare, but I was doing it again.

My breath hitched.

His eyes narrowed on me. Then he murmured, “Red must be your favorite color.”

The comment caught me off guard. I stood there, puzzled. “Huh?”

“Your car. Your sweater…” he said, voice low and warm, his eyes dropping to the cardigan I had on before they flicked upward again. His eyes went back and forth between my own. “Your face.”

Oh gods, am I blushing?I fretted inwardly.Dammit!

He gave the smallest tilt of his head, studying me. His gaze held mine with a quiet intensity, and the air between us seemed to hush, like the entire forest was listening. His lips quirked in mild amusement, as if he could read my thoughts. Awareness prickled across my skin at that look.

He wasteasingme.

I stood, grounded in that spot, but part of me was floating, suspended in a moment I wished would never be broken.

Then…

A loud howl. Single and clear, but distant.

It cut through the quiet. Followed by several more joining in chorus, rising from the ridge above.

I flinched. The moment shattered. My breath pulled in sharp.

“Oh my gods,” I whispered, unconsciously taking a step closer to him.

“You okay?” he asked, his arm coming up toward my elbow, hovering just an inch off my skin.