Page 28 of A Wolfe in the Woods

I perked up. “Really?”

“Afteryou make good on our agreement with the lumberbeast.”

“There was no agreement,” I said flatly. “I never promised to hook up with anyone.”

She gave a dramatic scoff, like I’d broken a sacred vow.

“I’ll just wait till the week is up,” I grumbled, my shoulders sagging. “I still have to get my car fixed anyway.”

“I told you to ditch that cursed relic ages ago. Now it’s come back to haunt you,” Meg said dryly.

“I don’t need this lecture again,” I reminded her. “It runs…most of the time. And it’s what this lowly mortal can afford.”

“Right. Frugal martyrdom. My favorite aesthetic.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Sure. What’s his name?”

“Jonathan. Jonathan Wolfe,” I told her. I’d never said the name out loud before. It felt oddly forbidden, like it was meant to be whispered.

“Wolfe, huh?” Meg asked. I could almost imagine her pursing her lips.“Why does that sound familiar? Hmm, I’ll snoop when I’m done here.”

“Don’t bother,” I told her. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

She snorted. “So you think. Okay, I have to go, Bee.” There was a shuffle on the other end, followed by a clipped sigh, then Megan’s voice shifted into Elvish, barking orders.

The line clicked off, and I pulled the phone away, then replaced the phone into the cradle. I peered out the big front windows of the cottage to the glittering lake. I didn’t know how they kept the water so clear here…but an afternoon swim sounded perfect.

I changed into my suit, tugging on a dress over as a coverup, before grabbing a spare towel from the closet. Applying sunscreen took more time than anything else, but once I was sufficiently protected, I stepped outside with my towel, water, and book in hand. The heat slammed into me like a wall, momentarily stealing my breath, but oddly it felt different than the humid heat in Graymore, which was always tinged with the scent of waste and metal. Here in Juniper Woods, the heat feltalive, like a touch as it skimmed over my skin. I could smellthe fragrance of the blooms lining the gravel path outside my cottage. I could smell the trees where they stood like sentinels across the lake. I could smell the hot earth as it simmered beneath my feet.

A delicious breeze swept back tendrils of my hair, and I took in a lungful of it, feeling perspiration begin to dot my brow. There was a small sandy shore of the lake just up the pathway leading to the cabins farther up from mine. A couple lounge chairs and a picnic table were also placed there, so I assumed it was the best entry point into the lake for a swim.

As I neared, my gaze caught a glimpse of a cabin with an open door, wood, and a miter saw perched on the porch. My heart momentarily skipped, thinking Jonathan was nearby, but I didn’t see any sign of him. Maybe he was on a lunch break. Maybe I could sneak a quick swim in and head back before I saw him. After our handful of encounters yesterday, I didn’t really know what to make of him. All I knew was that he made my stomach a little fluttery—fromnerves, I firmly decided. Nothing else.

I placed my belongings on one of the lounge chairs, kicking off my sandals. After one last glimpse over my shoulder to the cabin—still no sign of the maddening and handsome B&B owner—I quickly took off my coverup, tossing it among the rest of my belongings, and waded into the water.

Immediately, I smiled in contentment. The water was cool and refreshing, warm enough that I could plunge into it without hesitation. As the water threaded through my hair and I felt enveloped in bliss, I smiled.

Who cared about internet when you could havethis?

I’d grown up near the sea my entire life and always had fond memories of beach days—of hot sand sifting through my fingers, of feeling the droplets of sea water evaporate off my skin in the sun, of cooling off with berry smoothies and hearing the crashof waves as I dozed. I loved the water, but before this vacation, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d swam. This made me remember those days, if only a little. But then grief reared its ugly head and I remembered that I’d never have another beach day with my grandmother again.

I surfaced, floating on my back, letting the water plug up my ears. I might not ever have a day with her again, but I thought…she’d be happy that I was here. That I’d come back to Everwick. That was all she’d ever wanted, wasn’t it?

Staring up at the crystalline blue sky as I floated, I listened to the hushed calm of the water around me. If I closed my eyes, it almost felt like it was humming to me.

Then—I heard the ugly whirring of a power tool pierce through my peace, and I righted myself as I treaded water, looking toward the cabin.

Jonathan was standing with his back to me at the miter saw, trimming a piece of thick wood for the porch to size. Holding my breath, I tucked my mouth and nose beneath the water, watching.Spying. He was in a white sleeveless tank today, the rounded ball of his broad, tanned shoulders and the sinewy strength of his arms on full display. And bless the summer heat, but there was a glimmer of sweat highlighting the ridges and valleys of those muscles. The material of his shirt clung to him, and I didn’t dare blink as I watched him lower the handle of the miter saw to cut through the slab of wood, which made all kinds of muscles in his back dance and ripple.

They don’t make them like this in Graymore, do they?I couldn’t help but think.

He turned off the saw, hoisting the long wooden piece up with one hand. Then his head turned and he cut a look at the lake, straight at me. Surprised, I sucked in a breath, forgetting my nose was under water, and I felt the burn as I surfaced, beginning to cough up what I’d inhaled frantically.

My face burned as I hacked. IsworeI caught an edge of Jonathan’s smirk, the brief shake of his head, before he was turning back to the porch.

Gods, he knew I’d been watching. How utterly embarrassing.