Page 27 of Howlin’ For You

“But—” Doubt swirls in her eyes.

“No buts. Not a single one. I don’t want to hear it. You are enough, Isabella Gregory. What you’re doing is enough.” I almost growl in my ferocity, but I want her to know that I mean this.

She is more than enough.

Tears fill her eyes, but don’t fall. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.”

“Not even your parents?” I brush a lock of her hair back.

She huffs a laugh full of nothing but pain. “Especially them. I was never good enough.”

“You should have been. Izzy, I’ve known you for a little while, and I already know you’re more than enough.”

She hiccups a little, nibbling her bottom lip.

“I know what it is to do your goddamn best and have it still not be enough.” Images of my brother flit through my mind, of how close we were.

“You do?” Her eyes seem to grow as she gazes at me, soaking in the vulnerability I’m sharing with her.

I nod, emotion thickening in my throat.

“You’re enough, too, you know.” She smiles, placing her hand on mine on the table. I link our fingers, reveling in how seamlessly we fit together.

“You are extraordinary, Isabella Gregory.” I give her hand a squeeze. “Now eat some more bread and tell me about your favorite movies.” I smile at her watery chuckle.

I plan on telling her how amazing she is every single day for the rest of my life.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ISABELLA

Nick doesn’t move back to his side of the booth. Doesn’t leave my side.

And I am so okay with it.

His body heat pulls me closer with each cool breeze through the open windows until I’m nestled into his side, hanging onto every word of his story about the time he and Dane got caught drinking at nineteen behind Clover’s Market.

He talks with his hands. They wave about as he describes running from Old Lady Clover and tripping on a branch.

“Wolves don’t scar easily, but that’s how I got this one.” He lifts his arm, pulling his sleeve up his forearm, exposing the lean muscle and slightly protruding veins.

I barely restrain myself from licking my lips.

It took me a second earlier to shake off the wave of emotion that came when he told me I was enough. I’ve never heard that from anyone before.

It’s always been: Isabella, you need to try harder. Isabella, you can’t even get through two years of medical school? Isabella, when are you going to buckle down and get a real job?

It’s been exhausting.

But from the moment I stepped into this town, Nick hasn’t had a single doubt about me. He genuinely believes in me.

“Do you have any scars?” he asks, finishing his story and chasing away the voices of my parents. They haunt me a little less now.

“Only emotional ones,” I reply with a smile.

He nods, severity pulling his eyebrows together. “Everyone has those.”

Boldness lifts my hand, which smooths the furrowed lines of his forehead. “I almost ran my bike into a tree once, but somehow I got out of that mostly scot-free. Just a couple of bruises and bumps.”