Page 5 of Howlin’ For You

“Thank you, Nick.” Those eyes are back on my face, and I’m lost in them, lost in the promise they hold. Lost in the idea that maybe I won’t be spending the rest of my life alone.

Maybe.

“Would you be interested in going over to Tea Leaves with me? I haven’t gotten my morning coffee, and we can use the time to go over some details?” I ask, excitement and nerves causing my voice to shake in a way it hasn’t since high school.

She smiles, a bright thing that illuminates every single dark spot in my chest until I’m sure I’m on fire. “Sounds perfect.”

CHAPTER THREE

ISABELLA

It takes me a few moments to regain my bearings.

I’ve never seen a man like that before, and not just because I’m pretty sure he’s a werewolf.

I have, hands down, never seen a more beautiful, ruggedly handsome man than Nick Martin in my entire life. Shaggy brown hair a la Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings, a perfectly trimmed beard, and piercing blue eyes that could cut through steel.

I swear my heart is beating a million miles a second in my chest as I follow him to Tea Leaves. The way his shirt strains against his back muscles should be illegal.

And don’t even get me started about his ass in those jeans.

I’ve never actually met a werewolf before, and a million questions sit on my tongue waiting to leap out of me. But I can’t just ask him what he looks like on a full moon, or if he has a tail.

It’s rude, right?

Plus, Nick is a distraction I absolutely do not need. My focus needs to be purely on doing this job and then going back home. I need to figure out what I’m doing with my life, and this trip to Lunamois is a step in that direction.

Not a final destination.

I run my fingers over the name embossed on the little business card he handed me.

Nicholas Martin.

An unbidden shiver dances along my skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. What the hell? I met the man five seconds ago, and I’m already heavy breathing over his name like I’m back in middle school.

I really have to get it together.

Nick holds the door of Tea Leaves open for me, and the bell above jingles. The street-facing walls are all windows, letting in the warm autumn morning light, and the seating is mostly plush armchairs and side tables. The brick walls match the rusty red leaves dancing in the wind outside.

It’s giving the quintessential small-town café that was always the focal point of old nineties shows.

The place everyone gathered. Where everyone knew everyone. I wonder if the young woman behind the counter with red hair whipping behind her like a flame has memorized every single person’s order in this town.

My eyes scan the chalkboard menu above the counter as I get in line, and my basic-bitch heart swoons at all the fall-themed items.

I feel Nick coming up behind me before I see him.

He chuckles, warm and deep, like the best kind of hug. “How about you tell me your order, and I’ll grab breakfast for us? That way, you can go find us a seat?”

I turn then, meeting his crystal-clear blue eyes—such a stark contrast to how dark his hair and beard are. There’s something like a challenge in those sky-colored depths, as if he’s daring me to let him take control. To take care of me. No one has ever done that before.

And today will certainly not be the first time.

I place my hand on my hip. “You can order for me…but only if you can guess my drink.”

“Is that all? Alright. I accept.” His smile is blinding, so large that it’s like I can see his canines elongate.

My, what large teeth you have.