Page 53 of Howlin’ For You

I bring out the map Clover gave me last time and find Veronica Pasta, making my way through the growing crowd.

“Hi!” A slightly older woman with soft, lavender hair bunched on top of her head says as I approach.

“Veronica Pasta?” I ask, jars of sauce littering the table.

She giggles, all high-pitched and tinny. “Technically, it’s Veronica Wildes, but maybe I should go by Veronica Pasta instead. How can I help you, sweet pea?”

“Some homemade pasta, please. Whatever you recommend.”

“And if I recommend the lot of it?” She raises an eyebrow, all mischief and joy.

A smile spreads on my face. “Then I’m going home with a lot of pasta.”

I burst into my tiny house, arms laden with groceries, tchotchkes, and all sorts of other things from my shopping trip. I wanted to spend even more time there, but I need time to get things ready for Nick’s visit.

This will be the first time he eats dinner here—and hopefully spends the night—and I want everything to be perfect. Well, as perfect as possible.

I drop everything in the kitchen and spend a few minutes in my closet, changing into a black wrap dress. My brown hair cascades down my back in soft waves. Maybe I should wait until after dinner is done, but I’m running late, and I’d rather look nice.

I wrap my new apron around my waist and make up the table. I can be in the midst of cooking when Nick arrives, but I can’t still be decorating. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I unpack my new treasures.

The new woven table runner goes first, then the flowers Nick gave me in a glass vase, and the scented pinecones. Next are placemats, linen napkins, and plates. It’s not that I expect Nick to judge my table-setting skills, but something deep within me wants to continue impressing him.

I turn on some Lizzy McAlpine and hum along as I chop the tomatoes, garlic, chard, arugula, and parsley.

Olive oil and salt coat the tomatoes as I get them started on the stovetop.

I throw in the garlic, chard, and arugula with some water, and finally, the fettuccine noodles Veronica picked out for me. That’ll take a little time to boil and cook.

Excitement skitters along my skin as I wait for Nick. I’ve actually missed him today—despite spending all night with him and seeing him earlier. I like it. I like having someone to miss.

And I’m excited to take care of him. To give him a soft place to land.

It hurts my heart that he’s lost so much, and that he may be worried about losing even more.

I hope he sees this effort for what it is—a promise that I’m not going to judge him. I’m not going to ask him to change.

I like Nick. Wolf and all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

NICK

Istand on Izzy’s porch for a moment, just soaking it all in. Enjoying the fact that after a long-ass, physically demanding workday, I’m going home to my mate.

It’s not the same as going home to a place we share, but it’s the next step toward that eventuality. This will become routine for us until I finally tell her she’s my mate and we can have forever together.

Guilt gnaws at me. I haven’t told her yet. She may be angry I’ve kept this from her, but I wanted her to get to know me without the weight of being my mate—and all that comes with it—on her shoulders. Maybe that’s selfish, but I want her to be sure this life is what she wants.

With a deep breath, I shake off any and all thoughts that aren’t focused solely on appreciating the beautiful woman on the other side of this door.

I knock twice, stepping back slightly so I’m not all up in her business the second she opens it.

She sweeps the door open with a smile, and I swear to the Goddess my entire world zeroes right in on that dazzling grin. My Isabella.

I went into Georgie’s café today to get some pastries for dessert, but I abandon them on the ground as I draw my woman to me.

Like a magnetic attraction, I find her lips and immediately put all the day’s longing into kissing her until she melts into my chest. With a whimper, her small hand slides into the back pocket of my jeans, pulling us flush.