Page 33 of Howl Will I Know

I hold it up. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“Food.”

I smile. “Excellent. Your senses remain functional. Can I come in?”

“No.”

At least he’s consistent.

I glance past him into the narrow hallway. “Fine. You can come out.”

“Nora—”

“You kissed me in my kitchen this morning, then fled my house.”

“You kissed me.”

“And you took over with impressive enthusiasm.”

His eyes darken, and my body responds so quickly that I almost lose my breath. Apparently, Hewit only has to look at me now for my nipples to tighten.

Wonderful.

Hewit’s eyes drop to the rigid points pressing against my T-shirt. His nostrils flare once, and every line of his body goes taut.

I suddenly remember that wolf senses include smell.

Oh.

That is both mortifying and⁠—

No. Not thinking about the other part while standing on his porch.

I push the food container toward him. “Dinner.”

For a moment, he just stares at me. Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth moves. “You’re getting annoying.”

“Getting?”

That almost earns me another smile as he steps outside and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s not an invitation, but it isn’t a dismissal either. I’ll take it.

We sit on the porch steps with the container between us. He takes one bite, followed by another.

“Garlic,” he says. “Lot of garlic.”

“I can take it back.”

His hand closes around the container, and he keeps eating.

For a while, neither of us says anything. Evening settles over Briar End Lane, turning the windows golden while insects hum in the grass. Hewit sits close enough that our knees nearly touch.

Eventually, I say, “Are we going to talk about this morning?”

“No.”

“Good conversation.” I wait until he swallows his next mouthful. “Has it really been that long since you were with a woman?”

Hewit looks out toward the trees rather than at me.