How to Flirt With a Naked Werewolf - Molly Harper [111]
The truth was, I wasn’t ready to let him back in yet. He’d hurt me. I couldn’t trust that the next time things got hard or he started feeling guilty, he wouldn’t just run off again. I wandered back into my bedroom and crawled under the covers. Oscar, who had been hiding under the bed, hopped up near my feet and nestled beside me. I sat up and scratched between his ears. “Oscar, you are the only trustworthy male in this house, canine or otherwise.”
When I woke up in the morning, Cooper was still in wolf form, still on the porch. He huffed at me and scratched at the door, but I went about my business, getting ready for work. He walked me to the truck and sat in the driveway while I pulled out, his paw raised in a sort of wave. I didn’t speak a word to him, not that morning or that night when I got home. Or the night after that or the one after that. For a week, Cooper stayed in wolf form, watching over the house, walking me back and forth from my truck whenever I left. I stayed silent. Even Oscar gave him the cold shoulder when he went out to play. But neither rain nor sleet nor Arctic blasts from a wiener dog could keep my werewolf boyfriend from his self-appointed rounds.
One night, I came home to find a pile of flowers, pulled up by the roots, scattered over the front stoop. Cooper sat on his haunches, surrounded by wildflowers, and huffed.
“What’s next, a dead squirrel?” I asked.
Cooper barked.
I sat down on the steps and stroked his fur. “Look, I get it, you’re sorry. Would you please change back into a man so we can talk about this like grown-ups? I promise I won’t hit you again.”
Cooper shifted and wrapped his arm around me. “I’m sorry. I should have said that first. I’m so sorry I left you. I thought I could handle it. I knew that biting you that first time, marking you, meant that I could never mate with anyone else—”
“What?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “That’s how it works with us. Once we mark our partners, that’s it. It’s more magic than science, but after we mark the one we choose, our DNA won’t mix with anyone else’s. Wolves mate for life.”
“You walked away from me, knowing you might never have kids? That you’d never find someone else?”
“I wouldn’t want anyone else.”
I slapped at his shoulder. “Jackass.”
He pulled me close. “I love you. I can’t stay away from you. I don’t care if that makes me selfish. You make me happy. You’re the only spot in my life that makes sense right now. Even without the baby, I would still feel that way. And until I know for sure what’s happening, until I find out whether I’m the one hurting people—”
“You’re not,” I told him sternly, holding his chin to make him meet my gaze.
He nodded, but I could tell he was just placating me. “Until I know for sure, one way or the other, you’re stuck with me.”
I conceded, “I know you were just doing what you thought was right. Your heart was in the right place, even if your head was up your ass.”
“I hope the baby has your special way with words.” He sighed.
“Good.” I wrapped my arms around him, as if I could make him keep his promise by just holding him there. I nuzzled his neck. “So, um, when was the last time you had a shower? Ballpark guess?”
“I don’t know. I rolled around in a creek about a week ago.” He shrugged. When I wrinkled my nose, he was indignant. “I was running around in wolf form, beating the hell out of myself, and wallowing in misery. I wasn’t at a damned spa.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I love you in spite of your pungent manliness.”
“Well, now you’re just patronizing me,” he grumbled. I laughed. His stomach growled loudly.
I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I stepped over the flowers into the house. “How about I fix pancakes and you take a shower?”
“It depends. Is this a trick to make me lower my guard so you can punch me again?”
“I slapped you, I didn’t punch!”
“I’m sorry if my bruised skull can’t tell the difference.”
COOPER