Wolf Next Door

by Anastasia Rabiyah

  Wolf Next Door

  Copyright © April 2010, Anastasia Rabiyah

  Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah © April 2010

  Amira Press

  Baltimore, MD 21216

  www.amirapress.com

  ISBN: 978-1-936279-17-3

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

  Dedication

  For Harold Nathgow and all who love in silence.

  Chapter One

  Kendra gasped when she heard the crash. Something was in her backyard, and from the sound of it, that same something had toppled her trash can. Maybe it was a cat . . . or a burglar . . . or maybe he had found her again. She froze in fear for a few moments, contemplating that. Jack can’t find me here, she finally decided. There’s nothing to lead him this way. Resolved to know what the matter was rather than hide there in fear, she jumped up from her chair, knocking a pile of her kids’ papers onto the floor. She’d been grading them for hours, tsking over what little creativity the next generation wanted to share. Thinking of how much she hated video games, and wishing she had a weapon better than a baseball bat to protect herself, she grabbed up the Louisville Slugger that used to belong to her dad, and the cordless phone. Hurrying down the hall, she heard the crash a second time. She clenched her teeth, worried but determined to face her fears. When she peeked out through the blinds at the porch, the full moon lighted up the creature that had invaded her yard.

  A dog. A really big, wolfish-looking dog. Maybe a German shepherd or a husky. It wasn’t nosing through the garbage, though. The dog was staring at her door with a quizzical look, its head turned to one side.

  She flicked on the porch light, hoping to scare it away and trying to remember if she’d locked the alley gate or not.

  The brightness startled the animal into action. It leaped and bounded to the back of her yard, disappearing into the bushes. She sighed. “Must belong to the neighbor.” Kendra didn’t feel much like knocking on anybody’s door. It was eight o’clock at night. Most people had to work in the morning. Most people would be winding down and maybe even in bed. But, she supposed if it had been her dog, she’d want it back in her yard where it belonged . . . if she had a dog.

  She let go of the blinds and flicked off the light switch. After setting the bat back in place, she hurried to the front room and peered at herself in the mirror. She tucked a loose wisp of her black hair back into her ponytail and checked her teeth to be sure there wasn’t anything stuck there. Good enough, she thought.

  She hadn’t actually met her neighbor. She’d spied on him when he was moving in. Tall, real tall. She knew if she was standing in front of him, she’d have to tilt her head back a bit to see his eyes. He had worn sweatpants the day he’d moved in. Sweatpants and nothing else. His chocolate-skinned chest was huge—straight out of a Marvel comic page—chiseled and defined. His arms were all muscle too. She swallowed down her nerves, imagining what it would be like to be wrapped up in those arms.

  Kendra slipped on her house shoes and headed for the front door. It was late October. The chill was definitely in the air. Her footsteps sounded loud in the fallen leaves. She walked across her lawn and slipped through the small opening in the shrubs that parted their front yards. When the Beamans had lived there, they’d always wanted her to feel welcome. Mr. Beaman had chopped that spot out just for her. She missed the old couple, but the wife had suffered from dementia. They’d moved to a managed care home and sold their place, leaving Kendra alone.

  She shuffled up the three steps of the neighbor’s porch, feeling like she was in familiar territory because she’d been in the house plenty of times and knew it well. Kendra knocked.

  She listened but couldn’t hear a TV. The windows were dark. Maybe he’s asleep. She wondered which bedroom he’d taken. The master was nice but dated, and the guest room was right outside her bedroom window.

  She knocked a second time—harder.

  A howl broke out in the night, then another.

  “Hello!” she shouted. “Anyone home?”

  The lock clicked. The door opened. Her neighbor stared down at her, his dark eyes narrowed in his stern face. He looked mad.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you—”

  His eyes shifted to stare over her shoulder. He grabbed hold of her upper arm and pulled. “Get inside.” His deep voice sounded cryptic—as if she were in danger and in need of his protection.

  A shiver traced down her spine. Her new neighbor forced her into his home. He smelled good, like the wilds beyond her house, pine needles and fresh earth, rain and cool autumn air. Kendra couldn’t help but breathe deep when her body collided with his bare chest. She turned her face to the side and saw why he had been so rough.

  The dog was bounding straight for the open door.

  He snapped it shut and slipped the bolt. A yelp and a thump broke the silence.

  “Is that your dog?” she asked.

  “No.”

  His house was pitch black. Kendra tried to see more than the pale light of the moon shining through the thin gauze curtains, but everything was obscured by the darkness. “I, um, saw it in my backyard. Thought maybe it was yours, so I came over to let you know.”

  “I don’t have a dog.” She felt his chin brush the top of her hair. He inhaled. His fingers gradually released her wrist. She wanted him to keep holding her, as ridiculous as that seemed.

  Claws grated against the door.

  “Should we call animal control?”

  He took a step away from her. The cool air in his house parted them. She wanted to step back toward him, breathe him in, touch his rock-hard chest with her fingers, get lost in his body heat and the closeness of another person.

  “Animal control,” he repeated as he pulled the curtain aside to look out. “No. Not a good idea. He’ll go away in a while. Just wants to hunt, most likely. Probably snuck out of his owner’s yard to find . . . a girlfriend.” He chuckled.

  “Oh.” She felt silly now for bothering him, and a little disoriented in the dark house.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry. Let me turn on the light. I was working in the office.” His shadow mingled with the darkness until she hadn’t a clue where he was. She heard his feet brush over the carpet. A light flicked on, illuminating a very empty living room. There was only a brown couch. The once cluttered room that had filled her with a sense of home and warmth was now cold and empty.

  Kendra glanced around before her attention returned to him. He was hardly dressed, wearing only a pair of pajama pants that weren’t even tied. She wondered if he had underwear on. It didn’t look like he did. Heat flushed her cheeks. She lifted her chin, focusing on his bare, chocolate-colored chest. He was even better close-up.

  “Um, I’m your neighbor, Kendra Billings.” She extended her hand.

  He smiled, his white teeth bright in his dark face, his eyes roving over her body, up and down, up again to her face. “Darius Cooper.” His palm met hers, warm, hot. He was all man, dominating and forward. She shivered when he stepped back again. “I’m not done unpacking yet. Still looks bare in here.”

  She nodded. “It took me a year.”

  “That’s a long time to unpack.” His eyebrows tensed. “You live alone?”

  The warning bells in her conscience went off. She should lie, and why had she said that about it taking so long to settle in? Stupid Kendra. Be careful. You don’t even know him. No one knew she was here in his house at the moment. She should make it sound like she would be missed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, old fear rising.

  “Yeah.” Her voice came out in a soft
whisper. It had taken a year to unpack because she had been afraid to settle in—afraid her ex-husband would find her and she’d have to move . . . run. “Just me. I’m divorced.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” Although, she didn’t get the impression he was very sorry at all. Darius nodded and started down the hall, his large hand motioning for her to follow. “Come to the kitchen. I’ll pour us drinks. Then I’ll walk you back to your place if the coast is clear.”

  Drinks? She had a whole pile of papers to get back to and grade. She didn’t have time for drinks with her tall, dark, hot neighbor who was walking around half naked—

  “Do you like wine?”

  Her feet carried her forward. There were no pictures on the wall, nothing to mark the house as his or to give any clues about him. The kitchen was different. Obviously, he spent more time there. A stack of wildlife magazines sat atop the corner of the island table. A huge, decorative wrought iron cross hung from the far wall. Maybe he was religious. A vase of white roses perfumed the air with their unmistakable musk. She remembered those roses. She’d helped Mrs. Beaman plant the bushes. Darius was ogling an unopened bottle of red wine.

  “I’m not a big drinker,” she said.

  He peered at her, his eyes measuring, his gaze searing into her thoughts. She would try his wine—anything he asked her to try. She didn’t think she could deny him. He flashed his grin again. “This one’s sweet. You’ll like it.”

  Kendra nodded her assent. “D-Do you like the neighborhood?”

  “Yes, it suits me so far.” He took two glasses from the cabinet by the sink. There were not a lot of dishes in there, enough for one man and maybe a couple of guests. Eligible bachelor. All alone next door. In peeping-over-the-fence distance. She blushed again.

  He was back to the wine, unable to see her embarrassment. “I like the woods. It’s beautiful now with the leaves turning color, falling all over the ground. It makes me want to roll around in them like I did when I was a boy.” His voice sounded wistful, as if he were remembering that time in his life, and it must have been a happy time. He inserted the corkscrew into the bottle and twisted it with measured strokes, the muscles on his arm flexing. “I feel free here.”

  “Where did you live before?” She suddenly wanted to know all about him, and how to find that happiness so evident in his voice.

  The cork popped. Kendra flinched, startled. Wine streamed into each glass. Darius set the bottle aside and took their drinks to the island. He placed one before her. “Alaska.”

  “Wow, that’s far away. Is it as beautiful there as the commercials say?”

  He sipped at his glass. “More so.” He looked down at himself and frowned. “I guess I should put a shirt on.”

  “It doesn’t bother me. I know it’s late. Sorry I came pounding on your door . . .”

  “Not at all.” He waved his hand, dismissing her apology. “It’s all right. I appreciate the concern about the dog.” He sipped and kept his gaze on her. “Do you have one?”

  “No.”

  “Any pets?”

  She shook her head. “Only at work.”

  An eyebrow lifted as he surveyed her. “And where is that?”

  “I’m a schoolteacher. Third grade. Hawkins Elementary down the street. I have a hamster and two goldfish there.” She reached for the glass and sniffed. The wine didn’t smell bitter at all. Tentatively, she brought the rim to her lips and drank. It did taste sweet, sweeter than any alcohol she’d ever tried. She drank down three large gulps. “What about you?”

  He set his glass on the island and tied his pants. She found herself staring at the curly hairs on his rock-hard abdomen. They ran in a tempting line straight down into his pants. “In Alaska, I did study work for the Department of Fish and Game. A lot of field work. I enjoyed it. But there’s a lot of controversy as well.”

  “Controversy?”

  “While the government is releasing wolves into the wild in the lower forty-eight states, Alaska is passing laws to kill them. Sad and ironic.”

  She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “People usually don’t when it comes to wildlife. There are those that believe everything is in abundance and that there will always be enough to take. And then there are those that see the populations of bear and wolf declining. My job is to track it all and provide evidence one way or the other.”

  “And you believe the animals need to be protected?”

  “I do.”

  It sounded like he enjoyed being out in the wilderness, tracking wild animals. He didn’t seem the type to want to settle down and have no excitement on her suburban street. “What are you going to do in this boring little town?”

  He chuckled and set his hands on the island. She liked his laugh. It was honest and kind. “I have a promise of three years of study in the Rocky Mountains. It’s stable work. Good pay. I’ll be gone from home for weeks at a time, but I’ll be here to finish writing up the research.”

  Disappointment weighed heavy on her. He’d be gone a lot. She wanted him home a lot so she could get to know him better. “Wow, that’s an amazing opportunity. When do you think you’ll leave?”

  “A few more weeks. I need to get things unpacked here first. There’s a cabin they have reserved for me—just the basics.”

  “Sounds more like freedom to me.”

  His face grew solemn, and he looked past her at the small sitting room where Mr. Beaman used to read to his wife, long after she no longer could respond to him in any sort of coherent way. It was an office now. “Maybe freedom isn’t what I meant when I said that earlier. I grew up in a place like this neighborhood. Maybe I miss that feeling of home.”

  “Home.” Kendra nodded. “I think I know what you mean. Feels like you belong here?”

  He took in a deep breath and let it out in a melancholy sigh. “Almost. And almost might be as close as I get.”

  He swept his hand over his hair, tightly curled and cut short in a neat style. She wondered what it would feel like to touch his hair, his face, and his lips . . . Her little fantasy could go on all night. “Hey, maybe you’d like to come over this weekend for a barbeque?”

  He looked skeptical. “You like to cook outside?”

  It was Kendra’s turn to grin. “My dad runs a portable catering business. I used to fill in when he needed help back home. Best ribs you’ll ever taste.”

  He tipped his glass to her. “I’ll hold you to that. I make a mean barbeque myself.”

  “Saturday then. Six o’clock in my backyard.”

  “I’ll bring the potato salad.” He sipped, his face solemn again, his eyes searching her.

  Kendra noticed a flash of gold in his brown eyes that she hadn’t seen before. “Really. Potato salad?”

  “A man can make potato salad.” He finished his glass. “I garden too.” He nodded toward the vase of roses. “I plan to put in a vegetable plot after the winter. Already started to turn the ground.”

  “I could water it for you when you’re gone,” she offered.

  Darius nodded. “I may take you up on that, Kendra.” He got the wine bottle and filled his glass. After he set it between them on the island, she felt him surveying her again, his gaze taking her in, memorizing her. The house smelled different already—like man with a slight hint of cologne.

  After two more glasses and the smooth feel of a buzz making Kendra a little light-headed, she decided she better get home before she did something she’d regret. Like tell him I stared at him the day he moved in, that I think he’s the most handsome man I’ve seen in a long time, or, more likely, fall asleep in his kitchen. “Do you think it’s safe out there now?”

  “I’ll protect you.” He held his hand out to her. Kendra took it and realized how warm he was. She was a little unsteady on her feet and had to hold on to him for support.

  “I guess I’m a lightweight.”

  He smiled and chuckled. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  She smiled back and closed her eyes, immed
iately regretting it when the world began to spin. “Bed, yes . . .” She leaned closer to him and gulped in deep breaths, thinking she’d rather fall into bed with him.

  Chapter Two

  Darius led her across his lawn and through the opening in the bushes. She was small and pretty, her dark, curly hair thick and drawn into a ponytail that he wanted to untie. He couldn’t stop staring at her. His neighbor had a sweet innocence that he found tempting. But he fought his instincts and remained a perfect gentleman. At her door, he kept watch while she fumbled with her keys.

  The dog wasn’t what she thought it was. The dog wasn’t a dog at all. The pack wanted him to go hunting tonight. Darius was tired of running through the wilds. In truth, he missed the life he had before. And before was so long ago. Everything used to be normal. He grew up in a suburb of Chicago, second son of a Baptist preacher and a housewife. He had fond memories of his childhood. Part of him wanted that kind of life now—a life with children and a wife to come home to. The other part of him—the part that lived in the night and hunted on all fours—wanted that, too, in its own way. It was well past time for him to find a mate.

  A howl came to him on the crisp night air. He guessed Matthew must be down the road at the edge of the thick patch of forest by the neighborhood. He was probably pissed about Darius slamming the door on him. Had to be done, though. He couldn’t very well explain the wolf. There were only four others here—and only two were like Darius. The other two were what they seemed—stragglers who had wandered far from their release in Yosemite. He figured they didn’t know the difference. They were content with the companionship, and both were female. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to couple with them, not that they didn’t submit to him and lure him. He was too human to give in—even when he wasn’t human.

  Kendra’s door finally opened. He could tell she was embarrassed and almost drunk. He’d have to remember not to let her have more than one glass next time.

  “Thanks for the wine.” She turned to face him. Kendra stared at him as if she’d been caught in the headlights of a racing car. Instead of bolting, she stepped into the light, lifted up on her tiptoes in her ridiculous pink slippers, and kissed him.