Falling For a Wolf Box Set (BBW Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

by Mac Flynn

  "I want the changes I've made to be a surprise," he insisted.

  "What'll be a surprise is finding your body at the base of the path tomorrow morning if you don't let me help you," I persisted.

  "I will manage." Adam pushed himself from the post and stumbled into the rain. He walked ten feet before his unsteady legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

  I ran out to him in my socks and helped him stand again. "You were saying?"

  Adam sighed. "I was saying that I could allow you to help me if you didn't look inside," he replied.

  I snorted and turned him toward his cabin. "Good, I can get a clean pair of socks down there. Just let me put on my shoes and coat before I'm completely soaked."

  The coat and shoes were fetched, and in a few minutes we carefully made our way down the steep, muddy hillside. Our feet slipped and slid along the filthy brown ground, and more than once we found ourselves clinging to the other to keep from falling. Mostly it was me clinging to Adam, who still had a surprising amount of balance for a man-er, werewolf on such shaky legs. We made the journey mostly intact and arrived at my home soaked to the bone and my nose running as fast as the newly-created spring that ran down the hillside beside my cabin.

  We clattered onto the porch and Adam broke free from my grasp. I regretted the separation for two reasons: the first was the warmth of his body, and the second was the comfort his strong body meant to me. I had to admit it was kind of nice having someone dependable to lean on, physically and emotionally. I'd have to try out more of this whole boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with him.

  Adam slipped into the cabin and came back with a couple pairs of socks. He stuffed them into his coat pocket and pulled off his coat, which he then held out to me. "You'll need this for the walk back."

  I turned to face the muddy slope and cringed. "Can't I stay on the porch?" I pleaded.

  "You'll catch your death of cold, but the way up won't be as difficult as down if you follow along that spring." He nodded at the new spring near the path. "The rocks along there will give you a foothold, and you should arrive at my cabin in no time."

  My shoulders slumped, but I saw he was dead serious and I took the offered coat. I slung it over my shoulders and was glad for the warmth his skin left on the inside. The outside was a thick sheep skin complete with a wool lining. "You kill the sheep yourself?" I teased.

  He chuckled. "Do you really want to know?"

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry I asked." I adjusted his coat atop my shoulders and sighed. "Well, here goes. If you don't here from me tomorrow then I'm probably face-down in the mud somewhere up the hill."

  Adam pointed at one of his pockets and pulled a phone from his own pocket. "Your phone's in my coat, and I have my own. Call me when you arrive."

  "Were you ever a boy scout in colonial times?" I asked him.

  He shrugged. "No, but I was in charge of a troop for a short while about fifty years ago."

  I trudged away from the promise of a comfortable bed and warm fire, and up the hill to the smelly cabin of my somewhat-boyfriend. The climb took twice as long as I hoped, but half as long as I expected. The rocks were slippery, but not nearly as bad as the trail itself. The spring tried to push me downstream, but like the strong salmon I flipped my tail and pressed on. Well, not quite my tail, but I reached Adam's cabin and stumbled beneath the protection of the porch.

  I leaned my right shoulder against the wall and gasped for breath. My pudgy body wasn't made for such stupid stunts and protested this maltreatment of extreme wet-sport exercise. Then the phone rang. My face fell and I pulled the phone from my pocket. The name on the phone read 'Stud.' I pressed the answer button and held it to my ear.

  "Really?" I asked him.

  "I assume you survived the trek," Adam replied.

  "You just had to put that as your name?" I persisted.

  He chuckled. "I thought it was quite suitable for me."

  I snorted. "Only if you're a conceited ass."

  "I'm judging by your tone that you agree with your assessment," he mused.

  "After you made me hike up that godforsaken mountain just to keep a demolition job a surprise from me for a day, I'd say yeah," I told him.

  "It will be well worth the wait," he assured me.

  "I'd better not-ah-ah-achoo!" My neck cracked from the explosion, but I shoved my face in my sleeve before I showered the wet world with stickiness. "I'd better not catch a cold from this!" I growled into the phone.

  "It will give me a chance to nurse you back to health," he commented.

  "I'll fire my nurse and get Doc. At least he'll put me through misery to get me out of my misery. You might prolong it to get more time with me," I accused him.

  He chuckled. "Perhaps, but write and rest. I will see you tomorrow." He hung up the phone and left me with the memory that I still had to write something to show to my boss that I was productive up here.

  I went inside, stoked the fire, grabbed my laptop, and typed away atop the bed. A teakettle and cocoa tin proved to be my companions for the evening and well into the night. By the time I collapsed at some god-awful hour I had two articles researched and written, and was utterly exhausted.

  The next day broke better than the previous one ended because sunlight streamed through the window and into my face. It seemed that no matter where I slept on this mountain I was forever doomed to be awakened by the hateful glare of the day star. I slipped out of the bed, but I remembered too late that Adam's bed was much taller than mine. Rather than the graceful slide onto the floor there was a short fall with a hard ker-thunk at the bottom. My morning breakfast turned out to be wood flooring.

  "Ugh," I groaned as I dragged myself across the floor to the nearby fireplace.

  My head hurt and hinted at the coming of a cold. I willed it to stay away, at least for now. There wasn't any time for a cold, not when my boss was coming. Hot coals still lay in the hearth, and in a moment I had a crackling fire. The cocoa from the kettle revived me and I checked the coats and outer clothes I'd placed in front of the fire the previous evening. Dry.

  Now time to check the old email inbox. I powered on the machine and noticed I there was a new message from my boss. He would arrive today in the afternoon. Plenty of time left for me to panic. After a bite of food I slipped on the double layer and stepped outside.

  The forest was eerily quiet outside. For a moment my heart sped up as I wondered if another werewolf had moved in, but I realized the thick fog that lay around the cabin had more to do with the silence than any supernatural creature. The fog curled around the corners of the home and slipped in front of the porch so that nothing of the ground was seen. I stepped to the edge of the porch and stuck my hand into the mist. The visibility was only two feet beyond me, so I could see the end of my short arm.

  I pressed the coats closer and stepped into the whiteness. My shoes squished through the thick mud as I made my way down the hillside. The rain had covered our tracks from last night and made a fine slip-n-slide trail. I alternated between the trail and the now-dry spontaneous spring, and in a few minutes I arrived at the bottom of the hill. The fog wasn't so thick there and I could see my home. It still stood, and from the depths came the sound of a hammer.

  I reached the porch and Adam clopped outside. In his hand was the hammer, and on his face was a bright smile. However, I did notice he moved slower than usual and his face was still pale. "You're up early," he commented.

  "Ugh," I replied.

  He stepped over and wrapped an arm around my waist. "I thought that's what your answer would be, and you're fortunate in that I just finished the final touches on the house." He led me inside and I was met with his surprises.

  It was like a new home. The kitchen cabinets had been sanded and repainted a blending brown that matched the shining, almost-slick floors, waxed to near-suicidal levels. The dead animals were dusted and the walls around them sealed. The furniture was wrapped tightly in brown cloth so they all matched. A cheerful fire burned i
n the cleaned hearth and a stack of wood sat nicely in a box beside the chimney stones which were now polished. Even the windows were washed.

  I stepped inside and my wide eyes took in all of this in a moment. "Wow," I breathed.

  "I thought you'd like it. There are advantages to not needing very much sleep," he commented.

  I turned to him and shook my head. "You really didn't have to do all of this for me," I insisted.

  Adam shook his head. "But I did. You needed the help, and I could give it." He gallantly tipped his hammer backward onto his shoulder, but the swing caused him to lose his balance.

  "Adam!" I leapt forward and slipped my shoulders under his unsteady side.

  He chuckled, but there wasn't any mirth in the sound. "Looks like I overdid it a little."

  "Yeah, just a little," I scolded him. I helped him over to the couch and meant to plop him onto the cushion. Unfortunately, his arm proved to be hard to slip off, especially as his hand had latched onto my shoulder. We both tumbled onto the couch and I ended up across his lap and pressed against his chest. "Do you wish to speed up the rate of our relationship?" he teased.

  I growled and pushed off him to sit erect at his side. "You did that on purpose, didn't you!"

  "As much as I wish I could take credit, I'm afraid my body isn't quite acting on my orders," Adam told me. He lifted a hand and showed me how the fingers shook and occasionally even twitched. "The fumes from the wolf's bane are much like those used in wars. They have short-term effects on the muscles and nerves of werewolves where they shake as you see here. When exposed to fresh wolf's bane a werewolf may either die instantly or from seizures."

  I waved my hand around the room. "But you did all of this," I pointed out.

  "Most of the work was finished before I went up for dinner. I was fortunate to only need to paint and dust when I returned," he replied.

  "And that took the rest of the night?" I guessed. I cringed when he nodded. "You should have rested," I scolded him.

  Adam cupped my cheek in his shaking hand and his bright eyes smiled into mine. "It was worth the effort to see you smile."

  I sighed and shook my head. "What am I going to do with you?"

  "A kiss would be nice," he suggested.

  I snorted, but obliged him by leaning forward and pecking a teasing kiss on his lips. He wanted to deepen the act, but I pulled away from him and pushed off the couch. "You be a good boy and stay there. I'm going to fix you up breakfast and see if I can't make up for my stupid mistake last night."

  "You don't have to," he insisted.

  "But I'm going to, so you just sit and be good."

  Chapter 5

  I was in the middle of preparing him a strong, meaty breakfast when I heard something large roll down my driveway. I glanced out the kitchen window that faced the road and my jaw dropped into the kitchen sink when a dump truck came slowly into view. Its heavy-treaded tires pushed through the thick mud and at the wheel was Clemens, the old coot from the hardware store.

  "Um, Adam, you order a dump truck?" I called to my guest.

  He struggled to his feet and shuffled over to me to peek out the window. "That would be your gravel," he explained, which actually didn't explain anything.

  "My what?"

  "Your gravel. For your driveway. With all the rain I figured a little gravel would help your road," he told me.

  "I can't pay for something like that," I argued.

  He leaned back and rubbed his chin, but there was a mischievous look in his eyes. "That's strange. I heard the bill was already paid for by an anonymous donor."

  "Uh-huh, remind me to hunt him down and tell him I'm not a charity case," I shot back.

  He sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "Well, it's too late to return the gravel, so you may as well use it."

  I sighed. "You are so stubborn."

  "Then we compliment each other with our similar characters."

  Clemens stopped in front of the house and laid his hand on the horn. It blasted through the woods and shook the cabin. Small woodland creatures raced for the next county and I clapped my hands over my ears. "Well, you'd better tell him where to put that stuff before he does that again and crashes my house down. I don't know what to do with it."

  Adam put on his coat I'd warmed for him and went out to talk to Clemens. I watched them from the front window until I heard my phone ring. My heart quickened. Maybe it was the boss. I hurried to my coat and answered it. "Hello?"

  "Darling! It's been forever since we talked!"

  I cringed. It was Clara Vandersnoot, annoying neighbor extraordinaire. "Hey, Mrs. Vandersnoot, what can I-"

  "Now now, none of that. You need to call me Clara. After all, we've known each other for so long." It'd been a hell of a long two-week relationship. "But names wasn't what I wanted to call you about. I'd love to have you and that dear man of yours over for a spot of tea. Doesn't that sound so British?" She let out a twittering laugh that sounded like bird claws on chalkboard.

  I cringed for various reasons. "I'd love to Clara, but I have guests coming. Important guests."

  "Well, you can bring them, too. The more the merrier." Her voice switched to a lower volume, a reprieve of which my ears were thankful, and I imagined her cupping one hand to the receiver. "Perhaps they'd like to hear about the rumors going around our little community."

  I raised an eyebrow. "What rumors?"

  "Oh, you know! The rumors about Scott Ashton's disappearance. Scott just up and suddenly disappears and-actually, it might not be a good idea if you brought that man of yours. He may night not what I have to tell you," Clara admitted.

  Now I glared into space. "Why not?" I questioned her.

  "Well, you see, the Rodneys believe that Scott's disappearance has something to do with your-was he your boyfriend? I honestly can't remember," she wondered.

  "He is, but what about the Rodneys?" I persisted.

  "Well, they think Scott left because your boyfriend scared him away or-well, did something to Scott. You see, he left all his clothes and money behind, and they just can't find him anywhere. He didn't have any relatives for them to contact, and they're thinking about putting out a missing person's report," Clara told me.

  I cringed. Just what I needed in my life, more complications. "Um, could I get back to you about that tea date? I've got a load of stuff to do-" I glanced outside at the load of gravel Clemens slowly spilled into my driveway, "-and not much time to do it."

  "Of course, darling! I'll eagerly await your call!" Clara hung up and I set the phone on the kitchen counter. I ran my hand down my face and sighed. That creeping cold snuck up on me and made my face flush, but I tamped it down with a quick drink of warm water from the kettle on the stove.

  I leaned over the sink and glared at the faucet. Damn, but this wasn't good. I glanced out the kitchen window and watched as Clemens slowing drove the dump truck around my loop and toward the gate. The truck's bed was tilted upward so the gravel slid onto the ground behind him, leaving a nice, smooth path that wouldn't need much adjustment to make into a proper driveway. Beside the truck stood Adam, who directed Clemens on how fast to drive and where to go.

  It was then I realized I didn't want anything to happen to Adam. Not any more physical or emotional pain, not anymore troubles for being who, and what, he was; just nothing. I wanted to see him smiling and laughing as he was when Clemens swerved a little too far and the gravel dumped off the road. Adam was kind and caring, and even after all the means things I'd said to him, all the accusations and rough teasing, he still had feelings for me. Even if I was still a little hazy on my feelings, I wouldn't let him be hurt.

  Now the only problem remained was how to keep the neighbors from setting up a mob with high-priced pitchforks and top-of-the-line torches, and going after Adam because they believed he did Ashton in. Trouble was, he was innocent. Doc was the 'murderer.' I paused and furrowed my brow. Maybe there was a way I could get Doc into this mess to get Adam out. The trick would then be to get D
oc out. I groaned and slumped over the kitchen counter. This wasn't going to be easy.

  Outside the window the dump truck drove out of sight and Adam walked inside with a bright smile on his face. "Looks great, doesn't it?" he asked me. He paused and noticed my limp position. "Are you feeling okay?"

  I straightened and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Yeah, just a headache," I replied.

  Adam walked up to me and put the back of his hand against my forehead. His frown spoke volumes. "You're a little warm. I'm afraid you might have caught a bit of a fever because of my insistence on you returning-" I grabbed his hand and held it between mine. The action caused Adam to start back, but we didn't break contact.

  I looked into his gorgeous eyes and smiled. "Did I ever tell you how cute you look?"

  He blinked at me and slowly shook his head. "No, but might I ask why this sudden change in your opinion of me?"

  I gave him a grin that made him shrink back. "Um, nothing important." I didn't want to get him involved in my plans with, or for, Doc.

  He frowned. "You're hiding something."

  "No, I'm not."

  "Yes, you are."

  "No, I'm not."

  "Tell me what it is."

  "I'm not hiding anything."

  "Chris, tell me."

  I sighed and hung my head. The words poured from my mouth in one long slur of a word. "VandersnootcalledandshesaideveryonewasstartingtosuspectyouhadsomethingtodowithAshtondisappearing."

  Through his eyes I could see his mind process my information. I expected him to elicit all kinds of different reactions, but laughing wasn't one of them. His laughter echoed around the walls and some of the pallor in his face faded to the usual glow of his skin.

  I leaned away from him and dropped his hands. "I don't really think you getting murdered by an angry mob dressed in the height of fashion is all that funny."

  He now grasped my hands and shook his head. "I've been through far worse than fearing for my life against suede-clad individuals," he told me.

  I frowned. "But they could call the police on you, and those guys are armed," I pointed out.