“So, where’d you learn how to cook anyway? I’m lucky if I can boil an egg.”
“The ranch in Texas,” he answered with a shrug. “My dad’s still the ranch manager there. Growing up like that, surrounded by ranch hands and cattlemen, you pick up a few things. All my brothers and sisters know how to cook, hunt, and deliver a calf.”
“I didn’t know you had any siblings,” I commented, gnawing away at my piece of cheese like an overgrown mouse.
“Yup. Three brothers and three sisters. All older.”
“Wow. That’s a big family,” I said, wondering what it would be like to be part of such a large family. It had just been me and my grandparents, and then just me, for most of my life, and although it had been lonely a lot of the time I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be constantly surrounded by siblings.
How would you ever get any privacy?
I shuddered at the thought of what puberty must have been like in a packed house.
Awkward.
“So you’re the baby, huh?” I asked with a teasing lilt in my voice.
From the flicker of long-suffering annoyance that passed over his face I got the impression that he’d been called that more times than he cared to count, but there was another emotion buried beneath the irritation. There was a deep well of sadness and anger in him, kept locked away. When it didn’t appear that he was in the mood to discuss his family any more, I eased myself down from the countertop and laid out plates on the table, pouring us both a much deserved glass of wine.
***
As delicious as dinner was, it may as well have tasted like sawdust for as much as I enjoyed it, my thoughts distant. Try as I might I was unable to focus or find a comfortable spot at the table, my skin itchy and tight like a wool sweater that was two sizes too small.
When I shifted in my seat for the third time in as many minutes, Holbrook set down his fork and looked at me across the table. “What’s wrong?”
“Hmm?” I asked, looking up from my plate.
“You’ve been pushing around the same piece of spaghetti for the last five minutes. You seem a little distracted.”
“It’s nothing,” I replied automatically, blushing at the sharp edge to my voice. Setting down my fork I ran a hand across the back of my neck, trying to ease the muscles bunched beneath my skin. “Sorry. It’s the wolf. I haven’t changed for a few days; she’s feeling a little antsy.”
Reaching across the table he curled his fingers over mine and squeezed. “I can’t let you go run. I wish I could, but you know I can’t.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“The wolf…is it, er…safe around people?”
“I guess so.” The weight of his question finally penetrated my thoughts. “Wait. You mean, change? Here? Now?”
“It’s just an idea,” he said, blushing. “Forget it.”
“I’ve never changed in front of a mundane before.”
“I didn’t mean right here in the middle of the kitchen,” he said, rising from the table to put his plate in the sink. Even the tips of his ears had turned pink, the flush extending up the back of his neck. “Forget I mentioned it.”
It was true I’d never shifted around mundanes before, my little escapade at the Knotty Pine was the closest I had ever come to anyone other than a were seeing me go through the change. The wolf didn’t like being around people; she preferred the quiet solitude of the woods where she was free to run and hunt. Here in civilization she was nervous, on edge, and unhappy to be constantly surrounded by the close press of humanity.
I hadn’t been nervous about shifting since the first couple of times it happened. It had terrified me for the first few painful moments, and then the ecstasy of releasing the wolf had taken over, washing away all my fear. Since then I’d never been afraid of the change. But sitting here, in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the scent of tomato sauce and garlic, I felt nervousness bloom in my gut.
God, it would feel good to shift though, I thought.
Pushing back from the table I took my plate to the sink, gently bumping my shoulder against Holbrook’s. Some of my nervousness slipped away when he smiled at me and nudged back.
“Can I use your bedroom?”
I chuckled when he almost dropped his glass in surprise, managing to catch it just before it struck the edge of the sink.
“Sure.”
Chapter 31
MY HANDS SHOOK as I peeled off the borrowed shirt, dropping it on the bed. Now that I was about to go through with it, my stomach twisted into knots. Sinking down on the edge of the bed I rested my elbows on my knees and ran my hands over my face, rubbing away the grit in my eyes.