He smiled as he gazed down at me. “Just like a thunderstorm doesn’t have that muchrain.”
“I’m not sure that’s acompliment.”
He slanted his mouth over mine, but before breaching the distance, he whispered, “From a man who loves storms, it is the greatest compliment.” And then he kissed me until our bodies became as exhausted as ourminds.
4
When I awokethe following morning, Liam was already gone and the bedsheets were cold. I checked the time on my phone: six-thirty. The meager hours of sleep I’d gotten would have to do. There was an inn to run and an uncle to check upon.
I ran a brush through my hair, then applied the tiniest bit of concealer to hide the circles beneath my eyes. I had my mother’s eyes—cornflower blue—but where hers had always glittered, mine seemed as dull as smudged glass thesedays.
After tying up my hair in a ponytail, donning jeans and a black V-neck, I fluffed my pillows, straightened my sheets with military precision, and tucked my comforter. I hoped no guests had come down for breakfast yet. I was sure we had the basics, but without Evelyn, the offerings would be modest: toast, jam, butter. Evelyn and Mom had taught me how to cook, but I wasn’t especially good at it. I’d mastered the basicsthough.
I quickened my pace toward the kitchen, expecting it to be empty and dark, but light leaked from under the door, and the scent of caramelizing onions clung to the air. Was my uncle making himself a snack? I pushed my shoulder into the swinging door and froze at the sight of Evelyn bent over thestovetop.
Her merlot-tinted lips arched up. “Morning,querida.”
The door smacked my back—not hard, but hard enough to make me stumble forward. I caught myself on the steel island. “Ithought—”
“That I would leave you to run this place on your own? I made Frank drop me off an hour ago.” She shook her head, and her bottle-black hair danced over the apron protecting her jeans and red top. She seemed happy. Happier than I’d ever seen her. Blissful. “Can you fetch the warmingtrays?”
As I went to retrieve them from the shelving in the back of the kitchen, I checked over my shoulder a few times to make sure Evelyn wasreal.
“Liam spent thenight?”
I dropped one of the tray lids, and it clattered loudly against the tiledfloor.
As I crouched to retrieve the fallen lid, she added, “I am not judging. I am simplyenquiring.”
I cleared my throat. “He—butnothing. . . ”
Evelyn laid the tongs she was flipping the thick slabs of bacon with on the spoon rest and walked over to me. She grabbed both my hands. “Querida, you are almost eighteen. You are allowed to have sleepovers with boys. Just promise me that you will not settle for a man who is anything but kind to you. You deserve kindness andrespect.”
The memory of last night flashed through my mind, and then another memory, an unwelcome one settled over it like tracing paper—the night of the engagement party when I’d stopped by his place and he’d let his bestial nature override his human one. Was I being naïve to place the blame on the wolf inside him? Were our wolf natures so different from our two-leggedones?
Evelyn’s black gaze tracked over my face. “Ness? You are worryingme.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to worry aboutme.”
“I will always worry about you. I love you too much not toworry.”
The image of her tied to a chair flashed behind my lids. I gritted my teeth, trying to stop my canines from sharpening. I longed to visit Eric’s basement and sink my teeth into Lucy’s fleshy, palethroat.
My aunt hadn’t hurt Evelyn, or so Evelyn had claimed, but she was the type to bear her pain in silence. She’d never complained about the arthritis that locked up her joints or the old bullet wound in her legs that still made herlimp.
* * *
Breakfast went off without ahitch.
Emmy, one of the women who worked at the inn, arrived shortly after me and insisted on handling the service. She asked where Lucy was, and I mentioned she’d gone after her heartbroken son. Emmy shot me a pained smile. She’d worked long enough at the inn to be up to date on Clark family gossip. What she didn’t know—or at least I didn’t think she knew—was the dual nature of heremployers.
While Emmy took care of the early risers, I prepped a tray of food that I brought up to my uncle. I drew his drapes open and tried to coax him out of bed to eat, but he didn’t move. I checked his pulse to make sure he was alive. He was. After my third failed attempt at getting him up, I let myselfout.
As I went back downstairs, it dawned on me that I’d be in charge of the inn today. The responsibility tightened my stomach so abruptly that I pressed my palm againstit.
It’d beokay.
I couldmanage.
