“Here, take this,” Brenna said. “I’ll get the candles and flashlights before—”
As Brenna walked quickly toward him to and hand him the hot chocolate, another hearty gust of wind battered the cabin. The lights winked out.
Brenna gasped, “Oh no!”
Chapter 7
Brenna’s foot snagged on the carpet. Her body pitched forward, and her heart lodged in her throat. Unable to stop her momentum, her fingers lost their grip on the hot mugs, as she tumbled toward the couch.
The hot chocolate hit Eric first.
He howled.
Her body impacted next. Her chest slapped against his chocolate-soaked T-shirt and hard body. With whip-like action, her head snapped forward and smacked Eric’s temple.
Pain flared across her forehead. The backs of her eyes throbbed.
“Oooooh,” she groaned. She tried to roll off Eric to sit by his side, but his arms circled around her.
“Ouch.” Eric’s deep voice vibrated in her ear. “You pack quite the punch…with your head.”
“I’m so sorry. How burnt are you?” She cringed inwardly. Maybe she should get off him first and give him a chance to check. What was it about this guy that made her turn into a fumbling, bumbling teenager all over again?
His arms tensed around her, but he didn’t let go. “I’ll live. I have to admit, the aftercare saved me.”
Aftercare? Bonking heads? Since when was that a good thing? She rubbed her forehead. “Sorry about that, too. My mom always said I had a hard head.”
“Probably a good thing, considering how much you’ve smacked it around today. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Think my pride is more bruised.”
His chest rumbled as he chuckled. The action rubbed her breasts and sent a lightning bolt to her core.
“I don’t have the agility of a true werewolf,” she rambled on. “I was always so clumsy compared to the rest of the pack. That always bothered me.”
“You’re a true werewolf.”
“I’m a null.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It did to you.”
Eric opened his mouth to object, but snapped it shut instead. Because she was right, and he knew it.
A sharp pain pinched her heart and she scrambled to get up.
Stay! Maisie whined.
Eric’s arms tightened at first, as if he would fight to keep hold, but his muscles relaxed, and he released her.
“For the record, when I said I enjoyed the aftercare I wasn’t talking about your head-butt,” he said, his voice more gravelly than usual, as if it had churned in a cement mixer before coming out.
Brenna sucked in a breath. Her heart beat so loudly, he could probably hear it from where he sat, a foot away. Warmth radiated from his body. With the flickering light from the fireplace, Brenna looked down at Eric. She wanted to run her hands down his chocolate-splattered chest—the same hard packed muscles that had pressed against her moments before.
She also wanted to throttle him. He hadn’t denied her null comment. He simply didn’t address it at all.
“Um, Brenna?” Eric’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “The candles? Do you need help finding them?”
