Page 84 of All Packed Up

Technically, Griffith had found Nic first, which almost felt like the alpha already had a claim on him, which was a ridiculous thought. But try telling Wendy’s brain that.

With a silent sigh, she turned back toward the water and watched the sun sparkle across its surface as it splashed over rocks and twigs. It was maybe ankle deep, but Wendy wasn’t going to be the one to test it, not in this cold ass weath—

Nic wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, pulled her toward him, and lowered his head to hers. His lips were cold to the touch, but warmed quickly. Wendy parted her lips beneath his kiss.

Fisting her hands in his sweater, she settled herself closer, absorbing his warmth as their mouths moved together.

When their lips parted, clouds of breath spilling from rushed breaths, Nic grinned.

“You looked like you wanted a romantic kiss by the stream.”

Wendy rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile curling her lips. “Oh yeah? How’d you guess?”

Nic chuckled, grabbed her hand, and pulled her through the woods.

“There’s a field out here that used to have old cars in it. We could bang in one of them.” He glanced over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“If a spider crawls in my vagina, I’m suing.”

“What?” Nic’s mouth dropped open, and he stopped in the middle of the woods.

Wendy walked right past him.

“Why is that the first place your mind goes?” he called out to her, bewildered.

Wendy shrugged and kept walking.

Chapter 21

NIC

The forest had grown a lot in the last few years since he’d been here. He didn’t think so much could change in so little time, but nature—and other things—taught him otherwise.

“Watch your step,” he warned, and held a skinny tree branch out of the way.

“I see it, I see it,” Wendy replied, and stepped over the hole in the ground. “What do you think’s in there?” she asked.

Nic watched her race away from the hole and chuckled. “Probably nothing that’s interested in us. Come on,” he urged.

“Is this where you murder me in the woods and bury my body? Oh my god, is Griffith a serial killer? Are we walking on bodies?”

Clearing his throat, Nic waited while she threw out a few other outlandish scenarios. “You done now?” he asked.

Wendy nodded. “You know him better than I do. Where do you think they are buried?”

He saw the grin on her face and shook his head. “For someone who claims not to like Griffith too much, you sure mention him a lot.”

The glare he earned might not have been worth the comment.

“Well, can you blame me? I’m staying in his house, aren’t I allowed to be a little curious? I can be curious about somebody and still not like them.”

“Sure, of course,” Nic murmured.

Wendy huffed, and he hid a smile by speaking again. “You’re allowed to ask me. If it’s something I feel comfortable telling you… I will.”

“How’d you meet?” she asked eagerly.

Did he want to bring up the past, the underground that he’d left behind? No. But for Wendy…