The snow began falling on their drive home, but it wasn’t until they’d put the tree up and Jake had carried Daniel off to bed that it started coming down in earnest. Big, fat flakes tumbled down through the night air to pile up on the deserted streets of Wolfe Creek, making driving anywhere treacherous.
Aimee sat on the couch, sipping coffee from a Christmas mug, as Jake carried in an armful of wood for the fire. She watched him over the rim, feeling like she’d known him forever, loving the way he looked at her long and hard as he set the wood down, the heat between them undeniable.
Between decorating the tree and staying for cookies afterward, she’d almost forgotten what had happened that afternoon. Almost.
She shifted on the couch, watching Jake stoke the fire, which crackled and popped with renewed intensity.
“I can feel her here, you know.”
He stood and turned slowly.
“Her warmth,” she said. “Her spirit. It’s here. I hope you don’t mind me saying that. But it’s comforting in a way.”
He watched her, his expression unreadable. The firelight danced across his features, making him look rugged and sexy. His hair was messy and longer around the ears than it had been last week. He looked so un-doctorly. Only when he wore slacks and a tie did he seem to fit any kind of stereotype she’d had. Or maybe she was just getting to know the real Jake. The one without the cool, professional exterior she suspected he put up for everyone else.
After a few seconds he nodded and sat on the hearth, elbows on his knees.
“I can feel her too,” he said. “I think you’re right.”
She waited, not wanting to push. But at the same time hoping he’d go on. She wanted to know about Lizzie, what kind of person she’d been, what she’d meant to him. It was important, because it was part of what made Jake who he was today. An extraordinary man. Which meant she must have been an extraordinary woman.
Jake looked into the fire, clasping his hands together. “You would’ve liked her. Everyone did. She was…special.”
She watched him, feeling anguish in the words. Wishing she could dull it somehow.
He looked up. “How she died...”
She nodded, not wanting to think about that part.
“It was a nightmare losing her. But losing her like that…” He paused, his jaw working. “It’s the worst kind of agony.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“You don’t want to. Really. You don’t.”
The fire continued to spark and hiss, filling the room with its woodsy scent.
“They said it was a bear. Some kind of rogue bear that was probably starving or sick. Not in its right mind.”
“Did they ever find it?”
He looked back at the fire. “No.”
The room fell silent then. The snow continued falling in giant flakes outside the darkened window.
“You know,” Jake said after a long minute. “Daniel thinks that when he got lost in the woods last summer…”
“Yeah?”
“It’s crazy. He was so traumatized…it’s the only explanation.”
“What?”
He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. The house creaked and settled around them.
“He thinks something found him and carried him back to camp.”
“Something?”
Jake paused, as if not wanting to go on. He rubbed his bottom lip, pensively.
“A wolfman,” he finally said. “He thinks a werewolf saved his life that night.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say. Not even knowing how to look. She felt the delicate fingers of panic begin to tickle her throat.
The wolfman had been Zane. He’d found Daniel and carried him back when the search parties had failed and hope was starting to wane. It made sense that Daniel would want to talk about it, to tell the story. But being only three, and having been through such an awful experience, of course all the adults around him would chalk it up to a little boy’s overactive imagination.
“It’s crazy,” he said. “I know. Realistically, I know that.”
She wanted to squirm. This conversation hit too close to home for comfort.
He gazed into the fire, clasping and unclasping his hands like he didn’t know what else to do with them.
“That bothers you,” she said.
He looked up. “Sorry?”
“It bothers you. The wolfman story.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s harmless I guess. Just his way of dealing with what happened. But there’s a part of me…”
She put the coffee cup down and wrapped her arms around herself. Despite the heat of the fire, she was cold.
“There’s a part of me that believes there’s more in these woods than bears and cougars.” He smiled. “Told you it was crazy.”
“It’s not.” She got up and walked over, sitting on the hearth a few inches away from him. He watched as she put her hand on his knee.
“And then there’s what happened to Lizzie.”
“What happened was a terrible, terrible accident, Jake. That’s all. I promise you.”
There was a sudden spark in his eyes. “How can you be so sure? How can the sheriff’s department be so sure? They hardly found anything, barely any evidence to explain what happened.”
Aimee knew that when Lizzie Blackstock was killed, there had been nothing in these woods that would have harmed her. At least not in human or wolf form. She felt in her heart that what took Lizzie’s life was just what the police said—a bold, hungry animal. Nothing more. But she couldn’t exactly tell Jake that. Instead, she simply stared at the floor.
“Christ.” He put his head in his hands. “Listen to me. I can’t believe I’m arguing about this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“It’s just everything that’s happened lately. And Daniel with that story. He believes it. Everything he says, he believes it. I guess it’s got me punchy.”
“You don’t have to explain anything.”
He slid her a glance. “You don’t think I’m nuts?”
She smiled. “You? No.”
“But a little weird. At minimum.”
“We’re all a little weird.”
“On a scale of one to ten.” Some of the tension had eased from his face. His tone turned teasing, playful.
“I’d say a solid five. Quirky territory.”
He held her gaze. For a second, she couldn’t remember what they were talking about. Then he glanced down at her mouth, contemplating it with a look of hunger that gave her butterflies.
She ran her tongue along her lips, wetting them. His breath caressed her skin, warm, full of sex and suggestion.
“Do you snowshoe?”
She stared at him then laughed. “Do I what?”
“Snowshoe.”
“Yes? I don’t know. I’ve never really been.”
“Do you want to? With me?”
She could think of roughly a million reasons not to go back into those woods any time soon. But the look on his face made her pause.
“I have a cabin up by Pike’s Peak,” he said. “I haven’t been there in a while. But honestly, I think it’s time. I need to get past this. This…feeling of not wanting to be out there anymore. I grew up hunting, fishing. It’s how I want Daniel to grow up too.”
The words were thick with pain.
“Anyway,” he continued. “My parents are keeping Daniel next weekend. Kind of a pre-Christmas sleepover so they can spoil him rotten. That kind of thing. I was thinking about heading up to the cabin for the night.”
She tried to think of one of those million reasons for staying out of the woods. They shouldn’t go, right? They just shouldn’t. It was a bad idea to be up there right now. But honestly, she couldn’t come up with anything that sounded even halfway normal. Not to Jake, at least.
Instead, all that presented itself was a mental picture of him minimally clothed.
Part of herself, the wise part, the wolf part, wanted to say no. To ask him not to go. But the other part, the human part with the crazy libido, couldn’t bring herself to say anything.
Shit.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Make a weekend of it?”
She licked her lips again, liking the way his gaze kept dropping to her mouth. Liking the way he leaned in, just a little, but close enough to kiss her if he’d wanted to.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m game.”