32. Isabella
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ISABELLA
The bells above the door in Tea Leaves jingle as I finally make my way inside. After Nick dropped me off this morning, I spent almost an hour just soaking in the tub.
My yellow polka dot dress swings around my knees, hiding the small bite mark on my upper thigh. My thighs and abs ache, and I swear I can still feel him inside me.
I’ve never felt better.
Getting motivated to actually leave my house was tough, but I want to see Georgie.
I want to gossip with her, chat, and sneak a glance at Nick as he builds the stage in the park.
I want to be an active part of the life around me.
It’s such a new feeling, wanting to connect and having that reciprocated. I’m enjoying leaning into it.
“Well, there she is,” Georgie croons from behind the counter. “The woman herself.”
I curtsy, shooting her a smile as light as I feel.
“Hello, Georgie,” I reply, coming up to the counter.
“The café has cameras.” She points to the corners where the walls meet the ceiling. “Did you know that?”
Her smug smile hits me like a bullet as I run through all the delicious antics Nick and I got up to the other night. Of course, she has cameras. I’m such an idiot.
I huff a nervous chuckle, wishing the earth would open up and swallow me whole. “Huh. No, I didn’t.”
“Thankfully for you,” she smirks as she works on my tea. “I accidentally deleted the footage of the past week. I’m a klutz like that sometimes.”
Relief is a gentle wave, coaxing my anxiety away and bringing a genuine grin to my face. “Thank you for that.”
She shrugs. “My finger slipped, so I have no idea why you’re thanking me.”
All I can do is smile at her. I haven’t known her for very long, but I don’t think I’ve ever made a friend this quickly—at least, not a real one.
She packages up a couple of chocolate chip croissants without me asking and slides the box across the counter with my tea. “I know Nick is probably taking all your free time at this point, but if you ever get sick of his ugly mug—I think you might just owe me a drink.”
“I think I might just.” I pull the box and my drink into my arms. “I’ll text you soon. Between spending time with him, managing his schedule, and planning the anniversary, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind.”
“Managing his schedule?” She pops her hand on her hip. “You sure he wouldn’t share you with me?”
I laugh, shaking my head at her. “I promise I’ll make time for us.”
“You better!” she sings, waving me out. It’s as if she knows my feet want to carry me to Nick. I feel slightly obsessed.
A fresh autumn breeze ruffles my hair as I step onto the sidewalk. I imagine what this town will look like in winter.
Will it snow? It rarely snows in the winter in Seattle, but this far north, will that change? Will there be children making snowmen in the park at the center of town? Will they be having snowball fights outside of Clover’s?
Will the cherry blossoms bloom bright in spring? Will the salty air make its way into town in the breezy weather?
Longing settles in my chest.
Maybe staying here and trying to find my purpose with Nick by my side is enough. Perhaps it’s worth leaving behind an apartment I don’t care about, and no real future. I haven’t been able to find anything that makes me feel like Lunamois does.
My phone pings with an email, and I quickly scan it while I make my way toward the park.
According to the most recent email from Clover, five vendors will need booths. But Chloe March is going to sell her yarn and chicken eggs after all, and Polly Vale agreed in a previous email to sell some of her wares, too.
Not for the first time, I thank God that Nick is here and knows what he’s doing.
I get a few waves from locals I’ve met while organizing. Juliette from the bookstore, and Faye Chestle, whom I’ve learned is the self-proclaimed ‘town gossip’.
My feet land on soft grass as I step into the park. Nick has his back turned to me, muscles shifting under his tight, long-sleeved shirt. Muscles I remember clinging to as he rewrote everything I thought I knew about sex.
My teeth sink into my lower lip as he raises his hammer high, showing off his flexed bicep. I might actually start drooling at this rate.
In a flash, he turns, a low growl traveling through the space between us. Is his hearing just as good as his sense of smell?
Slowly, he lowers the hammer, placing it down on the stage in front of him. My heart drums an aggressive beat as he walks toward me with all the authority and confidence I felt when he was buried inside me.
I lower the box of croissants and tea to the ground. In what feels simultaneously like a few seconds and a few years, he’s finally directly in front of me.
“Do you know—” he trails his thumb along the pulse point on my neck. “—how utterly intoxicating you smell right now?”
I tip my head back, allowing him better access. “You could smell me from over there?”
A feral grin splits his face. “I can smell exactly how badly you want me.”
I should feel the hot white lance of embarrassment, but he dips his head to take a deep inhale directly from behind my ear, and I melt into his arms.
“You’re wet, Izzy,” he continues, his breath causing goosebumps to blossom on my arms so fast it almost hurts. “I can smell how soaked you are.”
I can only whimper in response, so utterly entranced by him.
His hands wander along my body, unrestrained in their perusal. “Let me take you home.”
I shake my head, letting loose a small moan when he nips my earlobe with his teeth. “We—we need to finish the stage. And build five booths for the vendors.”
He chuckles, hands coming to rest on my cheeks. “And what about what you need? What about what this sweet mouth needs?”
“Nick…” I release a breathy sigh. I want him to take me home. I want him to never let me leave.
The black pupils of his eyes devour the blue completely. And they’re focused entirely on me. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, woman.”
I didn’t know he’d be like this all the time. Possessive, sexy, demanding. The sweet man I met with crystal blue eyes might still be in there, but right now? Right now, he’s all wolf.