Chapter 13
Willow
The wolf gathering wasn’t a total wash. As we left, Wyatt snagged a plate of his grandmother’s wild blackberry cobbler cookies.
Hand in hand, we passed through the corn maze and pumpkin patch to where a shoulder-high wall of hay bales separated tourist areas from the agricultural fields. The autumnal facade concealed the less majestic farming equipment, tractors, and sheds.
Here, Randy sourced most of the produce that was sold at Midnight Market and delivered to local businesses.
Gourds, pumpkins, and heirloom corn varieties all grew in smaller sized patches, marked off with signs.
Clearly, half of the fall fare that decorated the town stoops came from this back field.
Randy and his older brother had volunteered to mend the graveyard fence today, which meant we had the whole place to ourselves, and it was nice to escape from the bustle of pumpkin pickers.
Wyatt led me over to a scattered patch of hay that cushioned the now-bare pumpkin patch.
He shook off his jacket and laid it down for us to share as a makeshift blanket, then offered me the plate of cookies that smelled like heaven.
I bit into one, and my taste buds instantly awoke to the zing of blackberry and cinnamon. Wyatt’s grandmother taught jam making and canning to tourists at the Bats and Broomsticks B&B, and everyone always raved about her wild berry preserves.
Now, I understood why.
I would be dreaming about these cookies for the rest of my life. I wondered if she’d be willing to bake some for the café . . . but then I thought it was probably best not to harass an octogenarian.
“Wow.” I moaned, cramming the cookie into my mouth as I reached for a second. “These are better than Eloise’s cider donuts. Don’t you dare tell her I said that,” I scolded with a jam-covered finger.
Wyatt held his hands up. “I would never piss Eloise off like that. Your secret is safe.”
He took one of the cookies for himself, then laid the plate down close to my knee, knowing full well that he was going to be lucky to get a second one. “That was . . . intense,” he hedged. “I’m sorry my mom acted that way.”
“Honestly, it went better than I’d expected. It’s just going to take some time for us all to warm up to each other.”
The sun peeked through the clouds, and a ray of golden light cast over his blond hair, setting it aglow. He had been stone-faced and rigid when he’d picked me up at the café. Now that we were far from his pack, his shoulders relaxed and the gloom in his eyes was melting away.
“Thank you,” he said, squeezing my thigh. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you, but I will.”
I shoved my second cookie in my mouth and hummed with pleasure. “You’re more than welcome.”
Wyatt’s brow popped. “Are you trying to make me jealous of my own grandmother?”
“I’m in love with these cookies.” I giggled around the crumbs.
“You’ve never acted this ravenous about any of my cookies,” he accused, a coy smile playing on his lips.
He reached out and took my hand, lifting my index finger to his lips and licking the jam clean.
My stomach fluttered, and though I’d never had any interest in exhibitionism before, I was seriously considering ripping my clothes off.
I was still a bit sore from our last round of mind-blowing sex, but I couldn’t seem to keep my mind out of the gutter.
Everything Wyatt did turned me on, from the way his arms bulged when I grabbed his biceps to how he stood up to his mother without being disrespectful, to the way he grinned at me like he knew the exact direction of my thoughts.
Yep. I was definitely ovulating, and I was still reeling from the fact that Wyatt had known before I had. Who needed a period-tracking app when you had a werewolf around?
Wyatt tipped his head toward the plate of cookies. “Another? I like seeing you insatiable.”
And there went my insides, melting again. Maybe in accepting Wyatt’s mating bond, I’d kicked some sort of hormonal trip wire.
I pulled him closer. “I feel pretty ravenous for you.”
His eyes fell to my lips.
“The feeling’s mutual.” He leaned in and our mouths met with a swelling surge of need.
I knew he was trying to take his time with me, kissing me slowly and tenderly before teasing my tongue with his. In one smooth motion, he scooped me by the waist and saddled me onto his lap. Even through two layers of jeans, I could feel how hard he was for me.
I rolled my hips, grinding down on him and stirring the tightening in my belly.
This was nuts. We could get caught at any second, and I hated how that little bit of danger made me want him even more.
He gripped my ass, adding to the pressure already building between my thighs and making me groan.
I was soaking the lace of my panties, and the friction on my clit was driving me wild.
Wyatt pulled back. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his voice rough and strained, and I listened. “Keep your eyes on me, Willow. I want to see it all.”
He gave me his full attention and demanded mine.
This was a level of vulnerability I’d never experienced before, like I was truly being perceived for the first time.
We’d gotten to know each other so well over the years, it seemed impossible that we wouldn’t have chemistry in the bedroom—or pumpkin patch—but this was another level of intimacy.
I felt like I was the main event.
Was that some weird wolf superpower?
I decided it had to be because I hadn’t wanted to dry-hump anyone in a very long time.
His fingers tightened. “Eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see how good I make you feel.”
That statement instantly sent my eyes rolling back. The mix of friction and the heat in Wyatt’s gaze had me crashing into an orgasm.
“Wyatt, oh—” My words were cut off by a drawn-out moan. My body tensed, then rode the sweet relief of completion.
His lips curled into a victorious grin, and he held me close when I tried to squirm away. While being so seen by Wyatt was invigorating, I felt like I was close to falling into eternity. It was terrifying.
But then he kissed me, pulling me just a bit closer to all the things I was too afraid to admit I wanted.
“I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he murmured against my lips.
“What was that you were saying earlier about going back to your place?”
That made his grin turn into an eager smile, but it deflated almost instantly. “Shit, I forgot I have to meet Billy at Midnight Market before the night crowd. One of his walk-ins malfunctioned, and I told him I could make him a few fresh batches of ice cream base.”
I’d always been attracted to Wyatt’s kindness and willingness to help anyone who needed him. It seemed so natural to him to volunteer, but in this moment, I didn’t want to share him with our friends.
Couldn’t we be selfish, just this once?
Every time we parted, it felt like this delicate thing we were building might shatter. Why did I have this terrible nagging in my gut that all the good things might be taken away from me?
I tried to hide my worry behind a pout of mocking disappointment. With a chuckle, he lifted his thumb to tug my bottom lip free, and I kissed him, trying to persuade him to change his mind with my roving hands and eager tongue.
He groaned, and the rumble vibrated through the palm of my hand on his chest. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
I nipped at his bottom lip before answering, “For you, I can be.”
He let out a pleased hum. “Then I promise I will make it worth the rain check.”