by Anh Leod
“Sounds diverse.”
“Yeah. And they all pretty much run themselves.”
“So you don’t dial in very often?”
“No. I spend most of my time in the woods.”
“I guess that record was what, a vanity project then? If you didn’t need the money?”
He turned away from the window. “No, it was released. It was a big hit in most of the world. I just never became a celebrity here. I used the money I earned to buy my businesses. My family never had any money. We camped on vacations because it was all we could afford. That’s how I fell in love with the outdoors.”
She spoke without thinking. “Why do you always seem so different when we first meet? I used to think it was part of the game we played with each other, but sometimes I wonder. Are you just a really good actor?”
He smiled faintly. “My mind drifts far away when we aren’t together.”
She hoped that didn’t mean he did drugs or something. “Do you think we could meet more often? Not just August and October?” She’d keep asking until she had a real answer.
“Why?”
“I get lonely.”
“It always sounds like you stay busy with your work and travel.”
Her stomach, though empty, began to churn.
“It’s just a job like any other. The best part of my life is the time we spend together.”
“I understand.” His voice had softened.
Did he? Could he really understand the threehundred fifty-odd days when they weren’t together had become gray to her, that it was only these few days that provided any color anymore?
He looked down, shaking his head. “You’re my touchstone. When the summer is in its glory, then again as winter begins to close in. I’m alone otherwise.”
“You don’t have to be. I’d like to spend more time with you.”
“It wouldn’t work. You’re an urban woman. I can hardly stand to be in a small town for a few days.”
He sounded sad, as if he truly believed they were incompatible.
She could change, it would hardly hurt at all. “I love the outdoors. I shoot two nature calendars every year. I spend weeks in tents in the middle of scenic wilderness.”
“I mostly live outside, that’s a lot different than your lifestyle.”
“Are you trying to let me down easy or is that really your argument against us trying to have a real relationship? I’m almost thirty and I don’t want to get old alone.” She paused, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t imagine being with anyone else, but I need more, Jem. I’ve often wished I had a copy of your CD so I could hear your voice. I dream about you. I want you in my life for real, not just this fantasy we live for the few days we’re together. I could have made other choices, could have had other men, but I waited for you. I’m still waiting.”
“It’s complicated.” Looking up, he captured her gaze with his own and she could see he really believed that.
“How could it be? We’re just two people. I can move south. Relocating is no big deal. I can go where you are. You have a house, even if you aren’t often in it. I can set up there. We can’t be together all the time, but enough.”
“When is your birthday?” he asked.
“Next Friday. Why? Do you want to celebrate with me?” She hated the tremor in her voice, but she wanted this so badly.
“As long as you understand I can’t live your urban life.” He rose from his chair and sat down on the bed next to her, taking her hand in his.
His hand was solid, warm. He wasn’t a dream, she really had him for these few days each year. Was he finally willing to accept more time with her?
“That’s fine. We can compromise.” She forced herself to breathe, smile, hold in her anticipation.
“No, we can’t.”
Why not? “So it’s your way or the highway?”
“It’s my way or we keep things as they are, at least until you find someone else.”
“There won’t be someone else,” she insisted, kissing his fingers. “Your face is imprinted on my heart. I never even look at other men anymore.”
He kissed her fingers too, then wrapped both her hands in his warm grip. “I feel the same way, Catee, but I always thought you’d move on because I couldn’t give you enough.”
“I guess you did until now,” she said, staring into his eyes. “I love you.”
He squeezed her hand. “If you want to celebrate your birthday with me and talk about our future, visit me next weekend.”
It might not be a declaration of love, but it was an enormous step forward.
“Set up the tent,” she joked. “I’m there.”
—
On Monday morning, Jem watched Catee drive away from the hotel. He still felt a little shocky, as if his human heart didn’t quite know how to expand around the knowledge of his woman’s love. A future?
How could Catee possibly accept the future he had to share? Still, she made it clear he had to act or it was time for them to part forever. In one direction or another, she was intent on making a change.
He’d never want to cause her pain, but it was part of the bargain. If she, however improbably, accepted, at least it would be only momentary. They would have a long life together, though it would be very different from the one she had probably imagined.
The truth was, he loved her too, so much that even after weeks in wolf form, he could always find her again. She was always there ahead of him.
Maybe, if he dared dream it, soon she’d be beside him too.
With that thought on his mind, Jem melted into the hills behind the motel. Soon the human vanished and a wolf loped his way south. The wolf smelled female on his flesh and was content with the results of his long journey.
Chapter Four
The next Friday, Catee stepped out of the Chinese restaurant near her apartment, clutching a small container of hot and sour soup and some cookies for dinner later. Her friends had thrown her a lunch to celebrate the big three-o, but she’d left the evening free, not sure what she’d be doing.
Jem had emailed her directions to his house, but going there seemed like such a big risk now that she was back in her regular life again. What if she discovered something strange about her dream lover? Maybe six or eight days a year of perfect sex were worth a little mystery. How many people had even that much great sex in a year? She’d never had one stupendous sexual encounter until she met him.
In the parking lot, she stood until the soup started to burn her hand. How could she make this decision? She looked down at her food while she shifted it to the other hand. Then she had an idea.
A fortune cookie had started her down this road, right? She might as well look to another for guidance.
After she set her soup on the hood of her car, she leaned against it and tucked all the cookies but one into her pocket. With trembling fingers, she opened the cellophane. It was so bright this summer afternoon that Catee saw spots, so she fumbled with the cookie and nearly lost it to the pebbled ground before she cracked it open.
You will take a chance—and win.
Her pulse began to race. If that wasn’t a message from the Fates, she didn’t know what was.
She unlocked her car, got in, and drove east. The soup slid off her car and splashed onto the street when she made the first turn, but she scarcely noticed. If she believed the cookie, and she had to, everything was going to be just fine.
Since she’d found out Jem’s album had actually been released, Catee had bought it for her iPod. His songs kept her company as she drove out of Beaverton and toward Portland. Her feet tapped as she sang along, having already memorized most of the words.
—
Eventually, she passed the Damview Hotel and went through The Dalles, then turned south at Biggs Junction. The road wove through hills that seemed to push against her car. For miles, the arid landscape held little but sagebrush, scrub oak, and grasses. When she saw the Elk Crossing sign Jem had mentioned, she took the next exit then f
ound the dirt road that led to his property. By then, she’d rolled the window down to enjoy the clean nearly-September air.
He had told her there were deer, antelope, and elk, but she didn’t see any evidence of the magnificent animals as she drove, tiny rocks popping against her tires. She was raising a cloud of dust that probably scared off any animals in the vicinity.
Cottonwood trees began to appear above the brush as she continued along the road, darkening what was already becoming twilight. Would she reach his cabin before dark? He said he lived simply and she was afraid to know what that meant. No electricity? She’d passed some very dilapidated properties on her drive down here.
When the vista opened again, she saw not a cabin, but a house made of logs, like one of those designer homes along I-5. There was a wide window on one side and she was sure it would have a view of Mt. Hood to the west. In Native American lore the pointy, dormant volcano had once been a chief who had competed for a woman with another chief. All three were transformed into local volcanoes.
The thought gave her pause. She had never worried about Jem having other women until this August, but they were apart most of the time and he was dangerously attractive. What if she had competition despite his denials? What else would have kept their relationship in its tidy little box? She pushed her foot down on the pedal, speeding her toward the cabin. There could be someone with him.
Though he’d finally told her where he lived, it wasn’t like they’d set up a definite time for her arrival.
She’d just been happy to see he had an internet connection. That would make her being here much easier if she decided to stay.
She pulled into the packed dirt driveway that circled around the front of his house. Large boulders and plantings gave structure to the drive, and behind, an old rocker rested invitingly on a long porch. A light shone from the front window and the porch light was on. At least there appeared to be electricity.
As she stepped from the car, the front door opened. Jem stepped out, looking like his Saturday self, alert and rested. She drank in the sight of his broad, friendly face. His teeth showed as he grinned at her dusty sedan. She waved and he responded, his gait loose-hipped and easy as he stepped off the porch. His feet and chest were bare.
“It’s the birthday girl,” he said, tapping the trunk of her car. “Any luggage?”
She shook her head, wondering when he’d touch her, if he was alone, if he was glad she had come.
The questions overwhelmed her for a moment, but she forced her throat to open and her mouth to move. “I didn’t know I was coming.”
His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t blame you.”
“Were you expecting someone else? The lights—”
she gestured to the porch.
“I was hoping for you.”
Her heart thumped in her chest, suddenly lighter. “You were?”
He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Of course. Even if you didn’t answer my email.”
“Sorry about that. I was nervous until I saw you.” She searched for words, then fell back on the usual thing she might say. “Ready for some hot sex on a different weekend than usual?”
He tilted his head. “Is that all I am to you?”
She held back a laugh. “No. Or I wouldn’t be here. I admit there’ve been times when I liked the little compartment we tucked each other into. I felt there was a special treat waiting for me all the time, but there’s a big difference between the way a woman thinks when she’s in her mid-twenties and when she’s thirty.”
“So you’re thirty now?”
She made a show of checking her watch. Her friends had given it to her as a joke birthday present. It was hot pink and glowed in the dark. “I was born at nine twenty-two in the evening.”
“So you’re still twenty-nine. Plenty of time to make a considered decision.”
“Yeah, before the panic hits.” She clasped her hands behind her back, as if to put the watch out her mind.
“Come here.” He held out his arms.
With a happy spring to her step, she moved swiftly across the four feet separating them and tucked her cheek against his chest. She smelled his familiar scent and felt like she was home.
“It’s hard to believe it’s only been three days since we last saw each other,” she murmured. There wasn’t the usual shock of unfamiliarity to his embrace. He was just, well, familiar. Wouldn’t it be nice if that were always the case? She glanced up.
One thing hadn’t changed. That intense look let her know what was coming.
His lips met hers in a searing kiss, somehow mingling with the mountainous, forest air, both different and yet the same as his riverside kisses. No water here, no winery, no hotel room. Just the trees and brush and his animal scent.
Her tongue skimmed his lips and he let her in, tangling with her as she explored the contours of his mouth, his large, square teeth. His hands drifted down her back, pulling her close to his aroused body.
She tugged at his hair when he ground his erection into her belly, making her pussy swell.
She broke the kiss and looked up, pushing his fringe of hair to one side. “You fit here. I’m used to you vague the first night, but you aren’t now.”
He lifted his chin, settled again. “No. I’ve hung around all week, keeping body and soul together so we could talk. I took care of a lot of business, actually.”
“Do we need to talk right now?” She let her fingers slide down his neck.
His hands moved to her shoulders and he stepped back so their torsos were no longer joined.
“Maybe I’m reading too much into this visit. But in my mind, we’ve gone as far as we can without the truth.”
“What truth?” The butterflies were back in her stomach. Nothing strange lingered here in the woods. Jem lived in a normal house, in an off-the-beaten-track but perfectly acceptable kind of place.
She felt safe here, like she could belong. It was a sanctuary in the wilderness.
He pressed his lips together, then his brow furrowed. She had a sudden realization that this was the moment that could change everything.
“I’m listening, Jem.” She put her hands atop his.
“I’m not like other men. I have a secret.”
She kept her gaze on him. “This secret has kept us from being a real couple.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I want to stay with you,” she said. “I let out a breath I’d been holding for years when I saw you here. This is so right. It seems normal.”
His lips curved. “I felt the same way when I saw you get out of the car. I’d been happy enough, I thought, but really I’d just been marking time.”
She felt her face light up. “Yes, that’s how I’ve felt, increasingly, as the years have gone by. At first, there were all kinds of adventures, all kinds of firsts, but the last two or three years I feel like I’ve been living for August, then for October. Everything kind of goes dark until summer’s end.”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly how I’ve been living. We’re quite a pair.”
“At least we come alive together.” She leaned into him again, curling her arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe so she could lick across his upper lip and taste his mouth. She lifted her heels and rubbed her mons against his cock.
His hands cupped her ass as he raised her to the hood of the car. It was warm from the drive and she lifted her hips so he could pull off her panties and toss them into the underbrush.
“You’re mine,” he growled into her ear. “Even if you’ve turned into some proper panty-wearing type.”
“I’ll never wear them again,” she promised, pushing down the loose black pants he wore. His cock sprang free, long and thick. She rolled her hand along the tip of his cock then smoothed the moisture along his length, pumping him into even greater arousal.
His back arched in pleasure, but his gaze stayed firmly on hers. “I want you with me forever.”
“I want that too.” She never wan
ted to say goodbye to him again, wanted to sleep with him every night and wake up with him, fresh and clear, with no hint of vagueness in his eyes.
He leaned over her, his cock bumping the entrance to her channel. “I only have one birthday gift for you. But if you accept, it will change your life in more ways than seem possible.”
Was it a ring, she wondered? Was he going to propose? She tightened her muscles, spreading her legs apart as he smoothly dove down her channel.
Her moist heat welcomed him and his body scent and heat surrounded her like a warm embrace.
“Ahhh,” she gasped. Her head fell back against the hood of her car. She was boneless yet taut, bowed around him.
He moved away then surged inside her again.
“Do you want my gift?”
Her eyes opened. “Of course. What is it?” Maybe they’d have an October wedding at the winery?
He pressed in again. She felt moisture trickle down her thigh and pumped against him, forcing him against her clit. He felt so perfect inside her.
She wanted this every day, forever.
“It’s a bite.”
“What? I don’t understand.” No ring?
He stopped moving, buried deep inside her. “A wolf bite.”
She swallowed, stared into his eyes. “What?” she repeated, thinking this was simply another game he played. Did he belong to some kind of secret club that required members get bit by an animal?
“That’s why I’m out of sync when we meet.” He let go of the breast he’d been squeezing and gestured out into the hills. “That’s where I roam.”
He paused, giving her time to reflect. Roam? His word choice evoked an image of wild animals. He almost made it sound as if he were the animal.
“More and more these last few years, I just stay out there, wandering, until it’s time to see you again. Something in the air changes and I know I need to head north to you.”
“You use the air instead of a calendar?” She meant it as a joke, but his solemn expression connected to some part of her that knew he was different.
“My senses aren’t like yours,” he said.
She swallowed hard, knowing this leap of faith was both insane and realistic. Was she ready to hear this? “You’re a werewolf?”