Page 66
Story: Wolf's Reluctant Mate
“Wait for it,” he says, that grin tugging at his mouth—mischievous and dangerous. He’s clearly got a plan.
We leave the backyard gathering. As we round the corner of the house, moonlight spills over everything in a silver wash. Then I see it—and stop dead in my tracks.
It’s parked beside the yard like a beast waiting to be unleashed—his latest obsession. The chrome gleams so brightly, I can see my reflection in the tank.
“She looks fantastic,” I whisper, reaching out to trace the sleek curves.
“She’s going to look even better with you on her,” he says, handing me a black helmet.
I don’t try to hide my smile. He slides the key into the ignition and hits the start button. The engine answers with a deep, throaty roar that sends a thrill through me. I swing my leg over the seat and settle in behind him. The rumble between my thighsis pure adrenaline. He remembered. Through all the chaos and everything we’ve been through, he remembered.
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek to his back. He revs the motor three times then the motorcycle bounds into motion. We tear down the road, leaving the Crawfords’ cabins behind.
The wind hits my face, sharp and cold, but that only adds to my excitement. Houses blur past in streaks of dark and light. All the tension and all the noise in my head fades. This moment belongs to us.
We climb the winding hill toward Shandaken, trees blurring past like restless ghosts. I realize I have no idea where we’re going—but it doesn’t matter. A lake, river, or some forgotten path in the woods. It’s irrelevant. All I need is this—him, me, the open road, and the hum of something alive beneath us.
When we hit the T-junction just outside town, I think he’ll take the turn Monica always raves about. She’s talked about Raul taking her up to the hillside so many times it’s burned into my mind like a dream I haven’t lived yet.
Ray doesn’t turn, though. He keeps going straight into Shandaken.
The engine snarls as we enter town, louder than anything this sleepy place is used to hearing. A few heads turn. Some glare. An older man mutters something I can’t hear, but I see it in the tight line of his mouth.
Ray doesn’t flinch. He rides like the road owes him a debt. I lean in, pressing closer. Let them stare.
We pass through town and into the dark stretch of highway beyond. The streetlights fade, swallowed by night. Trees press in from both sides, looming. A jagged mountain rises in the distance, its silhouette massive against the starlit sky.
After four sharp turns, Ray veers off the road. Gravel crunches beneath the tires, but the bike doesn’t falter. The suspension handles the uneven field like it was made for it.
Ray pulls to a stop, and the engine cuts out with a final purr. He swings his leg over the seat and offers me his hand.
“Here we are.”
I accept his hand, stepping off, and draw in a breath. The view hits me like a punch to the chest, stunning me to silence. We’re on a cliff and the forest stretches below us, dark and endless. Farther in the distance are the scattered lights of Shandaken, flickering like fireflies. Beyond that—tiny and faint—Dawson glows at the valley’s base, a memory cast in gold.
“Wow...” The word escapes me, too small for everything I feel.
“‘Pretty’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, huh?” He squeezes my hand, his smile soft and knowing. “This used to be my favorite place growing up. All these years, it still gets to me.”
“I get it,” I whisper, heart swelling. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this.”
We walk slowly toward the edge of the field, the cool grass brushing my calves. My fingertips graze his. The silence between us stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s… honest. Then his steps falter. He looks at me, his gaze softer.
“Listen, I…” he starts, then hesitates. “Thank you for the past couple of weeks. I was falling apart. I don’t think I would’ve found my way out if it weren’t for you.”
Emotion rises in my throat, thick and sudden.
“Ray,youpushed Monica to look into my mom’s death… you opened the door. You helped me find the truth—even if it hurt. I needed that. You didn’t let me drown in not knowing.”
A bittersweet smile twists across his face.
“Did you ever think we’d end up here? After the mess we made of things?”
“No. God, no. ‘Got off on the wrong foot’ doesn’t even scratch the surface. We were a disaster,” I laugh, feeling light and happier than I can ever remember feeling.
“We were,” he agrees, stepping closer as his arms slip around my waist. “But I don’t want to relive that disaster. I want to rememberthis.Right now. You. Me. This moment.”
“Then shut up and kiss me, idiot,” I murmur, looping my arms around his neck with a grin.
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