Page 43 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

Luna yelped, foot skidding on the carpet. Her twirl turned into a fall, and Oliver reached out automatically to catch her. “Careful!”

She blinked up at him. She was pressed against his chest, her hands splayed on his stomach where they’d flown out to catch herself. In the last few weeks, she’d touched him more than anyone had in a full year.

Oliver stepped back, nodding at the door at the end of the guest hallway. “Uh…basement’s down here.”

“Right,” Luna said. Her cheeks were flushed again.

She’d been blushing more lately, which was odd.

She’d touched his chest often enough. She’d touched his bare skin, touched it sweaty and heaving, touched him while he was inside her.

There was no reason for her to stand there blushing after he did something so innocent as stopping her from stumbling.

“Don’t fall,” he called behind him as he headed down the basement stairs.

“Ha, ha,” she said, following him down. She sounded distracted, but she was back to her usual peppy self when she continued, “You remember we don’t all have night vision, right? It’s dark down here.”

“We don’t have night vision,” he said. “We just see—”

“Better, I know. Lights please!”

He flicked on the light switch.

Luna squinted in the dim light. “Not much better. Okay! Where’s that drill?”

Oliver headed over to the workbench and pulled open a drawer.

Luna frowned around at the basement, which was mostly bare. “Looks a little empty.”

Oliver looked up from the drawer, expecting Luna’s face to light up with apologetic realization.

“Because your house burned down with all your stuff inside it!” She winced, giving him another stupidly cute smile. “Got it.”

He waited for the anger to surge back. It was definitely there, the same way it always was whenever someone brought up the fire. But it was a distant simmer compared to the raging heat it used to be.

He snorted, grabbing the drill out of the drawer and handing it over. “Do you know when we can expect this back? I’m not borrowing Jackson’s.”

“A few days. Maybe. I don’t know how long a stall takes to put together, and I don’t think Chester does either. He’s a bookstore guy, not a building guy.” She looked at him, expectant.

“No,” he said automatically.

She leaned on his shoulder, batting her eyes.

He groaned loud enough that she giggled. “Jesus. Fine.”

“Thank you!” She twirled again, and he eyed her warily as she came to a stop on the concrete. “I’m going to miss this place. It’s so nice doing things for the community. If I want something at home, I just go and buy it!”

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “That must suck.”

“Ha.” She shrugged, her smile dimming. “It’s just nice, is all.”

She bit her lip, tucking the drill under one arm. He thought about asking her if she’d ever held a drill in her life. Then he thought about Uncle Roy, never letting himself have an earnest moment. Luna was leaving soon. He could get over himself for a sentence or two.

Oliver sucked in a bracing breath. “Everybody’s going to miss you.”

She blinked. The disappointment drained from her face in an instant, replaced by a teasing grin. She set the drill on a desk next to her, sliding a finger over the metal tip. “Everyone?”

“Sure,” he said, trying uselessly to stop his heart from speeding up as she walked closer. “Sabine finally had someone as competitive as her in board games. And Leo had someone who would let him paint their nails.”

He told himself he wasn’t disappointed. Just because he’d resolved to not end up like Uncle Roy didn’t mean he had to walk around with his heart on his sleeve like an idiot.

“Right,” Luna agreed. She came to a stop in front of him, their shoes touching.

Even in the dim light, she was beautiful.

Even bundled up on a hike or panting on a run.

Even when she was yelling at him that first night, when she was nothing but a stranger he’d been chained to, he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away.

The bond fizzled in his chest. It was so close. It wanted closer. Oliver couldn’t pry it apart from his own want, burning just as bright.

“Are…” He tore his gaze from her tempting mouth. “Are you staying for the fair?”

She blinked. Her pupils were huge.

“I need to ask Hector,” she said. “He still thinks I’m leaving as soon as the bond is broken. So…”

He frowned, indignation sneaking through the lust. “What? Why haven’t you told him about the fair?”

“Hmm?” Luna broke out into an aw-shucks smile, the fake one she used when she wanted to change the subject. “It’s nothing. I just—”

“Did you not tell him it was important?” He scanned her face, trying to look under the cuteness crap. “Or did you tell him it was important, and he didn’t believe you?”

“Um,” Luna said quietly, voice climbing several pitches. “That’s—that isn’t—”

She shook her head, leaning up. She slid her hands up his shirt again.

“How about,” she started, “we don’t talk about my fiancé when we were obviously just about to— Whoa, hey, why are you so tense?”

He shook his head. Someone was coming toward the basement door. He didn’t recognize the scent, but there was an uncanny feeling sinking into his bones as the footsteps approached.

“Seriously,” Luna said. “Is someone holding the front desk at gunpoint, or are you just still weirded out every time I talk about—”

She cut off with a gasp as the door swung open.

“Hector!”