Page 12 of Can’t Help Growling in Love (Harmony Glen #9)
Chapter
Nine
ASHER
I get through my shift high on sugar, caffeine, and the anticipation of June’s arrival.
It’s a quarter to five, the sky is still dark, and I’ve swept the studio, taken out the trash, aired the small rooms, and wiped down all the desks and counters that were getting dusty.
An indie rock playlist I put together is playing in my headphones so I can listen to what’s on the radio right now, but instead of relaxing like I’d usually do, I’m puttering around, tidying up the space.
I have two hours on the clock, which might be weird for June. She’ll have to wait quietly for a few minutes as I read the news segment and the bits of the early morning program, but other than that, I’ll show her around, not that there’s much to see.
I sniff my armpit. I washed and put on a fresh t-shirt half an hour ago. Shifters tend to keep stashes of clothes wherever they can, and I guess I follow the same habit, even though I never shift to my full wolf form at work. What would be the point? I can’t speak as a wolf.
Later next week, I’ll take time off to spend the full moon alone as usual.
I’ll have to decide if I want to lock myself up in my padded basement overnight or if my mindset is steady enough to run free in the conservation area behind my house.
It might be worth it, even if there’s a chance I could run into the members of the Harmony Glen pack in the forest.
Ideally, a wolf spends his full moon with his mate, but even if June really is mine, we’re nowhere near that.
I don’t want to scare her this early in a relationship—not that we have a real relationship yet.
One kiss doesn’t make her my girlfriend.
And now I sound like a fifteen-year-old experiencing his first rush of lust.
Which is appropriate, given that I never really got to experience that normal high school life, and my sex life has been almost nonexistent up until now.
My anticipation builds with every passing minute, and I even step outside, staring at the overcast sky, wondering if she’s done with work yet.
Then I shut the door firmly and tell myself to calm the fuck down. She’ll be here soon enough. Freaking out won’t bring her here any faster.
My phone screen lights up at twenty minutes after five.
I’m here.
I take off my headphones and trip over the cable in the rush to get to the door. Just before I open the padded inner door, I force myself to take a deep breath and chill. A second or two won’t make a difference, and I’ll appear less feral to be with her.
But when I step into the entryway and see what’s outside the glass front door, I rush forward, flicking the lock to let June inside.
“Oh, shit, are you okay?” I reach for her hand and yank her over the threshold, getting her out of the rain and into the dry entryway. “I didn’t know it was raining.”
June bounces in place to shake the water from her clothes. “Um, yeah, it just started as I was leaving.”She tilts her head back and smiles at me. “Hi.”
I frown at her in return. “You should have called. I would have come to get you.”
“It’s no big deal. You’re working, after all.” She shrugs out of her jacket. “Is there anywhere I can hang this to dry?”
I sense that she doesn’t want to talk about this, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy with her arriving soaked through and chilled.
I stomp into the studio and motion at her to shut the door behind her, then rummage through my stash of clothes and pull out a pair of sweats that might have shrunk in the dryer and an old hoodie.
“Here.” I hold out the clothes to her. “There’s a bathroom behind that door. You can change if you’d like.”
She takes the clothes from me. “You won’t be happy until I’m dry, will you?”
I shake my head. “Please.”
Smiling, she disappears through the door, and I whirl into the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea. Something about finding June shivering on my doorstep sits wrong with me, and I’d rather do something about it than brood, so I take two mugs from the shelf and set the teabags inside.
By the time June emerges from the bathroom, drying her hair with her t-shirt, I have two steaming mugs ready for us, complete with teaspoons for stirring the honey I put in the tea.
June accepts the mug and takes a careful sip. “Mm. You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?”
“Too sweet?” I ask, watching her closely.
“Nope, just an observation.” She sets the mug on the counter and turns to look at the room. “So, this is where the magic happens?”
I snort, taking in the well-used space along with her.
“Yeah. Or rather in there.” I point to the twin booths, one of which is darkened while the other is waiting for me to return to the mic.
“We usually only use the left one, but Stella has let me use the other one to record the audiobooks and stuff.”
I put in two hours of recording time soon after I arrived for my shift in the evening, while I was still fresh. I’m nearly done with this audiobook, and then I’ll get to start on the documentary my agent has hooked me up for.
“You don’t have to be in there throughout your shift?” June motions at the booth. “I always thought you sit there and listen to the music.”
I take a damp curl resting on her shoulder and give it a gentle tug. I twine it around my finger, marveling at the smooth texture, then let it go. “No, we cue up music and pre-recorded segments so we’re not constantly live. It would be too exhausting to be on for an eight-hour shift.”
June walks to the wall of records, studying the titles. “I missed out on the Dracula chapter tonight. We had a traffic accident, so I was called in to assist.”
“I’ll send you the recording. You can share it with the nurses if you’d like.” I move closer to her, unable to stay away, even if it’s just on the other side of the room. “Was it bad? The accident?”
She makes a so-so motion with her hand. “A smaller car ran the red and T-boned a larger truck. The car driver was critical for a while but will make it with some damage to his legs. It’s the passenger in the truck who was really lucky. If that car was any bigger, she’d be dead.”
“But she’s fine?” I frown at her, wondering how she can be so calm about this.
“Yeah, she’s got a concussion and a few minor lacerations, but she’ll be fine.”
“It doesn’t get to you?” I study her closely, admiration rising for her—and her colleagues.
“It does, but you learn to let it go. You can’t bring the work home with you, or it eats you from the inside.” She flashes me a quick smile. “That, and the hospital runs a pilot program where all health workers get access to therapy if they need it. And I do, so I’ve been going for months now.”
She talks about mental health so easily. I swallow, then offer up a truth of my own.
“I’m an Army vet. Walked away from that soon after the Great Revelation, after I took a hit in my knee that shattered my kneecap.”
I resist the urge to lean down and rub my hand over my knee. I’ve told her about it, but not the cause of the injury. The scars have healed, courtesy of my accelerated healing, but the screws in my bone still ache sometimes.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That can’t have been easy.”
I shrug like she did earlier. “Therapy helps, like you said.”
June fidgets with her sleeve, and it only registers then that she’s wearing my clothes. My breath hitches in my throat, and I swipe my gaze over her, from where she cuffed the sweatpants to make them fit to the way the hoodie hangs loose around her shoulders.
“Your eyes are golden,” she whispers.
“I want to kiss you again,” I admit, my voice coming out all gravelly. “I liked kissing you before.”
I’ve been thinking of nothing else since. Getting through work was torture. I kept replaying the soft touch of June’s lips, the exquisite taste of her.
“I want that, too, but can I touch you?” Her hands twitch at her sides. “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
“You can,” I rumble.
June reaches for me, and I lower my head to capture her mouth with mine.
At the taste of her, I groan and close my eyes, then lick her tongue to drink up more of her essence.
She grasps my t-shirt first, fingers twisting in the fabric, then reaches for my shoulders for leverage.
I take her waist and shift her closer. I haven’t felt this way in years, and the need explodes inside me, a feral, snarling thing that demands I keep this woman, devour her, please her.
“Asher,” she gasps as I trail kisses down her neck, right to where her scent is the strongest, on her neck.
It’s where the mating bite belongs. My hindbrain supplies the information, and my mind goes blank, want and desire pulsing through my veins.
I’m shifting, unable to hold back the change, because she brings out the parts of me I usually keep hidden.
My cock is hard against her hip, but she doesn’t seem to mind—her scent blooms, the caramel notes deepening, so fucking powerful.
I want to kneel between her legs and find out what her pussy tastes like, but I can’t, not yet.
Her fingers slide from my shoulders to my neck, and I shudder at the sensation.
She pauses, but I kiss her again, letting her know I’m loving every single moment of this.
She moans, and I capture the sound, then suck on her lower lip.
She scratches the back of my head with her blunt fingernails.
I can almost imagine what it will feel like to take her in my half form, where she’ll have fur to hold on to while I?—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
An annoying sound pierces through the haze of lust, and I groan, leaning my forehead against hers. “Fuck.”
June pulls away from me, her eyes wide. “What is that?”
I take a step back, though I don’t release her waist. “I set an alarm earlier. To remind me that I have to read out the news and schedule more music.”
“Oh.” She glances around, as if she’s only now becoming aware of where we are. “Crap, you’re still working. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”