Page 1 of Loan Wolf (Green Valley Shifters: Generations #1)
1
GABE
G abe saw Clara the moment she walked in, and felt his heart catch in his throat.
His wolf wiggled in joy and delight and it was everything that Gabe could do to keep himself from rushing her and falling at her feet to roll over on his back.
Clara Montgomery.
She probably didn’t even remember him. He was four years older than her, which was a whole lifetime at the age they’d been when she moved away.
The only interaction they’d ever had was the time they were in the Christmas Pageant where the squash baby Jesus replacement had gone rolling down the aisle. He’d been Gabriel the angel, and she’d been an actual angel, playing the role of Mary, all golden-haired and adorable, effortlessly directing all the kids to her every whim.
He’d known then that she was something special, but hadn’t recognized what she would mean to him.
Not until now.
Our mate! Our mate! Go sniff her and lick her and make her ours!
This is a funeral, Gabe reminded his wolf. We are not licking anyone.
Gabe took a seat at the far side of the gymnasium, in the back, where he could just see her without twisting his head and staring. He managed to keep people between them at the buffet simply by avoiding the line altogether. He wasn’t sure what food would even do in his stomach, the way he felt right now.
He ought to just leave. He hadn’t been friends with Gran, though everyone in town knew her at least a little, and he’d paid his respects.
His wolf was like a reluctant toddler or a dog who’d forgotten how to walk, dragging at the end of a leash. We have to staaaaaaay!
“Gabe, good to see you.”
When Fire Chief Turner stuck his hand out, Gabe reluctantly stood and shook it and murmured something that was hopefully coherent about terrible loss to the town , and pillar of our community . Most of his brain was still stuck on Clara, and his wolf was howling like a loon in his head.
He was not doing a good job of not staring at her, either, and Turner swiftly deduced where he was looking. “Oh, Patricia and Clara were able to come! Look how that girl grew up!”
Gabe was definitely looking, no matter how hard he tried not to.
Clara was tall and lithe, and she was wearing a modest black dress that went to her knees with a distracting amount of swish. She had long, strong legs and long, strong arms, and her hair was just a shade darker than it had been when she was a child, falling in loose ringlets to her shoulders.
She was eating biscuits and gravy in her lap with grace better suited for something French and fancy.
“It’s always nice to see a local make it big,” Turner observed. “Have you heard that she’s on track to be the principal dancer of some highfalutin ballet company in New York?”
Of course Gabe had heard. As much as Green Valley had expanded since Clara left fifteen years ago, there still wasn’t much happening, and Clara’s stepmother, Patricia, kept strong ties in the little town. Everyone knew about Clara’s skyrocket dancing career, her fabulous wealth, and her angelic reputation.
Gabe realized that Turner was waiting for an answer and he was still staring at Clara like he’d never seen a pretty girl before. “Yes!” he barked. “I heard!” He covered his loud outburst with a shrug and a scowl, and turned to find something—anything—to do, just in time to see Trevor and Aaron bearing down on Clara.
Ours , Gabe’s wolf said dangerously, and Gabe swallowed his impulse to tackle the two young men and start a funeral brawl.