Page 2 of The Bookish Girl’s Guide to Mating with a Werewolf (Mate Hunted #1)

It was way too normal for a werewolf. He should’ve been named Fang or Cedar or something.

His eyes closed, and a shudder rolled down his spine.

“Do you know about werewolves?” Nico’s friend asked.

“Only what I learned from smutty romance books.” The answer slipped out before I could stop it.

Nico’s eyes flew open.

They were still red.

Maybe brighter, even.

“Fantastic,” the friend muttered. “I’ll be back. Don’t look at any other men, and don’t move. Better yet, step closer to Nico.”

He disappeared around the corner.

I watched Nico stare at me for a moment.

Was he thinking about killing me?

Kissing me?

Eating me?

…if it was eating me, I really hoped it was the fun version.

“I’m not sure what exactly is happening here,” I said.

He didn’t reply.

He didn’t even blink.

Maybe if I moved closer to him like his friend suggested, he’d have an easier time talking?

Honestly, I should’ve been running in the other direction.

Instead, I found myself stepping carefully around my shopping cart. And slowly closing the distance between us.

I watched Nico closely as I moved, looking for any sign that going toward him was a bad idea.

He didn’t budge.

I wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

He wasn’t going to attack me if he wasn’t breathing.

Probably.

I stopped a foot or so away from him, looking up at his face in question.

Just how close was I supposed to get? All up in his business, or just?—

One of his hands landed on my hip. It was huge. Warm, too.

With one light tug, he pulled me to his chest.

My hands sprawled over his pecs as I tried—unnecessarily—to catch myself. They were thick. Super thick. No one should be that strong.

The red in his eyes grew brighter.

“Easy, Cucumber,” I whispered, once again speaking without thinking it through.

Why had I called him Cucumber?

I knew his name.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I was going to have to blame it on whatever weird, werewolfy magic made his eyes red. Otherwise, he’d think I was insane. If he didn’t already.

Which he most-likely did.

Yikes.

His forehead creased. Probably because I’d nicknamed him after a freaking vegetable. One that could be considered suggestive.

Yeah, that was smooth of me.

“Damn,” a male voice behind me said.

I didn’t recognize it as Cucumber’s—err, Nico’s—friend’s voice.

When I started to turn around, his friend spoke up.

“Eyes on Nico, remember?”

“Right. Sorry.” I refocused on the red-eyed hunk.

Why was I apologizing to a stranger in the grocery store?

Patriarchy, maybe.

Or lack of sleep.

It could’ve even been survival instincts while surrounded by potential werewolves.

The world may never know.

Oh well.

“How the fuck is he still in human form?” the new new guy asked.

“He’s Nico,” the friend said.

Newcomer grunted, like that was a good enough answer. Then asked, “How are we going to get him to the truck?”

“We’re not. She is.”

I wanted to look over my shoulder, to see if there was another woman they could be talking about.

I didn’t want to be responsible for getting a red-eyed werewolf to a truck. What if he tried to pull me in after him or something? I liked sexy wolf books, but that didn’t mean I actually wanted to end up trapped with a shifter dude.

“What’s your name?” the friend asked.

When no one answered, I knew he was talking to me.

“Abigail,” I said, looking up at Nico.

The red in his eyes was definitely getting brighter.

Should I be worried about that?

“Abigail, we’re going to need you to lead Nico out of the grocery store. Pretty soon here, he’s going to lose control and wolf out. He won’t hurt you, but it would be better if it happened outside rather than in here,” Nico’s friend said.

My chest tightened a little. “I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that.”

“The alternative is watching him shift in front of a shit ton of pasta,” the newcomer said bluntly.

“Is he going to turn into an actual monster, or like, a wolf?” I checked. My heart was definitely beating faster.

“Just a big wolf.”

That was better than a monster, I supposed.

“And how likely am I to end up wounded or bleeding in this situation?” I asked.

A growl rattled Nico’s chest.

His eyes closed again, and his whole body shuddered.

I tried to step back, but his grip was even tighter on my waist.

“He won’t hurt you,” the friend said quickly. Too quickly. “Nico and his wolf are always in agreement. He probably hasn’t shifted because they don’t think it’s safe for you in here. Getting outside as soon as possible is ideal.”

“Theoretically, if I tried to run to my car right now, what exactly would happen?” I tried to sound upbeat, and like I wasn’t considering doing exactly that.

“He’d catch you,” the newcomer said, just as direct as before. “And bite you, probably.”

I was starting to prefer him over the friend.

“So much for him not hurting me.”

“Not that kind of bite, Cupcake,” the newcomer drawled.

“What other kind of biting is there?”

“The kind where he marks you as his mate for life. It would make him your husband, whether you liked it or not.”

My eyes widened.

Marriage for werewolves only required a bite?

Shit.

I needed to get out of there. Hot werewolf sex was one thing, but marriage was something else entirely.

The friend cleared his throat. “Not to be annoying, but it would really be better if we started moving now.”

Right.

I had to walk Nico out to his truck so he could shift. Hopefully, when he wolfed out , I would have time to get the hell out of Dodge.

Or Moon Ridge, I guess.

Before sleep deprivation got me married.

Not that I was against marriage. I wasn’t. Not necessarily.

But I was against marrying someone when all I knew about them was that they liked grabbing cucumbers.

…in a non-sexual fashion, of course.

Gah, I needed to sleep.

I was seriously losing my mind.

Cucumbers were the last thing I should be thinking about at the moment.

Forcing a harsh breath out, I pasted a smile on my face and met Nico’s eyes again. “Let’s go to your truck, okay?”

He didn’t make a sound.

“Just start walking,” his friend advised.

I turned around awkwardly in his arms, since he didn’t let go of my waist, and started shuffling down the aisle.

The grocery aisle.

Not the wedding aisle.

Because I was not marrying the sexy wolf dude who liked cucumbers.