The Wolf in Sheep's Skin

Chapter 35

“Touch it!” Lilith practically begged, like some h*rny animal who couldn’t control herself. Stop trying to make me touch him! I growled. She’d been arguing with me since we’d started walking.

“Can we talk or something? I respect that you don’t want me looking at you, but having someone following me, growling and snarling, isn’t my thing.”

“Oh. Sure.” What the h*ll are we supposed to talk about? I chewed my bottom lip, trying to think of something, anything, to talk about. Other than his *ss.

“You own a*****e?”

“My sister and I. It was our mom’s.”

“What made you take it over?”

“I like sewing.” Just get me to the border of my territory so I can go home.

“That’s it? You like sewing. Please, tell me more; this is riveting conversation.” He mocked. I sighed and frowned at the tree lines nearby.

“After she had my younger siblings, she didn’t have much time to work. It was either sell the store, or I take it over.” How big is his territory? We’ve been walking forever!

We’d already crossed a few streams, swerving around the confusing terrain. Is he dragging me around or something?

“So you were forced to take it over? You’re resentful?”

“What? No, I love the store!”

“Why?”

“I grew up in it.”

He groaned and ran his hand through the back of his hair. His back muscles flexed. My stomach fluttered at each of his movements. The way his skin shined in the dappled sunlight, how confidently he strode.

“I know my *ss must be very distracting, but I’m trying to have a genuine conversation here. ‘I like to sew’ and ‘I grew up in it’ isn’t helping.”

I frowned, staring at his back.

“I didn’t know you’re capable of genuine conversation. Perhaps you meant that you’re thinking of new vulgar comments. Maybe something about how you’re using your c*ck as a dowsing rod to find the nearest body of water.” I mimicked his voice, rolling my eyes.

He erupted with laughter, loud and rumbling. Birds flew out of the surrounding trees, squawking at the loud sound. His shoulders shook, and he put his hand up, like he was holding his chest. I could picture the wide grin that must be on his face, with his eyes lighting up.

I couldn’t help but join him. I chuckled, the soft sound bubbling from my chest.

“If my c*ck was a dowsing rod, I’d be facing the wrong way.” He said in his usual sultry tone. I could hear the smile in voice, and I groaned.

“There it is!” I shook my head and laughed. “I always knew I’d own the store. I spent most of my time there with my mom. She’d have all these glamorous women come in; she’d make them luxurious gowns. They’d talk about their lives. All the fancy parties they went to. It always felt so thrilling, like I was in the middle of something big.”

“You wanted the glamour?”

“Maybe when I was little? I wanted to be them. Whisked away to some fancy, frivolous life. But I got older, and I realized it wasn’t them. It was her. She had this magic, this way of making them feel beautiful, like they were the most important person in the room. I couldn’t let them go without that.”

He slowed, and my stomach caught in my throat. Why did I say all that? He only wanted to k*ll time, not to hear my whole life story.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much.”

“No. You run your shop to make women love themselves. That’s beautiful. Poetic. Much better than ‘I like sewing’.”

“Don’t patronize me.” I scoffed. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m not good at it, anyway.” I frowned and looked out at the surrounding scenery. A stream was up ahead, with blossoming fruit trees.

“I disagree.”

His tone was confident, reassuring. My heart skipped a beat. I looked away from his backside and my cheeks warmed.

“Why do you bake?” I blurted out.

“Keeps my hands and mind busy. I collect hobbies; figured baking would be a good one. I get to make the food, then eat it. It was challenging at first, but it grew on me. Once I got good, I started new hobbies to support it.” He motioned to the fruit trees that were creeping closer on the other side of the stream.

“I thought you did it to pick up women.” Or so you could mock them. He chuckled and shrugged.

“That too.” He chuckled, and his voice lowered. “But it’s mostly something to in the middle of the night.”

“What, like you aren’t busy sleeping with women all night?” I snorted.

He sucked in a breath and his shoulders tensed.

My stomach dropped, and I cringed at myself. You id*ot! He wasn’t being facetious; he’s saying he has nightmares! I made an odd choking sound and wished I could reverse time.

“I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive, I’m such a c*nt, I, uh-“ I clenched my teeth. “Baking sounds like a great hobby!” My words came out too fast, too high pitched. I let out a nervous laugh and fumbled with my hands.

He was silent as we got closer to the stream. Jay stepped into the water, splashing it as he walked. The water was clear, with little pebbles on the bottom of the stream bed. It was knee height, but the water moved fast.

The stream sang and bubbled, light danced on its surface.

I followed him. The water was frigid, burning my skin. I shivered and my toes ached. I stepped out of the stream onto the other side. A breeze brushed against my wet skin, making me shiver.

We walked underneath the fruit trees. The air was filled with the sweet scent of their blossoms. But my stomach twisted in knots, and my throat had a lump in it.

What am I supposed to say? I can’t keep apologizing, that just makes it more tense. I frowned at his sculpted back. Say something, Gwen!

“Your fruit trees look healthy.” My tongue was thick in my mouth, and the words stumbled over one another. Why would you say that? You don’t know anything about fruit trees!

He took a turn and headed further to the right. After all this time and all those comments he’s made, he’s going to give me the silent treatment? For one mistake?

I scowled, and thought of something snippy to say, waiting for anger to burn in my belly. Instead, the knots pulled tighter. I sighed and hunched over. Great. We’re going to walk the rest of the way in silence now.

Jay stopped under a tree. He stood on his tippy toes and reached up, flexing his muscles. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a work of art.

Marble sculptors would’ve begged him to model for them, so they could capture a fraction of his essence. The sun kissed his skin, turning it golden as he raised his arm. He grabbed a branch, pulling it down, and it swayed under his power.

“Care for an orange?”

“What?” My focus was on his rolling back muscles.

“An orange?” He chuckled. He lowered, standing on flat feet again. The tree branch swayed up and down as he released it.

He held an orange over his shoulder, keeping his head forward.

“Oh. Thank you.” I walked up and grabbed it from him.

He snatched my wrist in his hand. Scorching heat went through my hand, up my arm. “You’re not a c*nt.” His voice was rumbly, like he was holding in a growl.

I froze, and he rubbed my wrist with his thumb before releasing me. My mind went blank. My mouth opened and closed as I searched for something to say.

He stood up on his tippy toes again and reached for another orange. His shoulder flexed. His skin had a slight sheen that highlighted his muscles. I gripped the orange, stopping myself from squeezing him.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as he let the branch go and started walking again.

I followed him, and my head spun.

“It was a c*nty thing to say. I’m sorry for that.” I chewed my bottom lip and peeled my orange.

“Stop calling yourself a c*nt. I forgive you.”

My face burned, and relief washed over me. I knew my entire face and chest had to be bright red.

“Alright.” I mumbled. I tossed orange peels to the ground. The fruit was juicy, leaking on my hands. Its sweet citrus scent filled the air. My mouth watered and my stomach growled, and I couldn’t peel the orange fast enough.

I popped a segment in my mouth and chewed. Sweet, sun-warmed juice flowed over my tongue, making me drool. I popped the rest in my mouth, savoring the bright, sweet segments.

I stared at my empty hands. They were covered in orange juice, and before I could stop myself, I sucked the orange juice off all my fingers.

“If I’d known you’d like it so much, I’d have grabbed more.” Jay chuckled in front of me.

“That was the best orange I’ve ever had. I didn’t know they could be so sweet!” I looked back over my shoulder, but the trees were already out of sight. “For someone doing this just to keep themselves busy, you’re d*mn good at it.”

“Thank you. I don’t half-*ss things.” His tone made it sound more like a promise than an answer. “We’re almost at the border.”

Finally! We’ve been walking at least an hour. My legs didn’t mind, but I knew my family would be questioning where I was. The sun was high in the sky, but it was still early. At least I should get to the shop before it opens.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, and soon the sound of crashing water filled the air.

“What is that? It sounds like rapids. I thought you said we were going somewhere easy to cross?”

“This is the best place to cross.”

We walked through the tree line, onto a sandy water line. To our right was a small rocky cliff side that would be easy to climb. A waterfall tumbled over it, spilling into the river. The water was fast, flowing downstream into nearby rapids.

“You’ve got to be kidding. This can’t be the best place to cross.” The sight was beautiful, with lush green trees and blossoming flowers near the water. “Did you bring me here just to show off the view?”

“Can’t both be true?”

We walked closer and the scent of home hit me. Memories flooded back. Of the fight with Bridget. Everything she’d said, about the shop, about me, about our family. My heart pounded in my chest and my stomach lurched, and I sunk to the ground.

I could feel my dad’s arms around me, pinning me to the car, squeezing me. I gasped for breath as I remembered lunging for Bridget. How I’d craved to squeeze her throat, to hear her gasp for air. How much I’d wanted to feel her claw at my hands as I crushed her airway.

I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories kept coming, vivid, filled with sounds of glass shattering, and my dad’s screams.

I could only recall the moments before I’d fallen to the ground. Looking up at the sky. Before she took control.