The Wolf in Sheep's Skin

Chapter 40

Gwen

The past few days had been a blur. The shop was insanely busy after Genevieve came in, with appointments for fittings going out to the next month. I’d had to stop allowing custom dress orders just to make sure I could get through all the alterations in time.

The shop had finally closed today, and Quinn and I were finishing cleaning the store while Maeve was upstairs, getting ready for a date. Quinn was in the back room, while I was in the bigger fitting room.

I rearranged some magazines, laying things out neatly so they’d be ready in the morning. Something metal knocked around the backroom where Quinn was, and her footsteps came towards me.

She hurried into the room, and sunk into one of the little white chairs, sighing.

“I don’t remember the shop ever being this busy.” She rubbed her forehead. Quinn had been at the counter all day, helping check customers out while I did fittings and Maeve ran the floor.

“I can’t either. At least we don’t have to worry about the shop going out of business now.” We’ve earned enough to cover the next few months from the past four days’ sales. I smiled at her, and stood up, putting my hands on my hips.

“It was a pretty good idea, asking Eleanor to wear that dress.” She chuckled and rubbed her face. “Maybe too good of an idea.”

“Don’t talk like that. I’ll take all the business I can get.” I waved a finger at her, raising my brow. “Things will die down eventually, after all the hype. Go to a normal level of busy.”

“If not, you’ll have to hire a few more employees.” Quinn grimaced.

“I know. I’m lucky you’re off school for the week.” We locked eyes and she gave me a nervous smile. “You don’t have to stay, you know. You can be at home, we can manage.” I said, lowering my voice, looking her over.

Her school, which was only for werewolf kids, had given her the week before and after her birthday off. Typical practice, since some wolves became erratic or had mood swings before their first shift.

If she’s feeling anything like I did before my sixteenth birthday, I can’t imagine her really wanting to be here. I shivered at the thought of the week before my seventeenth birthday. How painful it had been, trying to control Lilith.

“I don’t know what everyone’s gone on about, I feel fine.” She shrugged. “There’s no where else I’d rather be.”

I couldn’t smell if she was telling the truth; I wasn’t old enough to learn the skill. But I knew by the nonchalance of her voice that she was telling the truth. She should have an easy shift then.

“Well, if things change, let me know.” I squinted at her, trying to make myself clear. She pursed her lips and nodded, sighing.

“Can I try it on when we get home?” Quinn perked up, beaming at me.

“It’s no different from when you tried it on last night!” I snorted out a laugh and rolled my eyes, giving her a playful smile. I’d been keeping her gown at home, working on it late into the night. I was almost done with the beading, making it nearly finished.

“But it’s so pretty! I could just lounge in it.” Quinn leaned back, sprawled out like some fancy woman about to be painted.

“The more time you wear it, the less time I have to work on it.” I crossed my arms and frowned, looking down at her. But I couldn’t pretend to be angry, and my lips curled into a smile.

A knock on the front door made me jump. Quinn gave me a wary look, and Maeve stomped around faster upstairs.

“That must be Maeve’s date.” I said, and Quinn gave me a big grin.

I went out into the front room, leaving Quinn behind. A man was outside the door, holding a big bouquet of pink roses and a gift box with a bow. He was in clean, but casual clothing. Not what I’d guess he’d wear, considering how long Maeve had been getting ready upstairs. He smiled at me and gave me a little wave while struggling to hold both items.

“Maeve, your dates here!” I shouted. I went to the door, and her footsteps raced across the floor. I unlocked the front door and let the man in. “You can set those on the counter.”

He nodded and did as I said. The dressing room door opened, and Quinn popped out.

“Oh, those are pretty! I’m jealous!”

The man set the flowers and box on the counter and rubbed his hands on his pants.

“Maeve will be down in just a minute.” I smiled at him, and she stomped around upstairs. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he fumbled with his hands. He cleared his throat, and his eyes darted from me to the stairs. They’re never this nervous! He must really like her, how sweet.

“They’re uh, actually, for a Gwendolyn.” His voice was shaky as he looked me up and down.

My mind went blank, and I blinked at the flowers.

The little bell above the door rang, and the door slammed shut. I turned just in time to see the man running down the street like his life depended on it. He went out of view as Maeve came down the stairs.

“Those are for you?” She asked, pointing at the flowers. I stared at them, letting out an odd choking sound.

I’d never received flowers before. The bouquet was massive; the roses were a soft, dainty pink. The box looked expensive, with a crisp, elegant design on it. A matching pink silk bow was wrapped around it.

“I don’t think so…”

It was only a kiss. He can’t be that serious, can he?

My stomach dropped, slithering into a tangle of knots. I watched the flowers like they’d reach out and bite me.

“There’s a little note in the flowers! Read it!” Quinn squealed next to me, pointing to a white piece of paper sticking out of the bouquet.

My hands were shaky, and my heart was in my throat. I plucked the note out of the bouquet. The paper was heavy, with a nice satiny feel. ‘Gwendolyn’ was written on the front in beautiful scrawling letters. My heart pounded against my chest as I traced my finger over his writing.

Don’t open it. You’re not talking to him anymore. Throw it away.

But I tore open the note before I could stop myself.

In her, a rose with petals soft,

A sight that stirs, my heart aloft.

Yet in her thorns, a tempting tease,

A whispering dance, a sweet unease.

With every glance, a secret play,

A sultry allure, in shadows' sway.

In her, I find both heat and flame,

A tantalizing, thrilling game.

So here I pen these words, so sweet,

To taste her nectar, lips to meet.

For in her presence, I am ensnared,

By the rose with thorns, so beautifully paired.

My cheeks burned as I read the last line. He really wrote this for me? I rubbed my finger across his beautiful handwriting. My stomach ached, deep inside. Like a hole had grown where it once was, vast and empty.

What’ve I done?

My hands shook as I stared at the fine paper, thinking of our kiss. My lips tingled, and warmth spread over my skin. But it burned, aching, making the ugly hole in my stomach grow.

I left afterwards. Ran away. I haven’t seen him since, I thought he understood. Saliva collected in my mouth, and I struggled to swallow it. Like my throat was closing, my tongue growing too big.

My ears rang as I stared at the little note. His handwriting was eloquent. I kept rereading lines, wanting to be angry at them. Knowing he was taunting me, like always. But it made butterflies flutter in my stomach.

Butterflies that threatened to come up, spewing all over the floor.

“This is from the man who came to the barbecue? What did you do to him?” Maeve said, snapping me out of my trance. I swiveled to her, finding her next to me, reading the poem over my shoulder.

“I didn’t do anything to him!” I shouted too loud, folding the poem too quickly, out of her sight. My cheeks warmed, and she raised her brows at me.

“Right… cause men just go around handing out poems.” She tilted her head and put her hands on her hips. I stammered, unable to think of a response.

“I want to read it!” Quinn shouted and snatched the paper out of my hands. I froze, watching the paper, stopping myself from grabbing it out of her grubby hands.

“You get poems all the time. It’s nothing special.” My voice shook as I glared at Maeve. Quinn’s mouth moved as she silently read the poem, her face lighting up the further she read.

“Sure, but I do things for my poems.” Maeve gave me a sly smile.

My face burned red hot, and I stuttered.

“I thought you said you two aren’t together. ‘To taste her nectar, lips to meet.’ That’s specific.” Quinn giggled. She and Maeve exchanged a glanced and gave me a knowing look. My cheeks down to my chest burned.

“It was only a kiss!” I shouted, shrugging.

“You got all this for a kiss?” Maeve blinked at me, pointing at the flowers and gift box. “Must’ve been a pretty good one.” She pursed her lips, and her eyes had a playful glint.

“It wasn’t! I mean, it was, but it was nothing!” I stumbled over my words, glancing at both of them. They raised their brows and giggled. “It doesn’t matter! It’s not happening again!”

“Right. And what’s your plan for when he comes here to see you? Cause you’re giving melt-in-his-arms vibes.” Maeve waved a finger at me and grimaced. I flapped my mouth open and closed.

“I’m absolutely not doing that!” I shouted, but it turned into an odd growl. It boomed across the room, making them flinch. They looked at me with wide, fearful eyes.

“Whoa… I... I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that. What happened? Are you alright?” Maeve asked in a soft voice. She watched me like I was some animal about to attack.

“I’m sorry, I…” I sighed, unclenching my hands, and forcing my muscles to relax. I tried to think of what to say. But the thought of saying it out loud was like a knife stabbing into my heart. “We can’t be together. That’s all.”

My shoulders slumped and I glanced at the flowers. They were perfect. Pretty and pink, light and fluffy. He’d gotten a massive bouquet, and it took all my self-control not to shove my face in it and smell them.

“Did he do something to you?” Maeve asked in a hushed, concerned voice. She leaned in, her eyes full of worry.

“No. Nothing like that.” I shook my head.