Page 7 of Small Town Girl
I huff a laugh. “I don’t know. Chad’s handsome and all, but personally, I think you can do better, Porshetta. No offense, Chad.”
Nollaig smiles and takes my hand. “Not with Chad—that would be like you or me falling in love with a pet. Chad’s not a normal pig, but he’s not quite on the same level as Porshetta and Frigg. Porshetta and Frigg, they’re…” she pauses as if she’s searching for the right word. “They’re incredibly special.”
She smiles as she speaks, and I can’t take my eyes off her. My eyes meet hers, and for a moment, all I can do is stare. The pigs are forgotten as my brain leaps ahead. Suddenly, the anticipation is killing me.
“So,” Nollaig says, after a long moment.
“So,” I repeat because I’m an idiot.
She clears her throat. “You said you didn’t live too far?”
God, what is wrong with me?It’s like I’m suddenly a college kid trying to get a girl to come home with me from a frat party. I clear my throat. “We can actually walk to it from here. I live in an RV. It’s not much, but it’s just me and my cat.”
She threads her fingers through mine and smiles. “You have a cat? Forgive me for stereotyping, but werewolves and cats don’t seem like they go together.”
I shrug. “Chewpawca is an old man. You’ll like him.”
She laughs. “Chewpawca? Like that bigfoot thing?”
I laugh. “Don’t let Chewpawca hear you say that. You’ll see why we named him that after you meet him.”
I lead her around the back of the building and to the woods just behind the Wild Hare. She has to be the most trusting or most naive woman I’ve ever met, because she says nothing as I guide her down the path that leads to my RV in the woods. As we step into the clearing I made for my little trailer, she lets go of my hand and spins in a small circle as her skirt floats around her ankles.
Spring is so close, but the nights are still chilly. It doesn’t seem to phase Nollaig at all. She takes a deep breath and looks up. “Oooh, you can see Orion from here,” she says. “See, there’s his belt.” I glance to where she’s pointing, then back at her. She looks like a goddess in the moonlight, her joy at the stars andthe simple little clearing lighting up her face. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “What?”
I shake my head and look down. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
I unlock the door and hold it open for her, but Nollaig pauses and makes one more spin. “Is all this land yours?”
“It’s the pack’s.”
“It’s wonderful. I love it.”
The little overgrown wooded area never seemed like much to me, but Nollaig's appreciation seems genuine. She steps up into the RV and squeals with excitement at the sight of the ancient fluffy cat that comes to greet her.
“You didn’t tell me he was such a distinguished gentleman,” she says, running a hand along Chewpawca’s furry back.
“He’s not. He likes to throw up on the bedroom rug right where my feet land when I get out of bed and scream for breakfast at six a.m. sharp.”
“You’re a good kitty, aren’t you, Chewpawca?” She baby-talks to him, ignoring my complaints. Chewpawca puts up with it for a few minutes beforerunning off to lie on the small couch.
“So, uh, can I get you anything?”
Her eyes lock on mine. “I already stole your dinner and made you buy me drinks.”
“You didn’t make me. I offered.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not usually this needy. I’m the one who takes care of things.”
I hold out a hand to her. “It doesn’t hurt to let someone take care of you every now and again.”
She takes my hand and lets me pull her to me.
“What would you take care of, Zander?” she asks as she leans against me.
“Everything,” I answer truthfully, leaning closer, dying to taste her mouth. Our lips are so close, but she pauses for a moment, and her expression changes ever so slightly.
“You would, wouldn’t you?”