Page 40 of The Patron Saint of Timber Hollow

With heaving breaths, we pull apart. Saint's lips are parted, eyes glazed over. He looksawestruck. Andthatmakes my chest pinch. I smile at him, then go back to where I was sitting. Saint takes a moment to recover, but then he tucks me into his side, arm around my shoulders. I go willingly, resting my head on his shoulder. I can't help but feel a little…guilty. Will I pull the Pack apart by kissing Saint while I'm with Jay?

Tension lingers in the air, or maybe it's just me who is tense. I feel like a livewire ready to ignite.

Instead of perching on top of Saint again and letting the night lead where it may, I throw monumental effort into relaxing all my muscles one by one. I start at my toes, uncurling them, then my calves, tucked under the blanket. Saint's leg is stretched to the side, invading my space. I could drape my thighs across his, and I doubt he'd mind. And then, I swear he can hear my thoughts because he hooks his arm under my knees, settling my legs across his lap.

Saint's phone pings, and when he unlocks it, I see Angel's name flash across his notification bar with the words "Hey Cutie" next to her name before I force myself to look away and refocus on relaxing.

You have no right to be pissy about that, Artemis.

I start at my jaw this time, unclenching those muscles before taking a deep breath. And then another, and another.

Eventually, I managed to relax, only half watching the movie. I'm paying more attention to my breathing and the storm outside. If it were still the middle of summer, I would run in a storm like this. Andthatis the problem with the cooler months. When you get wet, you get cold. I fuckinghatebeing cold.

My thoughts edy around, and sometimes my attention grabs on the movie, and I chuckle, but it's much rarer compared to how often Saint laughs. Sometimes, he shakes with it, shoulders bouncing enough that I almost feel at risk for a concussion.

I miss the movie's end, the rain tinkling on the window panes, lulling me into deep sleep.

Jay

It is well past midnight when I make it back to the Cabin. Unsurprisingly, Dante goes straight upstairs for a shower when he crosses the house's threshold. The wolf treats showers like a religious experience. It took him an entire month to decide on the showerhead he purchased for his bathroom.

The messages on my phone from Saint tell me they're in the living room. The picture attached to the last message is of my gorgeous girl sleeping peacefully, a small puddle of drool darkening Saint's shoulder.

I find them in the exact positions the photo showed, Artemis dead to the world, drooling on Saint's shoulder.

"Did you have a good day?" I ask my brother, wholly focused on the sleeping beauty next to him. Her legs are half thrown over him, arms curled around his.

"Yeah. I fed her, we watched a movie, and she fell asleep almost immediately." He turns off the TV, setting the remote on the arm of the couch.

"That's all?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure she wanted me to kiss her earlier, but I didn't."

"Why not?" I ask, knowing I probably would have if our positions were switched. Resisting Artemis when I know she wants me is almost impossible.

"Because,"Saint drawls, "she also looked sad."

"Ah." I search for words for a second… reluctant to admit that coachingsomeone—even Saint—on how to get into my girls' good graces sometimes feels strange.

"She kissed me, though," Saint admits smugly.

I chuckle, looking at the sleeping beauty. "Sounds about right." That's how we'd started up again. She kissed me over the bar. "Do you want to come upstairs while I chill before bed? I'm not going to leave her on the couch."

"Sure," Saint replies, uncovering himself while keeping the blanket over Artemis. I scoop her into my arms easily. My brother follows me out of the living room, stretching his shoulders and back as he walks.

Artemis mumbles, "Saint?" after I take a few steps. She must think I'm him, carrying her to bed.

"Don't worry, Gorgeous. He's coming too," I reply into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. She smells like the cool forest air.

Home. She smells like home.My wolf murmurs, ice-blue eyes staring out of the depths of my subconscious.

"Hmm, hi, Handsome." Artemis mumbles, snuggling into my neck. Then she whispers a quiet "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Gorgeous."

She hums, then presses a soft kiss to the underside of my jaw before snuggling deeper into my arms, and I feel it when she drifts back to sleep just as I reach the stairs. Artemis stays asleep the entire way, only stirring again lightly when I place her on our big bed. Saint sits next to Artemis, pulling her head into his lap and combing his fingers through the blonde strands.

I hear her hum once more low in her throat, the sound heating my blood. Instead of rousing her from sleep and having another round with Saint, even if that is what I'd much rather do, I point my thumb over my shoulder to the bathroom, saying, "I'll be right back."