Page 7 of First Love

Chapter Three

Amelia

What was I doing? Followinga random guy to his place for bourbon was pretty much a recipe for finding myself chained up in a mucky basement. I didn’t need to add that to my craptastic day.

But there was something about this guy—Jasper—that radiated goodness and chivalry. He worked at a homeless shelter. That had to be evidence enough that he wasn’t a serial killer.

Unless he worked there to throw the feds off his scent.

I shook my head as I walked beside him. The Universe wouldn’t allow me to survive the slaughter of my entire pack only to deliver me into the hands of a murderer.

At least I didn’t think it would.

“What?” Jasper took a left turn when we arrived at a small intersection.

“Huh?”

“You said something about a murderer.” His eyebrows were raised over deep, dark brown eyes. Eyes I could see my reflection in. Eyes I could get lost in.

“Did I?” I closed my eyes to break the spell connecting with his gaze had woven. “I guess I was wondering if you were one.” Not that I couldn’t defend myself against a human like him. His fit body stood about eight inches taller than mine so I was definitely smaller. My werewolf strength, however, would overpower him with ease. Despite the muscles I’d noted stretching the fabric of his green, long-sleeved T-shirt earlier, he couldn’t win a fight with me. Not when I had claws, teeth, and more brute strength than twenty men combined.

The sound of Jasper’s laughter did something weird to my shoulders. All the tension that had been accumulating there since I’d found my pack dead sifted right out of me. Jasper’s face transformed into something even more fun to look at when he laughed. A light danced in those dark eyes, and his mouth had me transfixed. A well-groomed beard surrounded his full lips and covered his strong jaw. Something inside me whispered that I should rub my cheek against that beard.

But that was silly. Cheek rubbing was a wolf-to-wolf thing. Not a human-to-wolf thing. Mostly because human-to-wolf things didn’t happen. No self-respecting Alpha would allow his wolves to mingle romantically with humans. Lunai, the Moon Goddess, who was in charge of mated wolf pairs would never match human and wolf.

And yet . . . Jasper had me thinking that was a stupid werewolf rule.

“You can relax,” Jasper said. “I haven’t murdered anyone for the thirty years I’ve been on this planet. I don’t have any plans to pick up that hobby now either.” He shot me a smile that made a shiver of something ripple through me. Something I rather liked. Something I hadn’t felt before.

Jasper shrugged out of the flannel jacket he’d slipped on when he’d left the homeless shelter. He draped it over my shoulders, mistaking my shiver for being cold. Werewolves were rarely cold, but I liked the weight of his jacket on my shoulders.

I liked the smell of it too. The smell of him.

“Thanks.” I followed him as he took a right down another street.

We walked in comfortable silence. I scanned the scenery we passed. Moon Valley had all the trimmings of a small town. The burger joint I’d eaten at earlier. A library next to a combined fire and police department building. A post office, bakery, flower shop. All of them had that brick-and-wood charm of a town that had been founded in colonial times.

The truly beautiful part was the backdrop of mountains and woods. They almost reminded me of Montana. Of home.

A home I no longer had.

I guess that did make me homeless. Was that why Jasper was being so kind to me? Did he somehow sense I had nothing and no one like the people he served at the shelter?

But I would have people. I’d have better than people. I’d have wolves. I just had to make it to Monday when Archer Sinclaire returned. He wouldn’t deny a wolf in my situation membership. That wasn’t the werewolf way. Unless packs were rivals, they generally helped each other. Being a werewolf bound us in ways that would work in my favor. My heart would still be broken over what had happened to my pack and guilt would weigh heavily on me, but I could make a fresh start here in Moon Valley. Uncle Noah would want that for me.

If he wasn’t furious with me for failing in my Scouter duties.

I tossed a look up to the darkening sky, hoping Uncle Noah and the rest of the Vanner pack wasn’t glaring down at me.

“Here we are,” Jasper said when we stopped in front of an old warehouse. “Don’t judge it by the outside. I finished the interior, and the exterior is next up on my to-do list.”

I put up my hands. “No judgment. Though the warehouse does give off a murderer vibe.”

“I know, I know.” Jasper did something on his phone and the door we were standing in front of opened on its own. “I was afraid you’d make that connection. We can stop at my neighbor’s and you can ask him if he’s ever seen me toting dead bodies around here.” He motioned to a big field to the right of the warehouse. In the distance, I could make out a small house and huge barn with a couple of horses milling about in the field.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I don’t want to delay getting to the bourbon.”

“Right. We have a shit day to erase for you, don’t we?” He pushed the door open more and gestured for me to enter first.