Rome eyed her much as she’d seen her father do when she said something he found ridiculous. “Of course he is, Will. You’re a beautiful young lady. What man wouldn’t be?”
“But not you.” It was more statement than question.
Rome looked horrified. “God, no!” He all but shouted the denial, then followed it up with a wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just. You’re like the kid sister I never had. I feel protective of you but not, uh...”
Willow held up a hand to forestall his stammering, smiling with amusement at his obvious discomfort. “I got it, Rome and I understand. And the feeling’s mutual. Only, you’re the big brother I never had.”
His shoulders eased, lips twisting in a wry smile. “That’s a relief. I’d had to be thought of as a younger sister.”
Willow laughed at him and they bid goodnight. As she sat there, mulling over the evening, she heard the shower kick on. It motivated her to unpack, setting out warm pajamas for the evening; folding underwear, sweats, and jeans into the dresser; hanging a few times on the thick plastic hangers she found in the closet.
They could be in Woodcliff anywhere from a week to a month, Willow knew, and while she was desperately homesick for her father and sister, her curiosity had been firmly piqued by the people she met tonight. Most especially Ben.
Finished unpacking, Willow scanned the room. She was still too wound up to sleep, no matter how exhausted she felt. With the shower still running—what was Rome doing in there, anyway?—Willow put her coat back on and made her way to the kitchen, and to the back door she’d spied earlier. She opened it and peeked outside, only to discover in delight the large deck, complete with roof, wood table, and four cushioned chairs. One quick look over her shoulder and she squeezed out the small opening she made in the doorway in an attempt to keep the cold out.
Walking to a break in the railing, she stood at the top of the steps, crossing her arms over herself and staring out into the night. She couldn’t see the cabins on either side of her from her position, but she knew they were there. It comforted her, the knowledge that Ben was probably in one of them, partaking of Kaylie’s care package. Or maybe he was sitting in his trunk, drinking coffee.
An owl hooted, and she jumped again—then grinned at herself. “I come in peace,” she told the owl, her head lifted high, her words no more than a caress on the wind. “I mean you no harm.”
A flash of color caught her eye and she jerked her attention to the ground. It was the glow that made her suck in a breath. The glow of amber eyes set in the large, proud face of a wolf, its fur unlike anything she’d seen before. A dark tan, with hints of brown and bronze that shimmered under the bright circle of a winter moon. The animal sat not five feet from the bottom of the stairs, those amazing eyes never straying as it eyed her with the predatory inclination of its kind.
Willow knew she should be terrified, and a small part of her was. However, a larger part kept her feet still. The wolf wasn’t growling and he didn’t appear thin or mangy. In fact, he looked to be a very healthy creature. The way it sat there, watching her every breath, made her wonder just how intelligent it was.
Fascinated by it’s seemingly benign interest she thought, no wonder Rome asked if I was afraid of wolves.
“Aren’t you a handsome one?” she dared to whisper aloud. The wolf cocked its head, opening its jaw a fraction, almost as if it was grinning at her appraisal. “Bet you drive all the girl wolves crazy.” Though she didn’t know for sure the animal was a male, he simply seemed too imposing, to big to be anything but. Now the wolf shook its head, as if denying her statement.
How odd, Willow thought, drawing her brows together. “Can you understand me?”
The wolf didn’t move and Willow shook her head at her fanciful thoughts. “Of course you don’t.”
The door opened behind her and Rome stepped out. “What are you doing out here?” The wolf hunched down, a growl emanating from its throat.
Not daring to turn her back, Willow said out the corner of her mouth, “I don’t think he likes you.”
Rome stood at Willow’s side. “Who? Oh.” Not at all surprised, awed, or even wary that a huge wild animal with sharp teeth and claws growled not far from his tender flesh, Rome shrugged a shoulder. “He can dislike me all he wants as long as he knows where his place is. Outside.”
The wolf rose swiftly to his paws and Willow stumbled back, startled at the abrupt move. Then it turned, swishing its thick, fluffy tail in the air, and looped off into the forest. If Willow didn’t know better, she would have sworn that tail wave was the equivalent of a middle finger salute.