Blue moon - By Lori Handeland Page 0,74

"You do. So what?"

Silence fell over us both. We stared at each other as what we'd said hung between us. Then I laughed, and he laughed with me. It felt good.

I went into his arms and just held him while he held me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd hugged a guy for more than a minute. I'd never missed it, either. But I would now. Cadotte gave very good hug.

"Come back to my place," he murmured. "Sleep with me. Stay with me."

He kissed my brow and I snuggled closer, held on tighter.

I'd never felt like this. Too bad I wasn't sure what this was. I liked him a lot. I wanted to be with him too much. I wanted to say yes, to anything, everything. Where William Cadotte was concerned I had no control. And it scared me.

Nevertheless, I went home with him. It was the best damn day I ever had. Which worked out well, since everything went to hell soon after.
Chapter 31
Cadotte drove my car. I kept having visions of being stopped by one of my co-workers and trying to explain why the driver was naked and I was near enough. I wore a long T-shirt that just covered my cheeks, but no underwear. If someone saw me like this I'd never live it down.

But he was a careful driver, and we reached the end of the dirt trail that led to his cabin without incident.

He parked my car next to his, a Jeep, and we set off toward the house.

I'd never been inside his place, only looked in the front window like a voyeur. I'd forgotten that occasion until I followed him inside and got another scare from the wolf hanging in the hall.

"What's with that?" I asked.

He didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd display dead things on the wall.

"Gift from a friend."

Now that I could see more closely, the wolf's head was a hat and the skin a cape. I'd seen pictures of men wearing them at powwows and such. People wore all sorts of interesting things when they danced in ceremonies.

"Do you use this?" I asked, thinking it must have something to do with the wolf clan.

"No. That's a Plains tribe affectation. The Navajo believe a witch becomes a werewolf by donning a wolf skin." Cadotte nodded toward the one on his wall. "Like this."

"Believe? As in present tense?"

"Yes. Or at least some of them do."

"Like your friend?"

"Maybe."

"What about you?"

"I believe in werewolves. But I've tried on that skin and I was still me - wearing the head of a wolf."

He continued into the main part of the house, leaving me to stand alone in the haB or join him. Since the wolf skin creeped me out more than it should, I hurried after.

Cadotte wasn't in the living room. Or the kitchen, which I could see from where I stood. The place was cleaner than I'd expect for a guy who lived alone, but not neat by any means. Papers and books were strewn over every fiat surface, and the paraphernalia of life was stacked in the corners and behind the furniture.

I let my gaze wander over his stuff, then around the room. Wood shutters graced every window. Huh. I'd seen storm shutters attached to the outside of a cabin. I wondered why he had them on the inside, too.

Must be better insulation.

A door to the left stood open, so I went in. He was already in bed.

I raised a brow. "In a hurry?"

"I thought you were tired."

Seeing him there with the sheet pooled at his hips, chest all bare and beautiful, I wasn't so tired anymore.

I dropped my bag, lost the shirt, and crawled in beside him. But when I ran my hand up his thigh, he put his over mine.

"I promised we'd sleep."

"I didn't."

He tugged my head onto his shoulder. "Rest, honey. Let me hold you awhile."

I jolted at the endearment. "You know, if any other guy called me ' honey,'he'd be having his teeth for lunch."

"I guess I'm not just any guy."

"I guess you're not."

His lips brushed my hair. "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't let it go to your head."

"I won't."

Fingertips trailed along my spine, gentle, light, a relaxing touch that made my eyes drift closed. But I didn't fall asleep. There was something I had to ask.

"The night we met, you had a bruise on your hip."

"I get a lot of bruises."

"You do? Why?"

"I'm kind of a klutz, or I