The Real Werewives of Vampire County - By Alexandra Ivy Page 0,100

to sort through what I was hearing, thinking, feeling.

“During a werewolf’s first turning, the wolf instinct can be very strong. Too strong. Joshua was young. He couldn’t control it.” A tear slipped from Jon’s eye. “My wife.” He dropped his face into his cupped hands. Didn’t speak for a long time. I didn’t know what to say. “She wouldn’t have wanted me to turn Josh in, knowing what would happen to him. I knew, too. We couldn’t... . I couldn’t... .”

“He’s a werewolf.”

Jon nodded.

“You, too?”

“No.” Jon’s eyes found mine. “You’ve always called me Dracula—”

“It was a joke.”

“Maybe to you, but it was closer to the truth than you realized.”

I staggered to my feet. Stunned. Too overwhelmed and shocked to think straight. But I knew one thing. I was hurt. Deeply. Jon hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth. About himself. His son. His wife. Not even his neighbors.

“Are you leaving?” he asked as I headed toward the foyer.

“I don’t know yet. I need some time to think.”

“If it makes any difference, I do trust you, Chrissy. That’s why I told you the truth.”

A tear dribbled down my cheek. I sniffled, dragged my hand across my face. “It sure took you a long time, though.”

He rose to his feet and slowly walked toward me. “You’re right. But am I the only one who was afraid to trust, Chrissy? Or were you putting up a few walls, too?”

“What are you talking about?”

He gave me a pointed look.

Shoot, he was right.

I fell right into defense mode. “But if you hadn’t given me a reason to be distrustful—”

“Chrissy, the first day you were talking about safety nets.”

I was. I had. Shit. How could I have been so insensitive?

“Jon, I’m sorry—”

“I love you,” he said, interrupting me. “I want you to be a part of every aspect of my life. The dark and the light.” Closing the distance between us, he clasped my upper arms in his fists and searched my eyes. I don’t know what he saw, but it couldn’t have been what he’d been hoping for. “You have to be willing to trust me. Do you want to? Are you capable of trusting anyone? Or do you need to jump off the high wire now and let your safety net catch you?”

I didn’t know how to answer him.

He released my arms and I breathed easier. And yet I felt worse. Cut off from him. As if I’d lost him already, despite his words. And, oh God, how awful that hurt. Like a red-hot blade plunged into my gut.

This man had grieved the death of a wife and still fiercely protected the child who’d killed her.

This man had gone out of his way to make me feel at home, welcomed.

This man had silently endured my distrust since the day I’d moved in, waiting patiently for me to decide whether or not I could trust him.

What the hell was I doing? How could I even think to leave this man?

Eyes burning, I flung myself at him. He caught me, just like I knew he would, and pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace. “I’m so sorry,” I said to his chest. “You’re right. I was basically sabotaging our relationship from the minute I stepped out of that truck. It’s a wonder you didn’t throw me out then.”

“I couldn’t do that. I need you too much. You’re my safety net.” He stroked my hair, cupped my chin, and lifted it until our gazes met. “Tell me you love me.” His eyes were pleading.

“You’re my safety net, too. I love you, Dracula.”

“Oh yes. Chrissy.” He kissed me and I kissed him back. He would never again doubt how I felt about him. Never. Vampire or just a guy who works some crazy hours, this man was my dream man. Mr. Perfect. I was going to do everything in my power to be his Mrs. Perfect.

On Halloween, I received a very special gift—the ring, and the proposal that I’d been waiting for. Of course, I very happily accepted both. I’d found a home, a future, a family. Here. In Jonathan Stewart’s arms. In his house. In his town.

Not to mention, a very dedicated, well-dressed, wonderfully goofy Pack of friends to dance with in the moonlight.

As the old saying goes, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. That was never more true than on Lancaster Street. Samantha Phillips was jealous of Lindsay Baker’s freedom. Lindsay Baker envied Erica Ross’s lifestyle—the cars, the clothes,