The Art of Seducing a Naked Werewolf (Naked Werewolf 2)

“Who was wrong?” he asked.

“I was wrong.” I sighed.

He poked my shoulder. “Who was right?”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he told me. “I don’t care what you try to do to push me away. I don’t care what comes along. I’m here. If you think I’m going to back down now, you’re crazy.”

“So, you’re going to love me out of spite?”

“Yes.”

I sighed. “Ah, spite, the stuff of fairy tales.”

14

Wedding Belled

INSTEAD OF ME DRIVING Nick away, he ended up driving me back home, with a truckload of his stuff. He was moving in with Samson, he said, until Samson was back on his feet and we could build a house between Pops’s place and Mom’s. I didn’t even have to ask; he just knew that was what he needed to do. He said he would start calling construction companies as soon as possible, so we could break ground when it thawed.

Oh, and apparently, we were getting married that summer.

Nick didn’t get down on one knee, but he pulled me into his lap and looped a little sapphire pendant around my neck. He reiterated his whole “not going anywhere” plan and told me that if I ever tried to protect him by sending him away again, I would have two fights on my hands—from the perceived danger and from Nick.

“I can’t say we’re always going to be deliriously happy,” he said as his fingers worked the chain’s catch at the nape of my neck. “But we’ll be together, and that’s a lot more than some people have. So, Margaret Faith Graham”—he stopped when I growled at the mention of my middle name—“cut it out, your mom told me—would you please stop being so stubborn and agree to marry the man who will love you until the day he dies?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, fingering the pretty blue stone. I liked the way it sparkled, a quiet sort of shine that seemed to give off deeper flashes of cobalt within. He could have given me the Hope Diamond, and I wouldn’t have been happier. “I will stop jerking you around. It’s not fair to you.”

“And?” he prompted, cupping his hand to his ear.

“Yes, I will marry you.” I sighed, slipping my arms around his neck. Suddenly, I shifted back and poked him in the chest. “But I’m not wearing a froufrou princess dress.”

His eyebrows quirked, and he tilted his head. “I’d be fine with what you’re wearing right now.”

I glanced down at my naked body. “Nice.”

When we got home and told my family our somewhat bizarre proposal tale—minus the nudity—Mo suggested listening to my grand plans in my head to make sure they make sense before I act. I suggested she take a long walk off the nearest cliff. Then, of course, when she and Mom realized we had about five months to plan a wedding, the squealing began.

Oh, my God, the squealing.

Mo got on the phone with Kara, and there was more squealing, in stereo. Kara said she would come over with an armload of bridal planners the next day.

“Wait, wait, we can’t plan a wedding now,” I said, grasping at any straws that kept me away from the words “manipedi.” “Samson just got shot. We have a problem with intruders. Nick and I can just go off to Anchorage one weekend and have a courthouse thing.”

Mo and Mom looked at me as if I’d just suggested shaving baby Eva’s head and piercing her eyebrow.

“I’m happy either way,” Nick said.

“Oh, that’s sweet.” Cooper chuckled. “You think you have a vote.”

“I don’t have a vote?” Nick asked. Cooper handed him a beer, clapped his hand down on Nick’s, and shook his head.

“Your best bet is just to sit back, relax, and wait for the cake.”

Nick frowned. “Do I at least get a vote on the flavor of the cake?”

“No.”