How to Run with a Naked Werewolf (Naked Werewolf 3)

“How?” he exclaimed. I shushed him. “How did you know?” He sat heavily on the bed, stared at me for a long moment, and then groaned. “The night I was shot. Did I say something?”

I shook my head, but my continued silence seemed to make him chatty. “I just, uh, put some things together. You’re not the first werewolf I’ve met.”

“It’s not a big deal, really. I don’t hurt anybody. I don’t freak out under the light of the full moon. It’s just a genetic condition, you know, like color blindness or being born with an extra toe. Just, you know, furrier.”

I stared at him, suddenly blank-faced. That was the saddest description of werewolf-dom I’d ever heard.

“So how do you know about us?”

I sighed. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“I can’t actually promise that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I won’t phase or yell or anything.”

I leveled a doubtful look at him.

He nodded and walked to a corner, the farthest point in the room away from me. “OK, hit me.”

“I’ve been working with werewolves for years. I was the pack doctor for your family in the valley for the past four years. I worked under the name Anna Moder.” The words ran out of my mouth so quickly I was surprised he managed to pick up on what I’d said. But I could tell it had registered by the shocked expression on his face.

“The cute little pack doctor Maggie was always going on about?”

I nodded.

He sighed and then burst out laughing. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through trying to cover for my little issue? Do you know how hard it is for one of us to go this long without phasing regularly?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing. Because antagonizing a naked werewolf seemed counterintuitive. “I didn’t want to freak you out, and I didn’t know if I could trust you at first. And after that, it seemed a little late to tell you the truth, and I panicked, and here we are. Also, it was sort of funny to see how far you would go to try to conceal your wolfy tendencies.”

“So you know about everything?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not everything but most things. I treated Samson for a lot of different bramble- and bear-related injuries.”

He shuddered. “But you know my whole family?”

I nodded.

“And you’ve probably heard a few stories.”

I nodded again.

“You know about the incident with the moose, huh?”

My eyebrows arched. “Uh, no.”

“Never mind.”

I pushed myself to my feet and gestured to the bed. “Can we get off the floor now that all our cards are on the table?”

He practically dived across the room and under the covers, fluffing them into a strange, nestlike configuration around him. He lifted the corner to let me crawl in next to him. Leaning against the headboard, he pulled me against his chest. He pushed my tangled hair back from my face. “So you’re a doctor?”

“Mostly emergency medicine, but then I transferred to more of a family practice a few years ago. I had to leave that job for, uh, personal reasons.”

“I know,” he muttered. When I shot him a confused look, he added, “It’s just a surprise, that’s all. I thought we were on a more even playing field.”

“I’m still the same person. I just have a couple extra pieces of paper you didn’t know about.”

“But you must have made a lot of money before, been comfortable. Why are you living in cheap motels and working in grocery stores?” he asked.

“I did make decent money early on in my medical career. I was very comfortable. And I can honestly tell you I have never been so miserable in my life. Living up here works better for me.”