Unraveling Midnight. Stephanie Beck
his expression to passivity and concentration. Beside him, Jessie looked on intently, her innocent concern for his knitting skills helping him rein in his libido. It had been years since he’d wanted a woman. He’d wanted Tiffany, because she was his mate and they were monogamous. She was the only option.
However, after Jessie was born, being sexual with Tiffany had become a last resort when his freaking horny werewolf would take over and finally give in to the temptation she presented. Such a crazy bitch. If he’d met Lucy first, he would never have looked twice at Tiffany. And after Tiffany, he could truly appreciate the peace of Lucy, but being burned so brutally also made him cautious.
“There, you got it,” the woman playing hell on his body said. “Now, take it all off and try again.”
“Practice will help,” Jessie added. “Miss Lucy, can you help me start my second row?”
“Sure, Jessie. Let me sit between you and your dad so I can help you both for a few minutes before helping the others.”
Taking off the stitches sounded like a horrible idea, but Scott did it anyway, clumsily fussing with the yarn again until, uneven and ugly, it was back on the stick. Lucy helped Jessie, like he’d wanted, and left him to his stumbling.
The teaching moment gave him more time to stare and smell her. No viciousness, no jealousy or discontent. He took a deep breath and bit back a sigh of contentment that would have filled the room. Better than having her beside him was being in her space. Even with the other humans and their muddled fragrances, the essence of Lucy surrounded him. The yarn must have absorbed pieces of her just being in her presence. Lucky yarn and buttons and doodads.
“Well, it’s a good start.”
Scott smiled when he found Lucy looking at his work. He could have tried harder, he was sure, but she didn’t know him well enough to know that.
“Jessie will help you,” Lucy added.
“I’m thinking this might take a few more classes,” he admitted.
She smiled. “You’re in luck, we have them every week. I need to go help Susan and her mother. You two keep casting on.”
When Scott led Jessie out of the yarn shop an hour later, he did so with heavy feet. His body didn’t want to leave, his wolf sure as hell didn’t want to leave, but it was time to pick up the boys from football. Usually werewolves didn’t play school sports. Since they were still young and had a few years before their change, he thought it was safe. Their coach liked their intensity and there hadn’t been any problems yet.
“That was fun, Daddy. Can we go again next week?”
“Absolutely. I’ll even practice so I can get to the next row thing.”
She patted his hand. “It’s okay, Daddy. Miss Lucy said you’d learn quickly once you got the hang of your tension. Tension can’t really be taught, it has to be practiced.”
Already quoting from the woman. That made sense, though. Lucy was the kind of woman Jessie had been missing in her life. A good teacher was a valuable thing and he’d happily pay the small fee for knitting class as long as Jessie wanted to go. He also wouldn’t mind seeing Lucy again. Finding a new mate hadn’t crossed his mind, not until he’d stepped into Lucy’s shop and he was slammed in the groin with lust. Exploring what could be with the pretty shop owner might be something he could make time to do.
“Can I maybe buy some of my own yarn next time?” Jessie asked. “Some of the stuff in there is really pretty.”
“You bet, darling.”
“And I don’t want the boys to get it either,” she said. “Can you tell them not to use it like a bunch of cats?”
Scott laughed, thoughts of Lucy evaporating. “You got it, sweetheart. I’ll talk to the boys especially about this. No cat-play with your new yarn.”
She hugged his side before they made it to the truck. “Thanks, Daddy. You’re the best.”
* * * *
With ‘best’ in mind, Scott stopped by the yarn shop the next afternoon. He usually had an hour between finishing work and picking up the kids from summer school. He used the time for grocery shopping and running errands. After the knitting class, while Jessie was in the shower, Ross had gotten into Jessie’s yarn before Scott had a chance to warn him away from the stash.
His little girl had cried when the simple cotton yarn proved tangled beyond repair. Ross had tried his hardest to put it to rights, but like any young wolf, he’d gotten carried away the first time and it hadn’t been possible.
So now, with Ross’s allowance in his pocket, Scott was going to get Jessie new yarn and help his son make amends. His rambunctious boys loved their sister and went out of their way to make her happy.
“Well, hello there, Scott.”
He’d scented her the moment he walked in and noticed her footsteps as well, but hearing her acknowledge him with such pleasure in her voice was a beautiful thing. He wanted to lay down with his head in her lap and have her scratch his sweet spot, right behind his ear. Or rub his belly. He wasn’t too proud for a damn belly rub, not if he could have it from Lucy. Of course, the rubbing would be mutual.
Lucy came from behind a shelf full of yarn, looking as cute and cozy as the night before. “Scott? Are you okay?”
He was staring. “Ah, yeah. How are you today?”
The honey scent he’d been swamped in when he entered was replaced by a sadness so intense he felt weak. It was so pure. Not bitter or selfish, just completely sad.
“I’m okay,” she replied, though her smile appeared strained. “Can I help you with something?”
He closed the distance between them. The night before she’d been on his mind. Her laughter, her smile, the charming cluster of freckles on the swell of her left breast. Those things had kept him awake long after he should have been asleep. Seeing her smiling face had been his mission of the day, but a new job was presented.
He stepped closer and though he knew he probably crowded her, he had to do something about the way she felt. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
She didn’t step away and part of him rejoiced even as his wolf was still upset over her being so unhappy.
“Well, I’m sorry it’s so obvious. I’m not really that upset, but today is sort of a sad one for me.” She stopped.
“Why?”
“Um.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, hesitating a long moment. “Today is an anniversary for me. Three years ago today my husband was killed.”
“Husband?”
“Yeah. He was my high school sweetheart. Brad went into the military right after we graduated. We got married before he left to make things easier and we were very happy together. He was gone a lot. I was in business school and we wrote each other all the time. He was deployed to Afghanistan and…he didn’t come back. Well, he came back, but it wasn’t the way I’d hoped.”
She wasn’t crying, hadn’t shed a tear, yet her sorrow was palpable to him. When his arms reached toward her of their own accord, he let them, engulfing her in a hug. He hadn’t grown up in a demonstrative family, but werewolves were affectionate by nature. They needed to feel accepted and protected. He knew things in the human world weren’t always the same, but down to his toes he thought Lucy would appreciate the hug for what it was—comfort when there simply were no words to soothe the pain.
Her arms looped around his waist and, like she was as comfortable with him as he was with her, she rested her cheek against his chest. “Oh, it was several years ago now, Scott. I appreciate the hug very much, but I’m really okay. It’s the kind of sad that comes and goes, but is more nostalgic than anything else.”
“It still hurts you,” he muttered, breathing in the clean