Curves for the Werewolf Cowboy (Paranormal BBW Erotic Romance, Alpha Wolf Mate) Read Free Page B

self-conscious and shy. I caught myself and tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe if I acted like I was unimpressed I would seem more nonchalant.
    “How do you like it? You know, running a company and all?” I asked, stirring my drink before taking a small sip.
    “Well, it’s alright. Truthfully, I didn’t really have a choice. It was my father’s business and after he passed away, my brothers and I inherited it. I’m the oldest of the group, the leader in a sense. So the responsibilities fell to me.”
    “How many brothers do you have?”
    “I’ve got five.”
    I nearly spit out the sip I’d just taken. This piece of news was just as surprising about the details of his occupation.
    “Wow, that’s crazy. I can’t even imagine that, being part of a family that big. I grew up an only child.”
    “It was great, a lot of happiness, a lot of security. I trust my brothers with my life. And I know they feel the same about me.”
    “That sounds nice,” I said.
    I sat there, stirring the straw in my glass, not really knowing what to say after that. A strange calm had descended on the table when Clay spoke. There was a passion in his voice, strong yet subdued, when he talked about his brothers. Maybe this was how most people felt about their siblings, but it just seemed strange to me having been an only child. I never had a connection like that. I never felt like I was really part of anything. My thoughts were moving in a strange direction, I thought. I did my best to move my mind back to Clay and the conversation at hand.

~ Clay ~
    She’s sitting here smiling at me, nodding her head at all the right times. In a certain sense, she’s listening, participating in the conversation. But I can tell her mind’s wandering. She never had siblings, she told me that much. But there’s more: she never had a happy home life in general. She’s never felt safe, always on her guard.
    She’s afraid to let someone close. There was someone in her past who hurt her, so she’s reluctant to put herself out there. She knows most men aren’t good enough for her, but she’s also insecure. She thinks she’s not good enough for most men, either.
    Right now she’s wondering why I’m here with her, wondering why I asked her out. She thinks she’s not good enough for me. She’s cataloging her flaws as we speak, weighing the pros and cons of her being. She thinks it’s not adding up. She thinks I’m too good for her. She wants me, but she’s afraid to want me. Part of her is afraid of me. She doesn’t know why. But I know why.
    I could tell her this minute that I want her. I could tell her why. I could speak of my insatiable urge, how the moment I stepped foot in Houston I began to sense her presence. I could tell her that this strange force led me to her bar, that I was incurably attracted to her, that her scent drove me mad, that the sight of her played games with my sanity.
    But if I told her this right now she’d run out of the restaurant screaming. If she’s scared of me now, how crazy would I sound if I told her the truth of my existence? No, it’s better to wait. Hard as it is, I have to bide my time and wait for that one moment. She has to trust me first.

~ Amber ~
    The plates came out hot, the steaks cooked medium rare. A bottle of wine was brought over. I stole a glance at the drink menu. Had Clay really just paid three hundred dollars for a bottle of wine? This better be the best wine I’ve ever had, I thought. The waiter poured us each a glass and we clinked our glasses together.
    The wine didn’t disappoint. And neither did Clay. I found myself more enthralled with each word he spoke. He was so down to earth despite everything, and I don’t know if it was the wine or just him, but my nerves started to ease. All the anxiety and apprehension drifted away and I finally felt comfortable being myself. Sure, I still wanted to impress, but Clay was easy to talk to. We shared the same sense of humor.