“Told you.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Three years.”
That was interesting. She’d assumed he’d lived here longer. “That’s not what I would have guessed.”
He shrugged. “It’s nice to be close to family.”
But why had it taken him three years to move up here? He’d been the fire chief for longer than that.
Then it hit her. A new house closer to his brother. A porch swing he never used. He hadn’t built this house for himself.
He’d built it for his fiancée.
And just like that, Jenna had sympathy for him. She didn’t want to feel that way toward him, but there it was.
The longer she was here, the more she grew to like him. To see him as a friend and not a foe.
A hundred feet of distance had never been so close.
Titus was as ready to run as a shifter could be. He itched with the need, especially because he’d come to a hard realization in the kitchen. Being around Jenna so much meant conversation. It was impossible to avoid if they were going to be civil, which he definitely wanted them to be.
But conversation required revealing small parts of himself.
That was a dangerous path. He wasn’t used to talking to anyone about things from his past. Hank and Bridget understood that there were topics better left unspoken. He preferred it that way.
But Jenna didn’t know that unwritten rule. And he was quickly discovering that even harmless conversations had a way of moving into personal territory without warning.
First, she’d asked about the porch swing. Then they’d verged dangerously close when they’d hit upon the subject of dating. Sooner or later, Jenna would probably come right out and ask about Zoe.
Women did that. He knew from Bridget and Birdie just how much they loved to talk about past relationships. If he let them, they’d bring up Zoe at least once a week. Maybe more.
He wanted nothing to do with that. No part of dredging up old history. Old pain. Old reminders about how wrong things had gone.
He was already on edge about that failed relationship, and he worried that if Jenna brought it up, he’d get mad. Not intentionally, but it was definitely a sore spot for him, and he knew it made him snap. He didn’t want to get angry around her, not when they were getting along. It was nice.
He wasn’t even really trying. Just being himself.
Was she trying? Was it hard for her to be nice to him? He hoped not.
But if he snapped, that could change things. Even if he apologized. Should he just tell her now about what happened with Zoe? A preemptive strike, as it were? That way, he could give her the short, easy version, and maybe, hopefully, that would be enough.
But then again, if he brought it up, she might think his past was suddenly on the table as a viable topic. He wanted to shut that down, not open it up.
He thought about calling Birdie for advice, but the second she realized he and Jenna were engaging in civil communication, she’d be all over them like the Velcro matchmaker.
Birdie would be setting up dates for them at the romantic restaurants in town before he could say no. Complete with strolling violinists, if that was an option.
He closed his eyes and sighed. Calling Birdie was out.
Bridget wouldn’t be much better.
That left Hank.
Titus snorted. He already knew what his brother would say. If you don’t want to talk about it, don’t.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to help either.
Unsure which tactic to take, he decided to let things be for now. He’d be in wolf form during the run, so he’d be unable to speak to Jenna anyway, solving the problem temporarily.
“Jenna?”
The guest room door opened, and she came out, sneakers on. She looked adorably sporty. “You ready to run?”
“Yep.” He took a few steps backward toward the deck. “This way.”
“Lead on.”
He turned and went through the house, out onto the deck, then down the stairs to the backyard. The sky was dusky purple and getting darker by the minute. A bright, nearly full moon added a good amount of light, but his eyes didn’t need much.
The rich, loamy scent of the forest filled his nose as he inhaled. His wolf, already anticipating the impending run, panted with eagerness. Titus glanced over at Jenna. “Ready?”
She nodded.
“If you can’t keep up…well, I guess I’ll figure that out by the ache in my gut. If that happens, I’ll slow down.”
“It won’t happen. I’ll keep up.”
“All right, then.” He rolled his shoulders. “Here we go.”
He opened himself up to the change, putting his wolf in charge. The shift was instant, and a moment later he was down on all fours, the earth warm and alive under his paws, the breeze ruffling his fur.
He glanced at Jenna.
The look in her eyes was different. Curious. Her fingers extended toward him ever so slightly. She wanted to touch him.
He whuffed softly, then bent with his front legs stretched out.
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I just want to see what you feel like. Is that okay? If I touch you?”
He whuffed again, keeping his head down.
“If you bite me, I will not forgive you.” She sighed. “You can understand me, right?”
He nodded.
Tentatively, her hand came closer. Then her fingers coasted over the curve of his head.
A little breath of surprise escaped her. “Oh wow. You’re softer than I expected. And this is weird, isn’t it?”
His laugh came out like a sneeze.
She jumped back, then looked embarrassed at her reaction. Her hands clenched and went to her sides. “We should just run.”
With a woof, he straightened, gave her one more look, then charged into the forest. His wolf was in command. He was a creature of instinct and drive. The joy of being able to run and have such freedom took over.
He howled, a short, exuberant burst of sound. Behind him, Jenna’s footfalls were quick
