Page 7 of Midlife Animal Rescuer Wolf

“Touché.”

“I got lost.”

She wasn’t sure whether it was wise to divulge that information to a complete stranger, especially one she’d seen transform from a wolf. But this wasn’t exactly a Red Riding Hood situation, was it? This man was injured. From the look of things, she doubted he’d be able to make it out of here without some help. “There’s someone after me.”

His brows rose then. “Who?”

“My ex-boyfriend.” She decided to spin his question on him. “How come you’re in the woods? Hunting a snack?”

To her surprise, he looked offended by her remark. He pulled his foot off her lap, his whole body seeming to tense up. “I came in here to rescue an animal. There’s an injured foal in the woods, most likely injured.” He shook his head, staring at his foot. “Guess that makes two of us now.”

The idea of a wolf rescuing an injured animal didn’t quite make sense to Miranda, but she decided not to point that out, at least, for now.

“Think you could lend me your bathrobe?” Bryon asked suddenly, “unless you’d rather I remain on display.”

Miranda’s entire face went red, even more so as her gaze drifted to his well-sculpted torso. Clearing her throat, she nodded, tugged off her bathrobe, and handed it to him. He pulled it on immediately, wrapping it around himself. Without the sash, there wasn’t much keeping the robe from opening and revealing his goods to her eyes. She dismissed that particular thought from her mind.

“Thanks,” he said. “Now, we’ve got a bigger problem.”

“You think? I saw you transform! How’s that even possible? I’m surprised I’m not totally freaking out right now. Oh, wait—I am.” She was sitting almost perfectly still, taking deep, steady breaths, but her heart jackhammered against her ribcage, her mind racing like an Olympic gold medalist.

“Well, thanks for sticking around, instead of taking off, screaming in terror.”

“It’s not like I would’ve gotten far, anyway. I’m completely lost.”

“And I’m injured.” He gave a crooked smile that sent a tiny shiver through her body. “Looks like we both need help getting out of the woods. I’ve known these woods for more than a decade, so I pretty much know my way around. But I don’t think I’m getting very far on my own with my foot like this. I could help you if you help me.”

She regarded him for a long moment. It was one thing, coming to this stranger’s aid and bandaging his injury, but actually helping him get him out was another. Injured or not, he was still a potential threat. But so far, he was the only human she’d come across in these woods—if she could even call him that, not to mention he wasn’t Jerry. If she hoped to make it out of these woods in one piece, she’d need all the help she could get.

“If you show me how to get out of here,” she said, “who’s to say I won’t just take off and tell everyone I saw a wolf turn into a man?”

He seemed to stiffen at her words. “Because you don’t really want to. Besides, who’d believe you?”

Miranda ground her teeth without meaning to. He had a point, but Jerry had said those words to her before, when she walked in on him naked and in bed with that redhead two months ago. Who’d believe you over me?

What the hell was she getting herself into?

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll help each other.”

He nodded. “Smart choice. Now, help me up, will you? If we get a move on now, we should be able to make it out of here before my foot gets any worse.”

Chapter Three

A Party Accident

“This party blows,” Bryon said.

“Are you kidding me?” His best friend, Harold, clapped him on the shoulder, letting out a whoop that could be heard over the music. “This party is the best thing I’ve experienced since watching you fall in that lake last month.”

Bryon shook his head, resisting a grin as he took another sip of his beer. He peered over the rim of his cup, sweeping his gaze around the living room. The lights were dim, the music deafening, and a crowd of thirty, maybe forty, people were dancing, drinking or, like him, standing in a corner with a drink in hand. In his periphery, he spotted a few women making their way drunkenly up the stairs.

“It’s almost like a college party,” Harold said, with a huge grin on his face.

“Except we’re not in college,” Bryon couldn’t help pointing out. “We’re in our thirties. We should be at home right now, or sitting in some bar that’s about to close for the night.”

His friend smirked, his green eyes gleaming even in the dim light. He brushed his red hair out of his face. “Oh, come on, buddy. It’s a great party. You’re just disappointed because Ravishing Rhoda didn’t show up.”

“How many times have I told you not to call her that?”