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She opens the passenger door and climbs in while I load the fern into the cab. By the time I get behind the wheel, she’s buckled in beside me, like she belongs there.

I start the engine and head toward Briar End Lane.

“You do that a lot,” Nora says, turning to look at me.

“What?”

“Help people while looking annoyed about it.”

“You were taking too long.”

“To get in the truck?”

“To stop arguing.”

We drive for a few minutes without speaking, which should make things easier. It doesn’t. I’m aware of her beside me the entire time, of the smell of her shampoo and the little huff she makes when the truck bumps over a raised section of road.

“What do you actually do? For work?” Nora asks.

I keep my eyes on the road. “Things.”

“That isn’t a job.”

“It pays.”

Nora shakes her head. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Town maintenance? Repairs?”

“Yes.”

“Building?”

“When needed.”

Nora looks at my hands on the steering wheel. “You’re good with them.” Her eyes flick to my face as she realizes what she said, and color rises into her cheeks. “I meant fixing things.”

I almost smile. “I know.”

“There,” she says. “You nearly smiled.”

“Didn’t.”

“Hewit, I saw it.” Her grin becomes unbearable. “I’m going to make you do it again.”

I glance at her as I pull into Briar End Lane. She’s still smiling, and my gaze catches on her mouth before I can stop it. The wolf presses close beneath my skin, warm and alert.

Bad idea.

“You shouldn’t make plans involving me,” I tell her.

Her smile softens, but she stops teasing. For the first time since she climbed into my truck, she looks at me without trying to turn the moment into a joke. “Why?”

Because I’ll disappoint you.

Because you don’t know what I am when the wolf isn’t calm.