The Montgomery Family Chronicles - Book Four
by J.J. Massa
Never had Sue been so glad to be back in America, and now she was moving into Old Moon, the town where her best friend lived. What could be better than that--there was no drama at Tracey's place…or so she thought.
The party was in full swing by the time Philly arrived. She gripped the champagne flute in white-knuckled determination, forcing back a surge of claustrophobia as she made her way through the pressing crowd. These parties were always the same. She wasn’t even sure why she came, although, as long as she was here, she might as well try to have some fun. Wasn’t that what Ashley and Quigs were always telling her? For once, she would take their advice.
The strains of a sultry saxophone accompanied by a rich piano and bass guitar had replaced the throbbing beat that had stirred the crowd to a fever pitch only moments ago. Now, couples were pairing off and floating slowly around the packed dance floor. This might be a penthouse, but there just wasn’t enough space for the number of people packed into it.
An eye on the beautifully dressed dancers, Philly was reminded of her late mother’s oft-used admonition to watch where she was going. Of course, easier said than done in a crowd like this. According to her favorite cousin, though, that’s what elbows were for…
“Oof,” she coughed, realizing that the solid mass she’d walked into was a man–a tall, solid, muscular man.
“Oh, my bad,” she apologized as she tried to clear her head. Tilting her head back, Philly looked up. Those eyes…She looked deeply into the beautiful light green eyes that had haunted her dreams for over half of her life.
He looked down into her face and smiled at her. She couldn’t believe it, but he smiled at her. For once, finally, after all this time, he was seeing her. In fact, he was more than seeing her. To her shock, he was wrapping an arm around her and nuzzling her neck!
“You don’t really want this, do you?” he rumbled in her ear, fingering the almost forgotten champagne glass that she’d somehow managed to hold on to without spilling its effervescent contents.
“N-no,” she whispered, not sure what to say to him now that she was standing, encircled in his arms. She really only wanted one thing in her life and he was it, and standing right there in front of her. He was all she’d ever wanted, really.
“I’ve had enough of that stuff for both of us. Dance with me?” His warm, mild baritone vibrated through her, turning her insides to butter.
The power of speech temporarily deserted her and she nodded dreamily. This was like a dream come true. His smile was intimate and approving as he escorted her out onto the dance floor, pulling her against him and resting his cheek against her hair. They seemed to fit perfectly.
She was certain that all of her dreams had just come true until he pulled a little away and looked down at her. Was he going to leave her there? Had she displeased him somehow?
“What are you afraid of, little one?” he asked. “Surely not me?” His voice rumbled through her in a velvety satin caress.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” she whispered nervously, breathlessly. She’d known he was meant for her for so many years. Werewolves only had one true life mate—two under extraordinary cases, but only if the first one was dead. He was hers.
“Where else would I be?” he asked, staring into her eyes, unmoving. “You’re mine. You belong only to me,” he murmured, his voice dropping low.
When she didn’t respond, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, and cupping her head in the palms of his hands, he tipped it back and lowered his mouth to hers.