Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 222

Chapter 222: Grace: "Stargazing"

Caine’s bizarre behavior is too much for my sleepy brain to compute, and for some reason he seems to be hiding something from me, only looking at me from over his shoulder.

It’s too dark to make out what he’s doing, but also I have to admit I’m not really focused on figuring it out. Instead, I’m trying not to stare at his butt or how broad his shoulders are or how he smells so damn good.

The man’s turning me into a closet pervert and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

"Do you want to look at the stars?" he blurts out.

I blink. "The stars?"

"Yes. Outside." He gestures vaguely toward the door with something big and bulky in his hand, only to jerk it out of sight again and hold it in front of him. "It’s clear tonight."

He wants to go stargazing? At oh-dark-thirty?

I should say no. I should go back to bed, where Sara and Bun are sprawled across my mattress like tiny dictators. I should absolutely not follow this man outside where anyone might see us while wondering if he’s going to slam me against his truck and have his wicked way with me.

Wow, my imagination’s really broadening these days.

"Okay," I say, and it’s not because I’m tempted by the strange thoughts going through my head. It’s not.

The night air hits my bare legs as Caine opens the door, and I immediately regret not grabbing pants. At least I’m wearing panties this time, though, and the shirt is oversized enough to cover my thighs.

Still, I tug at the hem, trying to make it longer through sheer willpower as Caine does an awkward waddle out the door and tosses something under the camper.

I reach for the light switch for the strip lights on the camper’s exterior, but he suddenly jumps up the few steps to cover my hand with his.

"Don’t," he says softly.

His touch sends a familiar jolt through me—the strange, electric current that connects us, mixed with the brain-melting heat of desire.

"Okay," I whisper, completely lost to whatever sexual siren call he’s putting out. My inhibitions are very clearly zero.

He releases my hand, and I miss his touch immediately.

Everything is quiet and still; this isn’t a bustling area at any time of day or night, but I wonder how many people are in the shadows watching. There’s no way Ellie doesn’t have at least one spy on me at all times.

The whole "secret relationship" plan is unraveling by the minute, and I can’t make myself care a single bit.

Caine suddenly stops, and I nearly crash into his back. He turns and grabs my wrist, his grip gentle but firm.

"Don’t trip and fall," he says quietly, like he isn’t the reason I almost did.

Still... he has a point. In the darkness, I can barely make out the ground, much less the details of it. And I’m barefoot.

"Okay," I say for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, letting him guide me to Lyre’s truck.

He opens the passenger door, not the tailgate.

I slide in, confused. If we’re supposed to be stargazing, why are we getting inside the vehicle...?

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