“Let me help,” I said, jumping up.  I took two of the cans from his hands and smiled up at him.

His face flushed.  He swallowed hard and glanced down at what I wore.

I pretended not to notice his reaction and lifted a can.  “What are you doing with all of this?”

He met my eyes again, and his voice was rough when he spoke.

“The outside needs painting, too.  I thought I’d start on it while the paint dried in there.”

He gave me one last look, turned, and walked to the far corner of the porch where he set down the painting supplies.

“Is the apartment almost done?” I asked as I trailed behind him.  I set the two cans next to his pile.

“I still need to work on some plumbing, but its close.  Want to see it?” he said, looking at me once more.  The flush had faded, but he was careful to maintain eye contact.  The steady look made it hard to pretend I didn’t feel underdressed.

“That’s okay.”

“I could actually use your input on the colors in the bathroom.  Nana bought a variety of cans on clearance, and I’m down to a yellow and a grey.”

The idea of talking about paint colors shouldn’t have caused my stomach to dip or a pink flush to spread across my skin.  Yet, it did.  I pushed down the jitters, resisted the urge to tug at the edges of the bikini top, and nodded.

He smiled at me.  His dimple made my heart stop.  He extended a hand to indicate I should lead.  I turned and walked to the apartment’s porch entrance.  The door led into a large, open-concept living room and kitchen.  Thick, clear plastic covered the beige carpet immediately inside the door, protecting it from paint spills.  White speckles already decorated it from painting the ceiling.  He had painted the wall dividing the living room and kitchen from the rest of the apartment a dark brown.  A warm, light brown coated the remaining walls.  The main door to the apartment was located just inside the kitchen area where the beige carpet transitioned into large earth-toned tiles.

“Wow.  This looks great.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said quietly.  “Let me show you the bathroom.”

He led me to the hallway where an orphaned toilet waited for installation.  He stopped just outside the bathroom door.

“We can’t go in.  The grout is still wet, but you can see the colors in the tile from here.”

He moved aside so I could lean against the wall and peek into the room.

In the process of leaning forward to look, I knocked over a loose piece of molding.  It tipped inward toward the newly grouted floor.  I didn’t even have time to wince before Emmitt snapped it out of the air, impossibly fast.  The move reminded me of our differences, and a tiny bit of fear grew in the pit of my stomach as I recalled how quickly Frank had leapt over the table to claim his right to scent me first.

A shudder ran through me.

“Don’t,” Emmitt whispered hoarsely.

I turned to him, confused.

“You are the one person who will never have to fear me.”

Fear him, why would he say that?  Usually, I just felt confused.  Like now.  The only time I felt fear around him, I’d ended up kicking him in the...

“I’m sorry I kneed you.”

He reached out and gently touched my cheek, feathering his fingertips over it from temple to jaw.  My heart started to beat faster.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured as he moved closer.

I glanced down at his lips.  My breath hitched.  I looked up, and I couldn’t think.  His deep blue eyes held me in place, waiting, anticipating.  His head lowered.  My lips parted.

“And I’m sorry I missed it,” Jim said from the living room, startling me.

Emmitt’s hand dropped back to his side, and his eyes flicked down the hall in annoyance.

Free of the spell, I put some space between us, tried to calm my thundering hear, and peeked at the bathroom one more time.

“The yellow won’t work, but the grey might.  Too bad you didn’t have a blue-grey to match the flecking in the tile.”

I kept my eyes locked on the bathroom, not wanting to explore what might be in Emmitt’s gaze.  He apparently hadn’t understood my friendship speech as well as I’d hoped.  He needed to be the strong one and stay away from me, because I had very little willpower when it came to him.

“Thank you,” Emmitt said.

I nodded and led the way down the hallway, thankful for Jim’s intervention.

“Why are you here, Jim?” Emmitt said before we reached the end.

“Aden mentioned something about cookies...”  Jim’s words trailed off as I stepped into view.  Then, he wolf-whistled.

“I regret my decision to think of you as a sister,” he said with a grin.  “Nana can sure pick a suit.  I think you should really wear a t-shirt over that, though.”

“Shut up, Jim,” Emmitt said flatly behind me.

I blushed and kept walking toward the porch door.  Emmitt and Jim stayed behind in the apartment.  I could hear their low, murmured voices as I picked up my blanket and book.

In that moment before Jim interrupted us, Emmitt had wrapped me in his spell.  I’d wanted nothing more than his kiss.  Nana’s comment about shallow connections rang in my ears.  While the boys played school with Nana, I vowed I’d use that time to learn, too.  Time to start Werewolf 101.  Tomorrow.

*    *    *    *

After Nana collected the boys for their morning lessons, I grabbed a cookie and went to search out Emmitt.  He wasn’t hard to find.  I followed the sound of a quick, metallic rasp outside on the porch.  Paint flakes decorated the decking by our doors.  Free of loose paint, the third floor of the back of the house awaited its turn at rejuvenation.

Turning the far corner, I almost ran into Emmitt and smashed the cookie between us.  His quick reflexes caught me and robbed me of the cookie.  Grinning, he took a bite before he offered it back.

“I actually brought it for you,” I said.

His face lost a little of its playfulness.  He tilted his head, studying me with a silent question.

“Will you tell me about your family?”  I reached for the nearby broom.  “Please.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.  Everything.”  I shrugged.  My stomach was in knots.  I wanted to know, but I didn’t.

“My dad’s side is from Canada.  My mom, from the states.  They met when she was pretty young.  The way my dad tells it, it was love at first sight.  My mom just rolls her eyes.”  He grinned at me between brisk scrapes.  He made quick progress, stripping the boards of paint.  I struggled to keep up with him as I trailed behind with the broom.

“My dad’s brother lives in Canada with them at the Compound.”

I stopped sweeping and looked at him.

“It’s a collection of old buildings; the community I grew up in.  It has been struggling for decades to support itself while keeping away from the corrupt influences of the outside world,” he said with a hint of humor.

“Corrupt?”

He quickly swiped around the window.  “Some believed that humans would lead the world to devastation through their wars, pollution, and overpopulation.  They thought, by withdrawing from it, they could save themselves.”

“The day my mom showed up, about thirty years ago, changed the direction they’d been headed.  She made them see they were hurting themselves by hiding from the truth.  They’d created their own distrust by not learning about the changes they were scorning and made it harder for future generations to rejoin the world.  That’s part of the reason they sent me back here to live with Nana Wini.

“The more of us who leave to learn about the world, the better it is for others when we go back and share what we learned.  The money we earn doesn’t hurt, either.  Part of the reason I know what I’m doing here is because I grew up helping with this kind of work back home.”

We rounded the corner, and he began scraping on the front of the house.  Behind us, I left neat little piles of paint chips.