Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) by Isabelle Hemlock Page A

“She could have done a lot
worse, Dad.”

 
    Not a ringing endorsement for Avery, but I’ll let it slide
if it means I can crawl into bed in the next five minutes.  He grumbles
his reply, “She could have done better.”  Ugh, I don’t want to argue Avery’s merits - simply because sadly, I
only can speak of how he makes me feel: sexy, and important.  And how
gentle each touch has been with me so far.  It’s such an unfamiliar
feeling, that all I want to do is go to sleep, so I can hurry the morning
along, and snuggle with him in the corner booth at the diner.  But no, I
can’t speak on his merits as a person, or mate, just yet.  So I need to
just move this conversation a long, before he tries to dig any deeper , “I’m heading to bed, I’ll see you all -”
My Dad shoots me a look, he’s pushing against my alpha-like personality, and I
feel the need to bare my neck and submit.  But then I think of what it’d
mean to let my Dad control what happens next.  He’s got werewolves coming
in sometime next week, and he’s praying that I’ll mate with one of them - he
doesn’t get, that Avery is it for me.  I know it, Avery will soon know it,
and my Dad needs to accept it.  So I try again, “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

 
    Savannah, who never let go of him, pulls him backwards a
little with her, and I go off to the side, hurrying myself along the dining
room, then the kitchen, then to my room down the hall.  I shut it before
either of them tries to talk to me more.  It’s quite the damper on such a
wonderful evening, but as I settle into the bed, my thoughts instantly go to
Avery: his blonde hair, his almond shaped blue eyes, his fingers on my skin,
the way he cupped my breast in that alley . . . I pull the cover up to my chin,
and rub my legs together so tightly, that I can feel the wetness between my
legs.  

 
    I wish he was here.

 
    The Next Morning

 
    Even though it’s only eight hours later, by the time I sit
in the diner the next day, it’s all I can do but cling to the vinyl cushion
underneath me, to prevent myself from jumping into his arms, as soon as he
walks through the door.  Avery looks down to the right first, before
turning his face to the other side, and almost instantly catches me sitting in
the last possible booth, right beside the large window.  I didn’t think he
could get any cuter, but he looks more relaxed this morning.  Instead of
slacks, he’s wearing jeans.  The light blue button up is rolled up to his
arms, showing off the lean muscle coating them.  He’s wearing converse
sneakers, and his gelled blonde hair from last night, is washed and tied back
in a small bun.  Here I thought he might be a bit of a stick in the mud,
but as he walks to me, I’m starting to think he’s a closet nerd, who isn’t
bothering to hide himself anymore - at least not with me.

 
    “Sleep well?”

My legs clench together again, wanting to get lost in that voice.  I bite
my bottom lip, and answer honestly, “Not
at all.”  

 
    He looks a little surprised, and smirks, “Why not?  Your Dad didn’t keep you
all night trying to convince you not to come this morning, did he?”

 
    I shake my head, “No,
I - I just missed you.”  

I don’t know why I feel so equally comfortable, and vulnerable all at the same
time with him.  Just last night, I was tongue wrestling with the guy, and
this morning, with his beautiful eyes staring down at me, I want to roll myself
into a ball, and crawl into his lap.  I’m brazen, but reserved.  I’m
horny, but all I want to do is talk to him and learn everything I can.  I
don’t want small talk, I want the nitty gritty of who
he is as a person.  What scares him?  What makes him get up in the
morning?  Does he have any sort of faith?  Does he want a family?
 Does he want me - longterm ?  

 
    He glides into the seat across from me, and reaches his
hand over the table.  I instantly take it, and let out a