Christmas Moon by Sadie Hart Page B

her eyes. Hope, shining and bright, had
flared just for a moment before she squashed it down.
    In White Pine, a tree was something a person
could find with relative ease—all one needed was a good chain saw
and a way to haul it home. Both of which Hunter had. Striding out
to his shed, he flicked on the dim light and looked around. He had
a spare tree stand in here somewhere. It wasn’t the prettiest
looking thing and he hoped like hell she had a tree skirt to hide
it, but if it kept the tree upright it was doing its job.
    Shoving aside a few ratty cardboard boxes,
Hunter peered at the shelves. He had more junk in this place than
he knew what to do with. He flipped open a few of the boxes labeled
‘Xmas’ in black marker. Strands of outdoor lights, an old light-up
wreath he wasn’t even sure worked anymore, a few wicker reindeer in
another. He toed that box toward the door.
    If she wanted a tree, maybe she’d want
more.
    The woman who’d come to White Pine to
disappear seemed to be fading into the background, the part of
herself she’d wanted to hide slowly coming back to the surface.
He’d been interested before, curious. He’d wanted a chance to get
to know her.
    Now, that desire strengthened to a need.
    Bree had risked her life today to save a
member of his pack. She wasn’t even a Hound anymore, and hell, he
couldn’t say any other Hound would have done what she’d done. Most
didn’t give a rat’s ass for the shifters they were supposed to
protect. But Bree had. He’d seen the flash of scorn in the local
Hounds here, knew damn well Shifter Town Enforcement probably
wouldn’t welcome her back—at least not in White Pine—and yet she’d
done more for his pack than anyone else.
    Rylie was okay because of her.
    Someone else might have tried to blame Bree.
After all, the rogue clearly had a beef with her, not with Hunter
and his pack. But she hadn’t asked for a husband that had wound up
a murderer, she hadn’t asked to lose her daughter, and she damn
well hadn’t asked for some psycho to stalk her here and torment
someone else.
    But the moment Hunter had asked for her help,
she’d given it willingly.
    The least he could do was help her get a tree
in time for Christmas. He flipped open another box. Halloween
decorations in with the Christmas. Picking through the black cats
and jack o’ lanterns he spotted the old tree stand and pulled it
out. Tucking that under one arm and the first box under the other
he shouldered his way out of the shed and kicked the door shut
behind him.
    By the time he had the box and stand in the
truck he was ready to go, and a glance at his watch told him he was
right on time. A curl of anticipation twisted in his gut and he
headed for the cab, only to head back down towards Bree’s house.
Just a few days and already the sight of her house was becoming
normal. Something he longed to see.
    She was standing in the driveway, her hands
stuffed in her coat pockets. She’d drawn her long ruby-spun hair
into a pony tail and had a pair of green earmuffs on atop her head.
A few Christmas window clings hung in her window, already a
difference from the empty façade just an hour ago.
    And she looked...happy.
    Proud.
    Hunter couldn’t help but wonder why the
sudden change in spirit. He pulled to a stop next to her and
reached over to open the passenger door for her. She smiled and
pulled herself inside. “I really appreciate it.”
    “It’s the least I can do,” he said, flashing
her a smile and backing the truck down towards the road again.
“Though I do have to ask, why now?”
    Bree bit her lip. A nervous gesture, full of
innocence, and Hunter jerked his attention back to the road. He
wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips of hers, soothe away
the little indentations left behind from her teeth. The more time
he spent with her, the more he wanted to know her.
    He drummed his fingers against the steering
wheel to take his mind off what it would be like to kiss her again.
He