Wyatt snorted as he set the racks in the trunk and turned to grab more. “Not likely, Callista.”
I frowned at his muscled back as he walked away from me. “You know I’m a werewolf, right? I can more than handle carrying these myself.”
Wyatt spun around but continued to walk backward toward the garage. “I know exactly what you are,” he said easily, but his words stopped me dead in my tracks. It felt like there was some deeper meaning there, but maybe that was my imagination. I shook off the heavy feeling and followed him. “But I’m not going to sit and watch you carry all this shit when I could be helping.”
I sighed, but kept my lips pressed together to prevent another retort from flying out. If I knew southern men, and worse, southern werewolves, I knew there’d be no winning this argument. Instead, I followed him silently and watched through narrowed eyes as he picked up a set of racks that were taller than him and turned to leave. There were only a few left for me to grab and I worked to feel grateful and not annoyed that he’d basically rendered me useless.
Once I deposited the last of the samples in the SUV, I left Wyatt to arrange them in a way that would allow the trunk to close while I secured the garage door. When I turned back around, he was standing by the passenger door with it held open and another handsome grin on his face.
I suppressed a grimace as I dutifully walked over and slid onto the leather seat. “Thanks,” I muttered as he closed the door and walked around to get in on the driver’s side.
So far, my plan was not working. Spending more time with Wyatt wasn’t lessening the attraction or allure, it was only deepening it. Now I had a twenty-minute drive to downtown Asheville to get through, all with Wyatt Carter sitting less than a foot away from me. I closed my eyes and slouched down in my seat as I willed my stupid heart to slow down and my hands to stop sweating. I had a feeling this was going to be the longest twenty minutes of my life.
Chapter 6
Callie
“So, what is all that stuff?”
How had I never noticed how intoxicating his scent was before? It was like warm leather and the spicy musk of a man. It swirled around me in the confines of the SUV as I tried my best to hold my breath and ignore it.
And had he always been this hot? I don’t mean looking, even though, of course, he was that too. I meant physically hot. Like I could feel the heat of his thick arm even though there was at least a foot separating us.
Between trying not to sniff him and also ignore the heatwave emanating from his skin, it was almost possible to forget the deep pulling in the pit of my stomach. Almost.
“Callista?”
I whipped my head in his direction, as always careful to avoid his eyes. Thankfully, he was facing the road and not me, making it a lot easier to escape the warm brown depths I’d gotten lost in once. I sat up straight in my seat and said, “Huh?”
The corner of his lip twitched, and I couldn’t help but focus on it.
“All the stuff you have loaded in the trunk. What is it?”
“Oh. That.”
Silence stretched between us as I sat there transfixed by his mouth. Finally, he turned to me and my gaze darted to the balled-up fists in my lap. “Callista?”
Crap.
He’d asked me a question, hadn’t he?
“Right. Sorry. They’re water samples.”
I glanced back up at him in time to watch one of his thick brows arch. “Water samples?”
“Yes.”
Silence again.
“What kind of water samples?”
I turned to look out my window. It was much easier to watch the pine trees whipping past than to fight the urge to stare at his masculine profile. “They’re from rivers and lakes around North Carolina.”
I’d thought that talking to him more would desensitize me to his charms, but it wasn’t working. Or maybe I wasn’t letting it work. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to just be his friend and packmate. It certainly seemed like all I was capable of was making an idiot out of myself. I discreetly crossed my fingers in my lap, hoping he’d drop this line of questioning and we could spend the rest of the trip in an awkward, but safe silence, but I wasn’t that lucky.
“What are you doing with the water samples?”
I sighed quietly. “Testing them.”
“For what?”
Pursing my lips, I answered, “Contamination.”
“What kind of contamination?”
Closing my eyes, I counted to five slowly before opening them again. It didn’t seem to matter how curt I was, Wyatt wouldn’t be dissuaded. I was bordering on rude and still, his tone was light and inquisitive, not hinting at any irritation at my brusque behavior at all.
What was with this guy?
“Contamination from fracking.”
“Isn’t fracking the process of drilling for natural gas?”
I frowned at the passing scenery before slowly turning to face Wyatt. “You know what fracking is?”
He shook his head, and if I’d been looking at his eyes, I’m positive I’d have seen them rolling at me. “I know how to read, Callista.”
“Callie.”
“Huh?”
“Call me Callie. No one calls me Callista.”
He was quiet for a minute, so I peeked at his profile to find his pink lips curled into a grin.
“So, does that make me your friend now?”
“What? No.”
His thick blond brows pulled low over his eyes as he touched his chest with his fist. “You wound me, Callista.”
“Callie,” I reminded him through gritted teeth.
“I’d think only your friends would have the privilege of calling you by your nickname. And if I’m not your friend, then I guess I’m stuck calling you Callista.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re my packmate. Isn’t that enough?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not for me.”
“Why not?” I asked, my voice bordering on whining.
He turned to face me, and I quickly averted my gaze before it could get caught in his. “Because I want more.”
His voice was so deep and sincere, I felt it all the way to the marrow of my bones. I had no doubt he meant what he said and could only hope a friendship was all he was looking for. I didn’t have time or room for anything more.
“How can we be friends when I barely know you?”
Wyatt pursed his lips and nodded slowly as he navigated the winding back roads of Asheville. “Good point. I guess that means we’ll have to get to know each other.”
Dang it.
That was not the direction I was hoping this was going to go in. In fact, it was the exact opposite. I opened my mouth to argue, but closed it before any half-cocked excuse could fall from my lips. What would I say anyway?
I’ve got enough friends?
I’m too busy for friends?
I couldn’t possibly be your friend because you do something to my insides that drives me to distraction?
Each excuse was as poor and ridiculous as the last. So, with that realization, I slumped against the gray leather seat beneath me and sighed. “Fine. We can get to know each other.”
He shot me a sideways glance that I resolutely avoided. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t want to be my friend.”