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Back Claws and Crochet Save as PDF
Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Untitled
  3. CLAWS & CROCHET
  4. NEWSLETTER SIGN UP
  5. CONTENT WARNING
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58. Epilogue
  64. EPILOGUE
  65. VISIT FOLK HAVEN
  66. SEDUCED BY A SELKIE
  67. NEWSLETTER SIGN UP
  68. ALSO BY LAUREN CONNOLLY
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The lady next to me, Cathy, compliments my crocheting, and I show her the progress I’ve made on my hat. Well, not my hat. I plan on giving it to one of my brothers. Probably Donovan, with his close-cropped hair. She shows me her cross-stitch, a beautiful cluster of colorful flowers, and I have no trouble complimenting her skillful needlework.

The exchange is polite but pleasant, and I feel like I’m making a successful effort to step out of my hermit cave.

Taking a sip of my drink requires juggling, and I find myself adjusting my legs again and again to keep my yarn in my lap. The setup isn’t optimal, making it hard to enjoy the sip aspect of this gathering.

Glancing to my left, where Warner sits, quiet and well-behaved, I can’t help the envy that spikes through me at the sight of his spacious lap. Under his jeans is a lovely set of muscular thighs. He’s basically got a sturdy shelf automatically built in.

If he wants to be my friend, then that means helping me out. Right?

I lean over to whisper in his ear, “Can you hold my balls?”

Warner chokes, doubling over to cough out some beer he breathed in. I slap his back a few times, wondering if this aggressive aid has ever really helped. Once his throat clears and he’s done wiping tears from his eyes, Warner gives me his full attention.

“Could you repeat that?”

“My balls keep rolling everywhere.” I indicate the yarn in my lap that even now teeters, just a second away from falling onto the floor. “Do you mind holding them? In your lap?”

The biker doesn’t hesitate. He plucks the yarn from me and settles it into the dip where his legs meet. As if he doesn’t care that he’s not only the lone man in our group, I’ve now asked him to be my yarn assistant.

Warner takes another swig of his beer and grins at me.

Damn. This man is dangerous.

6

WARNER

“This is Minnie’s old place, isn’t it?” I ask once we pull up to the cabin and I cut off the engine on my bike.

“You knew her?”

“Only in passing. She didn’t come into town much.”

Minnie Gunner was a woman more prone to glares than smiles. The few times our paths crossed, she had a much different reaction to my jokes than her granddaughter.

“Yeah, she wasn’t a fan of people. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

“You weren’t close?” That would explain why I’ve never met Zoey despite having spent my entire life in Pine Falls.

“Nope. This is my first time coming here, and she never bothered driving to Denver. Not to visit me or my brothers or my mom. I basically just know that she was my grandmother.”