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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

I grimace. “Sorry. I don’t think Minnie has anything that’ll fit you.” I bite my lip as I brainstorm, coming up with a solution that I might like a little too much. “If you want, I can stick your clothes in the dryer. You can work some toga magic with a couple of towels till then.” Maneuvering past him, I open the hallway linen closet to pull out an armful of towels.

“Are you trying to get me to strip, Zoey Gunner?”

I hide my smile by pushing him toward the bathroom. “Technically? Yes. But with fully innocent intentions.”

Liar.

Warner chuckles and goes where he’s directed. When the door closes, I head to the master bedroom to peel off my damp layers. Painful pricks jab into the soles of my feet and pads of my fingers as I regain feeling. I towel off the cold droplets still clinging to my skin before pulling on a set of flannel pajamas. I’m hugging the soft material close, loving the warm feel of it fighting off the chill, when I hear the bathroom door creak open.

The second before I turn around, I realize I’ve chosen some of the most shapeless, least sexy garments I own. Then, I do turn, and the regret of my choice doubles.

Triples.

Multiplies by a million.

Because I get a gorgeous view of Warner—damp hair, chest bare, towel hanging low on trim hips, grinning wickedly at me.

And I am not dressed for seduction.

It’s hard to remind myself that I decided against getting flirty with this biker when he’s one tug of a towel away from being naked.

So. Deliciously. Naked.

And oh, the things I could do with a naked Warner. Like spread him on my bed and lick his⁠—

“See something you like?” he asks with sin in his voice.

I shove my lust away, the task akin to Sisyphus struggling with his boulder.

“Yes,” I mutter, ignoring how Warner’s grin grows wider. “Grandma Minnie has very nice towels.”

18

WARNER

Zoey slips around me, heads into the bathroom, and shuts the door.

While she takes a moment to herself, I move to the main room, pulling back a curtain to check on the storm.

Still raging away. Fine by me. I’ll take any excuse to hole up in a cabin with Zoey. Maybe the rain will go on all night, and she’ll invite me for a sleepover.

A guy can dream.

Even with my hair wet and my body only covered by a towel, I’m not uncomfortable. But I noticed the thick flannel Zoey cloaked herself in.

I head to the fireplace and spend the next few minutes arranging wood and working to get my lit match to catch the tinder. By the time I hear the bathroom door open, there’s a decent blaze going.