Free Hot Springs Werewolf Complete Series (BBW Werewolf Erotic Romance) by Emily Cantore Page B

started thinking scared I was going to freak myself out and run. I stopped edging and walked boldly in. Directly ahead of me was a giant staircase that led up to the second storey. From there was another staircase curving along one wall up to the third floor. From where I stood I could see gaping holes in it and I decided I would avoid that floor rather than fall to my death. To the left and right the corridor went a little way before curving. Whomever had built this place didn't believe in straight lines. Directly above me hung the tattered remnants of a chandelier. The structure of it was still there but only a few glittering pieces of glass remained. I saw that someone had used bright orange rope to secure it to the ceiling.
    As I looked around I saw more evidence that someone had been working here. The bright orange rope was peeking out near the stairs. The windows were boarded over with plywood and there was a pile of rubble and dirt in the far left corner where someone had attempted to clear the floor. I headed in that direction for no particular reason and followed the curved corridor.
    I don't know what I was looking for really. It was an abandoned old house and although it had been the Finch mansion I wasn't expecting there to be anything there. I just wanted to look. To wander around and get some sense of who my relatives had been.
    I quickly found bedrooms branching off the corridor. One still had a bed in it, quietly rotting away, the mattress sagging down in the middle and the whole thing listing to the side like a ship crashed on a coral reef. There were bits of smashed up wood all over the place that looked to be from wardrobes or armoires perhaps. I left the bedrooms, continuing to explore until I came to a gaping hole in the floor and saw another complete room below me. I froze and realized I'd been walking around on a very old and very fragile layer of wood above a good twelve-foot drop. Feeling like the floor might collapse at any moment, I carefully turned around and make my way back down the corridor, careful to step only where I had already walked.
    I reached the main entrance with my nerves buzzing and the sounds of the house not being so friendly. It was creaking and sighing and in my mind the thousand living things gently murmuring to themselves had become rats and spiders waiting for me to fall through the floor and break my legs. I wouldn't even be dead when they started to eat me.
    I was about to bolt out the front door when I saw it. A cup of coffee sitting on the staircase, a curl of steam floating above it. A blue ceramic cup where there had been no cup before.
    "Boo."
    I screamed and whirled, my hand already a fist, ready to attack and then Red caught my arm, stopping me.
    "Harper, it's just me."
    I pulled my arm out of his grasp and then pushed him away from me. Or tried to. It was like pushing a tree.
    "You asshole!"
    My heart was thudding in my chest like it might explode and cold adrenaline was fizzing away through my body.
    "You always break into houses on a Sunday?"
    I was taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself down but it was only working slowly.
    "The door was open. I didn't break in."
    Red smiled at me (and for a moment I wanted to slap him for scaring me) and went to the stairs to pick up his coffee. He sat down and took a sip.
    "You like what I've done with the place?"
    I swallowed, feeling my lips and tongue and every other nerve ending in my body. Fucking asshole scare me.
    Then last night came back to me. In my fight-or-flight it had gone from my mind. I looked at Red and felt a surge of anger. He was sitting there looking at me over his coffee. Looking damn hot. Looking damn married.
    "I met your wife last night after you jumped out the window."
    I don't know what I was expecting but I didn't expect this. Red spurted his coffee, half of it coming out his nose and went into a choking and coughing fit. Most of what was in his cup splashed over his hand and down on to his jeans