Secrets in the Moon (Crescent City Werewolves #1)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cora had never felt so blissfully happy in her life, a feeling magnified by the sweet simplicity of dozing in bed with Sam. His arm was wrapped around her to keep her close. The back of her head fit against the hollow of his throat, and she could feel his heartbeat against her back. They were in their own little bubble, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Eventually, though, the world came knocking. Quite literally—brisk, impatient raps sounded against the front door. Neither of them moved to answer it, although Sam did shift enough to nuzzle the back of Cora's neck and murmur, "It's Jane. She'll probably use her keys next."

Cora hummed wordlessly, determined to soak in the weight of his body until the very last moment.

Then the front door unlocked, and Jane's voice drifted through to them. "It's been three days since you both holed up in here. Your messages are overflowing, but I thought you'd be interested in the latest one in particular. The police found the man who mugged Miss Marshall. I'll be waiting in the kitchen."

At that, Cora stirred enough to sit up and brush hair out of her eyes. "Maybe they recovered some of my things."

Sam kissed the tender skin beneath her ear before leaving the bed to begin dressing. "Sounds like we're about to find out."

Cora had contacted her tailor after her first night back together with Sam, having remembered that a new outfit would be ready to pick up. She'd had it delivered instead, and the elegant gold boxes waited on the dressing table. Eager to hear the news, she decided to slip into one of Sam's shirts instead, which left her more modest than many of her outfits did.

Sam was already fully clothed, but his eyes glimmered with a hunger she was beginning to recognize at the sight of her in one of his shirts. His attention felt as sweet as honey, even when he restrained himself to a lingering kiss and briefly squeezing her hip beneath the fabric.

Jane only raised an eyebrow at her casual appearance, seeming more interested in drinking a pilfered cup of coffee. The case containing her prototype waited beside her on the kitchen table. She gave Sam a smug look when he greeted her and began skimming through the mail she had brought over, but her attention quickly returned to Cora. "You're not dressed yet? It's late afternoon."

"I haven't been paying much attention to the time." More to the point, there hadn't been any reason to; she and Sam had been constantly at each other. "What's the news about the mugger?"

"He was stupid enough to brag about what he did to friends. He's keeping quiet to the police, however, so they haven't recovered any of your belongings."

"He likely sold them to one of the hundreds of pawnbrokers working in this city," said Sam, voice absent while he looked through the final bundle of mail. His focus sharpened on Cora's disappointed expression, and his tone warmed as he returned to her. "I'll get them back, Bunny. Maybe not everything, but as much as I can."

Cora found it so easy to smile when she was with him. "It's all right. The only thing I really miss is the radio you gifted me. Losing my clothes does sting, but I've decided to fill out my wardrobe by taking back the ones stuck in my father's house."

Jane looked skeptical at the idea. "How? There are still police officers guarding his house, and his bail conditions include a clause that he cannot accept visitors aside from his lawyers."

Cora shrugged. "I don't care. I'm tired of pushy men controlling my life. Those are my clothes and I want them back now, not whenever the lawyers finish fighting each other."

It was a thought that had crystallized into a firm decision in the past few days whenever she had bothered thinking, but not one she had brought up with Sam. Now she glanced over at him, unsure what his response would be.