A Howling Heart
Chapter two

The day flies by, and after an hour of lugging in boxes with me, Nate leaves promising to text me later, and the anticipation of things going smoothly for once is too much to handle.

Later, after Nate texts me the address, I manage to drive to the outskirts of the town where the house is. It's an old, brick, Victorian-style home with overgrowth along the sides. The vines climb up the walls but curl away from the windows as if what lurks inside is death itself.

I nervously saunter up to the door, smoothing my shirt before I lift my hand to knock.

It's okay to be nervous.

The interview is always the worst part.

"Fae." The deep, husky, but completely alluring voice of a male startles me because it doesn't come from within the house but off to the side near the driveway. That voice...

I turn to face the man, eyes widening immediately when they rest upon "Nate's Friend."

with wide eyes when you settle them on the friend Nate was talking about. In a faded denim button-up, with a dash of his sculpted pecs in view, a jawline that could cut diamonds, a set of lips that look far too kissable, dark tantalizing locks to shove my fingers through, and eyes that look like he wants to do something a little more wicked than greet me, I am at a loss of words.

Oh my goodness.... It's him.

"You."

I blink rapidly, aware that my jaw is on the floor as my eyes scan his face.

No. It can't be. I'm losing my mind. He's not the man from my dreams. Just a look-alike...

He stalks towards me, so close his arm almost brushes my side as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

And a sound alike.

My nostrils flare while I take in his large, looming, muscular frame as he invades the entire space of the doorway. He turns around to meet my shocked expression.

This whole move is messing with my head.

He stares at me, his face impassive as he waits for me to elaborate. The only thing that differs from the man in my dreams is the eyes. His aren't glowing intensely. They are a dark, eclipsing brown.

No. I'm just nervous.

He utters my name again, firmer this time and it rips me from my mental breakdown.

"Fae. Nate said you'd be here."

Say my name again. Please. It sounds heavenly coming from you. Absolutely, Heaven-

Get your mind out of the gutter, Fae! You're here for work! W-O-R-K!

I manage to swallow the lump in my throat, aware that I need to close my mouth, and offer a small smile to the man who's standing expectantly in front of me. Now that the stunned feeling has begun to slowly deteriorate, I'm surprised by his blatant attractiveness.

Wow. He's gorgeous.

I realize I haven't said anything for the past minute. I clear my throat and chuckle awkwardly.

"Sorry. I uh... yes. Nate told me to come here, said you needed help with someone. A relative."

He nods, and spins around stalking off into the house without giving me a clear invitation. I scurry after him, tucking strands of curls that loosen from my bun as I move deeper into the house, the door slamming closed loudly behind me causes me to jump.

Please tell me I'm not already blowing this.

With what Nate said, this might be the best offer I get.

I find him sitting in the living room, his brow arched when I enter.

"Again, I'm sorry."

He nods, and gestures with a head nod to the seat. His demeanor isn't exactly portraying acceptance or thrill. It only makes me more anxious. "Sit."

Oh no, he's mad.

I nod and move to the couch where I settle on the seat. My palms are clammy as I clasp my hands together.

"I'm sorry, what was your name again," I ask, pretending like he gave it to me but I simply forgot, when we both know that he didn't give it to me at all.

He takes a deep breath, flexing his fingers into fists as his eyes bore deep into my soul. The silence is suffocating. The longer it remains, I find my heart picking up pace and pounding in my ribcage. Yup. I already blew it.

I've had the worst luck lately.

I sit here quietly, almost convinced it'd be better to dart out of there when he finally speaks.

"I'm sure Nate has explained what I've been looking for."

Okay, so I suppose we will just avoid polite introductions where one reveals his name. If I'm going to be working for this man, then I expect a little more openness.

I nod, and begin opening my mouth to speak when he cuts me off and continues.

"My uncle is in poor health... he's in need of some care. What are your credentials?" His jaw ticks. The sight sends chills down me, but not the kind from being spooked, the kind from a certain womanly part of you.

If I'm being honest, nothing, but that isn't a way to score a job.

"Oh well, um... I did some health care work in the old town we lived in."

I hope he can't tell I'm lying through my teeth. It isn't right, but in a way, I do have some healthcare experience taking care of my mom. Just none on paper.

"I'm very compassionate -"

He leans forward. "You're lying."

The certainty of his accusation startles me. I blink rapidly, flustered by his words as I attempt to regain my composure and appear insulted by his insinuation despite the fact it's incredibly true.

How did he know that?

"It's the way you present yourself. Your body..."

He wraps a meaty arm around his torso and cups his chin as he narrows his eyes and scrutinizes me like I'm an exhibit to be studied. I hate his probing gaze and the way it not only makes me feel things I haven't felt in a long time, but how dominating it is.

My body?

"What do you mean?"

"The way you carry yourself, Fae."

He licks his lips, amusement flickering on the corner of his mouth as he eyes me uncomfortable shifting in my seat.

We are complete opposites.

What do I say now?

"Look.... Mr-"

"My name is Matias."

Never heard that name before.

His name replays in my head, and the longer it bounces around in my skull, I begin to feel heat stirring within me that travels from my toes upwards to the area between my legs.

"Matias..." I swear you hear a low growl after I've uttered his name on my tongue, but I dismiss that thought. A man like him? Growling? It's not plausible.

I might as well be truthful with him.

"I have no real experience. I haven't worked in the healthcare field. I'm just a failed community college student who ended up dropping out a semester before graduation because my mother started getting sick."

I don't know why I'm saying all of this. It's not like he's going to care.

"Your mother's sickness, I would assume you've gained experience taking care of her, no?"

"Well, yes. She's still able to be independent somewhat, but I have helped her."

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his powerful thighs.

"Advice? Lead with that next time. You get more from the truth than you do bullshitting people."

"Like you?"

And, my feet are back in my mouth.

I expect anger from my outburst. A man like him doesn't seem to be the type to take interruption too kindly, but instead of a malicious look in his eyes, I'm met with a slight hint of amusement as the corner of his lip twitches upward. "Sorry," I rush, hands waving as I begin to explain why I'm on edge. "I am running on like no sleep and I-"

He interrupts me by holding up his hand. "Don't apologize. When you speak something, own it. Yes, I'm blunt. I have to be." "What does that mean?"

"I am the man of my family, therefore I can't cower because I'm afraid of hurting people's feelings."

I fidget with the end of my shirt, hating how small I feel at the moment.

"So, your mother's been sick?" He begins again, allowing me another chance to save the interview before I've ruined the opportunity completely.

Not a topic I'd love to dwell on.

"Mhm."

"How long?"

I remember the first night I distinctly remember. It was 11 pm, and she'd gotten up to go to the bathroom and collapsed on the floor and there was blood trickling out of her mouth. I couldn't wake her.... No matter what I did, I couldn't wake her. Scariest moment of my life.

"I can imagine."

D-did I just say that out loud?

I laugh awkwardly and tuck some strands of hair behind my ear. I always fidget when I'm nervous because I've always avoided awkward situations or conflict so my mind has found ways to distract me from them.

"Look at me."

I slowly lift my gaze from the ground, dragging them up his muscular legs to the thick rigged stature of his chest and arms to that face that's sharply attractive. Every time I look at his face I feel a stab in my lungs and it's hard to breathe. I don't know whether I'm just overly attracted to the guy, or offended by him.

I swear I hear his voice in my head saying one word.

Perfect.

He clears his throat and my eyes move to his throat as images of teeth flash in my mind. I lift my hand to my forehead, pressing it against it hoping my behavior can be explained by a fever, but I am in no such luck. "What can I give you?"

"G-give me?" I stammer at his insinuation because my brain is conjuring up some not-so-PG-rated things.

"What do you mean?"

Is he talking about hours or pay?

Because honestly I just want to be able to support my mom.

"What do you want, Fae?"

The way he's looking at me combined with the attraction I feel for him and my lack of sleep, I accidentally blurt out what I'm thinking.

"You."