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What was that smell?

I sleepily sniffed again, wrinkled my nose, and blinked. The sun was shining through the blinds on my bedroom window, and Hank's head was on my shoulder, his face only inches from mine, his mouth slightly open as he snored quietly.

I couldn't help but smile. What a goof. A warped sense of humor, the kind that finds prat falls the height of comedy, and a taste for meat-lover's pizza crowned with anchovies. Right now his golden brown eyes were closed, but his dark hair was tossed in every direction, and I could still catch a glimpse of his ripped chest beneath the sheet. Except for the rank morning breath, he was perfect.

We'd been dating steadily for three months now, and I was thinking of him as my boyfriend, not just some dude I slept with occasionally, though the word had yet to be spoken between us. Walking around town with him and introducing him to my friends made me proud.

We had important things in common too, other than an enthusiasm for rather athletic sex. We'd met while hiking my favorite trail, the one to Backbone Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. It wasn't a well known or popular hike, and I had often found myself walking it alone, but not since I'd met Hank. We tried to get up there together at least one weekend a month in the summer.

Hank stopped snoring and let out a kind of snort, wafting another unwelcome gust of odor my way, and I reached down and pinched his nipple.

"Hey!" he yelped. "What the…?" Then those big eyes opened, and he smiled. "Hey, Robb. Good morning." His smile melted a little, and he rubbed the nipple I'd tweaked. "Next time, maybe you could start with a kiss or something?"

I reached up and wordlessly closed my nostrils with a finger and thumb.

"Oh, right," he said.

He got up quickly and went into the bathroom, giving me a nice view of his sweetly rounded tush, and I heard him pour some mouthwash into a paper cup and gargle for a few seconds. Then he was back.

"Better now?" he asked softly, bending over and breathing into my face, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine. All I could smell now was mint and nice warm man.

"Mm-hmm," I agreed, pulling him down that last bit to make it a kiss. Which led to other things.

It never seemed to matter who was on top. Either way, it was the best sex I'd ever had.

Afterward, we both needed a shower, and then Hank had to get to his computer job at the hospital, and I made my way downtown to the office I shared with another accountant.

Around noon, I got a text from Hank. Dinner at my place? I'll cook.

Absolutely! I replied. I didn't ask him what would be on the menu, because I knew he loved to surprise me. I did go easy on lunch, though. Hank was a great cook. Much better than me.

The dinner invitation reminded me of the day we met.

The moon had been almost full on that Saturday, and I decided I wanted to be outdoors to see it, as well as far away from the city. It was still a little cool in the mountains, but I figured it would be sunny and warm enough Sunday morning for me to take my favorite hike. So I packed up my camping gear Friday night after work, slept in a little, and was ready to roll late the next morning.

It was almost noon when I reached the small campground below the trail, and the sky was overcast, but I set the tent up quickly and began to think about lunch.

About that time, I noticed another tent set up on the other side of the campground. The glow of banked coals was noticeable in the fire pit, and a breeze brought me the smell of something tasty.

I didn't see anyone around, and it occurred to me that my neighbor might be off hiking or even asleep. I shrugged, set up my tent, and laid out my sleeping bag and stuff and was just about to open a can of something when I heard a voice.

"Hey, buddy. You hungry? Cause I sure am, and lunch is ready."

It was a nice baritone voice, and I glanced over. Nice body to go along with the voice, I thought, noting the well-shaped silhouette.

"I'm starved," I replied, and the man beckoned me over.

"Hank Granger," he said, sticking out his hand.

He looked to be about my age and height and worth a second glance, with broad shoulders in a red plaid shirt and lean hips in blue jeans. He had thick dark hair and brown eyes that seemed to shine with gold flecks in the occasional ray of sun.

"Robb Anderson," I said, taking his hand, which was warm and strong. I tried not to hold on to it for as long as I wanted to.

He pointed to a log bench close to the fire. "Sit down and I'll dish up some of this stew. You want a beer to go with it?"

I surely did. "Yeah, but let me get some out of my cooler. Be right back."

He was bent over when I returned, ladling something thick out of a Dutch oven, and the view was just as nice as before. I hoped he was too busy to notice the thickening of my dick.

He wasn't cover-model handsome or even the best built guy I'd ever seen, but there was just something about him. I suppose it might have been his generous friendliness in offering me, a perfect stranger, a meal, but what I was thinking about wasn't food but sex, no idea why I should suddenly be so interested.

It wasn't that I didn't date, if by date you mean get laid, but my latest hookups were just that, and it had been a while since the last one. I just hadn't had the time. Hell, tax season had barely ended.

I set the beers on the table. "Smells good," I said, trying for casual.

Hank grinned when he handed me a bowl and spoon. "Yeah," he said, "some really good smells up here in the forest."

Damn, I liked the sideways tilt of his smile.

He rummaged around in his food box and came up with a round loaf of bread, then tore off two good-sized chunks and handed one to me. "Hope you don't mind. I forgot the bread knife," he said as he sat down across from me.

I shrugged, about to say something about roughing it, then forgot when I took a spoon of the stew. "Oh my God! What's in this?" I guess I'd expected plain fare, maybe even something canned, but the beef, vegetables, and herbs blended into a gourmet treat. Before he could answer, I bit into the bread, and it was just as delicious, whole grain with sunflower seeds and a chewy texture. "Did you make the bread too?"

I was staring at Hank, and he was blushing.

"Gee," he said, "the stew is just one of my mom's old recipes, and I like making bread. I work on a computer all day, and it's nice to come home and do something basic. We all have to eat. Why not enjoy it?"

My idea of food wasn't all takeout, but what I cooked was ordinary, and I'd never made bread in my life. I shook my head and smiled. "This is amazing. I came up here to enjoy the outdoors. I had no idea I'd be enjoying some great food too. Thanks for inviting me."

He smiled back a little shyly and picked up his own spoon. "Do you come up here often?" he asked after a few bites. Then he rolled his eyes. "Sorry. That's got to be the world's worst pickup line."

I raised my head, almost forgetting about the food for a moment. The blush was back on his cheeks, and he glanced at me quickly, then looked away. I feigned nonchalance.

"Oh, I don't know. It works for me."

His eyes seemed to catch the light of the fire when he looked back at me, and I felt a stir down low in my belly.

"Yeah?"

"Well, that and the food," I said, reaching for another hunk of bread. "And I do come here a lot. It's one of my favorite places."

Hank smiled. He went on to explain that he was meeting a group of friends Sunday night.

"They had other things to do this weekend, family obligations and stuff, but I decided I'd come up early."

"No family obligations?" I inquired.

He grinned. "Nope. I live alone, in case you're interested. Not even a goldfish."

I laughed. "Sounds like me."

We talked on, had another bowl of stew and a couple more beers. At some point I moved around the table to sit next to Hank and stare into the fire, and before I knew it the sun was sinking behind the hills. Hank switched on a lantern. The moon was probably behind us, lost in the trees, but it was the last thing on my mind then.

"You planning to hike the trail tomorrow morning?" I asked softly.

He reached out and gently ran the backs of his fingers down the side of my face, staring into my eyes in the semidarkness of the lantern on low. "With you? Yeah, I'd like that."

* * *

The food had been excellent, but that night's dessert was the best part of the evening. Lying on Hank's sleeping bag with mine over the top, kissing and caressing and exploring everything we could without benefit of the condoms or lube neither of us had imagined we might need. After a long while, I sighed and ran my palm over Hank's hairy chest.

"I guess it's true what they say about good cooks making good lovers," I said sleepily.

"You're not so bad yourself," he replied, nuzzling my ear. "I'm sure glad I decided to drive up early."

* * *

The next morning was my first introduction to Hank's halitosis, but coffee took care of it pretty quickly. I didn't really care about anything so minor after the night we'd shared.

We talked as we walked up the trail, and I mentioned my reason for being there.

"The idea was to see the moon," I said. "It wasn't quite full, but I thought it would be nice to see it out here, where there are no lights like in the city." I chuckled. "Guess I missed seeing it, though. Got distracted." I punched him lightly in the arm, and he drew closer, leaning in for a kiss.

"Sorry about that. You could stay tonight, though…."

"Wish I could, but I have to head home soon. Don't you have to work on Monday?"

He frowned. "I took a couple of days off. I'm sorry you missed this one, but at least you know there'll be another full moon in a few weeks."

I grinned. "Last night was nothing to apologize for. I can see the moon anytime."

I took his hand and we walked a little farther, crossing a small creek on a log bridge.

"You know, later this year there's going to be a blue moon."

He glanced at me. "Yeah? The moon's going to turn blue?"

I shook my head. "Are you serious? You don't know about blue moons?"

He shrugged. "Never saw one."

I snorted. "A blue moon is what you call it when there are two full moons in the same month. You know, like 'once in a blue moon,' because it doesn't happen very often."

"Yeah, I guess. But the moon is really full for one day on either side of what the calendar says, so maybe there are more 'blue moons' than people think. Figured like that, tonight is probably a 'blue moon.'"

I was about to ask him where he got that idea when a deer ran out of a glade in front of us. Hank went perfectly still to watch and put a hand on my arm when I reached for my phone to take a picture. But even that small movement must have spooked the animal, because it raised its head and bounded into the brush.

"Beautiful," I said.

Hank just said, "Yep," and we walked on.

By the end of the hike we'd made plans to see each other the following Friday.

* * *

That date went so well it got to where we were getting together two or three times a week. He had an odd work schedule, and mine was strictly nine to five, except for a little overtime around tax season, so we didn't always connect. We hiked my favorite trail and others when his work or mine didn't interfere, and our mutual love for the outdoors seemed to make us closer. I was trying to be cautious, but I'd never been with anyone I liked as well as Hank.

We really hadn't talked about moving in together, though I certainly thought about it. After all, we hadn't been dating that long, and I had the feeling the idea scared Hank. I'd been to his apartment, and it was tiny compared to the house my folks had given me, but every time I'd even hinted that there was a lot of extra room, he'd change the subject or distract me in some other more pleasant way, not that I complained.

I'd met his friends from work, even gone to the hospital employees' picnic as his date, which was weird but fun. I'd always been honest about my sexuality, and Hank seemed to be completely out and proud.

I figured he had family of some kind, but that was another subject he avoided. I didn't press, feeling there'd be plenty of time for such things, and my mom lived in Arizona and my sister and her husband were spending a year in Europe, so Hank meeting them would have to wait anyway.

* * *

Halloween was on a Saturday this year, and there would be a full moon too, that "blue" one I'd mentioned to Hank when we first met. Plus, the weather forecast was for unseasonably warm weather, even in the high country. It seemed like the perfect weekend, not only for a hike but to camp there at my favorite lake. Imagine my disappointment when Hank said he had to work.

"Are you kidding? Couldn't you swap shifts with someone else? Surely the hospital computers won't explode if you're not there?"

"I'm sorry, Robb. It's a really important upgrade to the system, and I have to be there."

"Well, when do you finish work? We can go up later, still have time to get to the camping spot. It will be light for a long time that night."

He walked over and put an arm around my shoulders. "I'm sorry, babe. I really can't. I don't know how long it will take. I might be there most of the night."

I shrugged, and his arm fell away. "What about Sunday?" I didn't want to postpone the hike, but Sunday might be almost as good.

He frowned. "Geez, I'll probably need to catch up on my sleep."

He moved closer again and reached for me, but I backed away a pace. He stopped and shook his head.

"Look, it can't be helped." He brightened a little. "Hey, maybe we can go the following weekend, okay?"

I sighed. "Sure. It isn't that important anyway."

But it was, to me. Still, I didn't want to be the kind of boyfriend who expected his partner to drop everything for his whims. It was just that this seemed so perfect. I rarely got to hike my favorite trail this late in the year, and a full moon would have made it really special.

I liked the fall landscape, with the mountain aspens turning red and gold, but Halloween had never been my favorite holiday, and I wouldn't miss the crowds of trick-or-treaters dressed in silly costumes.

We went on with our day as we'd planned, but the usual ease was gone, and I pleaded tiredness after dinner and went home alone.

We went out for dinner again Friday night and even had sex with most of our usual fervor. We made plans for Monday after work, but Hank went home afterward, saying he wanted to get some sleep and be ready for work the next day. That suited me. I'd decided, if Hank didn't want to camp out with me on Halloween, I'd go alone, and at least hike the trail and stay long enough to see the moon rise.

It wasn't like Hank and I were joined at the hip or anything. We'd both had other commitments from time to time. It was just that I was beginning to think of us as a real couple, the kind that does things together because they enjoy each other's company….

I sighed. I really was becoming a whiny bitch.

I decided I wouldn't mention my plans to Hank. When we got together on Monday, I'd just casually let him know what a good time he'd missed.

* * *

The clearing was breathtaking. Moonlight touched the tall grass with silver, and the lake rippled in the breeze, a long, shivering moon path spread from shore to shore. I snapped several photos with my phone camera, but I knew they'd never capture the totality of nature's perfection or the atmosphere of calm and ethereal beauty. I wished now that I had brought camping gear. I imagined lying in my sleeping bag, watching as the moon moved over me and sank behind the peaks. I marveled as an owl glided over my head on silent wings.

That was when I heard the snuffling.

There was a grove of trees about a hundred yards away, on my left. As I glanced that way, I thought I could see darker shapes moving in the shadowed undergrowth. My heart rate picked up a little, but I'd often seen deer and knew there were whole herds of them in these mountains, and I'd read that it was common enough for them to graze at night, if there was enough light to see by.

Did deer snuffle?

Then three large deer broke out of the trees and ran across the clearing. They were moving fast, their small hooves barely denting the grass as they ran, occasionally leaping high and far. Behind them came six smaller shapes, darker and low to the ground, stretched out with tongues lolling, ears back, and thick tails held low. Wolves.

That was impossible, but they just couldn't be coyotes, even though I knew the National Park Service had banned the reintroduction of the species. They were too large, too majestically beautiful. Seeing them lifted my heart in a way I couldn't explain, but I wasn't surprised to feel a chill run down my spine.

Wolves could be dangerous, and I was out here alone….

Hardly daring to breathe, I stood perfectly still. Soon the pack would disappear into the trees with the deer, and I could turn around and hike back to the car. I knew I had at least a twenty-minute walk ahead of me.

All at once the wolves stopped, leaving the deer to crash into the underbrush. As though at a signal, they all turned and stared in my direction. One by one they lifted their heads, and I could feel the breeze behind me, blowing my scent their way.

What could I do? My backpack contained only granola bars, water, a flashlight, and a heavy jacket. No weapon of any kind, not even a whistle that might frighten them away.

They stood their ground and I stood mine, no longer seeing the trees or the grass or the lake, only the moonlight as it silvered the thick pelts on the wolves' bodies.

Then one wolf broke away from the others with a sudden sharp bark. To my horror, it began to walk, then run toward me.

I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. Did I run? Fall to the ground and play dead? My mind was a blank.

But before the first wolf had taken three strides, another darker wolf ran after it and soon caught up, then slammed into the first wolf with a fierce growl.

I stood, rooted to the spot as the wolves fought, stunned by the savage barks and snaps, horrified by the glimpses of long white teeth that could just as easily have been at my throat.

After what seemed like hours, one wolf rolled onto his back and lay still. The other nosed around him, then took hold of the fur on the fallen wolf's neck and gave it a brutal shake. The shaken wolf didn't move.

The rest of the watching pack melted back into the trees, and the victorious wolf lifted his head in a triumphant howl that raised goose bumps all down my spine. It was time for me to retreat-and fast.

I backed away, barely conscious of the weight of the pack somehow still on my back. I watched the wolf as he again nosed his victim, unable to take my eyes off him, and all at once his head turned my way and I stared directly into those inhuman eyes.

I wanted to turn and run, but I knew he would outdistance me in a minute. The primitive, panicked part of my mind was whimpering and gibbering that I was going to die, while some cool fragment stood quietly to one side, thinking what an amazing end it would be to be killed by a wolf, a creature of the wild.

Most of me still wanted to live, though, and I backed away faster, praying a root or rock wouldn't trip me and that the wolf would stay where it was and let me escape.

And then it lifted its head again, and I thought it sniffed the air. Leaping easily over the carcass on the ground, the wolf loped in my direction.

My heart now thundering in my throat, I backed faster and faster, amazed that I was still on the path. It only took a few seconds for the wolf to cover the distance between us, and when it was ten feet away, it launched itself upward in a perfect leap-straight at me.

I won't say my life flashed before my eyes, but I did have time for thoughts of my mom and sister, but most of all for Hank. All at once I knew I loved him… and now I'd never have the chance to tell him.

The huge creature's forefeet hit me first, and I went backward like a falling tree, my breath going out in a whoosh as I landed hard.

I thrust my fingers into the thick ruff around the wolf's neck, thinking to try to hold those shining teeth away from my throat, and suddenly, like a big and bumbling puppy, it licked my face. I was acutely conscious of the massive weight on my chest, the heat of its breath as it panted….

Wait…. Its breath? Could it be somehow familiar? Yes, I knew that smell. I couldn't be mistaken.

"Hank…?" I said wonderingly.

I swear the wolf smiled.

* * *

He had followed me back to my car without fuss and jumped happily into the passenger seat, where he fit quite well, though I couldn't figure how to fasten the seat belt around him. I kept glancing over as I drove, part of me certain I was insane to be driving around in the middle of the night with a wild animal in the car. For his part, every once in a while he put a paw gently on my leg, and twice he swiped my cheek with his huge wet tongue, all the while filling the car with the noxious scent of wolf breath. After a while, I didn't really it notice anymore.

No matter what doubts or fears I had, his warmth was still there when I reached out to stroke the thick, soft fur.

We arrived at my house at last, and I got a big bowl from the kitchen and filled it with water for the wolf. He must have been dry after all that panting, because he drank about half a gallon.

I also offered him some fried chicken I found leftover in the fridge, but he didn't seem interested. I tried not to think about what he might have had for dinner in the forest.

I lit a fire in the gas logs and poured myself some brandy because the night seemed chilly, either because the temperature had dropped or because I was still a little shaky.

The wolf curled up in front of the blaze. He seemed to like it there and was soon snoring softly.

I sat in my armchair, wrapped myself in a blanket, and watched him, my mind an I-have-no-idea-what-to-think blank.

* * *

A short while before dawn, when the moon went down, the wolf stirred, and after an amazing few minutes of transformation and some gruesome sound effects, Hank sat up and spoke to me.

"I'm sorry, baby. I should have told you, but I just couldn't think how."

I studied him. "A werewolf," I said finally, "on Halloween?"

Then I burst into tears.

Hank came and put his arms around me.

* * *

It turned out that Hank hadn't always been working when he said we couldn't get together.

"You see," he explained, sitting in front of the fire with me, both of us now wrapped in the blanket, "we only have to change on the middle night of the full moon, but it's easy to change the night before and after too, and my pack gets together to spend those nights in the woods."

I thought about that for a while, picturing Hank and his pack mates running and playing and hunting and….

"Hey!" I said, suddenly remembering. "You fought that wolf to the death for me! I heard him snarling and yelping in pain."

Hank smiled sheepishly. "Nah, that was my cousin Randy. He snarls a lot, but he's kind of a wimp. It's not the first time I've fought him or the first time I've won. He knew better than to get up before I left." He brightened. "Hey, I'll introduce you. You can meet the whole family now."

I blinked. A whole family… of werewolves.

"Umm… what are they going to think of me?"

"Because you're not one of us, you mean? They won't care, as long as I'm happy. And it's not unheard of for one of us to mate with a human. Sometimes the kids are like us, sometimes not. It really doesn't matter." He raised his eyebrows. "And if you want kids, maybe somebody's mate will have a big litter and we can adopt one."

He grinned-dare I say it?-wolfishly.

I couldn't help it. I giggled.

Then it hit me. "Hank," I said slowly, "are you proposing to me?"

He blushed. "Um… I did say 'mate,' didn't I. Um… I guess I am. Will you?"

I grabbed his face with both hands and gazed into those beautiful golden eyes. "You bet your furry tail," I said and kissed him.

* * *

I sighed as I watched Hank sleeping next morning, then sniffed when he opened his eyes-and his mouth.

"Halloween's over," I said, smiling. "And if you'll move in with me, that will take care of my Thanksgiving for the year."

He grinned and tried to kiss me. I drew back.

"At least I know what to get you for Christmas"-I wrinkled my nose and waved a hand in front of my face-"a case of mouthwash."

He laughed, then took my hand and led me back out into the living room and over to the fireplace, the spot where he'd lain before he'd changed back and we'd gone to bed. He pointed to the hearth. As if to reinforce the reality of my memory, clumps of long brown wolf hair were plainly visible on the beige and white braided rug.

"You sure you want to keep me around, even knowing…?"

I'd done all my thinking about that last night, and it hadn't taken very long at all.

"Absolutely," I said, holding his eyes with mine.

He let go my hand and reached into a drawer in a side table.

"Then I know what I'm getting you for Christmas. A case of these."

Grinning, he held up an extra large lint roller.

* * *

It was early, and we visited the bathroom, then got back into bed, Hank snuffling comfortably down next to me, and having him in my arms felt better than Christmas.

"I'm so glad I found you, love," I whispered, not really expecting him to hear me. "Guys like you only come along once in a lifetime."

Hank yawned and snuggled even closer. "No," he mumbled, temporarily sweet breath along my cheek, "twice in a blue moon."