“Let me get that,” I said, rushing around him to gather them up.
“It’s okay.” He leaned back.
I tugged. “No, really, I can move them.”
He leaned back harder. “No.”
“But these aren’t clean.”
“They’re better,” he said. “They smell like you.”
I stopped and stood back, horrified. “Like, in a bad way?”
“There is nothing bad about the way you smell.”
A rush of excitement laced through me. I walked over to the chair opposite him, scooted the clothes over, and sat on the edge of the seat. My throat still burned, but I think it was more from the coughing and gagging than the tequila.
“So you can smell as well as you can hear?”
He kept his glittering gaze locked onto mine. “Wolf.”
“Right.” And he was a wolf because of me. Because I’d used one of the noble beasts to bring him out of the veil. He’d been killed—by his sadistic father, no less—when he was five. I was three. At his traumatized mother’s behest, I’d used my magics to find him, but I was too late. His father had already taken his life.
I brought him back, but to do so, I had to use something living near him. And that happened to be a wolf pup his father had captured.
Thus, a wolf shifter was born. Something that, until a few days ago—or months, depending on how much sleep one got—I would never have dreamed was possible.
An actual shifter. A werewolf… in a non-horror-movie kind of way.
“So,” I said, suddenly at a loss for words, possibly because I wanted nothing more than to crawl onto his lap and plant my mouth on his. “How have you been?”
His gaze slid over me as though out for a leisurely stroll. “Better after the coughing fit you just had.”
My face warmed. “Sorry about that.” I gave him two thumbs up. “All better now.”
“You misunderstand.” He took another sip, smiling wickedly from behind the tumbler before continuing. “I knew you had a nice ass, but damn.”
“Oh.” The warmth on my face turned into an inferno. I tugged at the hem of my T-shirt again. “Thank you. Would you like it?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
“Yes.” His expression turned appreciative, but he kept the tumbler in his hand. Made no move toward me or any move to suggest he wanted me to come to him.
If I were brave, I would walk over and straddle him on the chair. Sadly, I’d never been known for my bravado. Broccoli salad, yes. Bravado? Not so much. I bit my lower lip and said instead, “Then it’s yours.”
“Always.”
I glanced back. “Always?”
“That’s why I’m here.” He set the tumbler aside at last, leaned forward onto his elbows, and steepled his fingers. “I think we need to be honest with each other.”
My stomach clenched again, painfully this time. I was so bad with honesty, and this conversation was not going in the direction I’d hoped.
“I’ve never been good at sharing,” he continued.
“Oh… okay.” Again, not the direction I was expecting, but…
“I want you all to myself.”
My lungs stopped working.
He tilted his head and studied me before adding, “Forever.”
That sounded ominous. “Say, you’ve never been a serial killer, have you?”
“Wolves mate for life.”
Ah. Of course they did. And I was up for mating. So very up for mating.
He lowered his voice, and said, “I want to know everything about you.”
That was just asking for trouble. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
This could take some time. “Could we maybe narrow that down a bit?”
He pierced me with a stare so glitteringly intent, it took my breath away. “Everything.”
I swallowed hard. “You already know me better than most.”
“I want more.”
“More Patrón?” I guessed.
“More of you.”
I held out my hands, acquiescing. “I’m all yours.”
He leaned closer and softly tapped an index finger on my temple. “I want in.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to be let past the gates. You can keep the wall up.” He leaned back again. “I’m fine with that. I understand it better than most. I just want to be on the other side of it. With you.”
Frustration grated along my nerve endings. “Look, I want you. And you want me, right?” When he gave me the barest hint of a nod, I said, “Then I don’t get the problem.”
“I’m selfish. I want all of you. Not just your body.” He dropped his gaze to my chest. “I want that.”
“My boobs?” I looked down at them, then back. “Hon, they are all yours.”
“I want your heart.”
“Trust me, my heart is nothing to write home about.”
“I’ve done my homework.”
I sank back into my chair and covered my face with my hands. “There was homework? No one told me.”
“A charmling and her mate have an unbreakable bond. Whoever she chooses is hers for life.”
I peeked from between my fingers as he spoke.
“I want to be the one you choose.”
“Then we don’t have a problem. Done. I choose you.” I held out my hand to seal the deal.
He smiled. “Not hardly. Marry me.”
My jaw hit the floor. I was certain of it. He could’ve thumped me on the head with a paper towel tube and I would’ve been less surprised. Shock ricocheted from nerve ending to nerve ending like electricity arcing over my skin. “I… I don’t understand.”
The subtle grin that softened his features sent a pang of longing straight to my core. “It’s this ceremony where two people who really like each other stand in front of an officiate and make a promise—”
“I know what marriage is.” I stood and paced along the floor in front of the windows. “Trust me, Roane. I’ve been through two and… and you do not know what you’re asking.”
“I think I do.”
I stopped and gave him my best warning glare. “No. Really. You don’t.”
“I’ve had six months to think about it.”
“Yes, and I was unconscious for most of those six months.” Unfortunately, those six months had not been a vacation. They’d been filled with a malevolent darkness. A nightmarish ogre stalking me to the farthest reaches of my mind. If Percy hadn’t kept me safe, I didn’t know what would’ve become of me. “Technically, we’ve only known each other for a few days.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I hesitated but only for a moment. “I do.”
He leaned back against a barely worn Arizona Coyotes jersey. “You know as well as I do, we’ve known each other for years. Decades, actually.”
Was he talking about when we were kids? When I’d turned the wolf into the boy? Or… or did he remember at last? Not just the fact that he would steal into my dreams as the wolf when we were kids, when he would show affection by licking my fingers. We’d clearly bonded psychically when I brought him out of the veil. But I’d come to realize there was more to it.