Chapter Sixteen
Will waited in the darkness. The air felt like snow, although nothing had fallen yet. Just that quiet expectation. The temperature in the cab of his truck was dropping quickly, but he would wait as long as he had to.
The lights in Ellie’s house glowed with warmth, and he could hear the sounds of female conversation and laughter. Ellie sounded happy. He wanted that for her—her happiness. Her contentment.
After another hour or so, her front door opened and Summer and Hayley left the house. Ellie waved goodbye to them. Her feminine form looked soft and ravishable in a pair of leggings and a long, button-up shirt that fell gently over her curves. Her simple beauty nearly took his breath away. In all of his experiments with photography, his work with lines, angles, color, design, he’d never seen such perfection. When he created something, he was always looking for the “aha” feeling that he got from a perfect design. He rarely found it, because his clients rarely gave him enough time.
But without any effort at all, Ellie was a perfect design.
Once Summer and Hayley were safely in Hayley’s Bug and motoring down the street, Will got out of his truck and made his way to Ellie’s door. He rang the doorbell.
Ellie’s footsteps approached from the other side, and she called through the door, “You forgot your leftovers, didn’t you?”
“It’s Will,” he said.
Silence on the other side. Would she answer? He wanted to break down the door and make her listen to him, but that wasn’t his way. After a long moment, the door slowly opened.
Will stood before her, not sure what to say now that he was facing her. Instead, the scent of her—woman, hot chocolate, cinnamon—nearly knocked him over. Or rather, made him want to fall into her.
“I’m mad at you,” she said, standing in the doorway, all five feet and two inches of her trying to take up the entire frame.
Will raised his eyebrows. “I know.”
Huffing impatiently, Ellie turned around and walked back into the house, leaving the door open behind her.
“You have until I’m done getting ready for bed,” she said over her shoulder. Then she continued down the hallway, lifting her shirt over her head to reveal a black camisole underneath.
“I’m supposed to talk to you while you get ready for bed?” Will asked.
“I’m busy. Be happy with what I’m giving you.” Her head was still inside the blouse. “Crap.” She yanked on the fabric. “Stupid freaking buttons are caught in my stupid freaking hair.”
“Your hair is gorgeous,” he said, stepping forward. “Can I help?”
“Yeah, you would like to help undress me, wouldn’t you?” she asked, her voice angry.
“Yeah, I would.”
“I’m tired, Will. I feel old and tired.”
“I’m sorry.” He stepped forward and gently pulled her blouse down around her neck, so he could untangle the offending button from her hair. Those dark brown locks felt soft against his hands, and her scent was intoxicating. But beneath the feminine cinnamon and chocolate smell was something darker, more sorrowful.
“You’re sad,” he said.
She sighed. “You could always tell how I’m feeling.”
He freed her from the button, and helped lift the shirt over her head.
“Stay out here,” she said, frowning at him. “I’m going to take off my bra and get into comfy pants and a sweatshirt. You can talk through the door.”
He stayed in the hallway like she asked. She didn’t close her bedroom door, but he didn’t peer in and instead gave her the privacy she wanted. Just hearing clothes rustling was giving him ideas, but he mentally instructed his cock to calm the fuck down. His mate was sad, and if she wanted him to keep his distance, he would.
“So?” she said. “Are you going to talk, or what?”
“I don’t want to be away from you,” he said. “I’m not going to leave again.”
“Forgive me if I don’t exactly trust you right now.”
More rustling from inside her room. Quickly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded papers he’d brought with him. Straightening them out, he took a couple steps down the hallway and placed them on the bathroom counter where she’d be sure to see them soon. Maybe she didn’t want to talk, but he could at least show her, in his own way, how he felt.
She emerged from the room looking rumpled and soft and oh-so-cuddly in a pair of sweats and an old college sweatshirt that hung on her.
He couldn’t resist. Stepping forward, he pulled her into a hug. She nestled her head against his chest, even while saying, “I still don’t forgive you.”
“Fair enough.” He led her to the living room and found the television remote control.
“So you’re just settling in now like you own the place?” she asked, staring up at him.
“Maybe. You complaining?” The overhead lights were too bright, so he looked around for the switch and turned them off.
She picked at the fraying wrist of her sweatshirt. “I guess not.”
He lay down on the couch and tugged her hand until she sat, leaning half against him.
“That’s not going to work,” he said. He found a couple of throw pillows and settled one beneath his head, then set the other next to him. “This is your spot.”
“What are we doing?”
He ignored her skeptical look and flipped channels until he found one of those nature shows that had all the beautiful cinematography. “We’re cuddling,” he said. “Or we will be, when you decide to cooperate.”
“I don’t know about this.” But she tilted over until she lay next to him, her back to his front, her curvy ass pressed against his groin.
He reached behind him for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and pulled it over them, making sure Ellie was all tucked in. She smelled so good, his Ellie. Holding her like this felt so right. She liked having her forehead rubbed, he remembered. When she was feeling tired or stressed, he’d move his thumbs in little circles above and between her eyebrows, and she’d just melt.
Tentatively, he reached over her and began to massage her forehead. She melted further into him.
“What’re we watching?” she asked sleepily.
“Animal show.”
“Like Jackson’s a predator?”
Will froze. “What?”
“Something Summer said. Hayley said it was a weird pet name. Hope I’m not breaking any confidences. Keep rubbing my forehead.”
She sounded sleepy and cuddly, not suspicious. Will resumed her little forehead massage.
He would have to tell her about shapeshifters, eventually. Soon, more likely. She’d need to know what she was getting into if she accepted him as her mate. She was it for him; there’d never be another. But if she rejected him, she could find someone else, and even be happy.
Whatever she chose, he hoped she’d be happy.
A small, black and white cat came out from under the couch and put its front paws on the edge next to Summer.
“Who’s this?” Will asked.
“Fido.”
He held in his chuckle. “Cute.”
“Yeah. I’m surprised he came out.” Her voice was a sleepy murmur. “Doesn’t usually talk to strangers.”
Will wanted to say, I’m not a stranger, but Ellie’s breathing had already grown even and deep. Poor woman was exhausted.
So Will kept silent and waited while Fido sniffed the air before jumping up on Ellie’s legs. The little cat walked up and down her, his attention on Will.
As a shapeshifter, Will knew he smelled different to animals. He was, just like Jackson and Hayley, a predator. He was no danger to pets, although Fido didn’t know that yet.
Fido looked at Will. Will looked at Fido. Fido hissed, his yellow eyes wide and filled with the kind of fear-hate cats were known for.
Will ignored him and snuggled closer to Ellie. After a minute, Fido walked back down to Ellie’s feet and curled up at her ankles on the side opposite Will.
Will couldn’t fall asleep yet, so he watched the movie, his gaze unfocused. Several Interstellar Love Connection graphic novels were stacked on a side table. They looked well-worn, well-loved. He hoped he’d made the right call with the drawings he’d made for her. She’d find them soon, he hoped, and then she’d understand he was in this for good.
She made a small sound and wiggled a little bit, getting more comfortable. Then her breath returned to her even sleep-breaths. Will reached for the remote control and flipped off the television, then slept, curled around his mate.
There was no better place in the entire universe.