Elle
“Aren’t you going to put that on?” she asked as they headed out into the night, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she was hit with the cold air once more. She hated winter so much!
“Put what on? This?” he asked, lifting the jacket he held in one hand.
“Yeah.”
“Um, I guess I could,” he said. “If it would make you feel better. I’ll be honest… I mainly just wore it so that I didn’t look horrifically out of place.”
“You don’t feel cold even in this?” She was surprised; the weather was well below freezing and although she knew that shifters didn’t feel cold the same, tonight was cold.
“Not particularly. I mean, I can tell that it’s not the middle of summer, of course. I think, if I were to try and provide a comparison, that I feel like maybe a slightly cooler fall day, something like that?”
“Must be nice,” she muttered. “I’m freezing my ass off over here.”
Braden coughed rather violently.
“Are you okay?” she asked, stopping to turn and look at him. “Are you choking on something?”
He recovered quickly, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said just a little too quickly. He was hiding something.
“Oh really? Then what was that all about?”
Braden looked around for way out, but when he didn’t see one he looked back at her. “Um, preventing myself from saying the first thing that came to mind, if you must know.”
“And what was that?” she asked.
He shook his head rapidly back and forth.
Elle crossed her arms. She let her expression remain light, but firm enough that he knew she wanted an answer.
The big shifter sighed. “You really want me to tell you?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” she returned.
“Fine. I was preventing myself from saying ‘I certainly hope not.’”
Elle laughed. “That’s right, I’d forgotten you got a nice eyeful of my ass on the ice rink!”
Her comments made him blush, which made her laugh even more.
“Hey, you were the one that wanted to twirl around to show it off for me,” he finally managed to get out.
“That was not the point of it,” she said fiercely, but even Elle could tell that her denial sounded rather unconvincing.
Braden, wisely, just smiled and nodded.
“Okay, let’s go. Enough talk about my rear end. Let’s eat! I’m starving!”
“You and I both.”
They resumed walking. Elle was having a hard time believing that Braden wasn’t cold, but at the same time, she didn’t want to call him a liar. And why, if he was cold, didn’t he put the jacket back on? Finally her curiosity got the better of her. Taking off a glove, she reached out and touched him, placing her palm on his arm.
He jerked slightly at the unexpected contact, but kept walking. Elle, meanwhile, felt the heat from his skin radiating outward, warming her hand almost instantly. Several rather crude thoughts entered her mind in quick succession, but she fought them off, continuing to walk down the sidewalk next to him. Her arm drooped as she considered how amazing being that warm all the time would be.
Before she realized it, she’d found his hand with hers. Almost automatically their fingers interlaced. Elle inhaled sharply at the natural feel to it all, but for some reason that she wasn’t aware of, she didn’t pull her hand back, instead choosing to let it stay in his grip. Braden, for his part, didn’t do a damn thing. He kept walking, his head facing forward. She could see in the set of his jaw though that he was also unsure of the entire situation.
This was the second time now that they had ended up holding hands unexpectedly, and neither of them seemed to know how to react to it.
Screw it, she thought. If it kept happening on its own, then maybe she should stop fighting it and just go with it. After all, they were on a date. What was wrong with holding hands? It was a perfectly natural thing to do.
And besides, I can steal some of his warmth this way!
A sudden thought occurred to her. “How do you deal with the heat?” she asked.
Braden’s shoulders rose and fell. “You’ll notice that we aren’t among the tropics. Or that there aren’t any shifter territories in overly hot or humid areas of the planet.”
Thinking it over, she realized that as far as her knowledge of shifter strongholds was concerned, he was right. None of them were even remotely close to the equator. Most of them were in mountainous or northern climes, like Cloud Lake. Interesting, she’d never considered that before.
“Yeah,” he said, obviously watching her face as she thought it over. “We’re not big fans of the extreme heat. It’s a little oppressive. I much prefer cooler, wetter, hillier areas.” His arms spread wide. “Kind of like Cloud Lake.”
There was an odd note to his words that gave voice to her next question. “You sound almost…I don’t know, surprised, to be saying that?”
He shrugged again, the motion lifting and lowering her hand where they were joined. “Honestly, I didn’t think I was going to like it all that much when I first got here. But, now that I’m here, I don’t find it too bad.”
“There’s a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one. ‘Come to Cloud Lake! It’s not too bad,’” she said with a laugh.
He chuckled alongside her. “Well, I guess when you put it that way it sounds a little worse, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, maybe a tad,” she said, holding up her hand, her index finger and thumb held close so that there was only a tiny gap between them. “Just a bit.”
“Well, there are certain parts of it that are growing on me.” The look that accompanied his words was very direct and made it very clear just what “part” he was referring to.
“I’m glad I can make it a little less painful for you,” she giggled, telling herself not to blush. Which of course meant she blushed thoroughly, falling silent.
They walked the rest of the way to dinner like that, a comfortable silence that neither of them felt the need to break. She was surprised how relaxed it felt, just moving along the mostly empty streets. Something about Braden allowed her to feel at ease with…everything really, while he was around. She wasn’t sure how to interpret it, but she liked it.
The restaurant itself wasn’t overly fancy, which she appreciated, but also wasn’t overrun with screaming children. There was a time and place for such establishments, but tonight she wanted something a little quieter. Someplace they could talk, and the little Italian-style place had a real homey feel to it that was just perfect.
“May I ask you a personal question?” he asked after they were seated and their order taken.
“Uh, sure, I guess? I mean, I might not answer if it’s too personal, but you can go ahead and ask.”
He nodded. “I have to confess as to being curious about your story.”
“My story?” She was confused.
“Yes. You know, who you are, where you’re from, how you ended up with the Institute. Your story.”
“Ah, that story,” she said, sitting back and munching on a bite of the fresh bread that was served with their drinks. It had come with cinnamon butter. Cinnamon butter. She wanted all of it, but that would have been…rude.
“If you don’t want to tell me it’s fine, you don’t have to,” he said, waving the question off.
“No no,” she said. “I don’t mind. It’s not that fancy, truth be told. Sort of a set of circumstances that all came together at once really.”
Braden leaned back in his seat, showing her that he was ready to listen, a piece of bread disappearing equally as quickly in front of him. It was good.
“I grew up poor. My parents scraped and scrimped and cut corners and did everything they could to provide a good childhood for me. It wasn’t until I was in my later teens that I realized just how little we had, and how much they gave up to try and provide me with the illusion that we weren’t that poor.”
She smiled tightly. “Then my dad hit it lucky with the lotto and ran out on my mom the instant he had the money. It wasn’t one of the mega jackpots, but enough that he could get a fresh start somewhere else. I was two weeks away from my sixteenth birthday when that happened. And no, he didn’t send me a present.”
The nostrils and eyes of the oversized shifter flared angrily, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt her.
She smiled and waved it off. “I’m over it now, though it hurt at the time. I’ll never forgive him, but on that messed-up internal level, I can understand. I get it. I don’t agree, but I can see why he did it. Though if I ever see him again I’m going to break his nose, you can bet on that.”
Braden smiled.
“Anyway, I got a job, started working, all that stuff. Finished high school, but college was absolutely out of the question. So, I just kept working. I got all the free certificates I could, all that sort of stuff, but it was never really enough.” She sucked in a slightly shaky breath. “Then my mother died. That was four years ago. I was lost, had nowhere to go, didn’t really know what to do with my life. I went home, got really, really drunk, and started binge-watching tv. We couldn’t afford cable and internet, but Netflix is a godsend. We had a shared laptop, a really old thing, but it could still run Netflix.”
Elle ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the slight waves she’d imparted to it with her curler, trying not to ruin them as she stress fidgeted. “The next morning, I hit something on the computer to try and get it to play the next episode, and it brought up a webpage. There was a big ad for the Institute. I was drunk, I read it, and I guess I signed up. Got an email saying I was approved, to be at this location on this day.”
Braden was nodding along, the bread long gone. He took a sip of beer now before speaking. “And the rest, I suppose is, as they say, history?”
“Yep,” she agreed. “Went to their facility, was matched with a decent-looking shifter. Boom, baby. First try.” She pondered it all for a moment. “You know, I’m not happy how it went down, or that I signed up, but if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have given me Gwenevere.”
A brief frown crossed her date’s face before realization dawned. “Gwenevere,” he said, repeating the name. “That’s your daughter’s name?”
She nodded.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you. She’s a beautiful little girl. I can’t wait to see how she grows.”
“With you as a mother, I’m sure she’ll blossom into a wonderful human being.”
Elle blushed at the compliment, but was saved by the food. “Ah, dinner!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah, can I ask you another question?” he said as the plates of pasta and meatballs were set down in front of him, and the handmade pizza in front of her.
“I suppose? But make it quick,” she said, gesturing at the food.
“It’s more of a favor, really.”
“What’s that?” She was curious now.
“Don’t judge me while I eat? I’m famished.”
She laughed and picked up the pair of scissors that she was to use to cut the crust. “Only if that’s a two-way street.”
“Done!” he said without hesitation, the first bite disappearing into his maw.
Elle focused on her own food, the two of them eating in silence. There would be plenty more time for conversation post-dinner, she was sure.