Chapter Eight
To Bianca’s delight, Cage not only prepared dinner, he spent the night. He’d left only long enough to fetch his grill and haul it over to her place. He set up on her deck and prepared the best steaks she’d ever eaten. When he’d cooked up all four, along with some baked potatoes and vegetables, she’d never imagined eating a full one, much less putting away both. Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one with a huge appetite. He matched her bite for bite.
They talked, drank wine, ate good food, and then he just looked at her and it was like her skin was alive with heat, desire threading through every molecule in her body. She had no idea who reached for whom first, but they went from lounging on the deck to tumbling on the floor of her living room.
An hour later, they made it to the stairs. An hour after that, they were back in her bed. Where did Cage get his stamina? The man was a machine—and a devil between the sheets. It was still dark when she woke to find herself snug against him. He had an arm around her middle and his hand against her abdomen. It was a strangely possessive move that invaded her space, and yet she reveled in the wholly protective position.
His warmth at her back offered shelter. A shelter she needed because— She jerked her eyes open, startled. But why? Sleep fogged her brain; she’d been dreaming. No, she’d been trapped in a nightmare. Frozen in those moments in the jungle—a howl shrieking through the air. The unearthly sound followed by a blood-curdling scream. Pure terror had flooded through her, terror she’d refused to embrace because Collin had been there.
Awake, she replayed the horrible moments. With Cage at her back, it didn’t pit her stomach with dread even if a chill washed over her. Gunshots. Screams. Howls. Fear.
The hammer of her heart in her ears. She’d almost forgotten the sensation, or maybe she’d blocked it out. Their captor crashed inside, and he’d attacked her. Striking her, to get to Collin. He’d wanted to take her out of the equation. No way she could let that happen…
Staring into the dark of the room, Bianca traced her fingers against the back of Cage’s hand. Even the furnace-like heat pouring off him couldn’t chase away the chill. Something else had happened during her fight with their captor. He had her, his grip painful on her wrist—maybe that was when her wrist had been broken.
Then an image flashed across her mind’s eye.
One moment she fought, the next, her captor locked one hand around her throat as he wrenched her arm at an awkward angle. Tears filled her eyes as sharp pain ripped through her. Then the man was off her and a snarling filled the cabin, a sound so dark and reverberating it penetrated her adrenaline- and pain-fueled haze.
Her captor screamed as he went down. Bianca froze, cradling her wounded arm to her chest. The shadows seemed to seethe, growls vying with the retched screams until the latter faded away and the former grew ominously silent.
A thud echoed as the mangled remains of the soldier struck the floor. Bianca didn’t dare move or breathe. Tears pooled in her eyes, pain flaring in her injured wrist, forearm, and shoulder. The darkness shifted, and her heart seemed to thunder in her ears as light gathered into a pair of golden, glowing eyes then a deeper shadow separated from the gloom and coalesced into—a wolf?
Wolf?
Had she really seen a wolf?
It had been huge…and in the room with her. A wild hallucination brought on by dehydration and panic? Or reality? Touching her bandaged wrist, she forced her respiration to calm. Behind her, Cage stirred. His breathing changed and she had to calm down or risk waking him up.
Their nascent relationship had left her sexually sore in all the right ways. Discovering him as her neighbor had been the most fortuitous coincidence in her life, and she wouldn’t trade the last day for anything, but she didn’t need him to see her have a panic attack or a meltdown.
Those were never pretty.
When his breathing deepened, she eased out from beneath his arm and slid off the bed. Rising slowly, she felt the twinge in her muscles. Soreness extended from her breasts to her thighs. Clapping her good hand over her mouth, she suppressed a manic giggle. Torn between the shadows haunting her from the jungle and the sheer joy she’d experienced in his arms, she stood. His shirt lay discarded on the floor, so she scooped it up and pulled it on. It fell past midthigh and smelled like him. With a glance back, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
In her kitchen, she turned on the light and leaned against the counter. Tears welled, then fell, splashing against her hands as she tried to wipe them away. Another giggle escaped and she sniffled. Her emotions were all over the place. Deciding on coffee over wine, she busied herself with getting a pot started, then unwrapped her wrist slowly.
The burble of the coffee maker was a cheerful accompaniment to her quest to answer whether she’d imagined the bite on her wrist. Finally pulling the bandage free, she stared at the ridged and reddened mark on her wrist. It had swollen since she’d last looked at it, thickened around the edges. When she traced the dental indentions, the flesh was so much hotter than the skin around it.
A deeper shadow separated from the gloom—a massive wolf. She had seen it—it had been in that hut with her and her captor. Someone or something had ripped the man away from her while he held her wrist in a vicious grip. The last drop of coffee fell into the pot, and she still couldn’t piece together the moment to account for the teeth sinking into her wrist. The bruises above it were shaped like the handprint of the man who’d been about to kill her.
The bite…had the wolf bitten her in its effort to get to him? Why would a wolf do that? Did they even have wolves in the jungle? A headache formed behind her eyes, and she washed her hands, then her wrist. The cold water stung against the overheated flesh of the injury.
A creaking of the stairs warned her that her absence had been discovered. Turning off the water, she grabbed a dishtowel and dried her hands.
“You okay?” Cage wandered into the kitchen, looking as sexily rumpled as he had in the bed. Unlike her, he hadn’t bothered with clothes. The deep bronze of his skin gleamed in the low light of the kitchen. The man had nothing spare, anywhere. The toned, sculpted shape of his abdomen seemed carved from stone. He had a Hercules apron that didn’t quit, and his semi-stiff cock jutted out.
“I’m fine,” she lied. He didn’t need to hear her madness. Her gaze darted to the clock on the stove. Not at almost five in the morning.
He didn’t pause until he reached her, and the way he studied her expression suggested he didn’t quite believe her. The cant of his head sent a flutter to her heart, followed by a stab of guilt.
“I had a bit of a nightmare,” she admitted, then checked that she’d tightened the bandage on her wrist. The fracture to the bone ached, but not as much as she would have expected, considering she’d ditched the splint and they’d been all over each other.
With gentle fingers, he caressed her uninjured cheek. “Want to tell me about it?”
The wolf flashed across her mind’s eye, the huge animal coalescing from the shadows, and eyes that… “No, not really. Besides, I made coffee.” She found a well of false cheer, and when he curled his fingers against her face, she went into his arms. Pressing her cheek to his bare chest, she savored the way he closed his arms around her. Warmth bloomed in her. More than desire and lust, it felt like security. Maybe they could make it work for them. His duties took him away, too. He would understand, right? One night didn’t have to change everything.
Resting his chin against her hair, he rubbed a slow circle against her back with his palm. “No regrets?”
“About last night?” Had it actually worried the sexy god when she’d slipped away? “Hell no.”
“Good.” The vulnerability in his single syllable response sent another flutter, this one beginning in her abdomen and filling her chest with the sensation of butterflies. They chased away the dregs of fright left behind by the nightmare.
Leaning against the cradle of his arms, she dug up a smile. “Coffee?”
“I would love a cup.”
So would she, and it was the only reason she peeled herself away from his sexy, muscular body. Pivoting, she headed for the coffee maker and added a bit of a sassy roll of her hips. Yeah, she strutted. His slow exhale of appreciation didn’t go by unnoticed. Glancing over her shoulder, she drank in the image of him standing there, naked and glorious in her kitchen. “By the way, the whole lacking modesty thing, it really works for you.”
The tension punctured, and he grinned. “Thank you. I’m enjoying you in my shirt.” The possessiveness underscoring his words sent a shiver over her skin. “I think you should always wear my clothes.”
Laughing freed her from the shadows, and she filled two mugs. “Might need to double belt the shorts.” Despite the lean muscle mass, he was big everywhere. The effect left her feeling petite, diminutive, and exceptionally feminine.
“I like the lack of anything beneath the shirt,” Cage admitted, without an ounce of shame. “Easy access, beautiful thighs, sweet peeks at your ass when you bend over.”
“Cage.” She straightened to glance at him, and her face heated. Damn, the man had spent over half of the last day teasing, sucking, and licking nearly every part of her anatomy. And she’d liked it, a lot. Still, there was a difference between doing the deed and talking about it.
“What?” His grin grew, ferociously cheerful in its intensity. “I like looking you. I also like that you’re moving so well today. I was a little worried I might have been overenthusiastic.”
That was a word to describe his incredibly hedonistic—bordering on animalistic—attention to her. No one had ever taken such painstaking care to see to her needs before, not the way Cage had. Running out of condoms only made him more inventive. Carrying his coffee to him, she feasted her gaze on his blatant sexuality as he leaned against the counter watching her. He was the whole package and so relaxed in his own skin. Every inch of his glorious skin.
“I feel great. Better than I have in months.” The truth of it crystalized. “My ribs are only a little sore and my wrist aches, and I still have all these bruises, but I feel good.” Alive. Vibrant. Filled with optimism. “I’m even excited to start working on the house today.”
Her car was due to be delivered sometime later that afternoon, along with her stored belongings. Watching him as she took a sip of coffee, her pulse elevated. He filled her kitchen the way he’d filled her life. Another image of the wolf flashed across her mind’s eye, but it lacked the fear she’d experienced earlier. It hadn’t been that long after she’d seen the wolf that she’d met Cage. Her fragmented memory of leaving the jungle held one constant—him.
“Do you want to go out for another walk today?”
“Maybe, though I think I got plenty of exercise last night.” The tease worked. His laughter embraced her, and she took another sip of her coffee. Like her, Cage took his black. It tasted fantastic, perfectly bitter and strong and everything she needed to complete her morning. “I should, though, I need to build my stamina up. I get tired too easily.” Not that she was remotely tired at the moment. In fact, she was energized.
“I’m game if you are. Though it would mean you have to put some shorts back on.” The corners of his mouth turned down as though he didn’t like the idea.
“I hate to break it to you, but we’re both going to have to get dressed at some point. I’m expecting some deliveries today, and I imagine you have stuff you need to do.” She’d monopolized his time since she’d hit him with the taser. Had that really only been the day before?
“I’m on leave,” he said, raising his mug to her. “I’m all yours.”
The declaration punched her in the solar plexus. Fighting to recover, she sucked in a shaky breath then glanced around her kitchen. She needed to take a break from feasting on his fine physique. “How about I make breakfast, and you tell me all about you? We’ve talked about my work and what got me here, but all I know about you is that you’re in the military.”
“Marines.” He moved to take a seat on one of the stools, his gaze fixed on her. The intensity of his focus stimulated her, heightened her awareness and increased the feeling of intoxication flowing through her blood. It was as if she could smell him on her skin, the hint of soap he’d used, sun-kissed grass, and something earthier and intensely masculine.
Marveling at the fanciful direction of her thoughts, she shook her head. She was wearing his shirt; of course, she could smell him. One night of fantastic sex and I turn into a romance novelist. “How long have you served?” She opened the fridge, pulled out the eggs, bacon, and butter they’d purchased the day before.
“About three years.” The clipped answer didn’t offer more than what she’d asked for.
“How do you like your eggs?” Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she found him no longer watching her but staring at his coffee.
“However you’re fixing them. I’m not picky.” He raised his gaze and smiled at her.
“You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?” A hint of unease slithered through her, but she ignored it. Some people just didn’t talk about themselves. She didn’t—she talked about her work. Well, and her parents, and where she grew up… Shaking her head, she got a pan on the stove and set the bacon to cooking.
“There’s not much to tell.” Concern colored his words. “I grew up in Texas. I joined the Marines. I’ve got another two years on my contract.”
He was definitely her age or older, so he’d joined later. “I’m going to guess you didn’t join for the college benefits.” Did that sound like she was fishing? Because she totally was. Curiosity about her lover—my lover… Yes, he’s my lover and I love the sound of that—filled her.
“No, I did go to college, though, if you’re wondering.” A hint of amusement softened the tension in his tone.
“Cool, I studied health and human services, with a minor in sociology.” Proud of her accomplishments, she flipped the bacon then glanced around for her toaster. Crap, she hadn’t taken it out of the box yet. Buttering both sides of the bread, she heated up another pan. Frying it would do for now. “I took some engineering classes, too, and some classes on ecology and farming, all things I could use for the work I planned to do.” Her academic advisor had thought she was nuts until she explained why she wanted to take classes that had nothing to do with her major.
“You’re full of surprises.”
The wonder illuminating his voice had her blushing again. Flipping the fried toast, she got the last pan going and cracked three eggs into it. The mouthwatering scent of bacon wreathed the kitchen and her stomach growled. Eating early wasn’t her favorite thing, especially after the huge meal they’d had the night before, but she was starving. It felt like her stomach was gnawing on her backbone.
“What did you study?” She retrieved the cooked bacon onto a plate laden with paper towels. She was going to give all her new dishes a workout. Then she added more bacon because a half-dozen pieces didn’t seem like near enough. She found her rhythm with the cooking, pausing to drain her coffee and refill the cup before removing the eggs and plating them with some bacon and toast.
“Promise not to laugh?” The question struck her odd but also incited a fresh wave of curiosity.
“I really have to know now, so…absolutely.” She set his plate on the bar in front of him. “Crap, silverware…”
“I got it. Go turn the bacon before it burns.”
He was right; the sizzling scent grew more scorched by the second. She got the bacon turned, then set another pair of bread slices to frying with butter and got more eggs going.
“I studied medieval literature and history.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” Gorgeous. Talented. Brainy. Cage was a triple threat to her heart. When he didn’t respond, she checked on him as she removed the freshly cooked bacon to a napkin. The rich aroma of food floating around her just increased her hunger. She had to get her breakfast finished before she stole from his plate. Talk about rude.
While she finished plating up her food, Cage rose and went to the fridge. Catching sight of all that magnificence walking by distracted her as she took a bite from her bacon. As if aware of her admiration, he winked. “Want some orange juice?”
She had coffee, but the juice sounded really good, too. “Please.” She devoured two pieces of bacon before carrying her plate over to the bar. The pans could wait until after she got some protein in her system. “Are you going to teach?”
“What?” Cage set a glass of juice in front of her plate before sliding onto the stool next to her. His bare thigh rested against hers and she wanted to sigh. All the jittery sensations colliding in her system settled.
“With your degree,” she said around another bite of bacon, then washed it down with the juice. Oh, that was good. She drank half the glass before setting it down. “Are you going to teach? Do research? I mean after the Marines.”
“Never thought about teaching, and after my contract is up, I’ll probably help my dad out with the family business.” He’d cleaned most of his plate, but he took two pieces of his bacon and set it on her plate. That was when she realized she’d devoured all six pieces she’d made for herself.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned and caught her mouth in a slow, sweet kiss that had her toes curling. She would have asked for more, but he leaned away and nudged her plate closer.
Resting with an elbow on the bar, his chin on his hand, he watched her with a thoroughly indulgent expression. “You’re welcome.”
Another shiver wound along her back. The domestic scene was so utterly alien in her life experience, and yet so right at the same time. Don’t get too used to him being here… He was on leave, and she had plans to head back out into the world. They might be at loose ends currently, but they both had lives to resume—eventually.
That would be then, she reminded herself. No reason they couldn’t enjoy the now.
“What are you thinking about?” Cage asked, his thigh pressing against hers a physical reminder of their closeness.
“You,” she admitted. “And me.”
His eyes warmed. “Finish your breakfast and we can think about you on me.”
Talk about incentive. She lifted a piece of the bacon he’d given her and took a bite, then chewed slowly. His eyes narrowed, then flashed.
“Tease.”
After another bite, she grinned. “I’m only a tease if I don’t plan to deliver.” As it was, she had a hard time sitting still. His nudity betrayed his arousal, and she could swear he smelled like sex on a stick—apropos, considering how devastating his presence was on all her senses.
Plucking a piece of her bacon back from her plate, Cage held it to her lips and fed her. When she reached the end, she sucked on his fingertips.
God help her, she was never going to look at breakfast the same way again.
…
They were still in bed when the doorbell rang. If not for the excitement in Bianca’s expression and how she almost bounced out of bed, he would have growled. Holding her in his arms fed some kind of need inside of him.
“Clothes,” he ordered when she headed for the bedroom door wearing only his T-shirt. He dragged on a pair of shorts. “I’ll get the door.”
It didn’t matter if it was her house; he had no intentions of letting anyone else see that sexy body of hers wearing nothing but his shirt. Territorial, maybe, but his wolf agreed.
Protect.
“I can answer the door,” she called after him, but he was already halfway down the steps.
His nose detected a single male. No one he knew, and no warning odors of sweat, fear, or unease. Opening the door, he found an older man, somewhere in his fifties, balding and with a slight paunch. He wore a blue work shirt with the name Bob stitched above the pocket.
“I’m looking for a Miss Bianca Devlin?” Behind him on the street sat a tow truck with a pale, four-door Prius attached. Of course, she drove a hybrid. It suited his girl, with her need to save the world.
“She’ll be down in a minute.” Cage nodded to the vehicle. “That’s hers, right?”
“Yes, sir.” The man couldn’t quite meet his gaze, and he’d already taken a couple of steps back. “I need her signature and ID, though, before I can unhook the vehicle.”
Folding his arms, Cage leaned against the doorframe. Intimidating the man hadn’t been his goal. Making him aware that Bianca wasn’t alone, however, was. Her steps on the stairs behind him warned of her imminent arrival.
“I’m here,” she said, coming to a halt next to Cage. Though he didn’t block her exit, she paused by his side. Both man and wolf appreciated the distinction and the trust. “And here is my driver’s license,” Bianca continued. She held a wallet in her good hand but passed over her ID with her bandaged wrist.
Bob frowned as he caught sight of her, then turned his disapproving scowl on Cage. Anger, real and visceral, occluded the air. “Are you all right, Miss Devlin?” Though he spoke to Bianca, he didn’t look away from Cage.
Impressive, the paternal protectiveness gave the man a backbone.
“I’m fine,” she said, placing her hand on Cage’s biceps. “I had a bit of an incident out of the country, but I’m home now and all is well.”
Still holding her ID, Bob didn’t look altogether convinced. With a huff, he glanced to her and shook his head. “I hope the other guy looks a lot worse.”
“The other guy is dead,” Cage assured him, jerking Bob’s attention back to him.
The older man released a grunt of approval. “Good.” They shared a moment of pure masculine accord. Bob entered her license number into his handheld before passing it to Bianca to sign. “If you can initial here, I’ll get your car unhooked. I need you to start the engine and verify condition.”
“Of course.”
The moment Bob walked away, Bianca rounded on Cage and smacked the arm she’d just been holding tenderly.
“Ow,” Cage mouthed more for effect than because the blow hurt. “What was that for?”
“The other guy is dead?” She raised her eyebrows.
“It wasn’t a lie.” Playing dumb with her was fun. Her temper ignited and she rolled her eyes. “Besides, he was feeling very protective of you, and I didn’t feel like dealing with the cops if he wanted to call them about the bruise on your face.”
The bruise had healed considerably, the swelling reduced and the discolor fading. “I appreciate that, but we could have…said it differently.”
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he smiled. “I adore you…but they were dead. No one who hurt you was left alive.” He’d hoped that might make her feel better, but a shadow drifted across her eyes and she shook her head.
The motor on the tow truck’s winch fired up, and her car lowered to the ground.
“I’m going to go start it and check it over.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her shorts as she followed the descending stone walkway from the front door to the curb. Cage grimaced, measuring her response. He couldn’t quite read her scent or her mood. Though he wanted to stay and keep watch over her, he recognized most women wouldn’t appreciate the lurking sense of his watching their every mood.
He had to trust her to be strong enough to stand on her own. The driver meant no harm and kept everything professional. The sunny street around them was quiet. Kids had gone to school, while their parents went to work. An older woman worked on her garden in the front a few houses down—there were no threats to Bianca here.
The overreaction wasn’t like him. She was perfectly capable of looking after herself in the normal world. But her world wasn’t that normal anymore, was it? A growl rumbled in the back of his throat, but he tamped down the reaction.
Better to withdraw and let her sort out the car. He could get the coffee brewing, and more food. He hadn’t missed her appetite at dinner the night before or breakfast this morning. The change demanded a lot of calories, which would suggest her body was already preparing. It would help if he could examine the bite, put to rest his doubts.
Pulling out his phone, he sent a text to Jax. Need help. Questions about change. Signs? Signals?
It wasn’t precisely checking in, but it was opening the conversation.
Bite confirmed? The terse response from Jax didn’t allow him a tone or scent to read. It was a request for information.
He’d bitten her, but he wasn’t ready to confirm it to his captain or his father or anyone. Not until he knew she would change. Protecting Bianca meant protecting her from any consequences until he couldn’t anymore.
Not yet…but I’m thinking yes. Not the whole truth, and not a lie he could have told had Jax been standing right in front of him.
Kat’s been researching. Stand by.
Blowing out a breath, he tucked his phone into his pocket. He trusted his team with his life every day. Why was he finding it a challenge to trust them with Bianca’s? No reason, except she’s mine… Shaking his head, he silenced the instant possessiveness. She’s not mine.
Yet.
Chances were, she’d think him odd if he asked her to remove the bandage so he could examine the bite. She was healing. Recovering from the amount of trauma she’d suffered also required a lot of energy, which meant food. Wolves needed far more to sustain them. Though he’d been making sure she ate, he had no idea what her eating habits were before.
The time spent with her left him intoxicated. Her scent lingered everywhere. Drawing in a deep breath, he steadied his wolf and himself.
Once he got the coffee started, he cleaned the pans from breakfast. They hadn’t even removed their plates from the bar before they’d fallen on each other. He’d set the pans to dry and the dishes in the empty side of the sink by the time the front door closed then locked. When he turned, she stood on the other side of the bar, grinning.
“This will sound idiotic, but having my car here is—a thrill.”
“Should I be jealous of a car?”
Teasing her was fun. She made a face at the suggestion, then swung around the bar and slid her arms around him. Awareness of her fragility had kept him in check with every coupling. Yet, her movements had grown freer, less pained. Sex had a way of relaxing even the sorest of muscles.
“I love my car, but it’s more the freedom it represents and the fact that I’ve only ever gotten to drive it three years ago while I was in the States for a conference and bought it.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he savored the feeling of her pressed against him. “You bought a car while you were here for a conference?” Interest piqued, he studied her. The upturn of her face, the freckles on her nose, and the curve of her lips all beckoned him, but he kept his passion under a firm leash. No matter how hungry for her he was, her body needed rest and he’d been pushing it over the last few hours.
“It was an impulse buy.” The blush returned to warm the color in her cheeks. He adored the way her skin pinkened even beneath her tan.
“An impulse buy is a new pair of shoes, maybe quart of ice cream. A car? That’s an investment.” Still, he couldn’t imagine her life. She had no place to really call home. Relief work took her all over the world. Maybe a car was an impulse when she wouldn’t get to use it regularly.
Even his work with Bravo Team taking him out of the country regularly, they were based in the States. He had access to his car and traveled home semiregularly to renew pack ties. He didn’t spend time working with strangers regularly. Instead, he worked with a dedicated group of wolves. Sure they all came from different packs, but they’d formed a cohesive unit. They were friends. They’d grown to respect and trust each other. The time away from his pack was a fundamental necessity, one he’d embraced. Did she have anything like that?
“It tickles me you bought a car.”
“Does it seem so strange? Where I go, we use a lot of utility vehicles if we even have access to them. I’ve hiked five miles for fresh water before…so while I was here, I had this conference and I realized I could get a car and have air conditioning and do whatever I wanted. I went a little crazy.”
She was so damn adorable.
Kissing the tip of her nose, he grinned. “Then we should make sure you get to take the car out as much as you want.”
“I was actually thinking it might be fun to go for a drive later, after the stuff from my storage unit gets here.”
Was that an invitation? His wolf had settled some, but he still needed to go for a run. A long one—he needed to clear his head and reorient his thoughts. Following Bianca to Austin had been about protecting her and preserving the secrecy of the packs. If his bite turned her, he had to be here to see her through the worst of it, to help her adjust…the plan had not included becoming her lover. That doesn’t matter. The plan didn’t matter. Bianca mattered. He refused to regret the change in their relationship status.
“That could be fun, but I won’t invite myself along.” He’d been dominating her time. Maybe a little time apart wouldn’t hurt.
“You don’t have to invite yourself along, silly,” she said with a laugh, then the coffee maker burbled the last drop into the pot and she slipped away from him. “You are a prince. I was thinking while I went over my car that I desperately needed coffee.”
She filled her mug, then his. He took his before she had to deliver it and narrowed the space between them to press a kiss to her lips.
“You had plans…” He added at the same moment she said, “Unless you don’t want to go.”
The conversational landmine detonated between them, and she locked her stare on him. It was a lie that he didn’t want to dominate her time. He wanted to spend all of it with her. He wanted to see her plans for the house, go on the drive, tumble her into bed…
“You first,” they echoed each other.
This time Bianca laughed, then took a drink from her coffee before setting it down. Holding up her fist, she raised her brows. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
The woman devastated his defenses, overwhelming them like a Texas nor’easter. Neither he nor his wolf seemed capable of resisting her.
“C’mon,” she said, giving him a nudge. “It’ll be fun.”
He raised his fist, and on a three count, she held out scissors and so did he. The next turn had them both choosing rock. Cage bet money she’d go for paper, so he chose rock again—wanting her to win.
When she mimed scissors, he had to chuckle. She’d made the same gamble, only she’d wanted to win.
“Okay, you first,” she said, reclaiming her coffee mug without a hint of rancor or regret.
“You had plans before I walked in your front door…”
“And before I tased you,” she tacked on in agreement. He could have gone the rest of his life without the reminder that a woman who couldn’t be more than a buck fifty soaking wet, and human to boot, dropped him to the ground with a mini-taser. Thankfully, none of his unit or his pack had been present to see her triumph.
He would never have lived it down.
“And yes, before you tased me.” He couldn’t help the wry twist of his lips. “The point is, I like what we’re doing here. I don’t want to overwhelm you, or worse, bore you with repetition.”
Head canted, she studied him with an unreadable expression. “If you don’t want to go on the drive, you don’t have to. I like your company. I’m used to being on my own, but I’m not used to having free time. You being here is helping me relax. It’s making me smile, and I don’t think I could get sick of you if I tried. So the same goes for you; I don’t want to bore you or impose on your time.”
“You’re not.” Far from it, and as much as he needed the run, he needed to know she was okay. More he needed to know she was happy.
“Okay, then how about this…we can both play a timeout card with no hard feelings and no upset, and no suspicions. Sound good?”
“Define timeout.” He did better with solid parameters, especially considering how easily and quickly she’d come up with that offer.
“Um, easiest way to define it… Cage, I want to take a bath tonight, listen to some music, and light some candles. A little quality time for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“But if one of us calls a timeout, we don’t necessarily have to explain it.” The first rule in communication—clarify.
“Exactly, but I’m always going to assume good intentions.” Raising her coffee mug, she added. “I like us right now, no pressure and no strings. I’d like to keep us that way.”
Irresistible, she was hard to say no to, and he didn’t want to tell her no. Turning her idea over in his head, he couldn’t find any reason to object. He claimed his coffee mug and touched it to hers. “I’d love to go for a drive. Where do you want to go?”
“How about we pick a direction and be surprised?”
Yep. Impossible to deny. “Anything you want.”
Anything.