His eyes flashed up to mine and humor danced in them. We shared a moment together, and I let go of all the tangled emotions between us. For some couples, maybe their relationship was easy and effortless—no complicated histories or other things to consider. I had fallen for Lorenzo and he owned almost all of my heart. But he would soon begin to doubt, as he’d always done throughout his life. A Packmaster had too much at stake, and I was a woman who had a child—one she had given away. I had a disability. These were heavy burdens for a Shifter to take on. Love? Maybe I’d never be so lucky to have an emotion like that reciprocated, but I wanted to search a man’s eyes and see a glimmer of it reflected back at me. There were tender feelings between us, and maybe those four beautiful nights I’d spent in his bed would simply become a memory. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have a happy ending, so it only sweetened those moments that would live in my heart.
Love is not a shining star. Love is not the warm glow of the sun. Love is a river. Sometimes it’s shallow and other times a mile deep. It flows toward some and away from others. It’s rocky, slippery, and you can drown in it if you’re not careful. It creates ripples in the lives around us, and all we can hope for is to be a part of that river, no matter where it leads or how short the journey may be.
I hoped one day to be deep in the waters of a river that flowed back to me, one that spanned such a distance that I couldn’t see the shore.
But I knew in my heart I would always be the one standing on the outside, watching others fall into the deep end.
***
Lorenzo made sure Ivy finished her turkey sandwich. She refused the pickle, but he urged her to take three bites of it. It might have seemed like a strange compulsion, but a protective feeling prickled within him and overrode all logic.
Ivy was right. He needed to go home and clear his head after what had happened in Cognito. It left him uncertain if any woman could ever have room in her heart to love a man like him.
Was he really thinking about love?
For the first time in his life, he was. He’d always imagined himself settling for the sake of children, for his pack’s respect—careful not to choose a woman he would have feelings for. Lorenzo had denied himself that level of intimacy for years, as he was certain it would lead to ruin. And now, despite all he had convinced himself of before, he realized he could never mate with a woman unless she loved him.
Suddenly, love mattered. Not respect, obedience, or even perfection.
Ivy was an expressive spirit who spoke freely, but not when it came to her heart. Now he understood why she kept it so guarded—she needed to know that a man could accept her as an equal partner. But what needled him was that he didn’t get the feeling she thought herself deserving of love. Ivy was willing to trade love for respect, deciding the two could never be a package deal for a woman like her. In another life, that’s exactly what he would have wanted. But she had uncovered a side of him he’d long suppressed, and new feelings were awakening within him that he’d never experienced.
“Is she asleep?” Austin asked, holding the front door open.
“Lead me to her room,” Lorenzo said, clutching Ivy tightly in his arms.
Soon after they’d left the restaurant, Ivy had fallen fast asleep in his truck. It was close to dawn but still dark, and the emotions and long trip had taken their toll on her. Not wanting to rouse her for the sake of good-byes, he’d gently pulled her into his arms and carried her up to the house. She smelled like lavender, and he discreetly drew in a deep breath.
Some of the Weston pack was awake and stirring in the back of the house. A little blond girl with purple pajamas sleepily walked down the stairs and said hi.
Lorenzo winked and she giggled, her cheeks filling with dimples and blushing.
They ascended the stairs and walked down a long hall until Austin opened a door on the right, where Lorenzo placed her on the bed and covered her up with a woven blanket. Ivy had a humble room compared to his. Her bed was only big enough for one person, but the small pieces of antique furniture were exquisite. He ran his finger along the table next to her bed, feeling the grooves of the carved designs beneath his fingertips.
“She restores old pieces of junk,” Austin whispered. “You should see what those things looked like when she brought them home. Ivy has a way of making something damaged and unwanted into a piece of art. She’s talented as hell.”
“Let’s go somewhere private,” Lorenzo said, his voice low so as not to wake Ivy.
Austin led the way downstairs and to a hall behind the kitchen. They entered a small room, and when Austin switched on a lamp, Lorenzo closed the door behind him.
Austin walked around an L-shaped desk on the right side of the room and sat down by a narrow window. He motioned for Lorenzo to take a seat in one of the two chairs facing him. Lorenzo rubbed his shoulder and eased into one of the chairs.
“You can smoke in here.” Austin pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from one of the drawers and pushed the ashtray toward him. “These belong to Jericho, so if it’s not your brand…”
“It’s fine.”
Lorenzo enjoyed a good cigarette. He lit up the end of the smoke and set the plastic lighter on the desk. Then he tucked a strand of long hair behind his ear and leaned back.
“You look like a man with a lot on your mind,” Austin said, spinning the green lighter in a circle. “How did it go with Ivy’s son?”