Her mood had changed as the sun went down. She seemed small and timid, as if she had already used up her allotment of courage for the day.
“We don’t have to do the skinny-dipping thing,” he said, trying to understand her mood. “We can paddle around wearing clothes. We’ll feel just as cool.”
“No. I want to do this.”
You want to do this as much as I want to be stepped on by a bison. But he parked the BOW and pulled the blanket out of the back. Someone had thoughtfully set some of the solar-powered lights around the water, creating enough illumination that Meg wouldn’t be stumbling around in the dark.
She removed her sandals, then stood at the edge of the swimming hole, looking so unhappy.
He wondered how to back out of this adventure when Meg suddenly pulled off her clothes and jumped into the water. She went under, then surfaced, squeaking from the shock of water so much cooler than the air.
He stripped off his clothes and jumped in. Yes, the water shocked the human form more than it did the Wolf, but only for a moment.
“You okay, Meg?”
She paddled to the edge and grabbed handfuls of grass to anchor herself, her legs rising to float behind her. “I’m okay.” She floated for a minute before saying softly, “I’m okay.”
He joined her at the edge. “The water feels good after a sticky day.”
She nodded.
Fragile, complicated Meg. What did she want him to do?
She turned her head away from him just enough for light to shine on the new scar along the right side of her jaw. Winter or summer, she wouldn’t be able to hide that one. And he wouldn’t forget why she’d made that cut.
He gently kissed that scar and felt something changing inside him—just a flutter of change, there and gone, but leaving its mark.
She looked at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty. If he kissed her again, she would flee like a bunny.
So he licked her nose and made her laugh before he lunged for the center of the pool, making as big a splash as he could. A moment later, she leaped on top of him with a joyful yelp that was cut off when they both went under. Sputtering, he pulled her to the surface.
For several minutes they splashed around, their bodies brushing and bumping like two Wolves at play. Then they climbed out and collapsed on the blanket—she on her back and he stretched out on his belly.
He looked at her and grinned. She looked at him and laughed.
Simon listened while Meg’s breathing quieted as she drifted closer to sleep. Propped up on his forearms, he watched her for a moment before he shifted to Wolf and eased closer to her, letting out a happy sigh when she buried her fingers in his fur.
How much human was left in Thaisia? How much would the terra indigene keep? He didn’t have answers, but he and Meg would figure out a way to look after their pack, and they would be all right.
Simon gave her shoulder a couple of licks. Sleepy now, he laid his head on his paws, still aware of Meg’s fingers in his fur.
Yes, they would be all right.