“You do the pin,” she murmured, holding it out to him.
He took it carefully and worked it slowly, gently into place.
“How’s that?” His voice was a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the quiet moment.
“A little loose, maybe—” she threw in a quick smile “—but good for your first time.”
“First time.” He nodded. “I like the idea of a second time…”
She wound her arms behind his neck and kissed him again.
“…a third time…” he mumbled.
Lots more times. The words ghosted through her mind like he’d sent them there, and her lips curled even as they kissed. Now she was imagining his voice in her mind. What else might he say?
Mine, came a whisper that matched his tightening grip. Mate…
She opened her eyes in surprise and caught sight of the patio curtain, dancing in the air. There she was, imagining his voice when it was only silk swishing over silk in the gentle night breeze.
He cocked his head in a question she didn’t dare read into.
“Want some strawberries?” he asked.
Now it was her turn to cock her head, because she was sure those were not the words that had been on the tip of his tongue.
“Just strawberries?”
He grinned as if proud to see her becoming so bold. She’d been a shadow of herself lately, but being near him brought out the real Heather.
“Just strawberries,” Cody teased back. “You don’t want any?”
“Oh, I want some, all right.”
She fisted her hands in his collar and pulled him closer. It was crazy, how good she felt with him, how fast. How much she trusted him when she knew she couldn’t trust anyone.
He dragged her into a hug, inhaled deeply, and came up satisfied as a pig in mud. “Oh, you want some, all right.”
***
Damn.
Cody studied the forest-green eyes that had mesmerized him from the start. For a moment there, he thought Heather might have heard his inner wolf crying, Mine! Mate!
I get it! He wanted to shout the beast into silence. I get it already!
So what are you doing about it? the wolf shot back.
Trying desperately to figure some way a shifter like him could win over a human, that’s what he was doing. An absolutely, positively, forbidden human with long, lean legs and champagne hair and a special smile, just for him.
An absolutely, positively perfect woman, his wolf growled in agreement. Loud enough that a tiny bit of the growl slipped from his lips.
“What did you say?” Heather murmured, looking at him with those innocent eyes, full of hope and longing. Those emotions were in the forefront, where the green was at its brightest. Behind that, though, crates of fear stood stacked around the dark edges. Fear he’d been able to chase back into the shadows but not entirely dispel. Whoever or whatever had scared her, he wanted to rip piece from piece, the way he wanted to destroy the vampire he’d been tracking down at work. But those were two different things, and neither of them belonged in this perfect part of this perfect night.
Mate, his wolf purred as he stole another kiss. A kiss he got stuck on and drew out over the next couple of heady breaths. Mine.
Maybe in daylight, he’d figure out some solution. At the moment, all he could do was scrape his body along hers, rubbing his scent in to mark her as his. He’d do the same when they were naked, but there was a certain achy satisfaction that went with drawing the process out.
Mine…
“Listen,” she mumbled, pulling out of the kiss.
He thought she was on to him then, but she turned to the open patio and smiled.
“Listen…”
He listened as a shrill voice broke the slumbering silence of the night. A second joined it, then a third.
“Coyotes!” Heather’s eyes lit up as she said it, like coyotes were the best possible thing. A good sign, though. She liked big dogs and coyotes, so that meant she might be okay with wolves, right?
He winced a little, following the cackle of the coyote calls. Damn things were so squeaky. Nothing like wolves.
“So beautiful.” Heather sighed.
His wolf gave a sour little humpf.
The West Hills pack sounded off, one by one, and Cody tacked mental images onto each familiar voice. A couple of the younger pack members started their nightly call off, and then the scarred old alpha pitched in with his scratchy voice.
“I love listening to them howl at the moon.”
They were just yowling about dinner, but he let that slide. The West Hills coyotes didn’t have a trace of shifter in them, unlike the Echo Creek pack whose territory bordered on Twin Moon Ranch. Totally unlike the Echo Creek pack, in fact, who were much quieter. Prouder, too, in their tight-lipped Navajo way.
“You’ve got this obsession with howling,” he joked.
I’ll make you howl, his wolf threw in.
He imagined her tipping her head and teasing him. Promise?
But she was still dreamy, still listening to the sound. “Such a beautiful song.”
He couldn’t hold back a snort. “You should hear wolves.”