Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Fantastic. That’s what I want on a Yelp review, ‘it’s edible.’”
He chuckled, and we ate in silence for a few minutes.
“Hey, so basically, all that stuff you said about a witch and your land last night was crap, right?”
“Interesting topic change.”
“I’m just thinking about everything, but it was, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Going forward, are you going to be honest with me?”
“I said I would, so yes.”
“Excellent,” he murmured, then put his elbow down on the table, leaned his chin on his fist, and stared at me. “Now, I want to know everything about you, so go ahead and start.”
“First, you said last night that you’d never felt this way before.”
“Which is true. I mean, you and your gorgeous eyes and that hair that just can’t seem to stay put and your scent—all driving me nuts.”
“That’s very honest.”
“Well, if you’re gonna be, then so am I.”
I nodded.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I assumed, when you said you’d never felt the way you were feeling last night, that meant I had sparked something new.”
“And you would be right. I mean, I’ve seen other men and wanted to fuck them, but with you it’s different. I would actually like to know you.”
“That was very straightforward.”
“Again, honesty.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“Okay what?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Spit it out.”
“I just thought, when you said all that about never feeling that way, that maybe you meant you’d never felt like that about a man before, so I was wondering.”
The look I got in response made me laugh.
“I’ve been gay my whole life,” he explained. “I’ve only ever been with men and only want to be with men, so clearly, I was referring to having a different feeling for you specifically.”
“Ah.”
“What the hell?”
“Well, come on, how in the world was I supposed to know that?”
After a moment, he shrugged. “Fine. So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Narah wanted me to invite you out to the house, and I want you there as well.”
“You don’t dance around things, do you?”
“No.” He held my gaze. “I’m interested in you, Merritt Baker, and I’m fairly certain you feel the same.”
“Attraction means nothing,” I murmured. “Eat your omelet.”
“Attraction is a great jumping-off point,” he countered, smiling at me as he took another few bites. “It can lead to so much more.”
“You’re very good at flirting.”
“I’m not flirting with you; I’m telling you straight up that I want to spend time with you.”
I exhaled sharply. “It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea, actually, and at Thanksgiving, there’s another pack coming—not to hunt, just to visit and eat and see if maybe there’s an alliance to be made.”
“I’ll pass, but thank you for the invitation.”
“I wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
I scoffed.
“Oh? You’re busy, are you?”
“Last year I went to eight houses.” I shuddered. “I told everyone that was it, that it could absolutely never happen again, and that I could feed my damn self.”
He was smiling at me again.
“What?”
“I brought you food and coffee; maybe I could have a kiss for the effort.”
I squinted at him.
“It’s because you’re out of my league, right? I’m just a lowly contractor, and you already have a beautiful house and a great business, so what do you need me for?”
“That’s not it, and you know it.”
He leaned forward and stared at me. “Who did all this glasswork for you? Because it’s sort of defying the laws of physics just a bit.”
“It is not,” I rumbled. “It’s quite common.”
“Nothing common about any of it. This house had to cost millions, and it’s out here in the middle of nowhere. If an architect had done this, there would be pictures of it everywhere.”
I shrugged.
“Tell me what kind of shifter you are, Merritt Baker.”
“How would that help you in any way?”
“The fact that you won’t tell me says a lot.”
“I’m not a shifter, I promise you.”
He nodded. “Kiss me so I’ll know.”
“No one knows from a kiss.” I chuckled.
“Just kiss me already. We both know you want to.”
“I think you—”
“Please, Merritt. I wanna see you and kiss you and do all kinds of things with you. Mostly I have this incredible urge to hold you down and bite you, hard.”
Between his pheromones, which I could almost taste, the smoky, silky sound of his voice, the dimples, his smile, and the way his eyes were narrowed and fixed on me, the temptation was nearly overwhelming.
But I took a breath instead and said, “I know what you need, and I’m not it.”
He crossed his arms on my table and put his face down on them. “You’re killing me. Do you have any idea what you smell like?”
“I hope something good,” I couldn’t help saying.
“Yep. I got it in my nose last night, and it won’t go away. Your scent is at The Bower as well as here, of course. Did you do that on purpose? Smother me in your pheromones?”