She was worried I didn’t like the shoes. I turned and looked at her. Interest and now concern.
“I just don’t want you to think you have to keep them if you don’t like them. It won’t hurt my feelings if we take them back. Just wear the flip flops for now, and you can come in with me next time and pick out what you like.”
She quickly stood and went to the stove.
While her back was turned, I used my speed to get the shoes and socks from the bathroom. I couldn’t tell her I hadn’t wanted to put them on and risk wrecking them before I had a chance to use them to get a job. But if I didn’t do something to show that I liked them, she’d take them back. There was no way I’d surrender a single item she picked out for me. Not even the underwear.
I sat in the kitchen chair, put on the socks, and was in the middle of tying the shoes when she turned again.
“No, no, no, Clay,” she said in a rush as she moved toward me. “I wasn’t saying you had to wear them.”
I knew that. But I also knew they were a gift from her, and by not wearing them right away, I’d hurt her feelings.
“It’s okay to bring them back if you don’t like them.”
I finished tying, stood, and looked down at my feet. The shoes hugged the sides of my feet, but I had room to move my toes. They were much more comfortable than the ruined boots. Gabby remained where she was, and I was certain her gaze never left me. I wanted to look up, but I didn’t trust myself. Instead, I moved to finish working on the sink.
“You like shoes, but you don’t wear them much. Right?”
I shrugged again, wanting her to keep talking to me, but she turned back to the stove and fell silent. She didn’t seem upset by anything so the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it seemed pretty typical of our time together. Sometimes, she didn’t feel like talking. I didn’t mind those quiet moments with her.
The aroma of bacon, eggs, and potatoes had my mouth watering, and I couldn’t wait to eat. I finished the faucet and tested the work, happy to see a full stream of water.
“Good to have a handyman,” she said.
She’d called me a man. I wanted to pick her up and spin with her in my arms. Instead, I took the tools back downstairs and spent another minute trying to calm down.
When I returned, she had two plates on the table. She already sat at one side. My gut clenched. Our first real meal together.
I sat across from her, kept my eyes on my plate, and dug in. I nearly groaned. The bacon was loose just as I liked it, the eggs runny, and the potatoes crisp with bacon grease. I used my napkin often, worried I would have a yolk trail in my beard; Gabby liked me clean.
“What are the chances of trimming that beard?” Gabby asked.
I slowly wiped my mouth as I tried to figure out why she was asking. If she didn’t like it, she would have asked about shaving it off. She’d said trim. Did she still think I looked like a crazy man? No, she’d told Rachel that was her first impression of me, not the current one. I decided to be honest about the reason behind the beard. It hid things, like my smiles when she was around...and my teeth.
Pulling my lips back, I flashed my smile at her. She froze for a second, her fork suspended in midair, and I detected a hint of fear. I closed my lips to hide my elongated canines and focused on my food again.
“Do they stay like that all the time?” she asked.
I debated if I should answer. She’d been afraid just seeing them. But she was asking questions. About me. Getting to know me. I wanted that. We needed it. But how could I explain why my teeth were big without scaring her more?
Taking my last bite, I stood and moved to the sink while I tried to decide if I should answer her question.
Abandoning her food, she followed me and leaned against the counter. Though I didn’t look at her, I knew she was still studying me.
“Is this something you don’t want to talk about?”
I shrugged.
“Is it something I need to guess, or can you explain it to me?”
She really wanted to know.
I glanced at her, wondering how I could explain it. My teeth were always out around her. It was worse when she gave me signs that she was starting to like me. Care for me. Her interest in me really hit hard. How could I show her that her nearness was the influence? The answer was crazy simple—show her that she could make it even more pronounced.
Slowly washing my plate and fork, I considered how she would react if I scented her, nose to skin. She moved away from the sink to grab her dishes. I went to the stove and washed that while I debated her possible reactions. There was only one way to know for sure.
I returned to the sink where she rinsed her plate. Her calm posture reassured me. Setting the washrag aside, I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms as I waited for her to finish.
We stood just a few inches apart, and when she turned to me, I could see the gold flecks in her light brown eyes. We watched each other for several moments. Her eyes dipped to my chest, and I saw her interest again. If she kept this up, I’d need to leave and lose a perfect opportunity to get closer. Yeah, not going to happen.
I uncrossed my arms and leaned toward her. Panic filled the air, and she froze. I inhaled, reminding myself I needed to be careful. I shook my head, trying to tell her not to worry, and pulled back.
Her throat moved with a hard swallow.
“You’re trying to explain the teeth, right?” Fear still laced her words.
I nodded.
She studied me again, and slowly, the panic faded and interest returned. She took a deep breath.
“It’s okay then. Go ahead, explain. I’ll behave,” she said.
I grinned and knew she’d caught me when her gaze dropped to my mouth. Maybe I needed a bigger beard.
Carefully, I leaned forward again. She didn’t flinch away, and her scent remained clear of fear. As I neared, my teeth grew in anticipation. If she were my kind, I would bite her neck, Claim her, and end the waiting. But she wasn’t my kind. She needed to bite me.
I didn’t stop my approach until my nose almost touched her skin. Then, I inhaled deeply. Ah, what she did to me. I gripped the counter to steady myself and hoped she didn’t notice.
She stiffened as I exhaled, and her pulse spiked. Even with fear flooding her, her scent called to me. I inhaled once more and lifted my head, exhaling as I went.
I was inches from her lips and so tempted. Would she still run? Had I given her enough time?
No. Her eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty. She still didn’t trust that we were meant to be together.
I pulled back my lips, finishing what I’d started...an explanation for the beard.
She studied me, and slowly her pulse calmed.
“So, when you’re around me, they’re worse? I guess that means they’re like that all the time.”
I shrugged and took a step back.
A car pulled into the driveway, distracting Gabby. She left the kitchen in a rush. I sighed and quickly stripped out of the clothes, knowing our time was over. For now.
When Rachel walked through the door, I was in my fur and the clothes were in a neat pile on the chair.
Rachel smiled at me, petted my head, then caught sight of the clothes as Gabby walked into the room.
“Is there someone here?”
“Clay stopped by and fixed the sink. He figured he would leave a change of clothes because of last night,” Gabby said.
Her smooth lies amazed me. I was glad I could hear the skip in her pulse to detect them because without it, there was nothing to give her away.
“Really? The sink’s working? And for free?” Rachel moved to the sink to test it.
Gabby shrugged and grabbed the clothes, leaving me to deal with Rachel’s good mood. When Rachel was happy, I endured hugs, kisses on the top of the head, and excessive petting. Done with her affectionate praise, she finally released me; and I shook off the feeling of her.