Holy shit, did I just think that?
Apparently, I had, and I hadnoidea how I felt about it. Or if it was even true.
I had agreed to go on a date with Giselle, that was an unmitigated fact. I was attracted to her, not only because she had an ethereal sort of beauty to her, but also because of her kindness and her strength of character. Now, after every insanething that had happened, I was more drawn to her than ever before, more aware than ever how far out of my league she was, but did that mean I had a crush?
I didn’t know.
What I did know was how to make a delicious dinner, so I did my best to focus on that. Every now and then, my thoughts slipped back to a random moment or fragment of an idea. Like how I’d been so sure I was about to die to a random ghost from my past only to see a frail shape slam into his side and free me. Maybe this was a wild thing for a shifter to think, but it all happened so fast, some parts of it were still blank to me. But what I would never forget was the determined grit in Giselle’s eyes as she pushed that medical bracelet into the man’s eye, screaming at him to leave me alone.
Many people would be horrified by that. And while I liked to think I wasn’t a violent person, I was definitely not feeling horrified. A bit shocked, yes. Filled with wonder and surprise, and maybe even a little turned on. Even when she was so sick that she might need to go to the hospital, Giselle fought for me like I was someone worthy of protecting. Like I was precious, and I didn’t deserve the punishment for failing my pack.Ididn’t even feel that way about myself, so why did a practical stranger?
Maybe that was simply who Giselle was. She was the kind of person who would work herself into a thyroid storm for kids who weren’t her own, and she’d tackle a werewolf to protect yet another werewolf, who was the father of one of her students.
She really was incredible.
Which was why I tried to remind myself that she was only coming over to dinner to be nice. She’d only called me because she had pertinent information about not-Charles, and like usual, was so kind and perceptive that she knew I needed closure on whatever had happened that night. That was all. This wasn’t a date or a do-over.
The least I could do was make her a tasty, satiating meal, that was both dense in calories and nutrients.
She’d mentioned she was having a hard time eating enough food to get her weight up, mostly because of nausea from her thyroid playing games with her. It was one of the reasons I had chosen pasta. One, it was easy to make a whole bunch so she would have leftovers to take home, and two, I could add a bunch of bone-based protein powder into the pesto. It was mostly flavorless, unlike other sweetened and vanilla mixtures I’d tasted throughout my years, but added a ton of collagen, protein, and other macronutrients to a meal.
If this was the only time I ever got to cook for her, I would make it a good.
But I didn’t just think of Giselle. I thought about my son, and how happy he was in that after-school art program. He was having fewer nightmares, and so was I.
I thought random things about Millia. We used to go swimming at the lake after sundown, both stripped down to nothing, running away in wolf form if any humans came upon us. She loved growing and drying flowers, and had entire scrapbooks of different artful arrangements.
And I thought about her and Giselle together, sitting at a table and sipping tea, talking about Benny with wide, sappy smiles.
The two of you would have had one hell of a time roasting me.
It brought a smile to my face as I finished, and I wore that same smile as I called Natalie and the kids in to wash up and set the table with an extra place for the first time since we moved here.
I fixed myself up in the half-bath downstairs, and just in time too. The moment I stepped out, there was a knock at my door and a buzz from my phone.
She was here.
I didn’t quite run to the front door, but I did walk really quickly. However, I slowed my pace right before I reached it, smoothed down my shirt, then readied myself to greet her.
“Hey there!” I said a little too brightly as I opened the door.
She wasn’t dressed to the nines like she had been on her date, and yet she still looked like she stepped out of a magazine. She was brunette today, her hair a simple curly bob, and she wore adorable, mushroom-printed overalls with a red turtleneck that looked warm enough under her light jacket.
She wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup, just eyeliner that looked so striking on her hazel eyes, ruby red lipstick, and that blush I was sure was natural.
“Hey there.” She smiled so sweetly, I was glad she couldn’t smell my pheromones. “Thank you for inviting me into your home again.”
I stepped to the side and gestured into the hall. “You should probably come in and taste the food before you do any thanking.”
“I’m sure it will be lovely.”
As she stepped in, there was a sort of irresistible force that seemed to pull us together. The moment was cut off as a happy cry sounded from the end of the hall.
“Miss Fischbacher!” Benny cried, racing down the hall and launching himself at the slight woman. Giselle stumbled back a little, and I had to catch her with an arm behind her back.
It wasn’t a big deal, just a little bit of physical contact, but I was acutely aware of her back as it pressed into the muscle of my forearm for a few seconds before she straightened.
“My, you’re enthusiastic today,” she chuckled, patting Benny’s head. “I saw you a few hours ago.”
