“He offered them annulment. Or divorce. But they won’t go.” Occam’s eyes went the nervous bright gold of his cat. He scrubbed his hands on his jeans; his palms were sweating. “Together as a leap, with Rick as their off-site alpha, they have a strong pack magic and have managed to repel all the males who might want to take over. They like things the way they are. No male on-site.”
“Okay. I’m’a be honest here, Occam. You’re rambling.” But Occam seemed to have reached the end of his ability to communicate. Or the look on my face had stopped him. Or my scent, which had to be communicating my reaction even better than my words or expression. “Occam, what are you trying to tell me? Spit it out.”
“I slept with the leap of leopards, all in a pile, as part of a healing.” Occam turned a darker shade of red. If his color was an indication, he was about to die from apoplexy. “And I had to be naked. That’s the first thing.”
I had heard of pack magic for helping injured were-creatures to heal. I didn’t know if it was real power or something like a sugar pill, but Occam didn’t have a family or a pack or anything except Rick, and Rick had saved him when I couldn’t by sharing his new family. I reckoned that meant I owed Rick something, except that would mean that Occam and I were a...thing. But he had used the wordsslept withandnaked. “Occam, are you trying to tell me that you had sexual relations with one or more of Rick’s wives?”
“No! Slept as in slumber, not as in sex.” He waved his hands in front of me as if he was wiping away something in the air between us. “No sex.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you had sexual relations with one of Rick’s children by marriage?”
Occam stepped back fast. “No.Hellno.”
“Are you trying to tell me you had sexual relations with Rick?”
“Holy shit, woman. No.”
“I don’t rightly think God shits. Jesus, now, he probably had to go.”
Occam made a sound that was part splutter, part gasp at my blasphemy. “How did we get on the subject of Jesus’ bowel movements?”
“You said holy shit.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I... Yes, I cussed.” He wiped his palms on his jeans and ran his disfigured hand and fused fingers through his hair and over the bald, scarred areas of scalp. He had broken out in a sweat that stained the underarms of his T-shirt. “I needed you to know that I was naked during the healing.”
“Okay.”
“Because there was talk about the wives coming here someday and they might meet you.”
“Okay.” I was fighting a grin. “And you drove all the way out here and woke me up to tell me about something that happened months ago? In Gabon?”
Occam blinked once at that. “But I didn’t have sex with anyone while I was in Gabon. Or anywhere else since I met you. Even with Yummy, who offered to heal me with her blood if I slept with her. If I had sexual relations with her. Last night. I mean, she offered that last night. This morning actually. Just after I got to the office.” He held out his cell phone as proof. There were texts on the screen.
Ahhh. Understanding bloomed through me like a flower opening. This was why he was so odd this morning. This had been the text that sent him walking away from me after bringing me coffee.
I didn’t look at the cell, keeping my eyes on Occam. “Why not?” When he looked confused I asked, “Why didn’t you have sex with anyone?”
“Because I’m...” He shook his head, befuddled. Which was a much better word than confused. “Because I was waiting on you, Nell, sugar.”
“You were waiting on me tohave sex with?” I asked, my irritated amusement taking a hard turn into a new causation. “Just to clarify.”
“For someone who knows nothing about romance you sure do talk straight, Nell, sugar.” Sweat had popped out on his face and I had a feeling it wasn’t just the heat making that happen.
“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t know nothing about romance, but I know a lot about sex and not much of it good. You gonna clarify?”
A strange expression flitted across Occam’s face. It was part perplexity, part wonder, part uncertain discomfort, partembarrassment. Carefully, he said, “Nell, sugar. I’m not waiting to have sex with you.”
I tilted my head. “That’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it? Or talking around?”
“No. It isn’t. Since the first moment I met you, I’ve been waiting to make love with you.” When I didn’t reply he added, softly, “I love you, Nell, sugar. And I have a feeling you never made love with someone who loves you to the full moon and back.”
The anger and amusement drained out of me like water from a broken dam. My fists unclenched. My body felt heavy and tired and agitated all at the same time. Something I didn’t understand pulsed through my body like... like the way heroin must feel when a junkie shoots up. Something good. Something addictive. The wordsI’ve been waiting to make love with youandloves you to the full moon and backricocheted around in my brain box like balls on a billiards table. “Oh,” I said.
Occam took a step closer. A sliding, muscular movement that was nothing a human can make. Silent. Hunting cat. “I love you, Nell, sugar. I love you with no demands. Nothing held back. I love you to the exclusion of all others. I love you now, when you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I loved you when you were a tree. I will love you when you grow gray haired and your leaves are brittle and brown. I want to make love to you. When you happen to be ready. When you know you love me that exact same way.”
“To the full moon and back?”
“Exactly that way.”
