“We’re not the same as we were then.”
“Maybe. You’re still a bit of a know-it-all.”
“Am not,” I complain too quickly, and he smiles. “Well, you’re still enormous and bossy.”
He grins at me, and I can’t help but smile back. It’s like the world around us has paused to let us have just this moment.
Too bad it’s ruined by the shifter from last night, with four guys flanking his sides. The Alpha, the man I danced with, has his nose to the air as he inhales.
“He’s fucking close,” he says and Silas’ eyes go wide, the gold shine almost as bright as last night.
I tap my nose, and Silas nods and looks around. He brings a finger to his lips as he stands and dips a foot into the water. I give him wide eyes and he grabs my wrist, ushering me into the water that’s too cold even for an autumn night in New Orleans.
He places his massive hand over my mouth as he takes a deep breath and dips us into the water. What feels like an aggressive baptism ends as he slowly brings us back up to the shallow surface.
We both watch as the men’s eyebrows furrow as they look around. They know they scented Silas for sure, and suddenly they lost the trail.
“Must be that fucking witch he’s with.”
My face must read irritation as Silas smiles, even though he looks like a drowned wolf.
“He needs to be taught a lesson,” the Alpha from last night growls.
“Felix, it’s not worth it. Plus, if he’s with a witch, we don’t want to piss off Prudence.”
“She isn’t her coven. She wouldn’t care,” one of the other pack members says.
Silas’ hand is still covering my mouth and the urge to lick his palm is getting almost too much to bear. So I do it.
He doesn’t look pissed or move his hand. He just stares at me, and I stare right back as we wait for this pathetic gaggle of shifters to figure out what they’re going to do.
They finally give up, jogging in another direction, but Silas doesn’t move his hand right away.
Instead, his hand slides from my mouth, over to my cheek, his thumb trailing my cheekbone as he looks at me with awe.
“We would’ve been something,” he says, stroking my skin.
“Yeah, something,” I reply, leaning into his touch.
His palm is so cozy and warm compared to the cool water that’s currently drenching both of us. The fountain and street lamps glow against his sun-kissed skin and I wonder what it would be like to really kiss him.
Not that peck at the courthouse, the one that was done out of obligation and met with complete disgust.
Silas shakes his head and drops his hand.
“You look like a drowned rat,” he says and I gasp.
Cupping my hands with water, I collect as much as I can and splash it in his face. He looks at me with complete disbelief. I go to run away in the fountain and he grips me by my wet t-shirt, tugging me against his chest.
“One little piece of advice, wife?” he says, his warm body heat pressed against me. “Don’t run from me.”
“Why?” I say breathlessly, my shirt clinging to my front.
He leans in, his nose gliding up the side of my throat.
“Just shut up and listen to me,” he says, a common phrase between us that’s slowly turning into a term of endearment in my mind.
“I’m not a very good listener,” I reply and he squeezes my shirt harder, sending water dripping down my back.
