The memory made her stomach twist into anxious knots of humiliation, but she still answered,“I don’t think the witch’ll last long without help. Have youseenher?”
Clark’s brows slowly drew together. “Sugar… no. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I was just…” He trailed off, his gaze flitting over her shoulder as he processed what she’d said. After a long, tense moment, he asked, “Did you think I meant you didn’t belong out here?”
Nelly looked away. “What was I supposed to think?”
“Shit.” He squeezed her hand. For once, a part of her actually wished she wasn’t wearing her gloves. It would have been nice to feel his skin, callused as she knew it must be. “Nelly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I promise. And the notes— I only meant that I wanted to help. It’s hard out here, especially when you don’t have a clan around to give you a hand.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Youweren’ttrying to criticize my house?”
Clark had the grace to look genuinely abashed when he answered, “No, though I can see why it came off that way, considering.” He sighed. “Damn stupid way of trying to court a woman, Wilson.”
It still seemed too good to be true. “Okay, if you were trying to court me, then how come the first thing you did when you remembered we kissed was say— what you said.”
“What I…” She could almost see the exact moment the implication of what he’d said dawned on him. In an instant, all the color washed out of Clark’s cheeks, leaving him ashen. “Oh, Nelly,no.I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Well, whatdidyou mean?”
“Fuck me. I meant that I know better than to kiss a woman without her permission, especially the one I’ve been pining after formonths.”
They stared at one another, at last comprehending the extent of their misunderstanding.
Gradually, as if they were brought back to life one by one, Nelly’s stomach began to fill with butterflies.Clark liked me this whole time?
Her fingers twitched on his chest, curling reflexively in his flannel shirt.Glory save me.
Clark Wilson, her incredibly attractive orcish neighbor, the town’s favorite, the man who rescued and trained the abused and neglected horses no one wanted out of the good of his heart,likedher.
His thumb rubbed the back of her hand in slow, gentle circles as he leaned in. Clark’s eyes were soft and pleading when he whispered, “Sugar, I need you to believe me. I… Are you wearing gloves?”
In the same instant that he pulled her hand off of his chest to examine it, the timer beeped.
Nelly jerked her arm back, extracting her hand from his loose grip. She was flushed and flustered and not at all ready to get into why she’d put on precautionary gloves as soon as she realized Clark would be staying awhile. “Um, pancake’s ready.”
Clark stared at her for a moment longer, his eyebrows raised, before he gave her a look that said clearly,“We’ll talk about this later.”
Stepping aside, he grasped her hips once more and hoisted her off of the counter. He didn’t release her right away. For a moment, he held her there, his fingers resting lightly on the curve of her hips, and looked down at her like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
Before she could begin to squirm uncomfortably, though, he flashed a grin and said, “You get the pancake baby. I’ll get the coffee. Where are you keeping the mugs?”
ChapterSeven
“What were you doing here, anyway?”
Clark blinked. Even when he closed his eyes, he could still see her silhouetted against the window, looking rumpled and soft and pretty against the backdrop of the blizzard raging outside.
They were sitting at her table, the remains of their breakfast spread out before them. He’d rummaged through her refrigerator and was pleased to see she’d stocked up for the bad weather, which also gave him plenty to work with to supplement all the sweets she’d made for their breakfast. After whipping up half a dozen eggs and some sausage and gravy for them both, they’d sat down for a quiet meal together.
It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. There was tension, certainly, but the good kind. The sort that made your stomach tighten and your brain go all fuzzy with anticipation.
When they had both finished scarfing down their meal — much needed, apparently, since bonding was an energy-consuming process — they sat there in silence. He was content to watch her there by the window, all curled up in her chair with her mug held tight against her chest.
She did that a lot, he noticed. Nelly seemed to be in the habit of making herself as small as possible, her limbs drawn tight to her sides and her body language stiff.
And the gloves. Can’t forget those.
He never would have noticed them if he didn’t touch her hand. If you didn’t already know they were there, they were almost invisible to the naked eye. Was it a quirk or a medical necessity? He didn’t care either way, but hedidneed to know if she required extra medical considerations.
What kind of mate would he be if he didn’t know that sort of thing?
