“Why does your hair always look dry?” he countered.
“Because it is?” I don’t know why that sounded like a question. It wasn’t, it was the answer.
“That must be it,” he said simply.
I waited. He didn’t say anything else. “Your hair isn’t wet.”
“Doesn’t appear to be,” he agreed.
“Oh my Goddess, you are the most difficult male I’ve ever dealt with!”
Diesel grinned. “You’ll meet more than you want to, trust me.” He started to whistle.
I gaped at him. “Why are you whistling? I thought you wanted to talk to me?”
He glanced at me. “Hmm. I just thought you’d want to see the couch before I carry it to the house and then find out you don’t like it.”
I stopped walking. “You don’t want to talk to me about the magic?” I demanded.
Diesel blew out a breath. “Nah.” He kept walking. I hurried after him. “Let me show you something, Rowen, daughter of the Hollow.” He didn’t look at me as we walked. “Follow me.”
“Where?” I asked dubiously.
A knowing smirk curled his lip upwards. “I’ll never hurt you,” he said. “You’re my alpha’s mate. If you can’t trust me, trust that.”
I didn’t have a comeback for that, so I simply followed. It wasn’t long before I realized he wasn’t taking me anywhere near a couch, or an empty cottage. As we walked, he led us further off the path and towards the center of Blueridge Hollow.
To the Heartwood.
I almost wanted to ask. It was on the tip of my tongue to challenge him. But curiosity kept me quiet. I wanted to see what this strange shifter would do once he got to the heart of this land. Could I stop him if his intentions weren’t good? Probably not. Did I doubt his intentions? No.
He really was one of the most fascinating males I’d ever met. I wasn’t sure it was in a good way. But it was in a “way,” and that was what was keeping it interesting.
“Wolfe’s right,” Diesel said casually as we walked. “You do think loudly.”
My laugh spilled free before I could contain it. He gave me a wicked grin, and we traveled the rest of the way with less tension between us.
I stared up at the great tree, thick and solid. Diesel walked around the trunk twice before stopping and crouching at the base. His hand dug into the overgrowth, and then he beckoned me forward.
“Look,” he told me, his voice low. “Roots. They said you were born among the roots of the Heartwood.” He glanced up at me. “This is it.” He held my stare. “Your son should be born here, too. Ensure that his blood and yours spill on this.”
My eyebrows quirked. “You assume my first child will be a boy? How very male of you.”
Diesel rose, dusting his hands off. He placed a hand on my belly, and I was too stunned to react. “Definitely a son.” He gave me a knowing look. “A male only acts as insatiable as your mate did last night when he feels the power of his son in your blood.”
“What?” I stepped back. My hand was on my belly. “Wh-what are you saying?”
He frowned. “You know you’re pregnant… Right?”
I felt faint. “No. I’m not.” I saw his eyes widen in surprise and then regret. “Diesel?”
“I’m sorry, Rowen.” He actually sounded sincere. “I thought you knew.”
I sat down on the grass; it was either sit or fall over. I opted to make it my choice on how I landed on the ground, because there was no finesse with the way I sat.
Diesel lowered himself, sitting across from me, eyes watchful. “You didn’t even suspect?”
It was the fact that he sounded so skeptical that snapped me out of my stupor. “No, you giant oaf. I didn’tsuspect.”
