“So, you really knit clothes for animals?” I ask meekly.
“I really do. Not just clothes. I build enclosures and kennels, anything that they need.”
I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. “What do you do for work?”
“I am a carpenter.”
“Wow, I’m impressed. I would have thought you’d be a computer analyst or something. But it makes sense, the building. You always did care about the environment and animals. I remember the kitten you saved in fourth grade.”
“Do you remember that? That was a long time ago. She was adopted by a family and lived a long, happy life.”
“Not so long ago,” I murmur, looking up at him and trying to find the boy I knew. “I think you are amazing.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I can’t fix anything,” I say forlornly.
He gets to our street and walks up the hill, not even breathing hard.
“What happened in the city, Secret?”
I shake my head. “It was just one bad choice after another.”
“You’re going to be okay now.”
The serene confidence on his face makes me desperate to believe him.
“How do you know that?”
“How? Easy, you’re home. You have a whole town full of people on your side. And you have me. And Elijah and Devon.”
His words warm me when I know they shouldn’t. This is, after all, fake dating. Still, when he opens the door to the house and carries me up the stairs, I don’t protest. Danger is curled up on my pillow, sound asleep, and I breathe a sigh of relief to see him.
Mack is so gentle when he sits me on the edge of the bed and kneels before me. My heart beats fast as I reach out and brush his hair back. He freezes and waits while I pat him, but I pull back, remembering abruptly that this is not appropriate. He helps me get my shoes off but stays kneeling in front of me.
Rain on warm concrete and cinnamon seeps into the air, reminding me that this is an alpha. This calm feeling emanating out of him, this safety, it’s his aura. He stares at me, not pushing one way or another, just waiting, while I struggle with myself.
“Go get changed. I’ll stay until you get into bed.”
I don’t even question it. I should, but instead I find myself in my pajamas staring at my flushed and stunned face in the bathroom mirror, almost too scared to open the door. Eventually, I creep back out.
His eyes drift down over me, and I feel like I’m wearing something much sexier than my sleep shorts and tank top. He lifts the cover of the bed.
“You know this is really weird, right? Tucking me in?”
“You’ve been drinking, and everyone deserves to be taken care of sometimes. I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself, and it gives me a few more minutes to be with you.”
How can I argue with that? I lie down, staring up at him, unable to look away as he leans over me. I think he might kiss me, I really, really want himto, but he doesn’t. He simply draws the blanket up and tightens it around me, tucking me in.
The action stuns me. I lay there with a ball of warmth spreading through my chest. For the first time in years, I’m going to go to bed feeling safe. I want to kiss him.
“Mack?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure you’re okay with all this?” I ask.
“With the match?”
