“That’s not what I was talking about, but yes, I do.” Remy slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “However, on the odd chance that you fight dirty enough to get the best of me, we’re currently surrounded by shifters, all ready to take you down. The median age is seventy-five, but trust me, you don’t stand a chance. Not against this community.”
Orsen wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “She killed?—”
“She did us all a favor,” Remy interrupted. “And now you get to live with it. With the reality that what happened to him is at least partially your fault.”
Orsen’s eyes went round.
Remy clamped a hand onto his shoulder. “Yeah, you mull over that for a while. Somewhere else, though. This family needs to start healing, and your presence isn’t helping.”
Alaina’s grandmother edged between the two men, knocking her hip into Orsen and sending him staggering backward. “Move out of my way,” she snapped, hustling past so she could embrace her granddaughter.
Orsen’s gaze darted every which way, bouncing off each person in turn before sweeping out over the shadows surrounding them. Mallory had no idea if Remy spoke the truth about a bunch of elderly shifters hiding in the shadows, but it honestly wouldn’t surprise her.
Finally, after long seconds, the hapless pack leader snagged his shirt off the ground and stormed away, stomping down the sidewalk, his image fading and appearing again as he stepped into each pool of light.
The shadows shifted and moved.
Remy was right.
She snagged his shirtsleeve, tugging him away from the reuniting family. He followed her to the edge of the driveway. When she turned to face him, he still had his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. The expression on his face was… earnest.
Good. That made it easier for her to say what she had to say.
“So, I was thinking.”
“Yeah?”
She tapped her lips with her pointer finger. Remy’s gaze tracked the motion. “I’d like to see if we can, um, you know.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t know. I need you to spell it out.”
* * *
He could probably guesswhat she was thinking, but he suspected it was important for her to talk it out. Maybe this was the closure she’d been seeking. This admitting to herself that she was ready to move on. Get her life back.
Mallory frowned, staring out into the darkness for too many heartbeats. Until she finally shook her head and stared into his eyes.
“I thought I needed to go back to my pack to find closure, but really, I needed to find you. My bear has been harassing me since I left you in that hotel room in Detroit.”
“I knew I liked your bear.”
She snickered. “My bear is quite fond of you too.”
He tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, let his fingers linger there. “What about you? Are you fond of me too?”
Grasping the fabric of his T-shirt, she pulled him close until their chests bumped. “Quite. I think I might be in love with you. I’ve finally realized you’re my fated mate.”
He wrapped his arms around her, gave her a squeeze. Kissed her temple. “Took you long enough.”
“I have issues, Remy. A lot of them.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Yes, but?—”
He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Those issues are what shaped us into who we are. Our bears seem to be pretty confident we can make this work. My heart feels that way too. Maybe we should give it a try.”
“Oh, we’re not just giving it a try. We’re going all in.”
