She wondered if he was thinking about her.
Stop it,she told herself firmly.You’re borrowing trouble.
But the truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Flora had said. About rabbit mating behavior. About stamina and athleticism and all the other things that made her face flush and her stomach flip.
She’d done her research, discreetly, and the results had been… illuminating. Rabbit Others were apparently among the most physically demonstrative of the various species. Their matinginstincts were tied closely to scent and touch, driving them to form intense bonds with their chosen partners.
Chosen partners.
That was the part that stuck with her. According to everything she’d read, despite the physical intensity of the mating season, rabbit Others didn’t form attachments lightly. They would spend years alone before finding someone who triggered their bonding instincts. And once they bonded…
She swallowed hard.
Once they bonded, they bonded for life.
Was that what Ben was afraid of? Not just losing control, but losing himself entirely? Binding himself to someone so completely that there was no going back?
The timer dinged. She pulled the brownies from the oven, the chocolate scent intensifying as steam rose from the pan. She let them cool while she changed out of her jeans into a cream-colored sweater paired with a short red pleated skirt and black tights.
You’re just going to deliver some brownies,she reminded herself.Calm down.
But her hands were shaking slightly as she cut the brownies and arranged them on a plate. Her heart was pounding as she pulled on her coat and stepped out into the cold evening air.
Ben’s house loomed in the darkness, familiar and imposing. She’d made this walk before—had stood on his porch with baked goods and forced smiles and a stubborn refusal to be intimidated by his grumpiness. This shouldn’t feel any different.
But it did.
Everything felt different now. Now that she knew what he tasted like. Now that she’d felt his hands on her body and heard him admit, with that broken voice, that he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything.
She climbed the porch steps, then knocked, her hand trembling.
The seconds stretched like hours. She could hear movement inside—footsteps, a muffled curse, the sound of something being set down. Then the door swung open, and Ben was there, backlit by the warm glow of his living room, his silver-gray fur catching the light.
He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, and his ears were slightly askew, like he’d been running his hands through the fur between them. His eyes widened when he saw her, then narrowed with that familiar mix of wariness and hunger.
“Sara.”
“Hi.” Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “I brought brownies.”
His gaze dropped to the plate, then lifted back to her face. Something flickered in his expression—something soft and pained and wanting.
“You need to stop doing that.”
“Bringing you brownies?”
“Making it impossible to keep my distance.”
Her breath caught. “Maybe I don’t want you to keep your distance.”
His jaw tightened, and she watched his hands clench at his sides, claws pricking against his palms.
“Sara…”
“I’m not here to seduce you.”Exactly.“I know you need time. I respect that. But I want you to know that I’m here. That I haven’t changed my mind. That I want you to spend the Spring Festival with me, not because you’re overwhelmed by instincts, but because you want to be there.”
She held out the plate again and after a pause that stretched for eons, he took it. Relief flooded her so quickly she felt dizzy. She wanted to close the distance between them and kiss away his doubts, but instead she took a step back and made herself smile.
“Good night, Ben. Sleep well.”
