“But what a way to go.”
She was tempted to take another linzer cookie and eat it right here in line, but she tamped down on that urge: the desserts were for celebrating, so she was going to wait until they had somethingtocelebrate.
They’re honeymoon cookies.
“But it had to be about more than us not having a separate DMV,” she said, when she’d successfully banished her desire to break into the honeymoon sweets. “You looked really happy about it.”
Case stayed quiet for long enough for Lydia to get truly curious, and then he said, “It’s just that earlier I was thinking that with you, I’d even be happy to spend the day ... like this. In line at the DMV. Picking up dry cleaning.”
“Oh,” Lydia said, a beautiful tingling spreading through her.
This was what it felt like to have butterflies in your stomach. She’d read that expression a thousand times, but she’d never really thought about it before, let alone felt it from the inside-out.
“I don’t want to push things,” Case said uncertainly, like they weren’t minutes away from getting married.
But she knew what she meant, because she kept telling herself the same thing. Did this mean that she didn’t have to? That they were really and entirely on the same page, both falling for each other at record-breaking speed?
The butterflies flapped around exuberantly at that thought and then sank back to the pit of her stomach.
No. She wanted Case to be open about his feelings—especially, and selfishly, when they made her feel like this—but that didn’t mean she should rush into being open about hers. If he changed his mind, the last thing she wanted was for him to feel trapped here. This wasn’t the life he wanted. Lydia belonged in Mountainview, and nothing about Case’s history said that he would be happy settling down in a dead-end town. He was already helping her out more than anyone else ever could. At the end of it, he deserved to walk away.
But they could have a fling, right? It would be an unusual one, with a marriage contract and honeymoon hamantaschen, but that didn’t mean it would have to be as serious as it would probably feel on her end. It could be fun. It could be good.
Most of all, it could bememorable. She could hold onto all this even after he was gone. She was never going to have this much color and fun in her life again, so she should soak it up while she had the chance.
She would have to be careful not to make him feel like she’d be crushed when he left. She had to play it the tiniest bit cool.
“You’re not pushing things,” Lydia said. “Anyone in her right mind would love hearing that. And I know the last couple daysdon’t really seem like evidence in my favor here, but Iamin my right mind.”
That was the right tone to take, probably. Openly flirtatious but not outright head-over-heels.
But head-over-heels was exactly how she felt. According to her grandmother, Lydia had always “had a good head on her shoulders,” and somewhere along the way, she’d osmosed that that meant not ever letting her heart run away with her. She had “both feet on the ground.” She didn’t have fantasies—or if she did, she always drew a firm line between them and reality. Sure, she could turn into a werewolf, but that didn’tactuallymean the world was full of magical possibilities. Things were hard, and they required hard work, and duty and pack took precedence over everything.
Case flew in the face of all that. He believed in responsibility the same as she did, and he was willing to do whatever it took to live up to a promise, but somehow he wasn’t dull and flat like that kind of life was “supposed” to be.
Somehow he took her head off her shoulders and her feet off the ground. She had gone her whole life without being romantic, and Case made her swoon.
Now, for his sake, she had to act like he didn’t, because the responsible side of Case meant that if he knew he’d affected her the way no one else ever had, he’d feel ... obligated.
She thought her flirtatious angle might be working, though. Case looked happy, and he certainlyfelthappy as he intertwined his fingers with hers again. Operation Fling was officially in progress.
Her wolf interceded, sounding surprisingly grumpy:What is this “fling” you keep talking about? I don’t think we should fling him anywhere.
Don’t be so literal. It’s a short love affair.
We should have a long love affair with him. What good is a short one? There’s no time to do anything.
Lydia half-agreed with it, but on the other hand, she could think of several excellent, highly worthwhile things she and Case would have time for.
But mostly, she realized with a pang, they wouldn’t include the texture of ordinary life that Case had been talking about before. Flings didn’t leave much time for standing in line at the DMV or picking up dry cleaning.
It was funny that you always heard about marriages foundering when they ran out of mystery and sexiness, when they had too much dry cleaning and not enough bedroom floors littered with clothes they’d torn off in the heat of passion. And here she was, getting ready for what promised to be a scorching hot fling, wishing that she couldreallyhave the marriage she was officially signing up for.
That’s life, though, isn’t it?
You humans are always so cynical about life, her wolf said. It really was in a surprisingly bad mood for a soon-to-be alpha who’d found out it probablycouldsuccessfully protect its pack from a challenger.You always think it’s disappointing. Being alive can be fantastic.
Right now being alive means standing in line,Lydia pointed out.But at least we’re up next.
