Well, it was a little bit of a relief that he couldn’t do it now. The moment had passed. Lydia had gotten her good long sniff of him, and now she was—with a frustrated sigh—levering herself out of bed to put some clothes on.
“I liked it better when they were coming off,” Case said, with exaggerated sadness, but he reached for his own clothes.
Unsurprisingly, Lydia dug into her overnight bag for a change so she wouldn’t have to shimmy back into the red dress. Case hoped it was on the comfortable side, as far as formalwear went, but that didn’t mean it was the kind of thing anyone wanted to lounge around in.
Lydia reached for another flannel shirt, but then she closed her hand into a fist and stepped back from the bag.
“The tank top is fine on its own, right?” she said, giving him an uncertain glance.
“Sure.”
It wasn’t even a flimsy, spaghetti-strapped camisole: it was sturdy, ribbed cotton, in a creamy color that looked especially gorgeous on her. Case didn’t know why she was insecure about it.
He ventured a guess he was already sure didn’t cover half of it: “Too warm for the flannel?”
Lydia gave him a sheepish smile and shook her head. “No, it’s not that. And I like my usual look, trust me. I just felt like I wanted something ... different. For tonight, with you.” She ran her hands over her bare arms, like she was still getting used to showing that much skin, even in such an innocent way.
Then he thought he understood. The tank top wasn’t as deliberately sexy as the red dress had been (even though Case certainly thought it had its own appeal). But it was vulnerable in its own way. Lydia’s usual clothes felt like armor to her, and this left her comparatively exposed. It was a softer, more open look than she would have usually had around the pack, where she always had to be strong.
“You had your wedding dress,” Case said quietly, “and now you’ve got your trousseau. Isn’t that what it’s called? What you wear to bed on your wedding night?”
Lydia’s smile turned less sheepish and more warm. “I’m not sure. I think the trousseau might be everything a bride brings with her, traditionally, like the sheets and stuff, not just the lingerie. And obviously this isn’t lingerie. But you’re right, it feels like that. I know it’s weird.”
“We’re werewolves,” he pointed out. “I know I’m new to the whole thing, but I think we can be weird and have it be par for the course.”
“That’s probably true.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, and he settled in beside her, tentatively putting his arm around her and loving it as she leaned against him. “Is there anything else you want to ask me about that, by the way? Aside from the smelling thing?”
He was sure he’d think of a thousand questions as they went on, but this wolf wasn’t at the forefront of his mind right now. She was.
Should he push all that to the side and rack his brain for anything wolf-related?
No, he decided.Not if she’s okay with me asking her about other stuff instead.
“I’m going to have a lot to ask you about that,” he said carefully, “but I have a lot I want to ask you about you, too.”
He waited for the warning sign of her going stiff and awkward, but to his relief, it didn’t come.
“You can do that too,” Lydia said. “But I should warn you that I don’t come with any interesting stories.”
“I’m interested in whatever you do come with.”
“Flatterer,” she said lightly.
“It’s the truth.” If she was being open, he could be too. She was baring her arms, so he’d bare his heart.
Okay, those are not the same concepts at all. But I’m going with it anyway.
He wasn’t sure where to start, so he picked a topic almost at random. “I don’t really know what you do for a living.”
She elbowed him gently. “Wow, sounds like you really rushed into this marriage, Case. You don’t even know your wife’s job?”
“Or your middle name. I know it was on the paperwork, but we were so rushed, I didn’t see.”
“Sofia,” she said promptly. “Lydia Sofia Vasquez. Sofia was my mom’s name—so was the Vasquez, actually. Ruth is my dad’s mom. His name was Lloyd. You? I didn’t check on the license either.”
“Parents or middle name?”
“Both.”
