The look on Wade’s face said he really, really didn’t.
Chapter Nine
This time, Wade was going to take her somewhere better than the food court. It would do them both good to get out of the mall for a while.
He debated restaurant choices as he slowly and carefully remove his beard. If this was going to be his first date with his fated mate, he wasn’t going to spend all night with his face still sticky with glue. He washed his cheeks and chin off, freshened up his cologne, and tried to stop his heart from racing.
Are you going to tell her tonight?his polar bear said, nudging at him.
I’m thinking about it.
Think less, talk more, his bear said, blithely unaware that that wasterribleadvice to give to anyone.
Wade did want to tell Mira everything. Of course he did. Shifter mate recognition meant that he already knew Mira Allenby was the love of his life, so he was eager to jump into the deep end of the pool. But that didn’t meanshewas ready. As far as he knew, she was human.
And in human terms, they had only known each other for two days. That was enough time to like someone and want to go on a date with them, but it didn’t mean she was ready to hear anything about destiny.
Plus, the whole “some people can turn into animals, and I’m one of those people” thing would probably be a lot to deal with too.
When he was done sprucing himself up, he went out to meet Mira.
The sight of her sank into him, and he decided he understood the idea of Cupid’s arrows a little better now. Looking at herrising up from the bench to meet him, her forest green sweater-dress tumbling down over her thighs, he felt pierced through.
He knew he’d seen her in ordinary, non-Lord of the Rings-themed clothes before, on their lunch, but that had felt casual. This was a date, and it was the first real, undeniable sign he’d had that she was starting to feel about him what he already felt about her. The mate bond was more than a heads-up about how much they could mean to each other; it was a living thing stretched out between them, thrumming with its own kind of electricity and presence. Maybe she didn’t perceive it the same way a shifter would, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t sense it at all. Suddenly, Wade knew she could. This was real for her too—real and strange and exhilarating. It was written all over her face.
“Hi,” Mira said, with a smile that almost looked giddy. “It’s nice to see you out of the suit.”
“We’re both mixing it up. I like your dress.”
A pink flush crept up her cheeks. “Thanks. So, about my voice—” She gestured at her mouth, and Wade tried not to get sidetracked by the full, glossy shape of her lips. “I’m not as hoarse as I was, but it’s probably still best if you do most of the talking tonight.”
His polar bear perked up.That gives us the perfect opportunity to tell her everything.
It did. He just wished he felt more ready to do it. But fortune favored the bold, right?
If only he could have practiced this first. He should have called up Petey and made him take a break from nonstop luaus, piña coladas, and Anne to act as a temporary sounding board. He should have rehearsed the “shifters are real” conversation with one of the giant teddy bears propped up around the Christmas Village. He should have spent years becoming asmoother, more confident speaker who could reveal a ton of staggering, bizarre information without missing a beat.
But he hadn’t done any of those things, so he was going to have to wing it.
“I can try,” he said honestly. “Anything you’re particularly in the mood for, restaurant-wise?”
“Italian? I can always go for pasta.”
“Me too. Pasta and breakfast for dinner are probably my staples, especially when it comes to what I can cook myself.”
“I’m the same way. Plus bowls of cold cereal for when I’m feeling especially lazy. That’s really my area of culinary expertise.”
“You’ll have to teach me your cereal tricks sometime,” Wade said.
“I pour cereal at an advanced level, but if you’re really prepared to learn—”
“I am.”
Mira shot him a warm look. This close, he could see how her sweater-dress brought out the dark green undertones of her hazel eyes, making them look even more striking.
“Then,” she said, “I’m sure I can have you making bowls of cereal like a pro in, say, six months. If you’re up for that much of a commitment?”
It was ninety percent banter, Wade knew, but ten percent of it was a real question. She was trying, subtly but fairly, to gauge whether he was interested in an actual relationship, or at least the chance of one.
