“Does that happen to you too?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad. Not—not that you go through it too. It can be inconvenient. People think it’s weird or aloof or something. But I’m glad you know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” he said.
She giggled. He really was all out of words. She wanted to take his hand, walk closer, lean into his arm and feel the strength of it around her shoulders, a shield against Keith and anybody else who would push too close to her.
At her car he said, suddenly as if he’d been rehearsing words the whole long walk across the fairground, “Would you want to do this again?”
“I’d love to.”
“When would be good for you?”
“Tomorrow?” The word left her mouth before she could stop it. Her cheeks warmed. “I mean, or whenever.”
But her words brought a quiet light to his eyes. And that smile, quiet too, yet so real in its warmth, a fireside feeling. “Tomorrow’s the one day I can’t do.”
“Oh, right—Nathan mentioned he’d see you tomorrow. Oh, that’s the other plans you already had. Right.”
“What about Monday?”
“Yes,” she said, then stopped to think. No, no plans Monday. “I get off work at six.”
“Where would you like to go?”
Willow turned a half circle, taking in the crowds, the dust, the tents. Her choice was definite. “Somewhere quiet and indoors.”
“Let’s meet at Dodie’s Garden, unless you don’t like Italian.”
Yikes. Dodie’s was the nicest restaurant in two counties. Willow bit her lip. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then yes.”
Then they stood there. It wasn’t awkwardness seeping in; it was reluctance. She didn’t want to get into her car and drive away from him. She didn’t really want to talk either; her words were still spent. But she wanted to find a tranquil nature path and walk with him, drive to the maker-space the next town over and set up a station for herself and for him, arrange a bouquet beside him while he built trees and mountains and castles from plastic bricks.
Not today. Today was the art fair. Today was their beginning. Maybe she was ahead of herself. But she hoped not.
“I’ll see you Monday,” she said.
“Monday,” Ezra said.
Then he crossed the lot to his pickup truck, and the loss of his presence ached for a moment. This was fast, intense, yet she couldn’t turn it off, and she didn’t really want to. She pictured Ezra standing between her and the world that so often felt too big, too much. She wondered what it might be like to have a ridiculously brawny, ridiculously sexy ally to face things with. It might be really nice.
Six
Thisweek’scookoutwasat Cassius and Sydney’s, a typical pack gathering with food and games and conversation. Gladly Ezra absorbed the companionship he needed as a wolf, yet today enjoyment of his friends and family kept snagging on distraction. Willow wasn’t here. He wanted her to be. He kept his phone in his pocket, the ringer turned on, because she was actually texting him, initiating as well as responding. Every once in a while, in case he hadn’t heard a notification, he pulled his phone out to check. After all, the signal here kind of sucked. Sometimes texts or voicemails showed up in his phone silently, so he didn’t notice them for hours.
“So when are we meeting her?” Trevor said when Ezra checked his phone again, sitting in a ring of lawn chairs around the fire pit, the rest of which were empty right now as the wolves, their mates, and the pups engaged in games and other conversations. “Nathan said she seems cool.”
Ezra sighed. “I’ve been out with her once, bro. And she’s got no experience with a wolf pack, and I can’t just show up with her.” And Trevor knew all this.
“Oh, clearing her with the alpha, you mean.”
“Right.”
