ConventionaldatingwisdomtoldEzra to ask everybody but Willow what to do for their next date and then surprise her. Except this seemed like the opposite of what Willow would want. He overanalyzed strategies for a whole day, then realized there was actually only one thing to do. On Wednesday, three days after the wolf council and subsequent visit to the police station, Ezra texted her.
Ezra:Could I take you on a date tonight? Just us? It feels like a month since our last one.
Willow:Our last date sort of needs to be redeemed anyway. The aftermath of it, that is.
Ezra:That too. What can I do for you? What kind of date would you like?
She didn’t respond for a few minutes, and he paced in the break room at work, ignoring his boss Joe’s curious glance. At last his phone vibrated in his hand.
Willow:All I really want is an evening with you. The lowest low-key possible.
Low-key sounded great. He could show her what he’d been working on, including one surprise that wouldn’t stress her out, that he hoped would make her happy.
Ezra:You’ve got it. Come over after work, and you can see my house. I’ll take care of dinner and show you my building room.
Willow:I can’t imagine a better date right now. Thanks, Ez. My shift ends at 5:00, so I’ll actually be home right when you are.
He knew her burger preferences thanks to the art fair food truck, and he ordered the same toppings from the all-natural burger place in town. His wolf palate would always prefer Malachi’s wild game to any human-raised beef, but this place held a strong second in his rankings. He got two varieties of fries—sweet potato and regular crinkle-cut—unsure what she’d like. He smiled when he pulled into his driveway; Willow’s car already waited for him.
“Perfect,” he said when they met at the porch. “Food won’t cool too much.”
“Do I smell burgers?” Willow said.
“Yep.”
“Yay,” she said with a tired grin.
Warmth filled his chest as he braced his arm around her and she leaned into his support. “Clearly a night in was the right choice.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t turn out to be the mate of a wolf who likes to bar-hop and play loud music.”
A chuckle shook his chest. “Pretty sure fate would never do that to you.”
In his foyer, Willow stood still for a long moment. She seemed to take in everything—wood floor, light-gray walls with dark trim accents, the framed watercolor of a weathered Scottish castle.
“Is that an original?” Willow pointed to the art.
“Yeah, I bought it at the fair last year. I liked all the angles against the sky.”
“It’s very you.” She smiled. “And I like it too.”
Farther into the cabin, walking through to his living room and dining room, she was quiet, absorbing it all. She ran one finger along an end table and said, “These are really neat, this two-tone wood. Are they from the art fair too?”
Before he could respond, she gave a little gasp.
“The legs end in wolf paws! Did you have them commissioned?”
“Yep,” he said. “By my brother.”
“Ohh. I know he’s in contracting, but I didn’t realize he’s a carpenter too, like a real actual carpenter. This work is gorgeous.” She crouched and ran her hand down one of the table legs, then rubbed her thumb over each of the carved toes and claws. “Wow, Ez. He’s really good.”
“So you like them? The dining table legs are like this too.”
“I love them. They’re so…I don’t know, meaningful, I guess. I love how many things in your home represent who you are.”
“Well, good, because Trevor teased me for days. Said I’m the one claiming to enjoy art, but I’ve clearly got no sense of subtlety if I want actual wolf paws carved into my furniture.”
Willow’s laugh pealed. “He really can’t help messing with you.”
