Then they ate. Willow gave a happy sigh at the first bite of her bacon burger with onions, thanked him for remembering her favorite toppings, and cheered for the sweet potato fries. She raised her eyebrows when Ezra pulled his third burger from the second takeout bag.
“Are you unusually hungry?”
“I’m always this hungry,” he said.
“You only ate two burgers at the fair.”
“Well, you didn’t know I was a wolf, and humans don’t tend to eat three burgers in one sitting. It was fine, though.” She looked ready to protest, to worry about him though it was one meal and in the past. “Really, Wil. I don’t starve if I have only two burgers for lunch.”
“Okay,” she said, and her scent leveled.
It was the sort of thing Lucy, Kelsey, or Ember would prod their wolves about, and Ezra felt the significance deep in his wolf heart. Just as he cared about Willow’s welfare, his mate cared about his. Not that this was a new thought; Willow had proved the depth of her care for him a dozen different ways by now. But each new way mattered to him. Each new way was another whisper of security echoing deep inside him, just as he sensed his mate felt secure with him.
After dinner came the final revelation of the cabin tour. Ezra’s chest remained open, his breathing easy, his heart light as he led Willow to the walkout lower level.
“I didn’t even realize it’s built into the hill this way,” she said.
“Yep. I wanted to be able to have this.” He gestured widely with one arm to the west wall and its span of built-in shelving and drawers.
Willow gasped. Slowly, one step at a time, she explored his building space. She tugged out little drawers and smiled at their organized contents. She stood gazing at his castles and cabins, islands and mountains, one after another as if this were a museum of famous works. At last she froze in front of his favorite.
“The oak tree in the meadow.”
“Yeah,” he said. Her scent was swelling with her own essence and with…admiration.
“It’s even better in person. I hope you don’t take it apart.”
He hadn’t planned to, but now he never would. He let out a growl of contentment, and Willow turned to him and set her hands on his chest. Without a word, she angled her face upward and rose on her tiptoes. Ezra’s growl deepened. Then he took her lips with his. They hadn’t kissed since the wolf council, and he didn’t want this kiss to be like the start of that one, desperate and defiant. He didn’t want this kiss to be like the end of that one either, deliberately softened. He wanted this kiss to be simple. As simple as two people recognizing in each other a similar soul.
Willow met him there, kissed him slowly and gently, and the taste of her brought heat to his blood and joy to his wolf heart. Her hands moved down his chest, around to his back, and then pulled him in closer to her. He cupped the back of her head, and the kiss went on as both of them took their time to make it sweet for the other. At last they pulled back, both breathing hard.
“You aresogood at that,” Willow said as if complaining.
“And you’re perfect,” he said, pushing his fingers into the softness of her curls.
Her scent gained a hint of sour even as she pressed her cheek to his chest.
He stroked her hair. “What is it, Wil?”
“Just…you know. Perfect. I don’t usually hear that word applied to…well, me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. It’s usually applied to women who look like your sister-in-law. Narrow hips, flat stomach.”
Her tone was calm, almost indifferent. Her scent was anything but. A sour old wound festered deep in his mate’s heart. The judgment of her body by other people—maybe an old boyfriend, maybe other women, maybe ads and “reality” shows that chose to display only specific types of beauty. Ezra took one step back and cupped her face gently to tilt her head. She met his eyes with acceptance that this was how the world worked—a woman as beautiful as she was would be judged for the very curves that drove him crazy. He shook his head.
“I’ve never been attracted to Kelsey, not for one minute. She’s been my little sister since she was in kindergarten with Trevor. And anyway, can you picture her standing still long enough to enjoy an art fair or a museum? Trev and Kels gallivant all over the place, jumping off rocks and swimming under waterfalls and everything else they do for fun, and they never pause long enough to read the historical plaques along the pathway.”
Willow giggled. “I can see them dashing right past a plaque on the pathway.”
“All decked out in elite athletic wear. It works for them. They’re ridiculously happy together.” But he was straying from the point. He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, though she hadn’t shed any tears. “Willow,youare my own perfect mate. Perfect for me. Perfectly sexy. You take my breath sometimes. It takes my breath that my mate is so totally beautiful.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. This time their kiss caught fire. This time he could hardly pull back, but at last they both did, an unspoken agreement as to how far was far enough.
“One more thing to show you,” he said. He gestured to one of his four building tables, which stood empty in a corner. “I cleared this off yesterday. I thought if you wanted to come over sometimes with one of your projects—historical documents to sort through, or flowers to arrange, or whatever—you could work here while I build. We could talk sometimes and be quiet sometimes.”
Willow stepped over to the table and ran her palm across the smooth wood surface. “I love it. I love having a place to work that’s…”
