“How did your mom handle that?” Willow’s arms snake around my waist. She rests her check in my neck, cuddling up to me all cute as if I hadn’t shared the not so glamorous parts of my life.
“The best she could. Worked two jobs around the clock. Put me in the best schools. Did what a parent does. She didn’t find her passion till I was grown and moved out. She wasn’t always a cook, but when she cooked at home, she made the best dishes.”
“And now she’s happy working at Eleanor’s Diner, making delicious food for the paranormals of Rainfall Avenue. Being the sole reason I don’t starve,” Willow says with rosy cheeks, her warm breath hitting my neck, heating the rest of my body like liquid fire. Tucking her head firmly into my neck, I lay my head against hers.
“Exactly.” We stand in comfortable silence. I wait, loving that I get the chance to feel her in my arms again. I thought I’d be smarter about finding a way to prolong this moment, but all I want to do is stand here. Maybe I can memorize this hug, and it’ll be enough.
“I finished the book we bought from Written Memories,” I say, resting my chin on the top of her head.
“Did you enjoy it?” she asks with a rushed exhale at the end. She tries to look up at me, but I keep my chin planted. I don’t want to ruin this moment.
“It was okay.” I sound breathless. I have to slow myself down, slow my words down, before everything spills out of me and leaves me wide open for an attack.
“Willow, what did Chole tell Harry to do when his family’s inn was on the verge of being sold?”
“Don’t let a good thing slip past him.”
“And what did he say next?” I ask, egging her on.
“That Chole was completely, and utterly right.”
“Right,” I say, biting my lip. I finally let her go, not completely, but enough to see her eyes, her round nose, and plump lips.
“What did Harry do next?”
“He kissed her,” Willow whispers, leaning her head to the side as I wrap my hands around her neck. I finally kiss her. I’d wanted to be gentle, I’d wanted to be smooth, but the moment my lips meet hers, any semblance of control slips from me. She kisses me back as furiously as I came on to her. Pressing her body flush against mine. I can’t get enough. I walk our bodies into the counter behind her. Caging her in, and even then, it isn’t enough. I need to be one with her. This woman is going to fucking ruin me, and I can’t stop her from doing so anymore. My hand lands above her head, leaning my weight on the cabinets behind her. Her hands have a field day against my chest, the cotton of my shirt rubbing my skin as her hands move. It is like having the spark of an idea for the first time, thrilling and overwhelming, and I want the feel of her lips on mine every waking chance I’ll ever get. She could consume me now, and it still wouldn’t be enough. But eventually, we have to break away.
“I can’t let this pass,” I say, truly breathless and with my heart hanging on a thin string between us.
“I can’t either,” she mumbles. She had a mate, she’d found her one true love, and maybe one day I will too. We’ll have to live in the moment if this is going to work. I will cherish our timetogether as if it will last forever. She pulls my head back down for another kiss, this time a quick one. “We’ll go slow.”
“As slow as the both of us need,” I confirm, pushing a stray curl away from her face. I can’t help the smile on my face; I’m a schoolboy again with his first love, and I’ll take this childish moment if it means being with Willow. She smiles up at me, and, my fucking goddess, it lights the best fire in my chest. I let a small laugh fall past my lips. I can’t help but whisper her name repeatedly, pulling her hands into mine. It is time to get Buttercup back home for dinner.
“Willow Buttercup, is that you?” an excited voice shouts from the front entryway. My mother steps onto the rug at the front door. Wiping her feet and coming towards us. Willow slips out of my arms with a jump. Her lips form an embarrassed smile, and a red undertone flushes her cheeks. She turns around, close enough for me to grab her and press her back to my front, causing a gasp to slip past her lips. It’s nothing too crazy or too close since my mother is here, but enough that she can’t hide from this, from me.
On the surface, I know Willow can’t be my mate. We’re taught as kids that each shifter only has one mate, but as we grow up, we learn nothing is ever clear-cut and perfect.
The Moon Goddess never created a book of rules with unambiguous rules for paranormals to follow. We learn of her and the ways of our world by word of mouth, which has proven time and time again to not always be the most reliable. Multiple mates exist. A person can have two mates, three mates, even, like a man I met on a project down in Texas: he had two mates and they were all mated to each other. The belief is that each shifter has one mate, but I’ve seen with my own eyes that there are exceptions. Maybe Willow and I are an exception. Deep down, something tells me to hold on tight to her, and I can’t ignore my instincts anymore. Even if Milo was her mate, that doesn’t meanI’m not also her mate. There’s a possibility, and I’ll have to spend the time she’ll allow us to be together, proving I could be her fated mate.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I have to let Willow go, all the way this time, so I can give my mom a hug. I saw her yesterday for lunch. She pressed and pressed me for details about who had my attention. I hadn’t told her who it was, and now she doesn’t have to guess who.
“I can’t check on my son’s biggest project yet? It’s coming along well! The walls are finally up,” she says, twirling around to view the house again. Her blue sundress twirls around her, and I can’t say I’m mad at her for being here. She’s so happy now. My mom has gone through hell, and she’s made it out the other side with a smile and all her hair; no thanks to me.
“You’ve already been here for your weekly visit,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay, you’ve got me. I was dropping off some chili when I saw you and a woman walk off in this direction. I had to meet her. Only to realize it’s Willow,” she says with a sheepish smile and turns her attention back to Willow. “Darling, how are you doing?”
“I’m doing good, Ms. Harrow. How have you been?”
“Oh, just living life, dear. Why haven’t I seen you and the girls at Eleanor’s this month?”
“Oh, you know, life. Luxe is picking up extra shifts, and Flora is off with Dylan doing lord knows what.”
“Distracting him from his missions, probably,” Mom says with a chuckle. “Well, I’ll expect to see you soon. Bring Eddie along with you.”
“Mom,” I say, trying to warn her off the trail she is riding down.
“No, Eddie. You haven’t been on a date since... What was her name? Charlie?”
