As I watch him, a dark figure catches the corner of my eye. I turn my body, now acutely aware of Layla’s confession to Ghost watching her. Has he been watching me, too? I haven’t seen anyone, but I’ve been with Eddie since the tea incident. Has that scared him away?
No, it couldn’t have because the Pack members drop Layla off, and I’m sure he’s seen them with her. I jump slightly in my seat, the loud music and ambiance distracting most people as I turn to try to catch a full view. The dark figure is a tan White guy in a black hoodie with the hood up, and I can’t help but laugh at myself a little.
Maybe I’m thinking too much into this?
“What did you want to be as a kid, Willow?” Eddie suddenly asks, turning to face me. I can see his twitching fingers reaching for mine over the table. I meet his grasping hand halfway. One thing about my man is that he loves to touch. There is anundercurrent of constant contact that must fill his subconscious, and he fulfills that desire with me. I find that I love that too. Being wanted in this way is so—it’s a thrill I can’t stop chasing.
“A mom,” I answer. Even as a kid myself, I always wanted kids. Even with Milo and as young as we were, we were going to try for a cub. I never fell pregnant, which isn’t overly surprising because we were never together during a heat. A heat is the optimal time to try for a cub since that’s all my body would want during that time. Shifters are the most fertile and horny during a heat, and for most, it only takes place once a year.
“Wow, really?” He is surprised, and I am too. The distance between my family and I tends to make people think I don’t want a family, and I’d normally let them think that. With Eddie, I want to be honest. I want him to know what I truly want, and kids are something that I want to be a part of my future. I thought I lost that dream when I lost Milo, but maybe I didn’t.
Or maybe I did.
Who knows?
“I wanted to be a mom. I’ve never had a dream career. I had a dream family and having a child was the center of it.”
“I want a family too,” he says, not offering much more than that. I won’t pry, but it brought an unwarranted blush to my face. If Milo was my mate, I couldn’t have kids with Eddie, right? I couldn’t hook him to me if I wasn’t truly his mate. “Let’s go see the dogs.”
“Lets,” I agree, following Eddie’s lead to the small line in front of the gate leading to the wonderland that is Pup in a Cup. Even with Eddie by my side and knowing that the figure I saw wasn’t Ghost, I can’t help the drag of my eyes back to the front windows of the shop. I try not to let Eddie catch my worry. I know I need to tell him about what Layla told me, but this didn’t feel like the moment.
Looking back at the pen, the turf is a dull green, and the left side is lined with little obstacles painted in dainty flowers. Little teacup-inspired bean bags and chairs decorate the pen, and it’s filled with all sorts of adoptable puppies. I step inside the pen among other people, and one puppy comes dashing over, booping its little nose on the toe of my sneaker. It is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Brown floppy ears and big bright eyes greet me as I bend over to run my hands over the top of the dog’s head.
“Eddie, oh my gosh, she’s so cute,” I gush, my head whipping from the dog to Eddie and back to the dog. Maybe I can take this little one home. Nola likes Layla more than me anyway; maybe this dog would be more loyal to me.
“Are these puppies up for adoption?” I ask as the dog circles me and jumps up on my calf.
“Yeah, they are. It’s why there are all sorts of dogs—it’s a chance for them to find homes. This place gives them more exposure,” Eddie says, squatting next to me and petting the dog at my feet.
“Is it impulsive to adopt this one right here, right now?” I ask more to myself than to Eddie, though that doesn’t stop him from answering.
“See how you feel in ten minutes. You might change your mind.”
17
EDDIE
“Nola, come meet your new sister!”Willow shouts as I push open the front door to her house. She has her purse hanging off her shoulder and a small King Cavalier in her arms. I sigh as the dog licks Willow’s hand.
We waited ten minutes, then another twenty minutes while she hummed back and forth over how she would make caring for a dog work with her current lifestyle. After about three reminders that Nola is an incredibly independent cat and that Layla might not be around to help forever, I gave up on persuading her not to get the dog.
Shifters aren’t usually the type to get pets, since we turn into dangerous undomesticated animals, but Willow seems to be the exception to that trait.
“I still can’t believe you up and got a dog at the drop of a hat—are you sure you can take care of a dog?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. Once Willow started following the little dog around the playpen at Pup in a Cup, I knew there was no going back.
“I wouldn’t have gotten her if I wasn’t sure,” she says, giving the dog another smooch on the top of her head as she rushes into the house.
“Oh my goddess, Willow! She’s adorable. Wow, what’s her name? Can I have her?” Layla and Nola appear from around the corner. Layla has her arms out and Nola is tangling herself around Layla’s ankles, tripping her along their way towards Willow and the new dog. Leo gets off the couch, raising his brows at the new dog.
“Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” Leo says, giving the dog a quick pet before grabbing his little black journal in one hand and his keys in another. Willow blushes at his comment, giving him a weak shrug as Layla crowds the dog and Willow.
“Thanks man, I appreciate it,” I say, stopping him from slinking away.
“Wait, why don’t you stay for dinner?” Willow asks, and she has this innocent face—where her eyes are wide with wonder, and her brows are raised a bit. A face that’s hard to say no to.
I shut the door behind me and throw my keys in the bowl on the entryway table. I stare as the girls gush over the dog, and I feel that growing warmth in my chest. This new level of attachment settles under my skin. I’m so damn happy, yet I’m not sure this will last. The constant undercurrent of nerves fizzles under my skin, and it solidifies the fact that I need Willow Buttercup in any way I can have her.
“You can hold her. Her name is Sunny,” Willow says, as Layla fawns over the dog. Willow’s hands become free, and I shimmy my hand into hers and pull her to the living room. It’s been quite the day, and I want to cuddle my grizzly bear; I hope she’ll let me.
