I cut across two lanes, checking my mirrors just enough to avoid disaster while mentally rerouting my journey to Nika. I was doing everything but trying to think of what to get her. I didn’t have a clue.
“Hey Siri, call Mum.”
Great save, Kael said.
Yeah, women had intuition. They just knew things that men didn’t.
??????
Thirty-nine minutes later I was considerably calmer and pressing her buzzer.
“Hello?” Her voice crackled through what sounded like an intercom system that had been installed before either of us was born.
I glanced around. The street was empty.
“It’s your favourite wolf,” I said, pressing the button.
“Come on up. I hope you’re wearing your groin protector,” she said, and buzzed me in.
I couldn’t tell her I had years of fighting and training behind me. That information was unlikely to work in my favour at this stage.
I made my way to her floor.
Nothing prepared me for the sight of her in the doorway.
Red against black fitted trousers. The cut of her top drawing the eye immediately to her neck—black at the neckline that transformed into a black tie resting against the red. Shoulders bare, the sleeves somehow holding their position close to her elbows in defiance of all reasonable expectation.
She was completely covered.
I was still malfunctioning.
“Are you coming inside?”
“I will never say no to that question,” I said, placing a solemn hand over my heart.“Never.”
“You know what I meant,” she muttered, stepping aside as I chuckled.
Her scent surrounded me the moment I crossed the threshold. Then the warmth of food reached me—something rich and real, the kind of smell that settled something animal and fundamental. Basic necessities. No need to hunt.
The door closed behind me. I turned and offered her the gold gift bag.
“Thank you for your kind invitation,” I said.
“More like blackmailed,” she grumbled, but took it from me with a smile.“You shouldn’t have.”
You almost didn’t, Kael snarked.
We were both invested in her reaction.
She pulled the glass bottle out—no doubt expecting alcohol—but it was premium cold-pressed extra virgin olive oil. She peered into the bag before glancing up at me.
“This is too much, but it is very much appreciated,” she said, placing the bottle carefully back and lifting the small glass jar wrapped in tissue.
I took the bag from her so she could unwrap it properly.
She gasped.
“This is so adorable.”
