“You think I’m happy about it? One of these days I’ll find myself a mate and I’ll make you miserably aroused for a change.” Despite her grumbling, she cuddles up against me. The magic connecting us warms me from head to toe, like sinking into a hot bath.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” I try to smile through the ache in my chest, to sound like I don’t care. “It was only a one-time thing.” Soon, the both of us will go our separate ways.
Truffles blinks beady black eyes at me. She bumps her snout against my hand. “What are you talking about? Gunnar is—”
The bedroom door opens. In the doorway, Gunnar carries a tray laden with food. My mouth falls open. “Oh. You’re back.”
“Aye.” Gunnar kicks the door closed behind him. “I thought you might be hungry. I caught a couple of rabbits, and Nan made this stew. Would you like some?”
My stomach roars at the savory smell. “Yes! Thank you.”
A smile brightens Gunnar’s face, his cheeks pinking adorably. He sets the tray on the dresser and adjusts my pillows so I can sit propped up. Carefully, he lays the tray in my lap, then settles in beside me. The stew looks creamy and smells incredible.
“How are you feeling?” Gunnar asks.
My arm aches when I lift the spoon, but I dunk it in the stew anyway. “Much better, thanks to you.” I give him a wink and make myself look like a fool when I drop the spoon into the bowl.
Truffles squeals and leaps onto the floor. “That got in my eye, prick!” She burrows under the bed.
“Sorry!”
“She all right?” Gunnar asks.
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “She’s a diva.” This damn spoon feels like it weighs a ton when I try to feed myself.
“Having trouble there?”
I glare at him. “Not at all.”
The spoon falls yet again, but Gunnar catches it before stew can splatter everywhere. Sighing, he lifts the spoon to my lips. “Here.” He sounds exasperated but the look on his face is surprisingly tender.
I feel like an idiot. Didn’t I promise myself I’d never be vulnerable around wolves again? But this wolf… he’s different, and I want to trust Gunnar. I slurp the soup off the spoon. The flavors and creamy texture burst across my tongue. Glancing at Gunnar, I moan my approval, which only makes his face redder.
“Cut it out,” he scolds, offering me another spoonful.
This time when he sticks the spoon in my mouth, laughter bubbles up my throat. Gunnar presses his lips together, but a smile bursts across his face, so wide it makes his eyes crinkle. It’s a miracle I don’t choke, torn between laughing and trying to eat. Gunnar’s laughter is a bright, infectious thing, and I want to bask in it like a flower in the sun.
Gunnar came back to me. He’s here.
Tension I didn’t know was there between us lifts, and I allow myself to smile at him, captivated by the warmth in his eyes. “I thought for a minute you’d run out on me. I was about to go off and find another fiancé.” I try to keep my tone light, but relief makes my throat ache.
Gunnar’s smile falters. “I’m sorry, Lo. I just… I needed space to think.”
I bite my lip so I don’t cave and ask if I did something to upset him. “Did you find it?” I ask instead.
He doesn’t answer for several seconds, stirring his spoon around in his stew. “I don’t know.” The defeat in his voice is so palpable I can almost feel it myself.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “Not your fault. I thought I was ready.”
“To?”
Gunnar’s throat bobs. “Lie with another person.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. He regrets what we did.
“I wanted it, Lo. Wanted you.” His big hand, rough from years of working with his hands but gentle all the same, settles over mine. “It was more than I expected.”
