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Tav goes quiet. He looks at me for a long moment.

Then he bends his head, slowly, all the way down, until the base of his horn is right in front of me, and holds still.

“Yes,” he says.

I put my palm flat against it, where the scuff is. It’s warm and smooth and ridged, and under my hand, I feel him shudder, his whole huge body, all the way down. His breath goes out of him hard through his nose, hot against my wrist. I run my thumb slowly over the scrape.

“Boss,” he says, very low. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to need a minute before I can stand up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” I say, and take my hand away, and step in between his knees.

Sitting down, he’s my height. His knees are on either side of my hips like the arms of a chair. Up close, he smells like hay and clean sweat and the sweet, green smell of mint from the truck, and his eyes are the warm brown of strong coffee, and they’re very wide.

“Tara,” he says. Not Boss. Just my name, careful, like he’s checking.

He doesn’t move. I can feel how carefully he isn’t moving. His hands are flat on his thighs, and they’re bigger than my head.

“You’re scared you’ll hurt me,” I say.

“I’m scared I’ll do it wrong.” His ears tip back. “I’m not shaped like the others.”

“I noticed.”

He snorts. “Funny.”

“I’m serious.” I put my hands on either side of his muzzle. His face is warm under my palms, short velvet fur over solid bone, and the brass ring is cool against my thumb. “I want to kiss you, Tav. I’ve wanted to since you picked up that table. Let me figure out the shape.”

He lets out a long breath, and the last of the stiffness goes out of his shoulders.

So I kiss him.

It’s different from anyone. His mouth is broad and warm, and I have to tip my head to fit against him, and his breath is hot against my cheek. He lets me find the angle. He holds still and lets me work it out, his hands still flat on his thighs. Then he makes that low sound again, deep in his chest, and his hands come up.

They’re enormous. One of them spans the whole of my back, from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. The other slides into my hair and closes, and tips my head exactly where he wants it.

Then Tav kisses me.

He isn’t careful anymore. He kisses me hard and deep and sure, like he’s been thinking about this since the delivery truck on Sauvie Island, and when I make a sound against his mouth, he pulls me straight off my feet and onto his lap like I weigh nothing. His knees close in on either side of me. His chest is a wall of heat against mine. I grab the front of his shirt with both hands and hang on, and I forget we’re on a loading dock.

When we finally come apart, his ears are pinned flat, and he’s breathing like he carried another table.

“Okay,” I say, a little dizzy. “So that works.”

“That works,” Tav agrees. He doesn’t let go of me. “Took you three hours in a truck and a harpy bachelorette party.”

“You said forty words on that truck.”

“I was nervous.”

“You were nervous?”

“Boss.” He leans his forehead against mine, carefully, horns angled up and away. “You’d just said yes to dinner with a vampire. You live with a demon. And William turned to stone holding your hand.” His ears flick. “I’m the one who knows a lot about mint.”

I laugh into his muzzle. He grins, which is a strange and wonderful thing to watch on a face like his, and kisses me once more, softly, and lets me go.