Our coffee was long gone when the workers started to clean the room. We should’ve picked a place that was open longer in theevenings, but we didn’t. And now it was time to go. At the time, their shorter hours were one of the reasons this place had been perfect, and now I was inwardly cussing them.
What was wrong with me?
“Promise me you’re telling the truth,” I said. “That you’re not keeping a panther and that you don’t know someone who’s keeping a panther.”
“I promise.” He crossed his heart, elementary playground style. “I have no wild animals being held by me or anyone I know. I don’t even know a zookeeper, if that helps.”
At first the zookeeper comment came across as light teasing, but something told me he was being serious… like he was saying anything he could to get me to believe him.
“This is going to sound... I don’t know what it’s going to sound like, but I’m just gonna say it. Can I see you again?” Lincoln came across as nervous and shy for the first time.
But also, he was right, it sounded out of place at best. And yet… I wanted to say yes. And so I told him that. He might’ve been hiding things from me, but I wasn’t the type to match that energy. That would get us nowhere and fast.
“I want to,” I said, shoving my hands in my front pocket, “but I feel like you’re lying, so it’s probably not a good idea. I don’t do well with lies.”
“I know you don’t, and I promise you I’m not lying to you.”
“But you’re not telling the truth, either.” Which was the same thing in my book.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “It’s not lies, and it’s not menottelling the truth. It’s just... parts of my life are secret.”
“Secrets are worse. I’m sorry, but it’s a no for me. And I really will call someone if I find out that you have a panther.”
“I assure you I’m not keeping a wild animal. And I promise you, if we meet again, I’ll tell you everything. No secrets, no lies, no withholdings. But here...” He looked around, and sure enough, there were employees standing close by. “Here is not the place.”
I should have said no. I wanted to say no. I couldn’t say no. I had to see him again. The pull was too strong.
“One more chance,” I said. “That’s all you get. One more chance.”
5
LINCOLN
How am I going to make it home?
I sat in the driver’s seat with my trembling hands gripping the wheel.
Bronson was my mate. I’d scented him before I sat down because the breeze was blowing in my direction.
Go back and claim him.
Can’t. Right now he thinks I’m lying to him.
If Bronson was a shifter, we’d have been mated, marked, and cuddled together in bed by now. Instead, he was wary of me, and my heart and my beast longed to take him captive until he agreed to be mine.
My head was so full of Bronson sipping coffee, Bronson with a cappuccino mustache, Bronson’s gravelly voice, Bronson this and that, that I arrived home with no memory of how I got here.
Pulling into the driveway too fast, I narrowly avoided knocking over the mailbox. I rested my head on the wheel, wishing I could click my fingers and make everything all right.
Though Bronson hadn’t called the cops or tossed pepper spray at me, he left our date that wasn’t a date thinking I was lying. To be fair, he’d had that same opinion before we met, and I’d confirmed it by refusing to tell him the truth.
I thought back to his scent that cut through the coffee and danish aromas and smacked me in the face. It’d taken all my strength not to blurt out that I loved him with every molecule in my body.
Huh?My beast sneered at me trying and failing to sound profound.Molecules aren’t romantic, whatever they are.
I’d doubled down on that ridiculous wildlife photographer story. Damn, I took pics with my phone and wouldn’t know which way was up with a camera. I’d ducked and weaved and lied rather than telling Bronson the truth.
He’d leaned back and crossed his arms while peppering me with questions. He looked at me as though he was trying to decide if I was dangerous or just sad.
