He glances around. A lioness passes with her eyes flicking up to us then training themselves very carefully on the ground. He waits until she’s past. Then he looks back at me and points at the apex of my thighs without an ounce of subtlety. “That thing right there.”
My mouth drops open, and my tail comes up and loops around his face, my tassel pressing firm over his lips. “Shh.We are in the Lion Shifter Wing.”
He raises his eyebrows at me over the curve of my tail, and I hiss, “Grr,Aaron?—“
He pushes my tail away from his mouth with the back of his. “You wanted the truth. I just want to be with you. Laid up inthat.” He points again, lower this time but no less shameless, and my tail comes around full force and cracks him across the back of his head.
“Ah—damn, Mara?—“
“I want to start a family with you, Aaron.” The anger has drained out of my voice all at once. I press my lips together, but my face gives me away anyway.
The tease falls off his mouth. His coffee cup lowers to his side, and his face goes soft. “Okay, baby. Okay. I swear I’ll get on it.” He steps in closer and tries to pull me in, but my face is already saddening at the corners of my mouth, and he feels it under his hands and tips his forehead against mine. “Please don’t give me that face.”
I let him pull me into his arms. His arm goes around my waist and his other hand stays careful with the coffee.
“I’ll go see my mother at lunch,” he says into my hair. “Let her know we’ll be there for the weekend. I’ll take you to Levi’s personally, and I’ll tell him right in front of you to start breaking ground on our home.”
“You promise?”
He pulls back enough to look at me, and his eyes aren’t on my mouth this time. They’re taking all of me in, and his voice drops low. “Mara. When you so much as pout at me, baby, it makes me want to fall to my knees right here in front of everybody. Whatever you want, you tell me. I will move the Witching Glen to get it for you, if that’s what it takes.”
Heat climbs my neck.
“You’re about to start your teaching position.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering there, breathing me in once. Then he steps back, pulls the door open, and holds it for me. “Go in there and be a teacher, baby.”
I start to step inside, the smile already breaking across my face. And then halfway through the door a wave of something hits me, and my tail goes up on alert behind me, and I turn back to him.
“Aaron. Do you want to build a family with me?”
His face goes serious, his brow tightening at me across the threshold. “Of course I do, Mara. Please—don’t let me have ruined this day for you. It was supposed to be special.” And then his mouth curves. “Get back out here and kiss me, right now, or I swear to Mother Fate I will drop to my knees in this doorway and grovel until you smile at me, and I don’t care how many lionesses walk past.”
“No—“ I gasp, stepping back out to him, my hand flying to his elbow as his knees actually start to bend, “—Aaron,stop?—“
“Don’t play with me, Mara. I’ll do it.”
I laugh, and I grab his face in both hands and kiss him fast and hard. “Okay.Okay, I’ll let it go. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
I step back and look at him one last time, and then I walk into the Lion Shifter Wing for real. Behind me the door eases closed, and I catch one last glimpse of him through the narrowing gap,leaning against the wall with his coffee, watching me go. I climb the stairs with my tail swaying behind me.
I’m ten minutes into my first class when I pass out the first assignment, and a voice from the second row lets out a long wounded sound.
“It’s the first day, Mrs. Blackwood.”
The stack of papers in my hand stops, and I’m suddenly aware of the weight of them against my palm.
My lion sits straight up inside me.
I turn slow, and the lioness who spoke stiffens in her chair the moment she sees my face. She is young, tall even sitting down, her hair in two thick braided coils. Her tail goes still. I know her. She’s from my pride. Her mother used to bring braided sweetgrass to my mother’s kitchen every new moon when I was small.
“I’m sorry, Professor, I—“ Her hands come up, placating, her tail tucking tighter under her chair.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Amani, Professor.” She says it carefully, like she’s waiting for me to correct her.
“You can call me Mrs. Blackwood. That’s fine.”
