That makes him pause. We've talked about this: how much of our life together I can share, how to maintain his privacy while still being authentic in my content.
"What do you tell them?" he asks.
"That you're shy. That you value your privacy. That some things are meant to be kept sacred." I cross to him and wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against hissweat-slicked back. "I'd never expose you, Rhett. You know that, right?"
His hand comes up to cover mine. "I know."
"Good." I kiss his shoulder blade, tasting salt. "Because you're mine, and I don't share."
He turns in my arms, and there's heat in his eyes. "Possessive."
"You made me this way. All that 'mine, mine, mine' stuff during sex. It goes both ways, buddy."
"Good," he rumbles, pulling me closer. "I like you possessive."
The bear likes it too. I can feel it purring through our bond, something that's gotten stronger over the past month. I can sense Rhett's emotions now, feel when the bear is close to the surface, know when he needs space or touch or just my presence.
It should be overwhelming. Should feel like too much, too invasive.
Instead, it feels right. Like this is how it's always supposed to have been.
"My mom wants to meet you," I say, resting my head against his chest.
He goes still. "What?"
"She's been asking. Says any man who makes her daughter this happy deserves a proper introduction."
"Autumn—"
"I know. I know it's complicated. But she's not going to judge you. She's the most open-minded person I know. And I've already told her you're... different. Not the shifter thing," I add quickly, feeling his tension spike. "Just that you're private. Reclusive. That you've been through things."
"What did you tell her about us?"
"That we're together. That I'm happier than I've ever been. That I might be spending more time up here than in town from now on." I pause. "She asked if you're good to me."
"What did you say?"
"That you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
His arms tighten around me. The bond floods with emotion: gratitude, disbelief, fierce protectiveness, and something deeper. Something he hasn't said out loud yet but that I feel every time he looks at me.
Love.
He's falling in love with me. Maybe already has fallen. And I'm falling right back, tumbling head over heels for this grumpy, broken, beautiful man and his bear.
"I don't know how to meet parents," he admits. "Never did it before. Never had reason to."
"You just show up and be yourself. She'll love you."
"I'm not exactly lovable."
"I beg to differ." I pull back enough to look up at him. "And you don't have to decide right now. Just think about it, okay? She's important to me, and you're important to me, and I'd like my two favorite people to know each other."
He cups my face with one large hand, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. "I'll think about it."
"That's all I ask."
He kisses me then, and I melt into it. A month of this and I'm still not used to how good it feels. How right. When we break apart, he's looking at me with that intense focus that still makes my stomach flutter.
