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“No more secrets.”
“That works both ways, you know,” I told him dryly.
“No more secrets,” he repeated.
“No more secrets,” I promised.
“OK, then I can give you this.” He opened a small black velvet box to show me a respectable solitaire set in platinum, with scrollwork designs on the band. Well, it looked like scrollwork at first. Upon closer examination, it was—
“Are those bunnies?” I asked, squinting at the engraving.
“Just one on one side,” he said, holding the other side of the band closer so I could see the stylized wolf loping along the opposite side from the bunny. “I did a little reading. Did you know that rabbits can survive in just about any climate? Desert, tundra, forest. And in most cultures, they’re the symbol of renewal, because you can count on them, every spring, to crank out a whole new generation of little rabbits.”
“I don’t think I like where this is going, Caleb. Land your plane,” I told him.
He continued as if I hadn’t rudely interrupted his nature rant. “So I called you Rabbit at first because you ran, which wasn’t all that nice of me. But you’re also adaptable, resourceful, and no matter how hard you’re knocked down, you just keep coming back. Renewal, Tina. Starting over.”
“I get it,” I told him. “Just leave the fertility stuff out of it when you tell your family our proposal story. M’kay?”
He grinned and tried to press his case one step further. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on unlimited shared showers and naked Saturdays.”
“Every day of the week is Naked Day with you.”
“Just humor me, woman.”
“Naked breakfast on Saturdays,” I counteroffered. He groaned. “I might have to go to work or something!”
“I love you,” he told me, kissing the undamaged corner of my mouth.
I tugged at his sleeve, slowly scooting over so he could cram his large frame into the narrow hospital bed with me. “I love you, too, which is why I am also willing to offer naked Sunday brunch.”
He carefully arranged his body around mine and sighed into my hair. “You’re the best mate ever.”
“I’m working on it.”
16
The Valley Gets Even More Visitors, None of Whom We Knock Unconscious
The practically balmy March wind blew gently over my cheeks as I sat on the porch of our house and sipped my tea.
I didn’t know what Gracie put in it, and I chose not to ask. But it was a nice, calming blend that helped me unwind at the end of a long day. I was still training my nerves to wind down to a nonpanic state. When someone called me Tina, it still took me a moment to realize they were talking to me and respond. It would be a long time before I would be able to walk into a room without scouting out the exits. And I would always have a problem sitting with my back to a door. But I was slowly and steadily beginning to accept the fact that my ex couldn’t hurt me anymore, that my life was my own again.
I started talk therapy with a specialized counselor who worked out of Portland. Samantha Farraday was willing to do sessions via video chat, and we were focusing on linear discussions of “trauma,” since my experience was considered “prolonged” by my going into hiding. I liked Samantha. She didn’t accept nonsense, bullshit, or rationalizations, which was something I needed.
Caleb was supportive of the endeavor, especially if it meant I felt more comfortable getting married within the next year or so. The claiming bite could come at any time, as far as I was concerned, but Caleb wanted to make sure I was ready. For my part, I was settled. I wasn’t afraid. I knew where and with whom I would be spending my future.
I stood on the front porch, watching the sun go down over the lip of the valley. Caleb was on a patrol with the pack and would be home any minute. I finally had a home to call my own, where I was safe and loved. It would take a while to straighten out the official paperwork that would allow me to make life with Caleb permanent. Thanks to Glenn’s cyber-antics, there were a lot of debts and criminal charges in my name that needed to be cleared up. Not to mention the fact that I was still legally married.
But as far as the pack was concerned, Caleb was my mate. I was a permanent part of the pack, and I was their own. We weren’t thinking about children, but we knew it would happen eventually. We were going to let ourselves be caught off-guard by a good surprise for once.
A black SUV with heavily tinted windows crunched down Main Street, drawing stares from my neighbors. A few of the males tracked the vehicle’s progress as it approached the clinic and seemed to be stopping. I arched my eyebrows.
We didn’t get strangers here. We certainly didn’t advertise the clinic’s services outside the valley, so it was unlikely that this was a drop-in patient. I stuck my hand into my pocket, to assure myself that the special sparkly canister of pepper spray Mo had given me was still there.
A tall, willowy woman with red hair and pale skin opened the passenger-side door. She was strikingly beautiful, a sort of redheaded Grace Kelly, in her dark pea coat and celery-green turtleneck. The man who stepped out of the driver’s side didn’t quite match her elegance. He was tall and lanky, with shaggy dark blond hair and equally pale, Puckish features. His eyes were bright, full of mirth, but it was a naughty sort of humor, which had me checking my other pocket to keep a hand on my wallet. He was wearing frayed jeans and a sweatshirt that said, “It’s a bit nippley out.”
The woman watched my eyes widen, then followed my line of sight to the man’s shirt and sighed. “Damn it, Dick. I told you not to wear that! It’s off-putting!”
