Page 38 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

Death by dimples.

I sighed. Ty looked like he’d walked off one of the covers of those steamy books hidden in the back of the grocery store.

I stuttered, my feet moving of their own accord as I reached for my coat. Warm hands found mine as Ty slid my hand into the crook of his elbow. My stomach swooped, my lashes fluttering.

Gently, he steered me away from the front door.

My brows pinched, and he grinned.

“I thought we could dine in tonight. If that’s okay?”

That silken voice brushed over my skin like crushed velvet. His lips grazed the corner of my mouth. It was chaste but still set my entire body aflame. It left me aching, wanting more. I wanted to feel the full weight of his lips on mine.

“Mia. If you’d rather go out, I would be more than happy to show my beautiful date off.”

His deep timbre cut through my inappropriate thoughts. I blinked, my shoulders sagging. While I enjoyed the idea of going out to some opulent restaurant, I’d always prefer staying in.

“In sounds perfect.”

My fingers rested on his arm as he led me into the dining room.

A strong hand steadied me on my lower back as I stumbled. Dozens of candles illuminated the space, their flickering flames bathing the room in a romantic glow. Rosemary and garlic wafted nearby, mixing with something savory that made my mouth water.

White linen cloth covered the massive oak table, a spread of pasta and bread already laid out.

“Ty. You did all of this?”

The words came out in a broken chuckle.

“For us.”

A smile spread across his cheeks. He pulled out my chair, holding out his hand to guide me like some Bridgerton Lord, and I adored it.

Every moment.

My omega purred, prancing like a prized pony.

It had been… never… No one had ever spoiled me like this before.

Well, not since… Shane.

I shoved aside any thoughts of teenage Shane and me, focusing entirely on Ty.

Once I lowered into the chair, Ty settled into the seat next to me. Apparently, I forgot how to use my limbs, because I sat there like a statue. A tender smile found me as Ty filled my plate with enough carbs to topple a small village.

“Anything you don’t like?”

“I’m not picky,” I murmured.

A mountain of food sat in front of me. Ty moved closer. I moaned, eager to lean and lap at the bond marks on his neck where the scents of our pack were the strongest.

Our pack.

Shit.

I was in so much trouble.

I fumbled for the fork, trying and failing to ignore Ty’s adoring gaze lingering on the column of my throat. Tentatively, his hand rested on my thigh, his thumb playing with the hem of my dress and skating over my bare skin.