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I laughed. “Only in the best way possible.”

“I love you, Charlotte.”

I froze. He’d certainly been saying that a lot lately.

“It’s okay,” he said with a sad sort of smile. “I trust that, eventually, you will feel it as well. And until that time, I will enjoy loving you.”

Pushing back the tears that threatened to escape, I answered him with a kiss.

“Let me get you some orange juice and biscuits,” he offered.

“Not yet. Let’s stay like this for a while.” I curled into him, feeling safe and cared for.

Pulling the blankets up over us, Julian held me to him.

I hated waiting to work on my investigations. It wasn’t fair to Lydia or the child in my vision. But if I had to hold off, there was no place I’d rather be.

Chapter Three

A Wolf and a Vampire Walk onto a Base

“Do you think we should let Sam know about my vision?” I asked, pacing between Julian’s kitchen island and green floral sofa from the 70s.

My vampire glanced up from the stove where he currently worked on making us dinner and considered. “I would rather rule out his involvement first.”

I stopped at the island. It was difficult to be mad when he was wearing a white apron and holding a wooden spoon covered in pasta sauce.

“I know you trust him,” he said. “And I trust you, so if that’s what you would like to do, I will support it.”

“Better,” I said, taking a sip of red wine from the glass he’d poured me when he started.

“I’m learning,” he announced and offered me a taste of Alfredo.

The creaminess made me flutter my eyelids and moan. Julian’s fangs extended slightly as he watched me, and I sensed that I might end up tied to the bed again instead of eating if I wasn’t careful.

“Would you be upset if I invited Sam to dinner?” I asked, grabbing hold of his hand on the spoon.

“I would do anything for you,” he said, not really answering my question, then added, “I better make more chicken.”

* * *

The last thing I expected upon opening the door was for Sam’s hulking frame to be shifting nervously from foot to foot. Despite the casualness of his jeans and tight T-shirt, the werewolf’s silvery gaze darted around the house worriedly.

With a sigh, I took his oversized hand and tugged him inside. “Thank you for coming, Sam.”

“Well, I hardly ever turn down food,” he said with a laugh, finally relaxing enough to meet my gaze. “And you said it was important.”

“It is. It involves a vision I had and shifters. I’ll tell you more over dinner. Julian’s made a feast for us.”

“I…” Sam didn’t finish his thought, instead running a hand back through his golden-brown hair that fell to his shoulders then rubbing the stubble on his face.

“I have not poisoned the food,” Julian announced with a clap of his hands as he entered the room. He, too, was dressed casually, for him anyway, with the top button of his violet shirt undone and no jacket. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, displaying open body language, even a slight slouch that looked horribly unnatural on his typically rigid frame.

I could have kissed him for trying so hard.

“I never said you did.” Sam strode to the table, already set with Caesar salad and bowls of steaming pasta, sauce, and meat. A basket of garlic bread sat in the corner, filling the space with an aroma that made my stomach grumble.

Julian forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “I would like to apologize for my assumptions regarding your behavior with Dr. Devaux the last time we…saw each other.”