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There was joy, utter and sheer joy, in his eyes. “You don’t just run. You love running,” I said.
“Shifter,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “Running is life. Running is Pack. It’s prey and escape and companionship. There’s very little shifters love more.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Well, obviously we also lovethat. Immensely.” He looked around at the park. Mums bloomed on the pathway; frogs croaked in the darkness nearby. “I run here from NAC headquarters. It’s a longer route than from the town house, but it’s quiet, peaceful.”
A frog let out an enormous croak.
“Mostly quiet and peaceful,” he amended, and looked back at me, smiled.
“Why not run as a shifter?”
“Because humans tend not to like seeing a wolf run past their windows. They think we’re going to eat their corgis.”
I looked at him, considered. “How many times have you had to shift naked in front of animal control?”
He grinned. “Twice before I learned my lesson.”
He’d wanted to run to help me settle my nerves. But not just that, I realized. If all failed tonight, if we were hurt or separated, we’d still have had this moment together.
“Thank you.”
Connor nodded, brushed a finger along my cheek. “You’re welcome.” Then he rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms. “Back to the town house?”
“I’ve got a little more in me,” I said, and the monster pinged me with interest. I glanced at Connor. “You want to race the monster?”
That he looked at me with competitive interest, not fear or terror, made me fall a little deeper. “Really?”
I felt its earnest agreement. “Yup. It thinks it can take you.”
He snorted, all cockiness.
***
This time, I beat him to the door.
I turned back, breath huffing, and grinned victoriously.
He climbed one step, which put us nearly eye to eye. “You’re fast. The monster is fast. But I’d have beaten you on four legs.” He kissed me, quick and hard. “Spinach time.”
It took me a minute to comprehend the offer. Smoothies. “That’s not the way you woo a girl into your house, into your bed,” I said, and we walked inside.
Connor froze halfway across the foyer, looked back at me, gaze narrowed. “I thought you were asleep when I said that.”
“I know.” I grinned and walked past him. “Vampire hearing’s pretty good, too.”
“Freaking vampires,” he said and followed me into the kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator, but closed it quickly. And then looked at me. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear tonight, but I have bad news.”
“In the refrigerator? What is it?”
“The sourdough starter... is dead.”
I blinked at him. “What?”
He put a hand over his heart and looked up at the ceiling, gazevacant and thoughtful. “It died an honorable death, and we mourn its loss.”
