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It’s like looking at two giants…but I realize that Javi is bigger. I watch as the two of them square off, all broad shoulders and hard muscle, and I realize that Javi could challenge Reyes if he wanted.
But that’s not what he wants.
All he wants isme.
“It’s an honor, Father Garza,” Javi says, shaking Reyes’ hand. “Thank you for your generosity.”
“Please, Javi—it’s Reyes,” Reyes smiles. He looks over at me. “I hope to see you both for dinner?”
I nod. “We’ll be here.”
“Well, then…enjoy the day,” he says. “Rest. Recuperate. And most of all, enjoy one another.”
Tilda takes his arm as he walks away, and Javi stands in stunned silence. I look up at him and grin, hooking my hand through the crook of his elbow.
“I think you’re going to like it here,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says. “I think I am.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
?
PEACHES
Spring is in full bloom and I’m in love.
We’ve spent three blissful days in bed together—three days that couldn’t be more different than the first few weeks we had. I wake up to Javi’s hard body wrapped around mine, usually with his knot already swollen between my legs, his hands on my breasts and his lips on my throat. We sleep in, go to breakfast late, walk in the fields, and enjoy dinner with the pack. I introduce him to everyone. He…tolerates the company.
I have to be careful to give him his space. I get the feeling he would do anything for me, and that includes making himself uncomfortable for the sake of indulging my sociability.
We’ll figure it out with time.
We nap through the afternoon on the first day of my heat, my body sticky with sweat and cozy in the sheets. I find myself weirdly excited for my heat when I used to dread it, knowing I have my mate to keep me sated through these long nights. I wonder if it will be different with a baby already inside me, but I know it’s coming regardless. Even as I sleep, I can feel the familiar tug of desire in my heart, the way my body begs to be fucked and filled.
I don’t know how he gets up and out of bed without me catching him, but I’m alone when I wake. I look at the clock—five p.m., close to sunset. This is the point when we should be locking ourselves in our rooms, ready to spend the night in the the clutches of passion, and my mate is gone.
But there’s a flower on the door.
I frown and cock my head.
Purple mountain laurel.
I get out of bed and pad toward it, reaching out my hand. The door comes open and I jump back, half-expecting Javi to be around the corner.
But there’s no one there…just his lingering scent.
I go back to bed to pull on my sweater and I step across the threshold, then walk down the corridor. Mountain laurel flowers dot the hallway, scattered petals leading me up and out toward an exit near the other side of the den.
This isn’t where everyone else will be gathering—this isn’t where the bonfire is, the food, the laughter. I can hear my friends on the other side of the den, all preparing for a night of pleasure. I almost think I should turn back, convinced this is a trap…and then I see him.
Javi waiting in the field, his back turned.
He’s shirtless, his muscles gleaming in the light of the setting sun, and there’s a mountain laurel tree on the other side of him. I stand still for a second to admire him, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he realizes I’m watching.
He turns.
I walk toward him, padding through the soft grass. Javi watches me come closer with a smile, though his brow furrows when I get close enough to touch him, my hand on his arm.
