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She froze in her tracks, brows furrowing, and I knew I’d made a mistake. But what had I said?
“You really think I’m a snob?” she asked and fuck, she looked hurt.
“No! I think you’re smart and cultured. You’re a lawyer. You live in Manhattan, Martina. Shit, I don’t know. I guess I was worried about making the right impression on you because I never left Maccon City. I never went to college. Just started my business right after high school. Anyway, I guess I assumed you spent your free time going to museums and shit,” I growled, suddenly uncomfortable.
“Wow. So, you think I’m a snob? You think I couldn’t enjoy a date with a man unless he takes me someplace flashy and spends a lot of money?”
“What? No, I didn’t say that?—”
Fuck. This conversation was going way off course. I’d obviously upset her. She let go of my hand, and I felt pained by the absence of her touch. I unlocked the door and held it open for her, offering my hand, but she didn’t take it. She was short though, petite, and perfect in my not so humble opinion, and it snowed some during the movie. With her long, tight skirt on, Martina couldn’t quite get into the damn seat.
She was cold. I knew it. I could see her shivering again. After watching her fumble a second time, I snapped. Hands on her hips, I lifted her up and closed the door, ignoring her shocked gasp. My hands burned where I touched her, and my animal was snarling at me for letting her go so soon. At the rate this was going, I would need to shift in the shed again tonight.
Fucking hell.
Timothy had warned me not to fuck this up, and my brother was right. But he was wrong, too. He’d told me to act a certain way, to step up my game, but the best time of the entire night was when I was just myself with her.
After my fuck up, I felt about two inches tall. Martina didn’t care about a lot of the things I’d expected. But she cared what I thought, and that was a sign. I mattered to her. That was all the encouragement I needed to try to fix this.
“Martina,” I began, starting the car and turning the heat on for her. “I did not mean to say that before.”
“Why? I’m happy to know what you really think of me, Mitchell,” she replied, anger and hurt staining her words.
“Shit. No, I didn’t mean that. I don’t think anything bad about you, woman, I just want you to—look, I don’t wanna fuck this up. I am doing a bang-up job of it, though. But hurting you or insulting you was never my intention,” I growled, biting back the pain of my Wolf tearing me up on the inside.
“I like you, Martina Harbor. I really like you. I want to know more about you. I’m sorry if I acted like a judgmental ass. I didn’t mean it. I swear.”
“I guess I am being a jerk now, huh? No, it’s okay. Don’t apologize,” she said, and heaved a sigh. “This was a mistake. Just, would you mind taking me home?”
“Wait. Please, give me another chance. Don’t, don’t leave like this,” I said, turning towards her.
“It’s not your fault. I have a chip on my shoulder, especially about your Pack.”
“My Pack? But you’re a Wolf and this is the Macconwood Pack’s home territory. I have wondered and I guess now I am asking, why isn’t it your Pack, too?”
“It’s just not,” she said, and her words felt heavy. “I grew up in Maccon City, but I lived under a cloud. The Macconwood Pack left my family alone, but I was never one of them. Never accepted.”
“Because you grew up in Harbor House?” I asked, confused.
She shook her head, and tears swam in her deep violet eyes. It was breaking my heart to see the hurt there. I unbuckled her seat belt and tugged her towards me, and she allowed it.
Thank God.
I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting her anymore. It was making my beast feel all kinds of protective. All I wanted was to wipe the hurt away. To wrap her up in a bubble of good feelings and sweetness. To kiss away the pain and make it all better.
Good idea.
“Hey,” I said, holding her face with one hand and wrapping my arm around her waist. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I never meant to upset you. I just wanted to take you out. Be with you.”
“Why did you ask me out?” she asked, canting her head in a way that reminded me she was a Wolf, too.
But she didn’t smell like a regular Wolf. I couldn’t find any hint of fur on her at the moment Just the smoky, spicy scent of cinnamon and apple pie, and dammit, I wanted her with a hunger I’d never known. I leaned towards her, brushing her nose with mine, my chest rumbled with the power of my beast.
“I want to kiss you, Martina,” I whispered, so close to her lips, but needing her consent before I took this thing a step further.
I was playing with fire, and I knew it. I just didn’t care. Barely able to keep the leash on the furious desire I felt for her, I growled, my gaze intent on hers. Her soft curves pressed against me, and I hated the clothes between us. I needed to kiss her. Hell, I might die without it. But I waited.
“So,” she whispered, her breath mingling with mine. “What are you waiting for?”
