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“Can I ask you—where did you get your furniture? These pieces are gorgeous, but I’ve never seen anything like them before.” I reached out to run a hand over one of the bedposts.
“These were made from a few immature oaks that got swept away by a landslide after a particularly bad storm. It was about a decade ago. Lost the whole grove. But they were in a bad place anyway. It was only a matter of time.”
“They’re from your forest?”
“Yes. I try not to waste anything. And I wanted this place to feel more like home.”
“So…you made it yourself?” I looked around at the furniture in awe.
“Yeah.” He looked around, as if truly seeing his room for the first time. “There’s not much to do out in the forest, so a lot of us pick up hobbies to stay entertained. Drinking, dancing, making music, and fornicating gets boring after a few decades.”
“You’re very talented.” Photographer extraordinaire and a master carpenter.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not that good at it. Really. There are others who are much, much better. Hungry for breakfast?”
“Sounds great.”
“Bacon and eggs, and breakfast potatoes?”
I grinned. What a wonderful way to wake up.
I’d finally agreed to spend the weekend with him in the heat of passion. It had been either our third or fourth go around, and Shane had caged my body, his cock teasing at my entrance. He’d withheld what I wanted until I’d said I would.
Honestly, he really hadn’t needed to do that. I wanted to stay anyway. The library had a different set of weekend staff, so I was free until Monday morning. I didn’t think there was a better way to spend my days off.
I only asked that we head back to my place first so I could pick up some more clothes. I wasn’t sure I wanted to wear my date night outfit all weekend. I planned on grabbing my e-reader while I was there too, just in case. I didn’t expect Shane to entertain me the whole time I was here, though I had a feeling he would if he could.
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Over easy, please,” I said as I made my way to his bathroom.
By the time I was done washing my face and had brushed my teeth with his spare toothbrush, the smell of cooking bacon was filling the air. I stepped out of the bedroom to see Shane in a manly apron, the kind that looked more suited for carpentry than cooking.
Damn, he was sexy!
I was so glad I decided to stay.
Chapter 14
Shane
I checked my phone for the fifth time in the last half hour. It felt like I’d been sitting in the cake shop forever waiting. It was Friday again, and Ivy got off work at 4 PM today. The plan was for me to pick her up right after work so we could get a jump start on heading out of town. Although rush hour in Darlington seemed to keep starting earlier and earlier, and we’d probably still spend some time stuck in traffic.
I couldn’t wait to see Ivy again, even though she’d stayed with me all last weekend and we’d had a mid-week date on Wednesday. I was dying to show her my forest. If I wasn’t already 100% sure she was my mate, I would know the moment I saw her in my woods. But I wasn’t really worried they would tell me anything different. I knew in my heart that she was the one.
I picked up my coffee again, only to realize it was empty. They only had a couple of seats, and I’d been hogging this one for a while, so I went to the counter to grab a couple of cupcakes for us to share on the drive out of the city. Then, with key lime cupcakes—they didn’t have lemon today—and a raspberry black tea for Ivy in hand, I headed across the street to the library.
I’d just stepped into the main foyer when I heard Ivy’s melodious voice. “I’m sorry, sir, you can’t bring any food or drinks into the library.”
I turned to see her grinning at me from behind the front desk, trying to keep a smile from spreading across her artificially stern-looking face. She was wearing glasses today instead of contacts, and she’d pushed them up onto her head while on the computer.
As she stood, she pushed the glasses back down onto her nose. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate that,” she said, eyeing the cup, “and it’d better be raspberry black tea.”
I grinned and handed her the takeout cup over the counter. She took it from me, flipped open the lid, took a tiny sip, and moaned.
“Thank you. I needed that.” She looked over at the clock on the wall. “I’m just waiting for my”—she paused to wave at someone behind me—“oh! There she is now.”
She was a young woman with dark hair in a ponytail and a pert, upturned nose. The woman looked at me appraisingly. “A satyr, here in the city?” She dialed up the charm to eleven. “And in a library, of all places? How can I help you?”
