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Moriah
The first time she’dmet Sorben for drinks after he’d tracked down her number, Moriah remembered crossing the room with a flutter of nerves in her belly, resting on a large dollop of confusion. She still wasn’t sure how she got there, why she’d said yes, and had been crafting her exit excuse as she smiled across the table. It wasn’t until maybe their third date that she had begun to see the appeal, the slightly softer center beneath his hard-scaled outer shell.
The werewolf approaching her now possessed no such hardness. He had an unselfconscious, confident air, loping along on long legs. Dark eyes and wide mouth, a square jaw and sharp cheekbones . . . He was even more handsome in person than his photograph had led her to believe. Moriah straightened in her chair, tugging the edge of her dress as she took him in from across the dining room.
Thick, dark hair, just like his photo, slightly overlong and curling against the collar of his shirt, which stretched across his broad shoulders. Decent height and a lean, muscular build, he certainly fit the description of tall, dark and handsome.Which is all good, but that’s not why you picked him,she reminded herself. He slowed as his eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on her, his smile split.That’s the reason. Right there. When he raised a hand in greeting across the cafe, his eyes crinkling with the force of his smile, a breathless giddiness overtook her nerves, and Moriah beamed, squeezing her thighs together.He’s fucking gorgeous. If this were a blind date, you’d be thrilled.
“Moriah? I’m Lowell. It’s great to meet you!”
The next moment seemed to be a carefully choreographed ballet of awkwardness as she stood to greet him. She stuck her hand out as he placed his own over his chest, giving her a small half-bow, freezing as her hand extended. Moriah felt outside of her body, watching in slow motion as his hand left the center of his chest, stretching to meet hers . . . just as she withdrew the gesture, slapping her hand over her breast, mirroring his greeting. She watched as his hand hung in the empty air, meeting nothing, and felt fire burn up her cheeks.
You should run. Maybe there’s a hole outside you can fall into. Time seemed to grind to a halt, suspended in space alongside his abandoned hand, the ticking of an invisible clock rattling her insides until the mortifying moment was broken by his snort of laughter, long arms engulfing her in a hug before she could embarrass herself any further. He was warm,sowarm, and her shoulders shook in laughter as she pressed her cheek to his broad chest, breathing him in, pushing away the nausea-inducing thoughts of the last five days.
She’d spent the better part of the week braiding herself into knots of anxiety, second-guessing all of her plans. She had wanted to travel before she’d met Sorben, had aspirations to see the world and live abroad, wanted to start her own interiors business and be her own boss, wanted to experience all that life could possibly offer . . . and it had all been eclipsed by her desire to have a child. Dreams of a cozy little flat she’d envisioned in some picturesque European town where she would run her design business had been traded for daydreams of a sweet-smelling bundle pressed to her breast, a rocking chair in a mint green-painted nursery in place of the well-appointed fantasy flat.
Maybe the divorce was her chance to do everything she’d put on hold, she told herself, to see the world beyond the town she was from and the town she now called home. The end of her marriage could mean the beginning of her new life.Maybe you’re making a terrible mistake.
All of her anxieties fell away as she inhaled deeply, pressing herself to this stranger’s warmth. He smelled like crisp, fresh spearmint — and as she rose slightly on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, surreptitiously sniffing his neck as she lowered — there was something spicy and wild, a hint of the beast beneath, she thought, flushing once more.Lowell. The only new life she wanted was the tiny one she would create with this unfamiliar, fresh-smelling man, and the nearness of her dreams made tears prick at her eyes unexpectedly.This is it; this is what you wanted.
“I’m sorry,” he laughed once they parted, his dark chocolate eyes sparkling down at her. “I’ve spent so long training myselfoutof a western handshake. I’m terrible at interviews and I’ve been a nervous wreck all morning, so I was bound to screw something up.”
“You don’t need to be nervous, I promise I don’t bite! And I’m not good at interviews either,” she agreed. “I’m not good at talking about myself. I’m good atdoing. Just let me do my thing and rate me on that. Portfolio presentation in school was always the worst. I’ve done the work, and you have eyes in your head. Why do I have to stand in front of a room and squirm and talk about each piece?”
Lowell was laughing, his head tipped back slightly.
“Exactly! The worst was when they would ask about the motivation for each piece. My motivation was to pass the class, sir. My motivation for this one was also to pass the class. And finally, my motivation for this last piece was, you may have already guessed, to pass this class. Just mark that you hate it and let me go home to die in peace.”
The small goblin waiting on tables sighed heavily as she eyed the table where they sat, laughing raucously. It was already more laughter than she and Sorben had shared in their first several dates, an auspicious sign, she thought.
“You’re an artist then?”
She shrugged self-deprecatingly at his question.
“I mean . . . sort of? Interior design.”
“So . . . yes,” he grinned back hugely. “I sat next to design students in the same color theory and art history classes. I don’t remember any of them only ‘sort of’ graduating . . .I, on the other hand, almost “sort of graduated”. We had this ‘first last night’ tradition at my school, and we partied a little too thoroughly the night before graduation, and I almost slept through the ceremony.”
“We had the same party! If I wasn’t already engaged, I probably would have missed my ceremony as well. You’re a photographer, right? And you don’t do handshakes. So I’m assuming that means you’re a glamorous globetrotter? Wait, I-I’m getting ahead of myself.”
The goblin had arrived, clearing her throat impatiently, and Moriah thought to herself that it was no mystery why this cafe and coffee shop beside it were always empty.
“Um, can I just have the yogurt and fruit plate with a strawberry lemonade?”
Across the table, Lowell was flipping through the pages as if it were the first time he’d ever seen a menu, and she had to bite down her laughter at his perplexed look.I think he had it upside down there for a minute!
“There are too many options, I’ll just have the same.”
She swallowed a giggle as the goblin rolled her eyes, leaving them alone once more. Moriah took a deep breath, steadying the out-of-control butterflies thrumming in her chest.He’s so cute. He looks so young, he has such a baby face! Maybe he thinks you’re too old.She shook away the thought. He was only two years younger than her, regardless of his appearance. She’d never been self-conscious that way, and she wasn’t about to start now.
“Thank you,” she breathed out, gripping the table for support. “Thank you for meeting me today, and-and thank you for doing this. You have no idea how much I appreciate your participation in this program. As soon as I saw your picture, I felt really good about you, you and and this, and I’m so glad you’re here. So thank you.”
“Thank you for picking me,” he said earnestly. “I was so excited when the clinic called me. I feel like I won the lottery!”
She laughed at his enthusiasm, and he grinned hugely.
“Seriously, I never get picked for anything; I never win anything. Especially being back home right now, I’m sort of stuck in place. Finding out about the clinic was happenstance, but I was thrilled when they said you had picked me. I’m so glad to be able to help you.”
She thought she was going to burst with happiness.
