2
“Pfft.”
Tim dealt with sincere gratitude the way he dealt with all real emotions, by ignoring them as long as he could, something Zoe normally approved of. “She asked about you,”
Tim went on, sly and pleased. Despite how he claimed to only be good at sarcasm, Tim could be genuinely kind at the strangest, but best, moments. “Did you hear her say she’d noticed you around? You are so in. All you have to do is actually talk to her, and then you can spring the mate stuff on her later. Don’t wait for that ‘recognizing the mate bond’ bullshit this town loves so much. The bond is there whether you know it is or not, and the effects are going to be just as strong, even if you might feel them in a different way. Without ever knowing the name for it, I would have been drawn to him, Zoe.” For one moment, for one small moment, Tim’s voice was quiet and hurt, and Nathaniel’s silence was almost raw. Then Tim perked up again. “Talk to her, get to know each other, acknowledge the bond as soon as it’s safe, and then pounce. Hmm.” He hesitated. “Humans take a while to even feel the bond, at least according to the wizard. So how did the weres in this town used to handle it when their mate was human?”
“Claim first, ask questions later,”
Nathaniel commented, eyes still shut. “It led to… problems. There is a reason the rules are there, Little Wolf.”
“Rules always have exceptions, Sheriff Big Dick,”
Tim replied crisply. Zoe would have been shocked at his tone if she hadn’t gotten used to his casual insolence these past few months. “Informed decisions are better than instinctual pounce-and-fucks. Carl, I swear to God….”
Tim began to mutter something, probably at a cackling old man.
If Zoe’s mate had been were, that might have happened, that pounce-and-fuck, as Tim put it. They might have leapt at each other right there in the café, like something out of a story. Zoe put her hand over her mouth, trying not to lick or bite in frustrated arousal at the idea of a claim like that. But her mate was human. That meant Zoe had to take care. That’s what it had to mean. Humans didn’t understand. They had to be calmed, and wooed, and then claimed.
Zoe wanted to learn everything about her mate. She could be patient. She could listen, if not talk. She could put on clothes, and remember to eat with manners, and not bite or lick until she was given permission to.
She could, for her mate.
“Cleo,”
Zoe sighed the name.
“Cleo,”
Tim repeated brightly as though no subject change had occurred. “She works as a masseuse at the Flores—don’t growl.”
Zoe bit her lip to keep from letting the sound escape. She was a modern werewolf. She shouldn’t be upset that her mate touched others intimately for a living. But perhaps if Zoe claimed her, perhaps if Zoe bit at her neck and the soft skin of her thigh, perhaps if Zoe rubbed her scent at her arms and between her breasts, then it would be tolerable to have the scent of others near her too.
“She got into town a few weeks ago,”
Tim carried on. “She’s not seeing anyone and she’s into you. All you have to do is go to her. Bring her something she likes. Ask her to go get food with you. You can do this.”
“Shut up,”
Zoe told him again, because Little Wolf’s gentle encouragement might kill her.
Nathaniel startled her by putting a hand to the back of her neck. She hadn’t heard him move. He always had been able to move fast, and be deadly quiet when he chose to be. But his intent was calming support, and after a pause, Zoe let herself lean into it.
“Come on, Zo’.”
Nathaniel’s voice was low, and gentle. “I’ll get you home. You can shower and get ready for work, and give yourself time to adjust to the thought. She’s not going anywhere.”
“Work?”
Oh right. Zoe had a shift starting soon. But Nathaniel was right. As much as the idea of finding her mate appealed to her, Zoe was in no state to woo anyone. She wasn’t panicking anymore, but she wasn’t ready to face her again yet without risking another incident.
“Work,”
Nathaniel repeated firmly. “A nice long workday to keep you occupied while your senses calm down, and maybe give you an excuse to be out and about if you should find yourself wandering through town unconsciously tracking bits of her scent.”
“You—”
Tim drew in a sharp breath, making Zoe glance toward the phone resting on the desk. “You did that?”
Nathaniel ignored him. “And if you also find yourself staring up at their window in the middle of the night, trying not to howl, it’s okay. We’ve all been there.”
Nathaniel was just being kind, but Zoe nodded anyway, and turned for a moment to rub her cheek against his hand.
“I didn’t…. You….”
Tim was sputtering again, but softly, in almost a whine. “Big Wolf, you didn’t.”
“It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
Nathaniel reassured Zoe, although he had to hear Tim’s distress on the other end of the line. “Your mate already likes you. And everyone panics in those first moments.”
“You did not.”
Tim’s objection barely carried through the phone.
“Yes, I did.”
Nathaniel petted Zoe while finally acknowledging his mate. “And so did you. And so did Zoe. So don’t overthink it, Zo’.”
Nathaniel paused. “That’s Little Wolf’s job.”
“Hey!”
Tim raised his voice again for the protest and Nathaniel reached over to hang up the phone.
“Honeymoon already over?”
Zoe wondered, the words thick and wet, as if she’d been crying when she hadn’t. Nathaniel hadn’t meant that stuff about sitting beneath Tim’s window, right? That had to have been that weird way he had of teasing Tim until they were both wound up. It had to be.
Nathaniel clucked his tongue, and Zoe realized he was smiling again. She lifted her head in surprise.
“Still discovering things,”
he explained, as if he knew what she’d really been asking. “Still thinking he’s the strangest person I’ve ever met. Still drawn to him and fascinated by the way he thinks, and calmed by the way he presses close. More in love than I thought I would ever be. upset with myself for hurting him a moment ago. Pleased that now he knows what I felt. It’s… complicated. It’s mating, Zoe, marriage.”
“Oh,”
Zoe repeated herself.
“Oh,”
Nathaniel echoed back at her, with an expression so pleased it made her chest ache. “You can take it.”
This growl was warmer, but it still demanded her attention. “You can handle it,” he insisted, then grinned at her like Tim’s visiting imp friend had. “And you have a Dirus on your side.”
Zoe swallowed. “You know that’s actually horrifying, right?”
“Your mate won’t stand a chance,”
Nathaniel agreed. “Luckily there are ways to distract him.”
That probably meant Nathaniel’s dick, but thankfully, Nathaniel didn’t say it. “And Tim does mean well.”
“Yeah?”
Zoe didn’t mean to sound so surprised, and it got her a serious, dark-eyed look from the sheriff.
“He loves you. And he wants you to be happy.”
Nathaniel stroked her cheek again. “So do I,”
he added, fully aware she wanted to squirm at the emotion in his voice. “So will she,” Nathaniel finished, soft and deadly and exactly as evil as Tim always insisted he was. Zoe hadn’t understood before. Perhaps it took a mate’s eyes to see the real person, and know them, and love them anyway.
“Oh,”
she said for what felt like the thousandth time, and let Nathaniel calm her.
~~
Being a fancy hotel, the Flores had discreet parking in the rear so nothing blocked the entrance, although a driveway did lead almost all the way up to the doors. But only people like Silas Dirus, who had a driver to park his car for him, ever pulled up to the front. Inside the two huge doors was the great hall, built by some timber baron back in the day, who’d bought—or taken—the rest of the house from the original Spanish owner. The timber baron, mysteriously, had left town not long after that.
Zoe had always figured he’d been run off by the early werewolf occupants of the forest he’d been intent on stripping away, since he seemed like he must have been a massive asshole. His great hall looked like someplace Teddy Roosevelt would have hung out in, all human and macho and stinking of money.
Of course, even if Zoe had loved the hall, she wouldn’t have felt like stepping inside tonight. She stared at the entrance, the large doors, the ornate carvings, the lights flaring to life along the walkway. Night came early in the mountains, once the sun fell behind the trees. Lights were on in many of the hotel’s rooms. While Zoe had been waiting, several guests had walked out all dressed up, on their way to try to hook a werewolf before their vacation was over.
Zoe felt very obvious in her uniform. She was off-duty, which meant she’d removed the gun she was required to carry but had never used, although a detail like that wasn’t very noticeable to the tourists. From them, she got a leer, a respectful nod, and a tipsy salute.
Thankfully, none of them stopped to talk to her or ask why she’d parked her truck directly across from the Flores. Not her brightest move, but then she’d never intended to wait here this long.
She should have just gone inside the hotel. She should have walked up, asked Greg or whoever was working the front desk where the spa was, and then she should have marched right in there and spoken to her mate.
Except she had no reason to charge in there, and anyway, storming in to see one’s mate to win their affection did not sound like a good plan.
Neither did leaning against the door of her truck and staring forlornly at the hotel. She’d been kind of hoping a reason to go inside would occur to her now that she’d decided to formally introduce herself. Two whole days to think about it, and in the end, the desire to see Cleo again had outweighed her common sense.
Zoe sighed and lowered her head. Her skin itched. The moon wasn’t close to full, but she could feel it rising, pulling at her. If she stayed here any longer, she was going to end up on all fours, pining for her mate in the street the way that Greenleaf had rather notoriously done a few months ago.
Although, the witch had relented and let him up and into his apartment, and now the two of them were almost inseparable, so maybe there was something to be said for shifting in the street. Nathaniel had done his share of sad howling too, but that had been during the full moon, and anyway, his situation had been special. Zoe wasn’t special; she was just too awkward to go say hello.
“Oh! Hey!”
The familiar voice came from some distance away. Zoe raised her head to track the sound and felt like a deer catching the scent of a predator in the wind when she saw Cleo coming around from the side of the hotel.
Cleo had on black pants and a black top, and long, open coat or shirt of some thin material. She had a small duffel bag in one hand and the other was held up in a small wave.
Zoe waved back, then felt like a dork. “Hey.”
At least she’d remembered to speak this time, even if she had to clear her throat to do it.
As if that had been an invitation, Cleo slightly altered her course to head in Zoe’s direction. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the hotel before.”
She was all in pink where she wasn’t in the hotel’s required black, a pretty shade Zoe didn’t know the name of. Her springy curls were arranged in two bunches near the top of her head, and she wore big pink plastic hoops at her ears. Pink and black eyeliner made her eyes especially large and captivating. To complete the lovely picture she made, she was smiling.
Up close she smelled like lavender soap and sea salt and clay, like how the inside of a spa might smell. Beneath that she was flour and coffee and kitchen staples, warm sex and mate. Zoe nearly closed her eyes. As it was, her mouth fell open as she got hot all over.
“I….”
Zoe opened her eyes, and found her mate close and patiently waiting for her to speak. She recalled that she’d been asked a question, but couldn’t seem to untangle her tongue enough to explain her presence here tonight. She had no reason to wander into the Flores. Admitting to wooing a mate held no shame, but humans wanted something first, didn’t they? Something less permanent than an announcement about forever. Cleo wouldn’t want Zoe barely saying hello before she announced they were, maybe, meant to be.
Zoe knew she wasn’t the too-tall, too-strong, too-fierce girl she’d been in her teenage years among the humans. But the wolf remembered being unwanted and unclaimed. It remembered no touches, no pack. No one took in werewolf children except the desperate. Weres were uncontrollable, violent, they said. As if Zoe had ever picked fights. She’d only kicked the asses that had needed kicking.
She tried to make herself seem less imposing. She moved her shoulders in an almost casual shrug. “It’s a nice night.”
Cleo’s work shirt was a tight black tee with a scooped neckline. Somehow the small amount of exposed skin was tantalizing. The outline of her clavicle made Zoe bite down on her lower lip. Cleo’s neck was smooth and enticing next to the blushing pink of her earrings.
Zoe dragged her gaze away, but she didn’t think she was fooling anyone. Cleo was still smiling, a knowing smile, happy and hot. Making her react like that was the most satisfying moment of the past several days, and Zoe had spent a considerable amount of time in the shower dreaming about her mate and making herself come.
She straightened her shoulders and tried not to whimper.
“You’re back in uniform.”
Cleo made a small noise in her throat, not quite a hum, that slid through Zoe like liquid heat. Zoe had an urge to cross her legs the way she had when she’d first seen Charlie’s Angels as a teenager and hadn’t been able to sit still. She felt noticed in a peculiar way, appreciated without being scrutinized.
She smoothed a hand down the side of her shirt, free of Tim and Nathaniel’s love scents for once, drenched only in her own anxious longing. She tilted her head to the side and smiled without showing her teeth.
“So are you,”
she answered, aware the words didn’t exactly make sense, although her body language would have, to a were. Offering her throat, even a little, had her breathing harder.
“This?”
Cleo wasn’t a were, so Zoe tried not to take it personally that Cleo didn’t respond to the small, nonverbal attempt at flirtation. Zoe had known going into this that she’d have to use words. Humans were picky like that.
Cleo pulled at her shirt. “I like that they provide a wardrobe that’s not awful, and one that’s easy to clean. But it can get boring. Normally, I would have showered and changed into my own clothes before leaving, but I was hungry and wanted to get home, so I figured I’d bring them back tomorrow and toss ‘em in the laundry.”
She paused. “Oh right, your nose. I bet I stink like sweat and essential oils to you.”
Zoe quickly shook her head. “No, that’s good. I mean, you’re good.”
She took a breath filled with metallic salts and ripe apricots. “You smell good,”
she summed up, still breathless, and then flung out a hand in near panic. “There is… I should explain. The thing is nothing smells bad, especially not you. I mean, I’m a wolf.”
She shut herself up, hard.
Cleo tugged at one earring in what Zoe hoped wasn’t a nervous gesture. “So I smell, but I don’t smell bad?”
Cleo summed up, with a question in her voice. “Okay.”
That was a little more doubtful, but not repulsed. “What do you smell?”
“Um.”
Zoe was torn between discretion and honesty. “Everything?”
Cleo’s eyes widened. Zoe called it back. “Not everything. A lot of things. I can’t tell what you’re thinking, but some people broadcast a lot of what they’re feeling through their scent.” And body language, but that was probably something Zoe should wait to mention, like how next to fear, arousal was the strongest and easiest scent to identify. “It’s different for everyone. Some weres are more factual, others get poetic.”
Cleo tugged at her earring again. Zoe belatedly realized Cleo hadn’t been asking to learn all about weres, she’d been curious about what she smelled like to Zoe. Zoe learned forward about an inch and deliberately inhaled. She let her eyes fall closed to filter out everything that wasn’t Cleo . “The spa. Herbs and oils. Sweet almond. Cucumber and water. Something on your hands, like soap but more… gentle? Then… perspiration: clean, salty, hint of coffee. Skin, flushed with health, natural as pollen. Your scent is orange, yellow, and pink. Nasturtium, the flowers. Not on you, but you remind me of them. They’re…”
Zoe cut herself off before she could say edible out loud and opened her eyes.
Cleo paused to lick her lower lip. “I guess I don’t need to ask if I smell bad, then.”
Her heart beat hard for a few moments when she met Zoe’s gaze.
Zoe slowly shook her head. “You smell very good.”
Her voice was husky.
Cleo’s stare was difficult to read, although Zoe couldn’t look away. She thought, maybe, Cleo was pleased, but embarrassed.
After a while she gave a small laugh. “There’s a whole industry built around perfumes, and then you say something so….”
Cleo trailed off and regarded Zoe curiously. “Tim says scent is a large part of how you all communicate. He also said sometimes I’ll have to prompt weres to speak. I just wasn’t expecting….”
Again, she left her thought unfinished. “It feels rude though, constantly asking people to explain what they mean. But if it isn’t, I should do it more.”
Zoe wrinkled her nose, more at her own failures than anything Cleo had said. “I know I don’t talk very much by human standards?”
It came out as a question.
“Oh no, it’s fine.”
Zoe stepped closer, as if she needed Zoe to know she didn’t mind how Zoe smelled her. God, Zoe hoped that was true. “It’s going to take some getting used to, truth be told. Let me know if I ever bother you.”
“As if you could,”
Zoe immediately replied, then winced. That was too eager. She wiped her palms down her shirt and then crossed her arms. Except that was not a good attitude to take with her potential mate, so she had to uncross them. “Um.”
She cast about for a safer topic. “Do you normally leave work this way?”
“There is a back entrance for the employees.”
Zoe waved toward the hotel without taking her eyes from Zoe. “You look like you’re staking out the place. Are you?”
“Um.”
Oh shit, Zoe was bad at this. “Kind of?”
Sitting and mooning over a mate was acceptable, according to Nathaniel. And Zoe hadn’t been spying on her or anything weird. But on the other hand, Tim had not been pleased to learn he’d made Nathaniel so sad and dejected he’d resorted to staking out Tim’s boarding house to be nearer to him.
She scratched the back of her neck. She still had no answer. “Uh.”
“Are you okay?”
Cleo, to Zoe’s total confusion, came even closer. She seemed concerned. “Is this a body language thing? Tim warned me about those too.”
Little Wolf had told her almost everything. Zoe didn’t know whether to growl at him for it or sigh in relief. At least the presence of her mate was as calming as it was exciting. A few deep breaths and Zoe felt more forgiving. She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I wasn’t expecting a direct question.”
Cleo grinned unexpectedly. “Well, when I moved here, they told me this town was full of werewolves sniffing the truth. It sounded great, to be honest. An entire town of people uninterested in deception of any kind. You guys don’t even respect deodorant. That’s commitment.”
She ended with a small shrug. “I kind of expected to see a pamphlet about it.”
“Ah.”
Zoe lowered her head to mumble. “Yeah. Little Wolf is working on that. He said we weren’t clear to humans. He… kind of took over the city council. He does that. Takes over things. But he’s right, about some things anyway. We don’t lie, and we expect the same in return, if you can. It’s, um, we aren’t offended by lies as much as… annoyed? That someone would try with so many of us around.”
The concept was difficult to explain without reminding humans that they were surrounded by creatures who could hear their every heartbeat. Living in Wolf’s Paw involved a delicate balance of being exactly the wolf one was born to be without regard to the rest of the human-run world, and yet carefully not drawing too much attention from those humans. “Wolves don’t really lie—not that we can’t, it’s that we tend to be bad at it, so we don’t bother.” Having said that much, Zoe ventured a little more. “I always thought that would make it easier if humans knew that. But tourists can still be nervous about things.”
“You mean sex,”
Cleo agreed warmly, with a nod. “This town’s whole ‘sex etiquette’ thing. That does help, actually. Wolves might not speak much, but they don’t lie.”
If she wanted an intelligent response, Zoe didn’t have one. Her brain had momentarily frozen at hearing her mate talk about sex.
“The uh, sex etiquette thing?”
she got out at last, in a higher voice than usual.
The expression that crossed Cleo’s face was wicked. Her heart was faster again too, as if she knew what she’d done to Zoe. Zoe’s eyes had probably glazed over and her skin had likely flushed red.
“The sex thing,”
Cleo repeated, with an alluring shiver. “I know it’s why the town is famous, and a lot of people come here for that, but have you seen yourselves? It’s a bit intimidating to know we have to ask you guys out.”
“Only the first time,”
Zoe answered blankly, then shook away some of her mental fog. “But you know the traditions aren’t only about… that, right?”
Self-preservation meant Zoe stopped herself from saying sex in close proximity to an interested Cleo. Zoe’s instincts were already urging her to bare her throat again and whimper.
“Sex?”
Cleo rocked the ground beneath Zoe’s feet with another delicate, flirtatious wriggle, this one accompanied by a cute wrinkling of her nose. “I didn’t expect you to be so shy about it, considering the town’s reputation. But it’s kind of sweet to see you looking less fierce because I said one tiny word.”
She inclined her head toward Zoe and lowered her voice. “Should I say it again?”
“So you and Tim seem friendly!”
Zoe desperately moved away from the subject of sex before she fell back against the truck and whined for whatever kisses her mate might give her.
“So odd.”
Cleo let out a noisy sigh. “You aren’t at all what I thought you’d be.”
Zoe wondered if she looked as hurt as that as she was, because Cleo shook her head and went on. “You, well, cops in general are people I avoid. And you always seemed very serious when I saw you around town. But you’re a marshmallow, aren’t you?”
“I am not!”
Zoe nearly howled indignantly. She straightened from her slouch against the truck. “Nathaniel Neri relies on me and calls me pack mate. Deputy. Friend.”
She pushed out a breath and lifted her chin to make it clear she would stand her ground.
From Zoe’s full height, Cleo seemed even tinier. But though Cleo’s heart was pounding and she had to tilt her head up to stare at Zoe, she didn’t take a step back.
Zoe could have scared her. The realization had Zoe ducking her head down, although the wolf in her was thrumming with pride to note her mate hadn’t run away.
She peeked over. “You’re not afraid?”
Every human in her high school had been happy to taunt Zoe until the moment she’d let her eyes flash, delighted to call her names when they were in groups, but they had all tried to run away the moment they were alone with her. “That’s why Wolf’s Paw has the rules. It’s why so many wolves live here. But you aren’t scared?”
Her voice went soft. “Really?”
“I’m small. Pretty much anyone could take me in a fight. I can’t be afraid of everyone.”
Cleo spoke slowly, with her gaze intent on Zoe. “Besides, Tim said baring the throat was important, and you’ve been baring yours to me since I came over here.”
Zoe stopped moving. Oh, her mate was smart, so smart, and Tim hadn’t warned her. “Yes,”
she admitted, and clenched her jaw. Apparently, Zoe was going to act as petulant as Little Wolf, and not even her mate’s presence could stop her. “So?”
Cleo lifted both eyebrows, and then cracked a wide, wide smile.
Zoe raised her head again. It was humiliating enough that her attempts at flirting had been noticed and it hadn’t mattered. Of course, something else was probably wrong as well. Zoe had probably misbuttoned her uniform, or looked as awkward around someone so delicate and fairy-like as she always did. Cleo continued to stare, so Zoe wiped at her mouth and cheeks. She’d eaten dinner not too long ago and she was a famously messy eater. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“Just those cute freckles,”
Cleo answered without hesitation. “You have some all over the rest of you too. I noticed that the other day. It was another nice surprise after getting to see you close up with your shirt off. Very nice.”
Zoe opened her mouth, then closed it. She thought she might burst into flames.
Cleo stepped closer, surrounding Zoe with her healing/warmth/allure scent and flower softness. “I figure, since you’ve been letting me know it’s okay if I ask, that I should go for it.”
“Go for it?”
Zoe repeated blankly and bumped into the truck. Somehow, even with the town’s rules, she’d thought more wooing would be required before this might happen.
She stayed flustered the longer Cleo considered her. “Zoe,”
Cleo pronounced her name carefully, “this is me expressing interest first.”
She paused there. “That is how it’s done here? I’m not being too formal or anything? I don’t want to get my sex etiquette confused.”
Zoe’s heart kicked against her ribs. For one moment she’d been soaring. Hitting the ground hurt. She swallowed and looked away. “‘Sex etiquette,’”
she echoed quietly.
“Oh.”
The fall of Cleo’s shoulders made Zoe turn to her again. “You aren’t answering. Did I do it wrong? Or maybe you don’t like humans? Or girls? Or…?”
“I like girls,”
Zoe interrupted. She was an idiot, but she couldn’t allow her mate to go on without at least knowing Zoe desired her. “I like you,”
she added, although even her feelings for Tiff hadn’t matched the up-and-down storm of emotions from merely speaking to her potential mate. “I like you a lot. But you didn’t say.” She had to clench her hands into fists to keep going. “I’ll say yes. But you didn’t tell me what you were asking for. Sex, or… more.”
She didn’t quite plead for Cleo to ask for more, but her softly hopeful tone made her feel as small and delicate as the human in front of her.
Cleo’s smile returned, big and bright. Zoe stood up to bask in it like it was moonlight.
“A date?”
Cleo offered. “Dinner?”
“Yes.”
Zoe had the word out before Cleo’s second question was finished.
“Great!”
Cleo was so happy. Zoe would do anything to keep her that way. Which, at least for the moment, involved standing there while Cleo dug a cellphone from her bag. “Did I ever introduce myself to you?”
She stopped. “Please don’t think I have no skills. I’m not usually like this.”
Zoe nearly asked if Cleo was magic, but held it back. Humans touched by magic were supposed to be able to feel the mating bond faster, but Zoe remembered a lot of humans could be touchy about that subject. Anyway, nothing about Cleo made her nose itch. “Are you a healer?”
she wondered instead, because many of the human “natural”
healers used magic in their practices, even if some called it by other names. “I don’t need an introduction,” she changed the subject quickly. “Tim told me your name.”
“Well, he didn’t tell me yours. What’s your last name?”
Cleo typed something into her phone, then waited.
“Browne,”
Zoe filled in obediently. “With an ‘e’ on the end.”
“Deputy Zoe Browne.”
Cleo flashed a mischievous smile. “Can I get your number?”
“I don’t… own a cell phone.”
Like that, Zoe was reminded that she was the sort of person who had stuck two bobby pins in her hair that morning to keep it out of her face and hadn’t checked a mirror since.
But again, Cleo didn’t seem to mind how awkward, or how non-human, Zoe was. She did stop briefly, as if anyone not owning a phone had thrown her. But Zoe could actually see her reasoning why a werewolf might not require one.
“Whenever you want, I’ll be free.”
Zoe was desperate and eager and her mate already knew it. Zoe had come out here to see her and bared her throat. Zoe had told her she smelled like flowers . She’d already said yes. She saw no point in trying to play it cool. Her mate ought to know that.
Cleo parted her lips, although for a second no sound emerged. “Okay. Wolves are honest. I don’t think I fully grasped the concept until now.”
Zoe thought about repeating that she liked Cleo. But it was simpler to lift her chin. With the top two buttons of her uniform undone, she wasn’t showing much skin beyond the top of her throat, but she was showing enough.