Chapter Eight
Wilder
Lewis did text me, telling me he felt better the next day. He also wanted me to come to his house for dinner.
I’d been there before so it wasn’t strange, but I was used to dates in the city. Restaurants. Movies. Things like that.
We texted for a few days in between the last time I’d seen him and the date. Mostly at night. We both worked hard and owned our own businesses which was, at times, a twenty-four-hour-a-day job in itself.
I closed up shop, walked upstairs to shower and change, and soon was on my way to the farm. The sun lowering in the sky made for such a lovely drive that I almost wished it was longer—and that Lewis was with me.
I parked my car behind his to find him sitting on the rocking chair on the porch. He looked so mad all the time. Lips pursed. Puckered brow. That vein on the side of his head visible.
Was I late?
No. The clock on the dash showed right on time.
Turning to look at me, he stood up. Maybe his thoughts had taken him somewhere troubling. “Wilder,” he breathed. The way he said my name did things to me.
“Hi,” I said, walking up the stairs. “I brought you a loaf of bread from the bakery.”
Lewis took it from me. “You didn’t have to bring anything. I made dinner.”
“I know, but my mom taught me never to go to anyone’s house empty-handed. A hard habit to break.”
“The sun is setting and I thought we could enjoy a dinner picnic. Out by the orange trees. Unless you would rather—”
I put my hand on his forearm. “A picnic sounds fantastic.”
He stared at the place of contact then licked his lips. Goddess, I wanted to taste those lips so badly. “Then let’s go.”
He picked up a large picnic basket covered with a yellow and white gingham cloth. I followed him through the fields and into an orchard, stone fruit beginning to ripen. “These are all peach trees?” I asked.
“No.” He put down the basket and strolled around, pointing to each one.
“Peach, plum, apricot, nectarine…” The list went on until he was back at the beginning.
“Makes for excellent honey when they are blooming. And there’s so much.
Got a stack of orders from the East Coast to be shipped in the fall. ”
“That’s impressive.”
He shrugged it off while we spread out the blanket and sat down. The sunset was almost over when lights in the surrounding trees came to life. A few were in the shape of bees. It made for a very romantic backdrop.
“You mentioned your mother. Tell me about her?”
While I told him about my mom, Lewis pulled out plate after plate of amazing-looking dishes.
Simple, but I could tell he took care in preparing them.
Slices of ham. Deviled eggs. Potato salad.
A small board of cheeses and fruits. Honey buttermilk pie.
The bread I brought fit in perfectly, and he showed off different kinds of honey, each one with its own custom honey dipper.
I’d gone on and on about how I was brought up while we ate.
Gosh, I was talking too much.
“You were raised here? On this land?”
The alpha nodded. His scent changed, and I could feel the pride rise from him. The bond between his bear and my wolf already taking shape. “My parents were farmers.”
“They bought the land?”
He nodded. “Before Oliver Creek was even on the map. It was cleared land when they purchased it. It cost them their life savings, but they were both hard workers.”
“May I ask what happened to them?”
Lewis looked off into the distance. I knew that look well.
I had the same one when asked about my mother.
“They passed about five years ago. They were older when they had me and so when I graduated high school, they were way up there even for shifters. My alpha father died of an aneurism and my omega died less than twenty-four hours later.”
“They must’ve been deeply in love.”
He nodded. “They were. My father would light up when my dad came into the room.”
“People dream of a love like that. It doesn’t happen for many. They must have been fated.”
A few minutes passed with no words. We were both sitting in the past.
“Are you done eating?” I sat up straighter, snapped out of what was.
“I am.”
“Would you like to shift and run with me, alpha?”