Chapter 31
Chapter
Thirty-One
The hostess led them to a cozy corner table with a flickering candle and neatly folded linen napkins. Max pulled out Laney’s chair, brushing her shoulder as she sat down, and she relished the brief contact. Max moved to his own chair, settling across from her with a warm smile.
“Your server will be with you shortly,” the hostess said, placing two leather-bound menus before them. “Enjoy your evening.”
Laney glanced around, taking in the elegant dining room. Dim, ambient lighting created intimate pools of warmth at each table. The soft glow glinted off polished silverware, crystal stemware, and a small arrangement of fresh flowers in a hand-thrown ceramic vase. Plush chairs upholstered in warm earth tones complemented the lodge’s rustic yet refined atmosphere.
“The food here is amazing,” Max said, his tone low with excitement as he opened his menu. “I haven’t been here since Theo Keenan took over as head chef, but everything I’ve tried in the past has been incredible.”
“Everything looks so... sophisticated,” Laney nodded, scanning the menu. Her eyes widened at the prices. This wasn’t just dinner; it was an experience far beyond her usual takeout containers eaten over lab reports.
She battled a flicker of self-consciousness, feeling out of place despite Liv’s styling help and the beautiful dress she wore. She reminded herself that she was here to deepen trust with Max. Her heart thumped against her ribs as she studied the menu without really seeing it. Max had chosen somewhere special for tonight, which only reinforced her determination to be honest with him.
A waiter approached their table, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black apron that matched the refined lodge restaurant aesthetic. He had a professional yet warm demeanor as he greeted them.
“Good evening,” he said with a slight bow. “My name is Thomas, and I’ll be your server tonight.”
Thomas filled their water glasses from a crystal pitcher. “Tonight, we have several specials I’d like to share with you. Our executive chef has prepared an herb-crusted salmon served on a cedar-plank with a rosemary butter sauce and seasonal vegetables. We also offer a bison tenderloin with blackberry reduction, accompanied by truffle mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. Finally, we have a wild mushroom risotto with locally foraged chanterelles and morels, finished with aged parmesan.”
Laney’s mouth watered at the descriptions. Behind the waiter, other staff moved quietly among tables, delivering steaming plates that sent aromatic tendrils through the air.
“Everything sounds delicious,” Laney said, setting down her menu. “I think I’ll try the salmon special.”
“Excellent choice,” Thomas nodded. “And for you, sir?”
Max closed his menu decisively. “I’ll go for the braised lamb shank. And we’ll have the roasted beet salad with goat cheese to start. Could you suggest a wine?”
“The house cabernet would complement both dishes beautifully,” Thomas said. “I’ll bring that right out.”
Thomas returned with the wine bottle, presenting it to Max. After Max’s nod of approval, he uncorked it with practiced efficiency and poured a small taste. Max swirled the wine, inhaled its bouquet, and took a sip.
“This is fantastic,” Max said with appreciation. Thomas then filled both their glasses and set the bottle on the table.
Laney took a sip of her wine. The liquid warmed her throat, spreading a gentle heat through her limbs. Rich notes of black cherry and spice lingered on her tongue.
“This wine is lovely,” she said, setting down her glass.
Their appetizer arrived promptly. The roasted beet salad was artfully plated—vibrant ruby and golden beets arranged in thin slices, topped with creamy goat cheese medallions, candied walnuts, and delicate microgreens, all drizzled with a balsamic dressing.
“This looks too beautiful to eat,” Laney said, accepting the small plate Thomas set before her.
She took a bite and closed her eyes momentarily as the flavors bloomed across her palate—the earthy sweetness of the beets, the tangy creaminess of the cheese, the crunch of the nuts, and the acidic punch of the balsamic glaze.
“Oh, that’s incredible,” she murmured, opening her eyes to find Max watching her with a soft expression.
“Seeing you enjoy food makes me happy,” he said.
As they finished, Laney set down her fork and took another fortifying sip of wine.
“Max,” she began hesitantly. “I need to share something with you.”
Her breath caught as dark memories swirled through her mind. “When Liv helped me get ready for the festival, it was the first time I felt... visible,” Laney continued, tracing the rim of her wine glass with one finger. “But then I worried that’s the only reason you wanted me.”
“Laney...” Max began, concern etching his features, but she shook her head, needing to continue.
“Please, let me finish,” she said softly. “I need to say this.”
Thomas arrived with their entrées, his timing both interrupting and giving Laney a moment to gather her thoughts. He set down their plates with a flourish.
“Cedar-plank salmon with rosemary butter sauce for the lady,” he announced, placing before her a piece of perfectly cooked salmon atop a charred cedar plank. The fish glistened with herb-flecked butter, surrounded by roasted fingerling potatoes and bright green asparagus. “And braised lamb shank for the gentleman.” Max’s plate featured a generous portion of fall-off-the-bone lamb nestled on a bed of root vegetables, swimming in a rich, glossy sauce.
“Can I get you anything else?” Thomas asked.
“No, thank you. This looks wonderful,” Max replied.
As the waiter departed, Laney inhaled deeply, savoring the aromatic steam rising from her plate. She cut into the salmon, watching it flake perfectly under her fork. The first bite melted in her mouth—buttery, flaky, with just the right herbal notes from the rosemary. The potatoes offered a rustic contrast with their crispy exteriors and fluffy centers.
“How’s your lamb?” she asked, delaying her confession just a moment longer.
Max took a bite and closed his eyes briefly. “Incredible. It’s so tender it’s practically falling apart. Want a taste?”
He offered a small piece on his fork. The gesture was intimate, and Laney leaned forward to accept it. The lamb was indeed meltingly tender, rich with deep savory flavors and a hint of sweetness from the sauce.
“That’s amazing,” she agreed.
Laney took another sip of wine, then set down her fork, knowing she couldn’t delay any longer.
“I need to say this now before I lose my nerve,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “I’m... not a full shifter. I lied on my mate.com profile because there wasn’t an option for half-shifter.” Her heart thundered, terrified of rejection, yet desperate for honesty. The words rushed out in a stream she couldn’t stop. “I thought maybe that meant we weren’t really a 100% match.”
She watched Max’s expression carefully, alert for any signs of disgust or disappointment. He didn’t speak, allowing her space to continue.
“My mother is human,” she went on, hands fidgeting with her napkin. “I can feel my fox and communicate with her internally, but I can’t shift. Never could. I’m stuck in my human form while my fox paces inside me.” Her voice cracked slightly. “My father refused to give me the changing bite, even though I asked. My family always treated my half-shifter status like a disability or failure. Like I’m broken somehow. When I met you, my inner fox was sure you were my mate. But I guess my old insecurities got the better of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I hope you can forgive me.”
Max reached across the table, covering her trembling hand with his own. His palm was warm and steady against her skin. Laney studied his face, trying to gauge any flicker of disapproval.
“There is no way that any of that would make me think less of you,” he said, his voice firm and sincere.
“You’re sure it’s not just my makeover you liked? Because—” Laney exhaled shakily, unable to finish the thought.
“Laney, I’ve been attracted to you from the moment you stumbled into the brewery. No makeup, messy hair... it didn’t matter,” Max cut in gently, squeezing her hand. “You could have been wearing a potato sack, and I would have still recognized you as my mate.”
He hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t recoiled or looked disappointed. Instead, his eyes held a warmth that threatened to melt the ice of insecurity she’d carried for years.
“The bear in me knew you immediately,” Max said, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand. “Full shifter, half-shifter—it doesn’t matter. You’re my mate. Nothing changes that.”
A tear slipped down Laney’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. “I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”
“Never be afraid to tell me anything,” Max said. His eyes never left hers, steady and reassuring. “That’s part of what being mates means.”
They returned to their meals, though Laney found it difficult to focus on the food now, despite its excellence. Relief flooded through her, making her limbs feel light. She managed to finish the succulent salmon, savoring its delicate flavor while processing Max’s acceptance.
Thomas approached their table again, noticing they’d finished most of their entrées. “How was everything?” he asked.
“Absolutely delicious,” Laney replied, meaning it despite her emotional state.
“Would you care to see our dessert menu?” Thomas offered.
“What would you recommend?” Max asked the waiter.
“Our molten chocolate cake is quite popular,” Thomas replied. “Made with single-origin dark chocolate and served with house-made vanilla bean ice cream.”
“That sounds perfect,” Max said. “We’ll share one.”
Thomas nodded and cleared their dinner plates efficiently.
“I want to celebrate,” Max replied. “The chocolate cake seemed appropriate.”
“Celebrate what?” she asked.
“No more secrets between us,” he said simply. “That’s worth celebrating.”
Minutes later, Thomas returned with their dessert—a single molten chocolate cake on a white plate, dusted with powdered sugar and accompanied by a small scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. Steam rose delicately from the cake’s center when he set it down. Max slid one of the two spoons to Laney, smiling at her across the table. “Ladies first.”
Laney broke through the cake’s surface with her spoon, releasing a flood of warm chocolate from its center. She took a bite combining the cake, molten center, and a bit of ice cream. The contrast of warm and cold, bitter and sweet created a perfect harmony on her tongue.
“Oh my goodness,” she moaned softly. “That’s incredible.”
Max tried a bite himself, nodding in agreement. “So good.”
They shared the dessert, occasionally catching each other’s gaze. When the last bite was gone, Laney sat back in her chair, feeling more content than she had in years.