Chapter 25
Nine days had passed since we drunkenly shared our feelings.
We fell asleep in each other's arms that night. The next morning, we both knew we shared too much—or I thought I did. I was confused about my feelings and about what I wanted. I was trying to focus on the bigger picture. Here in this cabin was one thing, but what about when we went home? What were we going to do? How would this work? He was a wolf, and I wasn’t.
I was the mother of Izayuh, and Daxyn was his cousin, the father of Izayuh.
All of it felt so complicated and so confusing.
The smell of something fried and sweet caught my attention.
Beignets. Oh, how I loved them the last time he made them.
Before I even swung my legs to the side of the bed, the door opened.
Quinn stood there, completely dressed in black pants and a button-up flannel.
His hair had been cut, and his facial hair was trimmed up.
In one hand, he had a plate of pillowy donuts covered in powdered sugar, and in the other, a bouquet of red and yellow roses.
“When did? How did you?” I said, my brows furrowed at him.
“Happy Valentine's Day, my little doe,” he said, flashing those sexy dimples at me.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Quinn… but I didn’t get you anything,” I said.
“You being here alive and healthy and okay is the best gift I could get,” he said.
He walked to me and placed the vase holding the flowers onto the nightstand before handing me the plate of beignets.
He grabbed one off the plate and brought it to my mouth.
I took a bite, and then he brought it to his mouth and took a bite.
We had kissed a couple more times since that first one, but both of us stopped before it went any further.
Being on my period was a good deterrent for me.
Yesterday was the first day I didn’t have any spotting.
It had lasted longer than it normally did, but Lina assured me that was normal.
“I have a full day planned for us,” he said.
“Oh?” I asked.
“We’re gonna go into New Orleans… watch a movie, spend the evening there,” he said.
“And Lucy?”
“Titi has offered to babysit her,” he said.
“Well, it’s easy now, she doesn’t need bottles anymore,” I said.
We guessed she was about a month and a half, and she started not wanting any more bottles.
We still gave her milk in a dish, as well as soft food for her, but she’d become slightly more independent.
Quinn and I had decided that we would take up his uncle's offer to put her in a sanctuary, given that she was a wild animal.
I cried as we decided, and Quinn held me.
We decided we would keep her until the night before we left.
It broke my heart to even think about leaving her.
“I’m ready, whenever you get ready. There is a dress in the bathroom, if you want it,” he said.
“You… got me a dress?” I asked, tilting my head at him.
“I did, but don’t feel obligated to wear it,” he said.
I got off the bed and headed into the bathroom. On the back of the door hung a long black dress. It was a thin, strapped dress that had sequins all over it. One slit ran up the right side. It was gorgeous.
I quickly took a shower, shaving everything.
I didn’t know how this night was going to go, but in case it went that way, I wanted to be prepared.
I dried off and put the dress on. I felt like I should have makeup on with how gorgeous it was, but I had none of that here.
I barely had anything to do something with my hair, aside from a brush and a ponytail.
I went with a single French braid down the center.
I pulled on the sides to give it some volume.
I looked down at my feet. Shit. I didn’t have shoes for this dress.
I walked out of the bathroom. Quinn stood next to the fireplace.
He was in different clothing. My eyes trailed from the top to the bottom.
He was wearing a black polo and black dress pants.
A set of heeled sandals dangled off his fingers.
I was relieved for two reasons—they weren’t stilettos, and I didn’t have to wear tennis shoes.
“Take a seat, Cinderella,” he said.
“Yes… Daddy,” I said, before bursting out into laughter.
I sat down, and he leaned in close to me. “I’ll be your daddy, if you keep that up,” he whispered. Goosebumps rose all over my body, and even my nipples tingled. He let out a laugh. “Hot and bothered.”
He leaned back, grabbing one of my legs, running his hand down it to my ankle.
He slipped my foot into the sandal and clasped it on.
Then repeated it with my other foot. Just the way he slid his hand down my leg turned me on.
I was so royally fucked. I’d already decided I wanted him that way, but I was trying to show restraint.
I was trying to take my time. Trying to do things differently.
He stood up and pulled me to a stand, his hand moving to my hip and pulling me closer to him. I stared into his amber eyes. He reached up with his other hand, cupping my cheek. He leaned forward and kissed me. Just our lips meeting and then separating.
“We can’t start that… you look really fucking beautiful and… we gotta go, and Lucy is already in the car,” he groaned.
He pulled back from me and grabbed my hand, pulling me outside. He walked to the car door, opening it for me and guiding me in. He let go of my hand and closed the door. He hadn’t even made it to the driver's side when Lucy climbed up the console and into my lap.
“She’s gonna miss us when we leave her,” I said.
“We can always come visit,” he said, placing his hand on my lap.
“I know… it hurts thinking about leaving her,” I said.
He gave me a half smile.
We drove Lucy to Lina’s and then headed toward New Orleans. I’d never been there, but had always heard how magical it was.
“It’ll probably be busy, since we’re in the week before Mardi Gras,” he said.
“What is Mardi Gras exactly?” I asked. I’d heard the term, but didn’t know what it was.
“It’s basically a celebration before going into Lent. It starts early in January and goes until Ash Wednesday. The biggest celebration is the day before on Fat Tuesday, or Mardi Gras,” he said.
“Oh, I see,” I said.
“We are gonna take a slower route, see the countryside, see where I grew up. It will take about an hour to get there,” he said.
“I’m here for the ride, chief,” I said.
He laughed for nearly a minute. “I guess I started this little name-calling.”
“Yeah… except yours feels a little cruel,” I said.
“No. Does are sweet and gentle. Yes, they can be naive and wide-eyed. Once they get older, they are alert, aware, extremely intelligent, and nurturing. You’re all of those,” he said.
I smiled at him. The way he complimented me melted me in ways that I couldn’t explain. I reached over and put my hand on his thigh instead. He placed his hand over mine and squeezed it.
“Before we get there, especially if we’re holding hands or we kiss, not everyone will be so accepting of us,” he said.
“Good thing, I don’t care about anyone else,” I told him.
“I don’t care either. I just don’t want you to be surprised,” he said.
Once we got into New Orleans, we parked in a parking lot.
Quinn interlocked his hand with mine, pulling me along the way.
We got into a horse-drawn carriage, sitting side by side.
The guide took us all around downtown New Orleans.
After our carriage ride, we got out on Bourbon Street.
There were artists everywhere. Some were singing, some were playing beautiful music.
I pulled us both to a stop, listening and swaying to the violinist.
We went into a Cajun restaurant on the main strip.
As soon as you walked in, the smell of food hit your nose.
We sat at a little table across from each other.
We both got their famous meal—Trout Meunière Amandine.
As we were eating, an older white couple came into the restaurant.
Both of them immediately stared at us. As they were taken to their table, they both gave us a disgusted look.
This was what Quinn was talking about. Quinn and I both looked at each other, tilted our heads, and raised one brow—almost in sync.
Then we both burst into laughter. We enjoyed our lunch and then headed back onto the street. There was alcohol being handed out everywhere. We both got a glass of who-knows-what and sipped on it. It was strong, sweet, and melon-flavored.
Beads were being thrown everywhere, and women were flashing their tits in exchange for them. Some of them had dozens around their necks. My eyes widened as I took everything in. This made me realize that maybe I was a little sheltered.
“So, flash the titties and get the beads,” I said.
“Don’t think about it,” he growled.
“I… am quite prudish actually… but because you said not to,” I said.
“Zay,” he said in a warning tone.
I laughed. “I wouldn’t, but this jealous side of you is comical.”
As we walked, he reached down and grabbed a bead necklace and then placed it around my neck.
“I’ll take payment later,” he said.
Every part of my skin tingled with electricity.
My cheeks seared with heat. I’d hooked up with plenty of guys before, but this was different.
He wasn’t just some guy. Most of those guys, it was purely for sex, and that was it.
This was more than that. I could deny it every day, but I knew deep down that I had feelings for him.
I wanted him, but the idea made me nervous in a way that felt foreign.
We continued walking down the street, taking everything in. The live Jazz music was the most mesmerizing music I had listened to. Artists were painting in the street, with no cares in the world, just their paint and a canvas.