Chapter 24 #2
“He does?” I ask in soft surprise. I saw it in his thoughts, but after two years of the strange intimacy we shared, it’s almost hard to believe that while I was developing what I thought were inappropriate thoughts about him, he was doing the same about me. Saints, we’ve waited so long.
“He absolutely does. But he’ll go at your pace, so if you’re waiting for him to make a move, you’ll be disappointed.”
“Kinda wanted to be swept off my feet,” I tease in a fake grumble.
“Oh, given the chance, he’ll do just that, if he knows you want him to.”
“I do,” I say quietly. “I really do.”
“Then you let him know where your heart lies.”
With him. My heart lies with him.
I find Marcus in the library, reading a book from Pack Leclerc’s collection, another mystery by the looks of it, the cover tattered and well loved.
I watch him from the door for a moment; he’s so engrossed in his book that he doesn’t notice my approach.
For someone always on alert to keep me safe, it’s nice to see him so relaxed.
I feel like I’m seeing a side of him that few people see, and it feels like the greatest blessing.
I rap at the door, and he looks up sharply. He sets the book aside and comes to me immediately.
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” I assure him. “I was hoping you’d come somewhere with me?” I’m suddenly shy around him, afraid of a rejection that never comes.
“Anywhere, sweet-tart. Where are we going?”
I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen, where a picnic basket is waiting on the kitchen table. “Ta-da! I made you a slightly terrible picnic.”
“I thought terrible picnics were Luca’s cross to bear.”
I shoot him a sour look, my eyes narrowed.
“This one isn’t very terrible. Cassian helped.
Anyway, I wanted to… to take you on a date.
I wanted to go back to Northwest Harbor so you could see how beautiful it is from the beach instead of the parking lot, but I know that’s too dangerous.
So, we’ll have to settle for Bethany’s garden, but her lupines are blooming, and Cassian assures me they’re gorgeous.
” I press onward. “It’ll be safe for us.
Pack Leclerc’s security walks the perimeter, as you well know, and my pack is also walking the grounds to make sure we’re safe. ”
“You got the whole pack in on this?”
I blush lightly. “They were more than happy to help. I wanted you to be able to relax and not have to worry about protecting me the whole time.”
“Juniper, I’ll never not worry about your protection, but I’d love to picnic with you.” He shoots me one of his rare smiles, his cheeks dimpling.
I grab an old blanket Bethany found for me, and Marcus gamely picks up the picnic basket, eyeing it with curiosity. “What did you make?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I tease, earning me another one of his heart-stopping smiles. Saints, I could get used to seeing Marcus like this, with his smiles just for me.
We make our way onto the grounds, and I lead him down a stone walkway toward Bethany’s garden.
It truly is a thing of beauty. Her lupines are blooming, awash with purples, pinks and blues.
Purple phlox creeps over the ground, fat bumblebees drifting from flower to flower.
Hyssop, columbines, and milkweed decorate the garden, filling the air with fragrance.
There’s a small grass clearing in the center of the flowers, and it’s there that I spread out the picnic blanket.
When we sit, we’ll be hidden within the flowers, secreted away to a world of our own.
It may not be Northwest Harbor, but it is romantic, and I’m grateful to Bethany for offering her beautiful garden as a picnic space for us.
Marcus sets down the picnic basket, and I open it, revealing two bottles of very ugly smoothie. Pinkish brown, they look as far from appetizing as possible, but I pass one to Marcus with a cringe.
“I promise it tastes better than it looks. They’re strawberry, but I know how much you like your green smoothies, so I added some fresh spinach. You can’t taste it, but you sure can see it.”
He grins and uncaps the bottle, taking a swig. “It doesn’t taste nearly as brown as it looks,” he teases, and I can’t help but laugh. “Delicious, Juniper. You did a good job.”
“That’s not all, of course.” I draw out two large plastic containers filled with a garden salad and a jar of dressing, which I give a good shake.
“Cassian helped with the chopping because I kept turning the tomatoes to mush, but I made the lemon pepper chicken and the dressing,” I explain, passing him a container and a jar of dressing.
I watch with bated breath as he dresses his salad, tosses it with his fork and takes a generous bite. I raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to cringe as I wait for his verdict.
“It’s great, sweet-tart. This is an amazing picnic. Not terrible in the least.”
I settle down on the blanket beside him, dressing my own salad.
“See? I’m getting better. Luca just had to endure my early…
mishaps.” I sigh as I dig into my food. “I really wish we could have gone to Northwest Harbor, but Ian, Luca, and Cassian were adamant that we stay somewhere safe, and I can’t think of many places safer than behind the stone walls of the Leclerc estate.
I just… you’ve been on so many of my dates, protecting me, watching from the sidelines.
I wanted us to have a proper date, too.”
“We will,” he promises. “As soon as it’s safe, Juniper, I’ll take you on a hundred dates.”
I blush and duck my head. “Really?”
“Really,” he promises. “Besides, I still have to out-skate you.”
“You?” I ask, incredulous. “A California boy?”
“Who played hockey for ten years.”
I smile. “I never knew that about you, but I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
“You know what’s important. You know what’s in my heart.”
I do, because I read it in his deepest thoughts.
We finish our meal in silence, and I twiddle a blade of grass between my fingers, trying to figure out how to make my move.
Saints, the last time I tried to make the first move and kissed Simon, it ended with his gentle rejection.
But that was when I didn’t know about him and Cassian, when secrets kept us apart, just as secrets kept me and Marcus apart.
Saints, my men really have kept things from me.
I shake the thought out of my head. The past is the past. Now, in this moment, I need to figure out how to kiss Marcus Haley and not make a fool of myself.
“Juniper? What’s wrong?”
“I really want to kiss you,” I blurt out before clapping my hands over my mouth. My cheeks flush darkly, but Marcus shoots me a challenging grin.
“Then kiss me, sweet-tart.”
I swallow hard and crawl to him, my heart fluttering in my throat. I take his jaw in my hand, reveling in the short stubble there, and stare at his lips.
It’s Marcus who closes the distance between us, his scent spiking and surrounding us with cool pine and wintery winds.
He kisses me so sweetly, with so much ardor I feel it in every cell of my being.
I whine into his kiss, swaying closer as his lips move over mine.
When I feel his tongue at the seam of my lips, I open for him, moaning at the first touch of his tongue to mine.
He drags me into his lap so I’m straddling him, and I press into him, into the hard planes of his muscles.
I gasp as he deepens the kiss, more of his scent flooding my lungs with the sharp intake of my breath.
He nuzzles my nose, marking me in his scent as though I wasn’t already covered in it.
Still, his claim stirs something inside me.
Touch by touch, he’s making me his. When he kisses me again, I whine, clinging to him.
Saints, his muscles aren’t the only hard thing between us.
The thought that I’ve caused this alpha’s arousal has me perfuming, honey, vanilla and jasmine filling the air, melding with his scent into something so perfectly us.
He growls into our kiss, and if I hadn’t just perfumed, that would have made me do so. Instead, a shiver licks down my spine.
Boots scuff the path to the garden, and something hits the ground with a dull slap.
Marcus and I spring apart, both of us blushing furiously. I let out a nervous giggle when I see Cass’ father, Roman, on the garden path.
“Kids, I had no idea.” He turns away so he’s not looking at us, but Marcus angles himself in front of me all the same, always protecting me.
Too bad he can’t protect me from the embarrassment of getting caught by one of Cassian’s dads.
“Oh, saints,” he groans. “Beth told me to avoid the garden. I come here to sketch when I need to think, and I just thought she meant the bees, not that… Saints, I really should listen to my mate. I’m so sorry.
I shouldn’t have intruded, but you see, I couldn’t see you behind the flowers, and now I’m rambling and—”
Marcus lets out an awkward laugh. “We were, um, just leaving. We finished our picnic and, um, yeah. Let’s get back to the house, Juniper.
” Marcus helps me to my feet and folds the picnic blanket with quick, economical movements.
He gives it to me and picks up our dishes and stuffs them into the picnic basket.
We leave the garden hand in hand, and the moment we’re free of the flowers, I giggle, and he laughs. Saints, I love the sound of his laugh; it sounds so carefree, and in this moment, I know he is carefree. We dash through the yard to the door, but Marcus tugs my hand, pulling me to a stop.
“Not done with you yet,” he rumbles. He presses me up against the door to the manor, wedging his knee between my thighs. His scent spikes again, and I whine, wanting so much more from him.
“Marcus,” I pant, expecting his kiss.
“Juniper,” he teases, clearly knowing what he’s doing to me. I lean in for his kiss, needing to feel his lips on mine.
Instead, he presses the sweetest kiss to my forehead. I’m coming to realize that he puts everything, all of his deepest thoughts and desires that he can’t put into words, into the simple gesture of kissing my forehead. And it’s more precious to me than any kiss on the lips.