8. Chapter 8
Arlo
Kiss him.
Kiss Gunnar.
Were we an actual couple, I’d be sucking on Gunnar’s face right now.
But we’re not. Gunnar hasn’t been on a date in years, he told me. Not since he lost his lover. He was uncomfortable with one-on-one conversations, and I can’t imagine he would feel any differently about kissing someone. Unless maybe he’s more comfortable with physical intimacy?
“E-excuse me?” The nerve of this arsehole! I have been friends with Derek for years, and at times like this, when he’s showing his whole bloody arse, I can’t justify why.
Derek leans across the table, his glare penetrating me down to my soul. “Kiss him. You only ever kiss guys you’re serious about. So, if you’re really serious about him, prove it.”
“Too far, Derek,” Imogen says.
“Agreed, you’re way over the line, bruv.” Rodney glares at him.
“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” I say, outrage burning my cheeks. “And neither does Gunnar!” How dare he? Maybe Derek won’t be the lifelong friend I’d hoped he would be.
“It’s all right, Lo.” A warm, calloused hand cups my cheek. The breath gets stuck in my chest when Gunnar lifts my face toward his. “If you’d like to give your friends a demonstration of just how passionate we can be, I’m all for it.”
He… is? My heart starts to race. Just when I thought he’d surely be uncomfortable, he goes and surprises me. The sexy bastard. I wet my lower lip. “I’m game if you are, darling.”
Is this really happening? Surely he’s toying with me.
Then warm lips brush mine, soft in contrast to the calloused fingers rasping over my cheek.
My mind goes blank, like the blue screen of death on old computers.
Gunnar is kissing me. It’s… tender, slow, cautious.
Not something I would expect from a man who looks like he spends weeks out in the wild away from civilization.
But it’s so him. Unexpected, sweet, gentle.
I feel like a sunflower to his sunlight, basking in his warmth after months of cloudy skies. I can hardly be blamed for melting against him, for surrendering so completely to this man who’s the opposite of everything I expected—everything I’d feared wolf shifters could be.
Gunnar hums low in his throat, cupping my face between his hands like I’m water in the desert and he’s dying of thirst. He kisses me until my lips tingle, nipping and sucking with an eagerness that makes me realize I was completely wrong in my assumption.
This man hasn’t been kissed in a long time, and what a damn shame that is.
His lips were made to be bitten, licked, worshipped until he’s out of breath.
Someone wolf-whistles, and it’s then I remember we have an audience. I lurch away from Gunnar, face burning. Imogen’s grinning. Rodney’s eating popcorn, though I don’t have a clue when he ordered that, and Derek looks like he tasted something foul.
I clear my throat and make myself smirk. “Convinced yet? Because I’d gladly go on.”
Derek raises both hands. “I got it. Sorry I was a dick. I’m just, you know…” He kicks my foot under the table.
“I know,” I tell him. He’s looking out for me, and after what happened, I can’t quite fault him for that.
“You two are good for each other.” Rodney snaps his fingers. “Hey! How about we play at your wedding?”
A smile breaks across my face. “Really?”
Imogen grins. “Fuck yeah. We’ll write some songs for you guys and everything!”
Not sure how my parents will like punk rock at our wedding, but who cares? It’s our special day.
“I’d love that,” I say, relieved that my friends are happy for us.
Will they be hurt if they find out it isn’t real?
My heart falls into my stomach.
I knew lying would be challenging. But I wasn’t prepared for just how awful it would feel to lie to those closest to me.
Something weighs on me after we leave the pub. Before we make it to my car, I take Gunnar’s arm. “Hey. Can we stay out a bit longer?”
Gunnar shrugs. “We going somewhere in particular?”
I smile, getting an idea. “It’s a surprise.”
We get in the car, and I drive over to Regent's Park. The park’s bustling today. The weather’s clear and cool, and it seems the whole city wants to take advantage of the sunshine.
“Are they rowing?” Just as I knew he would, Gunnar’s face lights up at the sight of all the boats in the artificial lake.
“Yup. The line is a little long, but it should move quickly. Do you want to wait?”
Gunnar bobs his head earnestly, a smile lifting his lips. Lips I’d kissed only a half hour ago. Concentrating during the rest of lunch had been bloody impossible when I’d kept replaying that kiss in my head.
His beard had tickled my skin when he kissed me, his lips soft and warm and so eager.
My heart skips just remembering the low groan that had vibrated from his throat, his fingers gripping my hair.
Had it all been a show for my friends, or had it meant something to him? Was he still thinking about it?
The line moves quickly enough, and we’re given a rowboat. Gunnar sits and holds out his hand to help me in. The boat rocks side to side, and I gasp, grabbing on tight to the sides of the boat. Gunnar snickers at me. He doesn’t take up the oars.
“Ready?” I ask.
Gunnar leans back, arms behind his head. “You need to get more comfortable in a boat if you’re to be my husband, dear.”
Heat flames my cheeks. “Very well. Easy.”
He holds up a finger. “And no magic.”
I huff. How the bloody hell did he know?
“I’m perfectly capable without magic!” I take up the oars, heart skipping.
Suddenly, I’m possessed by the urge to do this right.
To prove myself to him. Preposterous! I start rowing with the oars, sputtering when cold water splashes in my face.
Damn! These things are heavier than they look.
“Ow!” Something pulls in my shoulder. An infuriating smirk curls Gunnar’s lips.
“Need help?” he asks.
I scoff. “With what? A child could do this.” And right on cue, I smack myself in the chin with the oar. “Bloody fuck!” I double over, paralyzed with throbbing pain.
Sighing, Gunnar grabs the oars. “I’d better do this before you take out your eye.”
My whole face burns with embarrassment. “No, really. I wanted to try.”
Gunnar holds out his hands. I take them, trying to ignore the stupid fluttering in my stomach when he places my hands over the oars. He keeps his palms on top of mine as he starts to row. Our boat drifts away from the edge of the lake and farther out into the water.
Now that we’re getting somewhere, confidence fills me to the brim. “Can I do it?” He lets go and I keep on rowing. A grin spreads over my face as we glide over the surface of the lake, ripples disrupting the stillness of the water.
“You’re a natural,” Gunnar says, and I can’t help holding my head a little higher at his praise.
I wonder if Gunnar’s the kind of man to compliment someone in bed?
My cock threatens to stiffen, so I quickly say, “So, um… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.
” Gunnar frowns, lowering his gaze. The fact that he knows exactly why I’m apologizing makes me feel like utter shit.
“I knew my family and friends would have… feelings about our relationship. But I truly hoped they’d be happy for us. ”
Gunnar purses his lips, letting out a grumpy sound I can’t decipher.
“Hey.” I set down the oars, and we come to a stop in the middle of the lake. I put a hand on his knee and squeeze. His knee jerks, but not like he’s trying to buck me off, more out of shock. “It’s not you. I need you to know that. It’s all them.”
“I thought your father was just being overprotective. But your friend was the same way. It’s because I’m ulfhednar, isn’t it?” Gunnar asks, penetrating me with frustrated silver eyes.
I wince. “All right. Yes. My family has had trouble with ulfhednar before.” It’s not the full truth, but nor is it a lie.
“Did something happen?”
My heart sinks. “I…” I tear my gaze away and look out over the lake. Gunnar deserves the truth; I know he does. My turtleneck suddenly feels too tight.
“There was this—” The words escape me, like water through my shaky fingers.
“Lo?” His voice is almost drowned out by the roaring of my heart in my ears.
Shit, shit, shit. I can’t talk about this. I’ve got to get out of this boat.
“Can we go back?” The shore looks farther away than it did before. Oh goddess. I’m stuck here in this boat with a shifter.
“Oi.” Gunnar touches my knee, and though his touch is gentle, all I can imagine are claws sprouting, piercing through flesh down to the bone.
What if he loses control? What if—
“Lo!” Gunnar grabs for me as I bolt over the side of the boat and into the lake. It isn’t that deep but I lose my footing and water submerges me, muffling all sound. The cold bites into my skin, making my limbs stiffen.
Waves pelt me as a dark shape falls into the water beside me and two strong arms slip under my armpits.
I gasp when I break the surface, kept afloat only by Gunnar’s arms. He kicks, propelling us toward the boat with his strong legs.
He turns us so that I’m facing the boat.
“Grab on, Lo. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall. ”
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely grasp the boat, but I manage. Gunnar helps me in and then heaves himself into the boat after me. Grabbing a blanket from under the seat, he throws it over my soaking body. He’s saying something, but I’m too mortified to listen.
Goddess, what did I just do?
“What were you thinking?” Gunnar snaps as he grabs the oars and rows us quickly toward the shore.
“I w-wasn’t!” I retort, almost biting my tongue off from how badly my teeth are chattering. “I’m s-sorry!”
Gunnar exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Odin’s beard, Lo! You could have drowned! We’ve got to teach you how to swim.”
I blink water out of my eyes. “W-what?”
“You want me to accept your apology? Learn to swim. You’re not going to die. Not on my watch.”
The haunted look that shadows his face renders me speechless.
Fine. I’ll do whatever he wants.
Just so long as I never have to see that look on his face again.
The moment we’re home, Mum and Dad come rushing across the room.
“What happened to you two?” Mum asks.
“Boating accident,” I say.
Dad arches his brow. “You never go boating.” His icy gaze lands on Gunnar. “Not until he met you.”
Gunnar’s nostrils flare. “He needs blankets. Warm clothing. A hot bath. Now!”
“The bathroom’s right over here!” Mum leads Gunnar down the hall. I’m perfectly capable of walking, but Gunnar keeps me glued to his side, for which I’m grateful. His body is like a furnace. Thank the goddess wolves run hotter than most.
Nan calls out, “I’ll make you a cuppa!”
Hot tea sounds amazing right now.
Mum gets the bath running and leaves us to our own devices.
“Foot,” Gunnar says, kneeling before me.
“Not really my fetish, but okay.”
I’m reminded he doesn’t know what that is when he doesn’t crack a smile at my joke.
Too bad. I thought it was funny. I prop my foot in his palm and let him tug off my boots and remove my wet socks.
His hands are unsteady, his lips set in a thin line as he undresses me.
When he reaches my belt, he pauses, exhales.
“Don’t leave the bath until you’re completely warm,” he says.
I huff a laugh, unable to help myself. “I took plenty of baths before you came along, you know.” His concern for me is sweet, but I feel awful for worrying him. I take his hand and squeeze it. “Thank you.”
His lips twitch in an attempt at a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes. Gunnar pulls his hand away and clears his throat. He turns and grabs the doorknob but doesn’t move for a moment. “I was thinking… we should have the ceremony as soon as possible.”
I smile. “Why? Worried I’ll die before I can make good on my promise?”
Gunnar leaves the bathroom without answering me.