I tug off the warm scarf. “While I appreciate that, I’m not the one you attacked.”
“No, but I terrified you, and I’m sorry for that.” He takes the scarf from me. “Owen and I have made amends, and I’ll apologize to Tris, too.”
I shake my head in confusion. “Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden? Our bond is good now. You didn’t need to ever say anything.”
“Because, yesterday, I watched Owen step up and defend his position as Alpha. He never would have done that before. He’s changed, and that change has made him stronger.” Haut reaches out to catch my hand. “I don’t want to be the only one who can’t change. I don’t want you to only like me. You stare at Tris, Owen, and Ambros with so much love, and I want you to love me, too.”
My lips part, ready to tell him I love him, too, but he holds up a hand.
“It’s okay that you don’t love me yet. You had a bond with Tris and Owen that grew over years. And the bond you share with Ambros was forged during an intense time of pain and healing.” He looks away from me. “But we don’t have any of that. I lied to you. I pushed you, and I threatened those you care for.”
His gaze returns to mine. “Sure, we’ve moved past it, but we’ve never talked about it, so it’s still in the shadows, hovering over us. That’s why I want to court you. I want you to know that you’re more to me than the Wendall witch. And I want you to know that I’m more than a sexy brute.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Nice self-compliment.”
He returns my smile. “I know which of my attributes you like the best.”
“I’m a simple woman.” He snorts, which I graciously ignore. “I know you’re more than a sexy brute, Haut. You’re protective, strong, and so pushy I frequently consider smothering you in your sleep.”
He purses his lips in consideration before he shakes his head. “That would never work. You’re not sneaky enough.”
“Agree to disagree.” I squeeze his fingers. “But I also know that I can count on you to stand up for what’s right. You’ve also always believed in me, even though I’m a terrible witch, and I’m easily distracted and erratic and don’t act like normal people do—”
His hand covers my mouth, and he gives a warning growl. “There’s nothing wrong with how you act or the way you think. And everyone is terrible at the start when they’re learning something new. You’ll get there with time and practice.”
There he goes again, believing in me when I struggle to believe in myself.
I tug his hand down. “So, you’re going to court me?”
He gives a firm nod. “I’m going to court you.”
“What does that mean?” I’ve only read about that kind of thing in books.
“Well, I’m not sure,” he admits. “But we’re going to start with finding you a warm jacket. I can’t have my mate freezing in the winter.”
“I need slippers, too. The house gets cold, and now that we don’t have a hall runner, my feet are going to freeze.” I add the hat to the scarf he still holds. “You can buy those. But I’m buying the sweaters.”
“Wait, coming here was my idea,” he protests as he follows me to the cash register, where Hillary waits with our other items.
“Hey, this is the modern age, mister.” I pull out my wallet. “You’re not the only one who can go courting.”
Hillary giggles as she rings up all the sweaters, and I forgive her for lusting after my man. It’s not her fault he’s a prime piece of meat that I took off the market.
After Haut pays for the scarf and hat, he bundles me up in them before claiming the shopping bags to carry. Which I allow, because I may be a modern woman, but I’m not a stupid one, and those bags look heavy.
Back outside, the crisp air bites at our faces, and I snuggle my chin into my scarf.
Haut shifts the bags to one hand and claims mine with his other one, slipping it into his warm pocket.
Courting sure feels nice.
As we walk down the street to the larger department store, I consider ways for Haut to court my other hand, which is lacking the warmth of his pocket.
We reach the next stop before I figure out a subtle way to shove both hands into his pockets. Now wise to my shopping ways, Haut steers me straight to the section of store with the jackets and quickly finds me a red jacket with a fur-lined hood that fits.
He then takes me to the shoe section, where we find slippers and a pair of winter boots.
But he doesn’t stop there. We also go the sock section, where he adds thick wool socks and lined leggings to our selection, and we find a pair of stretchy gloves that fit my small hands.