Page 22 of Shifters in the Night

He snickered. “And yet, here you stand.”

“So, this is a nice place,” she offered, unsure of what else to say. She swore to all the forest gods that she would stick with ice cream on girls’ nights from now on.

“This is a really awkward conversation, isn’t it?” he said, laughing.

“It really is,” Lia answered. “We really need to stop meeting when I’m not wearing clothes.”

“For the record, I have no control over that.”

“That is true,” she conceded. “So this is the famous boat shop? You’re working a little late, aren’t you?”

Jon frowned. “I’ve had to, here lately, to catch up on jobs I’ve got backlogged. Don’t want to lose any more customers.”

She feathered her fingertips over his wrinkled brow. “I’m sorry you’re so stressed.”

“You use your gift to see that?” Jon asked.

“I don’t need my gift to see that.” She cupped her hand around his chin. “This still isn’t a date, huh?”

He chuckled. “Nope. You wandering into my yard on four feet while a little tipsy doesn’t count as a date.”

“What gave me away?” Lia asked.

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

“What!” she exclaimed, glancing down at her perfectly normal hoodie. She glared up at him without heat. “That wasn’t nice.”

“No, but it was funny,” he said as she gently bumped his shoulder, losing her balance on the uneven ground and falling into him ever so slightly.

“You make me laugh,” she told him as his arms closed around her waist. “A lot of people here do. I don’t normally laugh like this with people.”

“Well, I’m glad,” he said. His mouth was close to hers. All it would take was leaning a few inches forward and she would be kissing him.

As if he could read her thoughts, he reminded her, “You’ve had a few drinks. I don’t want to take advantage.

“I wanted to kiss you when I was sober,” she told him. “But you have a lot of rules.”

“I want to kiss you, too,” he assured her. “But no further than that until after a date, and you’re totally sober.”

“So many rules,” she said, shaking her head. He leaned forward and pressed his warm, soft lips against hers. He tasted like cinnamon and sweetness, like the pie Siobhan had served her. She moaned softly into his mouth, clutching at his shirt. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to suddenly center on her mouth and the way it was moving against his. She could feel him everywhere and all she wanted was more. She threaded her fingers through his hair, making him shiver against her. She could feel … something firm pressing against her belly.

Hmm, that was interesting. She ran her fingers through his hair again, and he shuddered again, stroking his tongue along her lips. His hands slid to meet over her ass, squeezing lightly. But then he seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled his hands away.

“I’d like to drive you back home.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “That’s not true. I would like you to come into the house and stay, for a long time, but I think I should probably take you home.”

“I can run on my own,” she said.

He took her hands in his. “I know you’re perfectly capable of doing it. I would just feel better if I knew you got home safely.”

She nodded, giving him one last kiss on the point of his chin. “OK.”

With his arm around her waist, he led her across the lawn, to a blue-and-rust colored truck in the driveway. He opened the (unlocked) door for her and she noticed that his keys were in the ignition. What must it be like to live in a place where you could trust other people like that?

“Buckle up,” he told her, carefully backing out of his driveway.

Somehow, driving down the road, the trees arching over the truck, felt so much darker than running through the woods. It was peaceful, riding quietly with Jon as he held her hand. It was such a simple, teenage thing to do, but it felt so nice to be connected that way.

That could be the alcohol talking.

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