Page 78 of The Gamma's Second Chance

I smile at him and let go of his hand when we reach the booths, walking ahead of him and examining the various wares and trinkets. He stays close, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, eyes on me the entire time. He’s back to his quiet, serious self today, aware of his surroundings and any potential danger, even while focused on me.

His protective, observant presence warms me and tickles my lycan. She pushes to the forefront of my mind, making me peek at him every so often, practically drooling over the possessiveness radiating from his body language as he follows me.

His proximity, his obvious attention to my every move, and his scent lingering between my legs leave little doubt of the nature of our relationship to anyone watching or passing nearby. Shortof marking me, he’s made a clear claim and painted a warning to others to stay away.

I am his. In almost every way, I am his.

“Oh, look how pretty these are!” I say when we reach a jewelry booth.

“Those are for kids, Cassandra,” Nolan says, huffing out a soft laugh behind me, his hand coming to rest on my hip.

“I know it’s not normal for werewolves and lycans to wear jewelry much after we’ve had our first shift since we’d just ruin it, but I love jewelry,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at him.

A flash of gloating satisfaction lingers on his features. He works to neutralize his expression as I face him, but I catch the tail end of the smugness. “What?”

He shakes his head and shrugs. “Nothing.”

I frown at him but turn my focus to the jewelry table. My fingers trail across the beaded bracelets and the delicate earrings. “I collect jewelry from beautiful places. When I was in the hospital, I watched jewelry making videos. Because of that, my grandparents bring me pieces from places they visit. I keep them in a special wooden jewelry box my mpampa made for me.”

I glance at him again, and he stares at me, his throat bobbing and his fingers flexing against my hip. His eyes scan my face, moving to my pierced but empty earlobes, then to my neck, before they trail down my arm and across the handmade pieces on the table in front of us, where his eyes lock onto an item for sale. “Well, then I guess we should get you something from here, too, shouldn’t we?”

My smile grows, and Nolan’s chest presses into my back, warm and solid and safe as he reaches for a set of earrings. “We’ll take these,” he tells the vendor.

“Can you hold on to them for a bit?” I ask her, pointing behind me towards Nolan’s house. “I left my wallet at home and—”

“I’ve got it,” Nolan says, cutting me off and pulling cash out of his pocket.

I raise a brow at him but pinch my lips together to stop my protests. As much as I already feel indebted to him for barging into his life and invading his space and his home, it feels right to accept a gift from him. To let him pamper me and take care of me.

“Thank you, Gamma Nolan,” she says, nodding her head at him as she places the money in her till. “They will look beautiful on you,” she adds, grinning at me.

Nolan wraps his arm around my waist and guides me away from the booth of distracting, sparkly jewelry, then circles to face me when we’re out of the way of passersby. “Do you want to wear them now?” he asks, holding out the tiny gold studs in the shape of daisies.

“Do you want me to wear them now?” I echo back.

His lips twitch, and he leans closer to me, tucking my hair behind my ears. I tilt my chin up and angle my face to the side as he removes the back from one earring and slides it into my ear. His breath tickles my skin and teases the wisps of hair framing my face, and my heart stutters in my chest. His thumb and forefinger grip my chin and tip my face to the other side, where he puts the other earring in.

The contrast between the strength of his stature and the size of his hands compared to the gentleness he uses while placing his gift on my body fills me with warmth. His fingertips trail across my jaw, and he lifts my chin, lowering his lips to meet mine in a tender yet possessive kiss.

“Perfect,” he says, eyes flitting to each ear before meeting mine again. “Daisies for my Daisy.”

“Thank you,” I say on an exhale.

We stand like that, tucked between two booths, his arm around my waist and his fingers caressing my jaw. Our eyesnever leave each other, and our breaths sync, falling into a steady rhythm. My fingers curl into his white shirt, and I lean in closer. His body is a massive, sturdy wall of muscle, his arms the safest of safe places, and I never want to leave.

“They’re ready for us at the archery area,” he murmurs, combing his fingers through my hair.

I nod but otherwise don’t move. I’m glued in place. His piercing gaze extends straight through me. It roots me to the spot I stand in. My smile softens and each pass of his hand through the long strands of my hair eases something inside me.

Nolan’s lips tug into a bigger smile. He glides his palm down my arm, clasping my hand in his and walking back to where Holden is in charge of the archery targets, forcing me to move with him. “If we don’t go, they’ll give our turn to someone else, and who knows how long the waitlist is now. This may be our only chance.”

Holden greets us with a wave when we arrive at the booth. Nolan and I sign the release forms, and I enter the range, practically skipping with excitement as the male warrior working with Holden hands me the bow. Nolan stays on the far side of the booth and outside the roped-off area, waiting until it is his turn.

We may heal quicker than humans, but that doesn’t mean we have complete disregard for safety.

“Are you going to the mating ball this weekend?” Holden asks Nolan as the instructor explains to me the proper way to hold the bow.

I peek at them, and Nolan nods at Holden, his arms crossed over his chest. “I am.”

---