Page 82 of Sigma
I soap up in the shower from head to toes until the water is clear of bubbles, then drop the plug in and step out to fetch some towels and the bubble bath.
When I reach into the linen cupboard, I feel him directly behind me, so I turn to face him. He lifts me, sets me on the vanity, and moves in close, holding my jaw with both hands. The intense look of emotion in his eyes has me feeling all sorts of feelings.
“You,” he says, then swallows before he again says, “You…”
He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. He doesn’t know the words. But I don’t need them; I see the emotion and evenmore, I feel it. He’s glad I was there today. He’s crazy about me. He’s happy I’m his mate.
“You,” I parrot and I hope he knows I feel the absolute same way.
His eyes drift shut and he blows out a breath.
“Come have a bath with me. I’ll put lots of bubbles in it.”
“Of course you will,” he says, smiling.
“Bubble baths help in every situation,” I advise.
“You’re lucky I’m off my game or I’d give you shit about this ridiculous shower curtain,” he quips.
“You think it’s ridiculous?” I ask, fake-aghast.
“Completely,” he teases.
“Well, now it’s the camper shower curtain,” I threaten. “Or should I get a new shower curtain for the camper that’s double ridiculous?”
He rolls his eyes. “Do your worst, woman.”
“I plan to,” I tease before I kiss his soft lips and pour a big glug of bubblegum-scented bath foam into the tub.
***
We’re snuggled on my couch with the TV on after having finished cheeseburgers and chili fries that Linc ran over for us. He left it all just inside the door downstairs along with a six-pack of giant stuffed cookies sent over by Stacy Blackwood with a sweet little note on the box, and a six-pack of beer that I’m assuming is a gift from Linc.
I’ve had a text from Cat to invite us to brunch tomorrow at her apartment above the clinic, so we can talk more about the experimental drug. Or if we want to ask more questions. And just because.
I read him her text message and am just about to wax on about the cinnamon streusel coffee cake she always serves but he says, “I’m thinkin’ of taking the drug.”
“I don’t know,” I say.
He frowns.
“Well,” I say, “On one hand, it could connect you to your wolf. You could let him know he doesn’t have to kill everything that moves, that you’re safe. But… what if it makes things worse? What if it costs you your sanity and they want to put you away like they did your dad?” I storm to the counter and grab the bourbon bottle to pour us each another shot.
“Maybe I ought to talk to that alpha who has control over his wolf first.”
“Yeah. Because what if the drug turns you like the crazy one that’s on the loose right now? I think we should find out more about him. You’ve got the skills to dig in for more information if you know his name, right?”
“I do.”
“And really, you should just take a beat and think about it. Sleep on it. And we’ll talk more about it tomorrow. And the day after if you need more time.”
“Yeah.” He thrusts his hand through his hair.
“Wanna watch a movie?” I ask. “Veg out for a while?”
“Meh,” he mutters. “Whatever.”
“Wanna go back to the camper, have a fire, and stare at the stars instead?” I ask.
