Page 9 of Trouble Walked In

“Yeah. I'm starved. I can work on something to go with it, if you want?”

“That'd be great,” he said, moving toward the patio to fire up the grill.

By the time he went back inside to grab the burgers, Moira was already busy chopping something on the cutting board. When she set the knife down, he went and wrapped his arms around her waist. Dipping his head down, he breathed in her warm vanilla scent and pressed a kiss to her neck. He had never been so attracted to a woman's scent before.

“You smell nice,” he said, taking nips at her throat.

She laughed and asked, “Like that half a vodka tonic I'm wearing or the beer that someone spilled on my shoe?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, chuckling. “But mostly you smell like vanilla frosting.”

Moira leaned back into his chest, confusion clearly written on her face. She asked, “Frosting? I don't even think I own anything vanilla scented. Maybe a candle?”

“It's a shifter thing,” he explained. “Everyone has a scent. Some good, some bad. You can tell a lot about a person by their scent.”

“Like some kind of personality test?” she asked, picking the knife up again to chop.

He tilted his head and said, “Sorta, I guess. Things like evil, anger, and hate have particular scents. My wolf lets me know who to avoid.”

“Your wolf? Like a second personality? I'm not being rude. I just... You're the only person I've ever met that was a shifter.”

When he was silent, trying to think of a way to explain it, she set the knife down and said, “Or you can just tell me to stop being nosy. I'm sorry.”

He gave her a reassuring squeeze and said, “Shh. It's fine. I would expect you to be curious about what you're gettin' yourself into.”

“More like what's getting into me,” she joked, nudging him with her elbow.

It seemed so uncharacteristic that he had to laugh. “Classy, cupcake. How 'bout you work on that and I'll go grill some burgers. Then we'll see if I can't find something sweet for dessert,” he said suggestively, giving her neck another nip.

“Mmm. Sounds like a plan,” she sighed, leaning back against him.

****

By the time they were done with dinner, Moira looked exhausted. He cleaned up the kitchen while she showered. By the time she was done, he was wiped out, too. After a quick shower of his own, he found the lights off and Moira curled up in bed.

He tried to make as little noise as possible when he crawled into the bed beside her. She was facing away from him, but he could tell by the sound of her breathing that she was still awake. He wasn't sure whether or not she was trying to tell him that she didn't want to be touched, so he laid there for a moment. That was when he heard a soft sniffle. Something clenched in his gut and he reached for her.

He brought her back up against his chest and said, “Don't cry.” Naturally, his words only made her cry harder, so he did the only thing he could. He held her while she cried it out. He imagined whatever had gone down with her father had finally hit her. She hadn't given him much detail, but any world in which you were introduced to someone and then told you were going to marry them wasn't exactly a fair one.

Eventually, she rubbed the tears from her cheeks and said, “Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just fall apart on you. I'm fine now. Get some sleep.”

He snorted. “Not likely, cupcake. Talk to me.”

She gave a shuddering sigh and said, “My life is a mess. I'm gonna have to quit school. I was only five classes away from my degree. Now I'm relying entirely on you because I have no other choice unless I want to marry some old guy my father picked out.”

“Some things have to change,” he reasoned. “Not everything, though. What's your degree in?”

“Business Management,” she said, sniffling again.

“The community college in Sanders has a bachelors program in that. It's where I got my own degree, sweetheart. It's no University of Florida, but it's not that bad. Transfer there and finish up your courses. It may take a bit longer if you're working, but it's still accredited.”

“I won't even ask how you knew I went to UF. And I didn't even realize community colleges even had bachelors programs,” she responded quietly.

“It was a wild guess,” he said. Then he added, “Some do. Not a ton of programs. A couple, though. I think they had interior design, too, or some shit like that.”

He heard the smile in her voice when she said, “I think I'll take a pass.”

“I was really torn,” he teased. “You can see by my choice of color palettes in here that I really have a knack for interior design.”

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