Damn his mother’s wisdom. Perhaps he hadn’t been clear with Kathleen. He might have made her feel like she was always going to be under his thumb, expected to bow to his bidding for the rest of her life.
All he’d meant to instill in her was a sense that he would make her body hum with need often and with great passion. In pushing her body to respond in ways he knew she could, had he worried her into believing he would be demanding to her at all times?
That hadn’t been his intention.
His mother was right about one thing. He needed to go to her. It wasn’t as though he would be able to relax or sleep again in this lifetime without holding her in his arms. Whatever he needed to do to make amends and ensure his sweet mate’s needs were met, he needed to buck up and do it now. She was his, even if he had to bury his dominant nature to keep her.
After just a few hours without her, he ached. Not just his cock, but his chest. He’d fallen for her hard. Visions of her face as she came apart in his arms flooded his memory.
He needed to see that expression again, today and every day until he died. No matter what the cost.
He didn’t say another word. He just grabbed his keys off the back hook and walked out the door.
Thank God he was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and shoes. Otherwise, he’d have been greeting her family in whatever attire he’d had on because changing was the last thing on his mind.
It took less than fifteen minutes to make the drive to Kathleen’s house. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
He stood nervously at her front door after knocking, totally unprepared to face her parents. What had she told them? What if they were pissed at him?
He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. It was so unnerving being out of his element. He’d always been in control of nearly every situation in his life. This tiny sprite of a mate of his had turned his world upside down and shaken it for good measure.
And he was determined to ensure she continued to do so for the next eighty years.
When the door opened, he was faced with both of Kathleen’s parents. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
“Gabriel. Come in,” her mother said.
Relief flooded him. She knew who he was and she didn’t appear to be ready to shoot him. A glance at her father indicated a similar attitude from him. Two points.
Her father extended a hand. “Todd Davis. This is my wife, Carina.”
“Nice to meet you, sir. Ma’am.” He took Todd’s hand and nodded at Carina.
“Please. Have a seat.” Carina motioned toward the couch. “I’ll get Kathleen for you. Or would you just like to go up and find her yourself?”
“No.” He shook his head, not moving toward the sofa. He doubted she’d want to see him in such tight quarters just yet. “Perhaps she would go for a walk with me. It’s nice out now that the sun is down.”
Carina smiled warmly. “Why don’t you two sit out back? We have a sun porch. The weather is perfect. I’ll go get her.” She turned toward her husband. “Todd, would you show Gabriel to the back porch?”
Todd smiled, a mischievous grin that made Gabe swallow hard. Gabe followed the man through the kitchen and out the back door. “My wife told me only bits and pieces of what she could pull out of Kathleen. I don’t know the whole story, but I’ll just warn you that Kathleen is young and naïve and this is probably overwhelming to her. Just, take it easy on her. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“You’re right, sir. I’m sure I just haven’t quite said the right things, but I want you to know my heart is in the right place. I will do right by your daughter, always.” His voice cracked as he spoke. He’d never been so nervous. The experience was far too human for him. Wolves didn’t usually face as many crises as this. Mates were destined most of the time. The usual formalities were overkill.
Todd grinned again and shook his head. He reentered the house mumbling, “Good luck.” The man knew his daughter. She was apparently as feisty with her family as she was with him, judging by their reactions.
Chapter Seven
Kathleen stepped outside with trepidation. She let the door shut behind her with a quiet snick. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” he whispered.
He looked worried, a crease between his eyes extended up to his forehead. His hands were jammed into his jeans pockets.
“Sorry I ran,” she muttered.
“Sorry I pushed you,” he added.
“I was . . . confused. This is all more than I ever expected.”
“I know. And I did a piss-poor job of explaining myself to you. I wanted you so bad and you smelled so fucking good. . ." He took a deep breath. “Sit with me?”