A smile took over the scowl. “That’s the first time in a long time someone’s said that me running my mouth was cute.”
“You don’t run your mouth.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You know this already?”
“Not that I’ve seen yet,” he amended. “I think you talk exactly the right amount. And you’re not afra
id to be silent, which is the most important part. Especially when you’re talking to me, because I can’t chatter to save my life.”
“Beats a lot of guys,” she said. “I know plenty who can’t shut up about their cars or their hunting license or their fishing poles or how many girls they banged last week. Gets old fast.”
Grey thought about the men he was working with, and chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. “Well, my only car is this old thing, and as long as it’s working I don’t have much to say about it. I only hunt with my claws, not with a gun, and same with fishing. I didn’t bang any girls last week and I’m not ashamed to admit that. So I guess I’m fresh out of conversation.”
“So what do you do with your time, if you’re not bragging about your man hobbies?”
Man hobbies. He stifled another chuckle.
“Learn the land. Hunt and fish, like I said. I do a little woodworking.” His cabin hadn’t had much when he’d arrived, just a bed and an enormous wooden table in the kitchen with one rickety little chair. He’d fixed the chair up and made a second one, and he’d made one bookcase and was mostly done with a second one. Which reminded him to say, “I read. History mostly.”
“Sounds like a nice, quiet life.”
“Mostly.” Mostly quiet, except for the logging. Mostly nice, except for the logging. And except for how he wouldn’t mind sharing it all with someone. But saying that last part to Alethia would be coming on a little too strong, so he held it back.
Instead, he said, “My life used to be a lot wilder.”
Her eyebrows came down, forming a delicate frown. “Oh?” She sounded cautious.
He nodded. “When I was young, I made a habit of getting into stupid fights and taking dumb risks. Sometimes I’d shift and run around where people might see. Where I grew up in Utah isn’t like here, where so many people know about shifters. Anyone who saw a snow leopard wandering the streets would have called the police about a dangerous wild animal. But I was a dumb kid with dumb friends, so I didn’t care.”
“What changed?” she asked quietly.
Grey stared out the windshield. “One of my friends got killed. Ben. It was just another stupid stunt like a million stupid stunts we’d pulled—jumping across this gorge that was barely narrow enough to make it—and he fell and broke his neck. After that I figured it was time to grow up and stop being an idiot.”
He felt a feather-touch on his arm, and glanced over. She’d rested her hand, soft and smooth with its rose-pink nails, against his bicep.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and the gentle pressure lifted.
He shivered. It was such a small touch, but he felt it all the way through him.
“It was a long time ago. But thanks.” He shook off the memory, and changed the subject. “What about you? What do you do with your time?”
“Oh…” She hesitated, then let the painful topic go. “I work, as much as the diner will let me. I help Molly and Paul around the house. I go out with Denise and…friends.”
Guys, Grey interpreted.
“But lately I’ve been realizing that some of those friends aren’t very nice to me. I don’t have a very good time when I’m with them.” Her eyelashes were a shadowed sweep, hiding her eyes. “I used to be wild, too. Back when I was nineteen or twenty, I was this big social butterfly. But it got me in trouble sometimes. And it didn’t make me very happy, in the end.”
Grey was silent. She was obviously talking around the fact that she’d had some bad experiences with men, but he didn’t want to drag it out into the open when she was keeping it vague. He did want to find those guys and teach them how to treat a woman.
She took a deep breath. “So I’ve been going on a lot of walks lately. Not hikes, because like I said, I don’t want to be an idiot and get myself hurt, but the mountains are beautiful from anywhere in Prescott, so I like to just go out and take a look at them.” She smiled. “Also, I actually do have woman hobbies. I like makeup and nails and shopping for nice clothes I can actually afford.”
“Sometimes I wonder how women do that,” Grey admitted.
“It takes a lot of work to look good on a careful budget.” Alethia was still smiling, but he could tell she was serious underneath it. “You have to pay attention to the sales and shop the thrift stores, and be real good at sewing things up and getting stains out. Molly, my sister-in-law, gets on my case about clothes, but it’s not like I’m a shopaholic. Just because I don’t have a lot of money doesn’t mean I can’t have something nice now and then.”
“Of course not.” You deserve something nice.
Against his will, a series of images floated into his head. Alethia waiting at home for him, him bringing her a necklace or perfume as a present… Going out on a walk together and seeing her wearing what he’d bought for her, smelling a scent he’d chosen… Coming home and laying her down and giving her something else…