At least I’ve still got hands, feet, and a mouth to smirk.
“I’m forty-two,” I tell her.
For a moment, I think about our age gap. Twenty-two years, but then a vision of glinting teeth cuts into my mind. Of reaching claws. If anybody tried to threaten my Ruby, I'd collapse into a hulking body covered in silver fur and battle with rage.
I’m older, yes. And maybe she won’t like that.
But she’ll like the truly dangerous truth far less.
“When can you start?” I ask, knowing I need to get away from her soon.
There’s only so much I can take, even as my wolf is growing accustomed to her scent.
“As soon as you’ll let me,” she says, with a note of pride in her voice.
I find myself thinking about the sort of mother she’ll make, always wanting to put the hard work in, doing whatever it takes, so our children are happy and excited about life.
She’s going to be incredible….
Except, what will we do if the beast wins out over the human?
Humans and shifters can mate, but there’s always a chance the children will inherit the shifter. It’ll come out in their teens, a piece of mayhem to contend with, so much worse than regular puberty.
Relax, I growl at myself.She’s just a young woman who wants a job. That’s all. She’d laugh if she knew what you were thinking.
“Today,” I say after a long pause.
I wonder what she thinks about me stopping to stare at her.
I wonder if she can tell how close I am.
She won’t know what I’m closeto, but surely she can see or sense something.
Surely she can tell there’s something not quite right with me.
“Really?” she smiles. “Okay, yes. Thank you. Please. I mean...I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I never expected this.”
My lips spread at the joy whooshing across her face.
It’s impossible not to smile – or my equivalent – when there’s so much happiness from inside her. I can scent it in the air, the change in her mood, as if more hope is sinking into her just-Ruby smell.
But thinking about her scent is dangerous.
It brings me close to the edge again.
It attacks the numbness with which I’ve shielded myself, the lie that I can just be a regular man having a regular conversation.
“Why don’t you give me your cell number?” I say. “I’ll text you the address.”
“You’re not going to be there?” she asks, eyebrow raised.
If I do, you better be ready to take everything I have to give. You better be ready to take me, Ruby, all of me. Your young body better be fucking ready.
I swallow, pushing away these words.
“I’ve got some stuff to do,” I say. “But Jerry should be there. He’s the manager. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”
“Okay,” she says, taking out her phone. “Thanks, Ramsey. Seriously. I mean that.”