by Zoe Chant
He definitely did. Groceries. Cleaning. Cooking. More cleaning. “Oh yeah. Busy day.”
When he closed the mayor’s office door behind him and saw the hallway was empty, his heart sank. He knew Madison had better things to do than wait around here, but it was still disappointing.
He walked past Rosemary, nodding at her in greeting before leaving. When he got outside, his hawk’s desire to take to the skies and find Madison only increased. He had to get his hawk’s single-minded attention onto something more useful.
We need to prepare our nest. We need to prepare food for our mate. Maybe that would help.
Mice! Snakes! We must hunt down a nice big mole for her!
Simon ignored his hawk’s suggestions in favor of the grocery store.
✽✽✽
Madison called him later that afternoon, both to apologize for leaving and to discuss plans for that evening. They’d ended up talking for nearly half an hour, and the only reason Simon hung up was because he really had to get started on dinner. His mind kept drifting to what she was doing out in the woods while he cooked and cleaned up around the house. By the time it was six o’clock, he was happy to have a lasagna in the oven at all, and a kitchen that looked acceptably clean. He eyed his kitchen counter critically, then shrugged it off.
She’d cooked for him last night on a camping stove and it had been the best dinner of his life. Tonight was going to be great. They’d talk some more about her research and their plan, and that seeing each other a lot was crucial.
He had to remember that asking her to move in with him immediately would be weird. She was human and had just found out shifters existed. He couldn’t rush her into anything. Maybe, if things went well tonight, he could tell her they were fated mates.
The doorbell rang before he could think about how to tell her, and he ran over to the door to let her in.
“Hi, come in, I hope you…” His brain gave out at the sight of her in a figure-hugging sky blue dress under the same bulky coat he’d borrowed last night. Her practical, baggy clothes had only hinted at her curves. “Hi.”
“You already said that.” Her cheeks were flushed as she smiled up at him. She’d pulled back her hair in a neater version of the ponytail she’d worn that afternoon.
He gestured for her to enter, smiling when he saw she was still wearing the hiking boots. His eyes trailed up her legs, and he re-considered dinner plans. Offering her a tour of the house was normal, right? And maybe that tour could include his bedroom…
No, dinner first.
“How were things with the mayor?” She shrugged off her coat. “Was she annoyed with you for telling me about shifters?”
He took her coat, noting the flash of anger in her eyes. How hadn’t he noticed her protective streak?
“No, just a few minor things.” He hung up her coat. “I have to check on the lasagna.” He headed down the hallway and back to his oven. It smelled good, but it needed a few more minutes.
Madison followed him, having taken off her hiking boots to walk around in thick socks. “And?”
“So far, so good.” He pulled open a kitchen cabinet. “Can I get you anything? Water? Wine? Tea? Orange juice?”
“A water’s fine.” She sat down at the set table, a soft smile on her face. “Candles?”
“Of course. But those candles are actually for dessert.” He grinned. “Our s’more experiment.”
She laughed at that, just as he’d hoped. “You won’t convince me they’re better with dark chocolate.”
“We’ll see.” He finished preparing the salad after pouring her a glass of water. She’d said she liked pretty much everything when it came to food, and he hoped that was true. She looked happy and relaxed, and he couldn’t wait for this to become normal. The two of them, in the kitchen, after a long day of work or a fun weekend.
When he carefully put the lasagna on the table, her eyes widened as she leaned closer. “That smells great!”
“Tastes even better.”
She laughed. “I’ll be the judge of that. Go on.” She offered him her plate.
It was very satisfying to take care of his mate like this, and it was even better when she audibly enjoyed the food he’d made.
A mole would’ve been better.
The conversation between them flowed as easily as it had last night, and she looked right at home here.
He never wanted her to leave.
Which meant telling her about fated mates…
Where on Earth was he supposed to start?
6. Madison
She’d felt a little ridiculous when she’d knocked on Simon’s door. A beautiful dress paired with hiking boots? But when he opened the door, she was sure he’d never even noticed those boots, or the hiking socks she still wore.
His house was wonderful, and the kitchen looked out at the backyard where the sun was setting, casting the sky in a warm, orange glow. It was perfect.
And the meal was delicious. She’d half-expected him to buy a frozen meal from the store and pop that in the oven, but it was obvious at first bite that he’d cooked this himself.
A hot guy with a great house, who could cook, and looked at her like she was dessert? That did not happen to her.
And yet the evidence was undeniable.
She caught him looking away now and then, or a worried frown on his face before smiling and asking if she wanted more water or something else.
She took a sip of wine. First she thought he was nervous about her liking the meal, but even after several compliments, Simon remained on edge.
There were plenty of things for him to worry about. How everyone would take her presence here, for one.
“Do you think any of your neighbors worry that I’m gonna do some evil experiment on you?” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
He laughed. “Maybe! Little do they know I’m the one who prepared an experiment instead.”
The tension in his face eased. Maybe he was just nervous about the date? “Well, good research means you have to repeat experiments to double-check that you’re right.” And she was definitely willing to eat s’mores for science.
“We can double-check as much as you like.” He gestured at the graham crackers and bag of marshmallows on the counter. But then the easy smile on his face faded as he turned to her again. “Although… sometimes you don’t need to double-check to know you’re right about something.” He glanced at her, then looked down at his empty plate.
She didn’t know what he was getting at. “Like a strong hunch?”
He sipped his wine, still holding the glass after he put it down. “Something stronger than a hunch. Much stronger.”
“Okay, like what?” Whatever it was, it was what made him so nervous. She wanted to reassure him, but couldn’t if she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Like… when you look at someone and you just know.” His eyes met hers, and he looked both scared and hopeful.
If he was talking about love at first sight, her brain scoffed at the idea as her heart melted. “Know what?” she managed, meeting his intense gaze.
“That you’re destined to be together forever.”
Her breath caught. Part of her wanted to insist it wasn’t possible. But he looked so sincere and a few days ago she’d have insisted people couldn’t turn into birds. “Is that something you can know just from looking at someone?” Or was believing in that setting yourself up for disappointment?
“Some people can. If you have excellent sight.” He looked at her expectantly. “Which shifters have, and not just while we’re shifted.”
Hawks were known for their extraordinary sight. “You’re saying that you…” She felt silly even saying it. The idea that destiny and love at first sight were real sounded ridiculous. But she’d become a scientist to discover how things worked. Maybe love at first sight could be one of those things. “That you looked at me and knew we were meant to be?”
“We call it fated mates.” He took a sip of wine.
“I did it by looking. It depends which of your senses is best. You look or hear or smell each other. And you know.”
He talked as if this happened to people every day. “And it never goes wrong?”
“Of course not.” He sounded shocked by the suggestion. “You’re together for life. There for each other, through thick and thin. You can’t leave your fated mate.”
Which explained a lot about how happy he’d been to hang out with her last night.
And why she’d been thinking about him all day.
“So does it work both ways?” she asked. “Because when I look at you, I don’t think ‘yep, that’s my fated mate’.”
He leaned closer. “True, but you’re probably thinking plenty of other things.” His smile turned suggestive. “Things you might not always immediately think about men you’ve just met?”
Her cheeks reddened and she finished her wine. It didn’t help with feeling flustered. “No comment.”
“Hm-mm.” He reached out to take her hand. Heat shot right through her. “But I’m right. I know you don’t know it like I do, but there’s a part of you that does.”
There was definitely a part of her that knew how hot and attractive Simon was. But that was not the part that determined whether she had a future with someone. That took more than immediate physical attraction. “We just met.”
He smiled, his dark eyes warm as he looked at her. His thumb ran across the back of her hand. That simple touch sent a shiver down her spine. “True.”
She wished she could feel as certain as he did, but she didn’t have his shifter senses. “I don’t—I can’t. Not like you,” she said at last. “I mean, yes, I’m attracted to you, but that doesn’t prove anything, and anyway, what if you snore or I have habits you find annoying? You don’t even know me!”
“That’s true,” he admitted. “We barely know each other, and we probably have annoying habits. But we can deal with them. Being fated mates doesn’t mean you’re happy with each other all the time. It means that when it gets difficult, you get through it together. You fight for each other.”
Now that she could get behind. “So what happens? When people find their fated mates?”
His smile turned suggestive again. “I think you can guess… but does that mean you believe me?”
She was silent, thinking it over. Did she believe him? She believed in her own feelings, and her attraction to him was undeniable. But that wasn’t evidence they were meant to be together forever. “I don’t know.” She hoped he wasn’t disappointed. “I like you, and I want to spend more time with you. But I can’t jump to conclusions about us being fated mates. I don’t have proof for it. Not like you have.”
He hummed at that. “You’re right.” He squeezed her hand, then got up to get the graham crackers, chocolate bars, and the bag of marshmallows. “It’s a lot to ask.”
She smiled, relieved he didn’t mind, and glad to get started on dessert. “All good research takes time.”
He opened the bag of marshmallows and popped one in his mouth. “You can take all the time you need.” He stuck a marshmallow on a barbecue skewer and held it over a candle. “I’m not going anywhere. But if there’s anything I can do to convince you…”
She had a pretty good idea of how he wanted to convince her, judging by his smirk. She grabbed the graham crackers before skewering her own marshmallow. “We’ll need to do some experiments.” She licked her lips. “Maybe several times to be sure.”
His dark eyes met hers. “We can experiment as much as you like.”
Heat flared inside her. “As soon as I like?”
He kissed her, and she dropped her skewer.
Dessert could wait.
✽✽✽
She woke up feeling more relaxed and well-rested than she had in a long time. It took her a second to realize why she didn’t recognize the wallpaper. When she turned around in bed, intending to greet Simon, the other side of the bed was empty, covers pushed aside as if he’d left in a hurry.
She sat up, yawning and wondering if she should go downstairs to check if everything was all right. Her clothes were lying on the floor, so she could put them back on.
But the bed was warm, cozy and inviting, and it had been so long since she’d let herself sleep in. The PhD students wouldn’t arrive at the campsite until the afternoon.
She remembered the schedule she’d made and all the preparations she’d planned for this morning to make sure everything was ready.
The spike of adrenaline and stress didn’t follow. Not as strong as it usually did when she wasn’t following her well-crafted plans.
Her eyes turned to the empty half of the bed again. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible Simon had gotten up already. Now she had time to think about what he’d told her last night.
Fated mates.
She didn’t dare let herself believe it, but she didn’t reject it out of hand either. She wouldn’t have believed Simon could turn into a hawk if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, but this was much more difficult to prove.
Heat bloomed inside her at the memory of Simon doing his very best to prove it last night. Repeatedly.
Maybe she could get more evidence before leaving for her campsite…
The rich scent of delicious coffee drifted into the room, along with Simon muttering to himself as he climbed the stairs. “Don’t spill, don’t spill.” He entered the bedroom with his eyes on the tray. “Oh, you’re awake!”
“Definitely.” Her eyes wandered down Simon’s chest and biceps. His sweatpants wouldn’t be staying on for long.
“I didn’t know if you took anything in your coffee.” He carefully put down one steaming mug on the nightstand next to her. “We never got round to that last night.”
“We were busy.” She took the mug, blowing on it. “I drink it black, thanks.”
He carried the tray with the remaining mug to his own side of the bed. After putting the tray down, he settled next to her. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Breakfast, hopefully.” But she knew what he meant. “I’ll have to get back my tent at some point today.”
“At some point?” He smiled as he sipped his coffee. “But not immediately?”
“No. I haven’t put up any nets, so I won’t need to free any trapped birds.” Yesterday she’d wanted to talk to the mayor first, and the rest of the afternoon and evening she’d been busy. Before leaving for dinner, she had emailed the mayor her schedule for today. She wanted Mayor McFadden to know she and her team were reliable partners. “But I still have to get things in order for when the students arrive. It’ll be a preparation day for them as well, and we’ll go over bird-handling.”
He snorted into his coffee, then smirked. “Well, you are very good at that.”
She flushed at the unintended meaning. “I’m glad you think so.”
He leaned down carefully to kiss her hair. “When will they get here?”
“Early afternoon, depending on traffic.”
He put his mug down on his nightstand, then snuggled closer under the covers and wrapped one arm around her. “So what you’re saying is that you’ve got a few more hours?” He kissed her shoulder.
“Yes, but including breakfast.” She put her own mug aside, pressing against him for another kiss.
“I’ll make you breakfast.” He kissed her cheek, then moved down to her neck. “And lunch, and dinner, and snacks.”
She laughed. “Mm, I should build up an appetite, then.”
He smiled against her skin. “I think I can help with that.”
✽✽✽
Breakfast consisted of Simon making scrambled eggs and toast, and insisting she sit down and enjoy her second cup of coffee.
“I could make toast at least?” She never sat down for long during breakfast. She made her coffee while mixing cereal with yogurt, then alternated between eating cereal and drinking coffee while scrolling through emails on her phone and answering the easy ones.
He gestured at his to
aster. “The bread’s already in there. But you can watch for smoke, if you like.”
“Is it likely to produce smoke?”
“Nope.” He added more cheese to the eggs. “But there’s always a first time.”
She sipped her coffee, feeling restless. Surely there was something she could do? But by the time she’d taken a quick shower, gotten dressed, and gone downstairs, Simon had already been busy with breakfast. And he’d set the table.
When was the last time she had breakfast at a set table? A rushed one at a conference, probably.
“Here we go.” He slid half the scrambled eggs onto her plate before putting the rest on his own. When he put the pan in the sink, the toaster beeped twice and two slices popped out. “Perfect timing!”
She wasn’t surprised she got both of them. “You like feeding me, don’t you?”
He frowned as he sat down after putting more bread in the toaster. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had someone to feed,” he mused. “And because it’s you.”
Her stomach fluttered, although her head remained skeptical. “Is that what bird shifters do? They feed their mate?” she teased.
“Yes.” He gathered some of his scrambled eggs on his fork, then offered to her.
She leaned forward to eat. “Does it bother you that I’m not sure about it?” If he resented her, she didn’t think she could take it.
He was silent for a long moment. “Kind of. I wish you could feel how I feel, because it’s amazing.” He smiled at her. “But be honest. You’re feeling something amazing too.”
She did. Something amazing she’d never felt before, not with previous boyfriends or men she’d dated years ago, before her life got taken over by research and the constant need to prove herself in order to get to the next step in her career.