Chapter Twelve

I rolled over in a comfortable bed and, for a few seconds, forgot where I was. Hotels and motels didn’t have plush mattresses, well, not the accommodations I could afford. And I certainly wasn’t in my truck.

Where…oh.

The sun now shone on my face. I opened my eyes but pouted seeing that Maxwell was gone. I didn’t hear him either. My body was deliciously sore in all the right places. I stretched, taking inventory as the memories from the night before flooded my mind. Maxwell had been so tender and sweet. He paid attention to my cues and the eye contact. Gods, seeing him above me, those brown eyes boring into my soul while he stroked inside me—it was more than sex.

Better than any sex I’d ever had, and it had been quite a while for me.

The entire long journey I’d promised myself to stay away from the temptation of having random sex with random people or any sex with any people for that matter. It didn’t sound like a good time to me, and my bobcat craved something real—something deep and meaningful—aka, mating, not fucking.

My wait had been well rewarded and yet, the twinge of regret soured it all. I ignored it the best I could.

“Max?” I called out even though I couldn’t hear any clues that he was still here. His scent lingered in the air around me and clung to my skin. No answer.

While last night had been a fantasy come true, we hadn’t marked each other, and there was no mention of it either.

I sat on the side of his huge bed, legs dangling, when reality came crashing down on top of me. We had mated. I’d given myself to him in ways I promised myself I wouldn’t. I was on a journey to explore this world and myself in the process, not to settle down with the first alpha who looked my way.

I gripped the garish but cozy quilt that now hung mostly off the bed.

I’d ruined the plan.

“He’s not just any alpha,” I whispered to myself as I slipped from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. His en suite was bigger than the guest bath, obviously, but as I turned on the water, I saw two showerheads and a bench seat on either side. Maxwell had mentioned he had this house remodeled. Gods, he’d planned this bedroom and bathroom with a mate in mind. Not a mate like me, whose skin already tingled with the desire to move on, but a mate who would set up a den and make his house their home.

My bobcat snarled loudly in my head, scratching at the invisible barrier between us, begging me to fix my human thoughts to his.

Mate. Ours. Den. Mating. Cubs. Bear is mine.

Could I do this? Live here with my alpha? Set down roots? Make plans. Have a home—stay in one place?

I didn’t have the answer to those questions yet.

After a long shower, I got dressed and finally decided to at least stay the day. Maxwell deserved someone to stick around for a bit.

Maybe a few days.

A week, tops.

Wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, I padded barefoot into the kitchen and looked around, hoping that Max had appeared while I showered. No such luck.

But there was a note on the table. My heart fluttered seeing his name signed at the bottom with a heart. Holding the note down was a tiny vase with one daisy inside it. Plucked from his garden.

Whenever you are ready, come to the coffee shop and have some breakfast with me. I had to duck out early to open the shop.

P.S. Last night was perfect.

The postscript squeezed my heart. I would have to handle Maxwell gently. Make my way from Oliver Creek in a way that didn’t shatter his heart. He deserved better than someone who left without the proper goodbyes.

He deserved the world.

My stomach growled, letting me know that coffee and a pastry wouldn’t quite cover my hunger. I put on some shoes and found the diner where I ordered two large breakfast sandwiches and pancakes, since I didn’t know what he liked, and brought them into the coffee shop. His eyes widened when I came in and, though I had steeled myself from getting too deep with Maxwell, I found myself winking and kissing him on the cheek before bringing the food to the back.

This would be the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.