“Sorry,” I mutter. “Just nervous.”
“Seriously, you don’t have to be,” she laughs. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what a jackpot you are in the eyes of Moira Carter. You actually could belong to some secret underground alpha biker gang, and she would tell you she thinks it’s absolutely delightful.”
“It seems like your grandmother is more concerned with you settling down in general rather than having any real preferences as to who you might do it with.”
Mackenzie is still smiling despite my concern. “It’s not like that, exactly. I think she worries about leaving me on my own. I was kind of a mess when I came to them—I mean, just your average preteen hormonal depression that made me into a bit of a mute for a few months, but . . . I don’t know. Even now that I’m an adult, she never stops worrying about me.”
“She wants to make sure you’re taken care of,” I muse.
“Mhm.” Mackenzie makes an amused sound. “Hasn’t quite come around to the novel idea that I can take care of myself.”
“If anyone could,” I murmur to no one.
I don’t see her smile, but I can feel it, I think.
“Good thing I’m bringing home a nice alpha to make sure my den is good and protected so that I can give him pretty babies while he gathers food.”
“Your gran’s ideal ending, I presume.”
“Yeah. Whatever. I know she means well.”
“I’ll be sure to convince her that you will have a very nice den. Only the finest chicken carcasses for my mate.”
Mackenzie barks out a laugh. “Oh my God. You made a joke! Was that your first one? Are you hurt in any way?”
“Always a delight, you are.”
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just kind of fun.”
I perk up as I make the next turn. “What is?”
“Seeing this side of Dr. Taylor.”
“Oh.” There’s an odd prickling in my chest, but that could just be her scent, which is still threatening to suffocate me. “Well. I’ve been practicing how not to be so, um . . .”
“Tense? Scary?”
“Sure,” I concur with a roll of my eyes. “For your grandmother.”
Mackenzie sits up in her seat, peering out the window as she gestures to the next house. “Well, let’s hope it paid off. That’s the place.”
I slow the car so I don’t miss the driveway, taking in the perfectly normal-looking ranch-style house in red brick. It probably shouldn’t be as formidable as it feels.
“Oh shit,” Mackenzie says.
Her mouth turns down into a frown, and there’s an uneasiness to her now as she regards me carefully. I catch her pressing her nose to her shoulder, and then her eyes meet mine with concern. “It’s faded.”
I can’t even pretend not to immediately catch her meaning. I noticed when she first climbed into the car, after all. I swallow heavily. “I know.”
I can tell she’s remembering the last time I scented her; her lips roll together and her lashes flutter, and even this is enough to make breathing a little harder.
“You should probably do the thing,” she says airily.
“The thing,” I parrot.
“You know . . .” Her nose wrinkles as she reaches to unbuckle her seat belt. “The thing.”
Something flushes under my collar, some prickling heat creeping into my chest as my throat tightens. It’s becoming a familiar sensation, this odd warmth that plagues me whenever I scent her—becoming more and more of a problem the longer I’m off suppressants. I can’t remember a single time in my life when it was this uncomfortable to be around a woman of my species.
“Right,” I manage tightly. “The thing.” I swallow, eyes glancing to the driveway. “Should I just . . . ?”
“I can—” She moves awkwardly in the passenger seat, bringing her legs up and under her so she can lean over the console. “Like this?”
Like this only brings her closer, my tongue feeling too thick with the way the sweet fragrance of her invades my senses. “Right. That should—” I reach to unbuckle myself. “Just . . . be still.”
I’m not sure if I’m telling her this for her benefit or mine, honestly.
I cup my hand around the back of her neck, noting again how soft her hair is. It slides over my knuckles silkily as my palm settles just below her hairline, pulling her closer. I have to close my eyes for this part, silently chanting a mantra about how this is just a means to an end—none of it actually helping the way my skin tingles when I tuck my face against her neck.