"You could say that."
He reached up to rub the back of his neck, and it was a nervous gesture . . . from a man who didn't seem to know the meaning of the word. "You confuse me, Mercy." Not said as an excuse, but as a frank truth. "I don't know what I'm doing around you half the time."
"New experience?" she asked, leaning against a tree opposite him.
"A little." Dropping the hand from his neck, he shoved both hands into his pockets. "Actually, a lot."
"Big brother and lieutenant," she said. "Both positions that require you to lead."
"It comes naturally."
But it had been honed by his position in his family, in the pack. "Ever tried letting go of the reins?"
"No."
There it was again, that blunt honesty that hit her in the gut every time. "Never?"
"Not that I can remember." A drawing in of breath that sounded painful. "Hawke's sometimes been able to push me back - like when I wanted to rip Judd to pieces after he and Brenna first got involved, but I've never submitted in my life." A pause. "Is that what you want?"
Chapter 37
"What?" She blinked. "Submission? From you?" The idea was so extraordinary her mouth fell open. "What do you think?"
"That's just it - I don't know." It sounded like he was having teeth pulled.
"Knock it off, Riley." His discomfort was cute, but that's not what she wanted from him. "You know the answer."
That made the wolf bare its teeth. Mercy could feel the aggression in the air, though Riley was doing an impressive - and irritating - job of keeping it locked behind bars of steel.
"I think you'd chew up," he said, "and spit out a submissive. And I think you're smart enough to know that that wouldn't make you happy."
"That makes me smarter than you." It was the cat clawing at him, still pissed at the way he'd attempted to turn her into something she wasn't. She waited for him to come back with a justification that she had every intention of shredding into a million pieces.
"Yes," he said, poking a big fat hole in her balloon of indignation. "But no one ever called me stupid - just thickheaded."
She raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn't punched the air right out of her.
"Maybe," he said, dropping his hands to his sides and moving closer, "I realized my mistake."
"Did you, now?" She shook her head. "Stop right there, wolfie."
He actually obeyed. Hmm, the leopard thought, perhaps they might forgive him after all. But it wasn't yet a fait ac compli. "And what," she asked, "did you realize?"
He folded his arms.
"Body language," she pointed out with a - just slightly - gleeful smile.
"You're not making this easier." He kept the arms folded.
Stubborn wolf. "If I did, I wouldn't be me."
"Yeah." A slight smile curved his lips as he dropped those arms.
And for now, for the cat in her, it was enough. She had no desire to humble him - this, what he'd said, what he'd done, it was a big step. "So, you leaving now that you've done a half-assed job of an apology?" It was very deliberate provocation.
"Invite me in and I'll give you a massage." It was a playful offer from a man who, she was learning, rarely played. "I'll attempt to turn half-assed into full."
"I got that last time." She put the towel around her neck and swung around to walk to the cabin. "What else you got?"