returned and placed three plates on their table. “Two beef pie specials. And a slice of rose lychee, compliments of the baker herself. Let me know when you want your dessert.”
“Thank you,” she said. “And please say thank you to Temperance too.”
“Will do.” Gabriel gave them a two-fingered salute as he dashed off to take another order.
The rest of the meal was spent eating in comfortable silence. Gabriel or Rosie stopped by to chat, refill their coffees, and serve them dessert. Krieger ate slowly, and whether consciously or not, soaked in every word and every movement she made. His mate really was gorgeous, even more than he remembered. Sure, she was looking a little thinner now, but that didn’t detract from her beautiful face, smooth rosy skin, and all that vibrant red hair. His cock twitched just thinking about the times he had those red locks wrapped around his fist, her under him, being inside her.
He cleared his throat. “Scuse me.” Before Dutchy could say anything, he stood up and strode to the men’s room. Calm down, he told himself.
His bear, however, roared at him impatiently. It wanted now, more than ever, to claim her and make her theirs.
“Not yet,” he said aloud as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Dutchy wasn’t ready. Her animal wasn’t ready. Despite her congenial appearance, he could tell that her fox was still angry at him. But he didn’t care; he was going to win her over. He’d wait forever if he had to.
After washing his hands, he went back to the booth. “Did you want anything else?”
“No, I’m pretty full.” She winced and scratched at her cast. “Sorry. I’m just … my shoulder gets tired easily. And I get tired easily.”
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
After grabbing their check and paying, he led her to the truck, then drove her back to Angela’s place.
“Wait,” he began as she reached for the door handle.
“You don’t have to walk me in,” she said. “I can make it.”
“It’s not that.” His mouth felt dry as a desert. “Dutchy … will you have dinner with me? Tomorrow?” He already had it planned in his mind. Giorgio’s, the Italian place on Main Street. She would have her dinner cooked by a professional chef and served by a waiter.
Her shoulders sank. “Krieger … this was nice. It was good of you to take me out of the house and bring me to see Rosie. But, I’m not ready for a … date.”
The hope that had built up in him during the last two days suddenly deflated. “I see.” His gut twisted, and he wanted to lash out. But his bear beat him—it clawed at him, urging him to not give up. Not on their mate. “I understand.”
She gave him a curt nod. “Thank you.”
He watched her hop out of the truck and scamper to the front door, frozen in place, chest aching like a giant fist wrapped around his torso. Why did it seem like instead of taking a step forward, he was actually jumping two back? Was all this work the last three weeks, giving her space and time, all for nothing?
Setting his jaw, he gripped the wheel tighter. No, he wasn’t going to give up now. He would never give up on her. She was his mate; they were fated to be together.
His training in the Special Forces taught him to follow a plan through. But in the field, you had to be flexible to survive. So that’s what he was going to do. Change tactics, but keep his eye on the prize.
Chapter Twelve
What the heck did I do to pass time these last months? Dutchy sighed for the hundredth time as she put her book down on her lap. She’d been reading the same paragraph for twenty minutes now. Not even the latest title from her favorite Regency romance author was enough to keep her attention.
I guess I’ll have to wait and see if Nicola ends up with her duke. Tossing the book aside, she got up from the couch, stretched out her right arm, and walked into the kitchen to make herself some tea. Thank goodness she’d healed enough to take off the sling, but she still had to keep the cast on for another week or two.
After putting the kettle on, she sat at the table, staring at her empty mug. Her brain—and her fox—was telling her that turning Krieger down was the right decision. Did he really think he could just