Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,17
hate doing interviews. Wait! You watched interviews of me?”
Her cheeks heated again and she dropped her gaze, busied herself with pulling the blanket even tighter around her. “Um, I wanted to see what kind of person you were before I drove out here to meet you. I was curious about you. Not just because you were a bull shifter either. I mean…I was curious about what kind of man you were. I was scared you would see me in your VIP line and think I was just…I dunno…silly.”
His smile slipped a little, and his green eyes churned with honesty. “I don’t think you’re silly at all. What did you learn from the interviews?”
“I learned that you’re funny, and you don’t care about impressing people. I liked that part. You’re confident. The only time I saw you get serious was when an interviewer asked one of your herd a question they didn’t like. You got protective of them. The humor would fade away from you face, and you would look…”
“Look what?” he asked softly.
“Terrifying.”
“What else did you learn?” he asked low.
“I have a silly present.”
His eyes went wide with shock. “You got me something?”
“It’s nothing big. I was going to give it to you when I got to the front of your line, but I ended up working at your table instead and forgot it.” She threw off the blanket and scrambled for her little purse she’d left by the door. The package of candy took up most of the space in the little satchel.
Raven took a deep breath before she turned around because she was nervous. Why? She had no idea.
“Happy one-night anniversary,” she teased as she handed him the candy.
“Skittles?” he asked, taking the present from her.
“I saw you eating them in an interview once so I knew you liked them. But you were putting all the yellow ones back in the package so I know you don’t like the yellows. I’ll eat those if you don’t want them.”
He was staring down at the palm of his hand where the red Skittles package laid. “I take out the yellow ones for Cheyenne. They’re her favorite color.” He looked up at her and asked, “What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Red.”
“Mine, too.”
She grinned big and sat back on the couch. Raven didn’t know why, but she really liked that they enjoyed the same flavor. “Red ones taste the best.”
“I got you a present, too,” he blurted out. “But it was before I met you, so I didn’t know what you liked.”
Raven didn’t understand, so she shook her head and said, “Wild boy, what did you get?”
“The girlfriend starter pack.”
She brayed a laugh. “Okay, I want to see what’s in it.”
He stood and shoved the Skittles in his back pocket. As he passed her on the couch, he paused and leaned down, squeezed her knee and murmured, “Thank you. I don’t remember the last time I got a present.” And then he jogged up a set of narrow three stairs and into the bedroom, then reappeared a few seconds later with a cardboard box in his hands. He set it beside her on the couch and then took his seat again in the recliner.
She opened the lid flaps and immediately laughed. There was a half-empty bottle of hair-growth vitamins, a box of tampons, and a box of pads. “In case a girl needs to grow long hair or spontaneously starts her period?” she asked.
“Yep. I ate half those vitamins. They work, but the labeling freaked me out. It says for women, and I got scared I would grow titties or something, so I just added it to the starter pack. Those things are expensive, and I don’t like to waste stuff. Periods are terrifying, but the list said sometimes you have them and you can’t help what’s happening to your bodies and that a woman would appreciate some understanding. Now…I don’t understand none of that body business because y’all are as complicated as a spiderweb, but if you ever feel the need to talk about, educate me, or inform me about your periods, I will do my best to listen and not yawn or turn on music in the middle of that conversation. Now, look at the stuff underneath.”
There was a gallon-sized Ziplock bag of chocolate bars. “Period snacks?” she guessed.
“Yup.”
Under that were neatly folded light-blue sheets and a pillowcase.
“Chicks like clean sheets,” he explained.
Touché to that, because she was in fact a chick, and she also in fact liked clean sheets.
Next was a