him from lying in his bed. He wanted to rub all over her. Henry took a deep breath. “I like you. A lot.”
“I guessed that,” she said, a hint of a tiny smile peeking out.
He snorted. “Did you? What tipped you off?”
The smile spread and warmed every inch of his chest. God, he loved seeing her smile.
Ophelia set aside the knitting needles and folded her hands over her middle like a prim and proper schoolmarm. “It might have been at the restaurant, when you practically licked barbecue sauce off my face.”
Henry laughed, though he kept his voice low so he wouldn’t wake up the rest of the house. That was the last thing he needed. He squeezed her foot and rubbed her calf, wanting to encourage the teasing. It was the first time she’d seemed really relaxed around him. “It had to have been before that.”
“Well...” Her cheeks burned red. “It might have been when you stood there naked right next to me and practically climbed in my lap, after the... well, the second time I zapped you. On the porch, here.”
He grinned, feeling absolutely no remorse at all. “That might have been about when.”
She made a thoughtful, husky sound in her throat, and sank a little lower under the covers so his hand moved nearer her knee. Henry’s heart beat faster and he paused, then kept up the stroking since she made no objection. God help him, she was hell on his self-control. Ophelia watched him watch her, and a shadow crossed her expression. “Can we talk about something?”
He braced for a metaphorical kick in the nuts, but didn’t do more than nod. “Anything.”
“Am I your mate?”
He jerked in surprise, blinking, and found her meeting his gaze fearlessly. Something had changed—her confidence was back. It was like seeing the young woman from the bank, arguing with a dangerous mystery fae, but sitting in his bed. The wolf took notice, practically howling with the need to kiss her, to touch more of her than just her leg.
But the silence stretched and there was only one answer he could give her. “Yes.”
Ophelia nodded, as if she’d expected it, and took a deep breath. “I don’t really know what that means.”
“Neither do I,” Henry said slowly. “Seeing as I’ve never had one before. But I’d like to figure it out with you.”
He wondered what had transpired while he’d been out on patrol, what happened that made Ophelia ready to have a very upfront conversation about very personal things. Henry hadn’t expected it, but he loved every moment.
The witch still watched him, curious but a little wary. “What does that mean? You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
He hesitated. He’d agreed to go back to Montana, it was true enough. And Henry had no doubt that Nola would hold him to that, no matter what happened. “For a little while. I agreed to go back for three months to help the old pack.”
She nodded, head tilted, and waited.
His mouth went dry as cotton, and Henry felt as nervous as when he asked a girl out on a date for the first time. “You could…go with me. If you want. I would like that.”
“I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” she said slowly. “There’s a lot I have to work on with Deirdre, and she thinks there’s a way to fix my magic, and—”
“There is?” Henry sat up in excitement, scooting closer so he could catch her hands. “Why didn’t you start with that? What is it? What do you need to do?”
Ophelia laughed but didn’t pull away, and she sounded a little breathless as she looked at him from just a foot away. “It’s something with how I learned magic. I have some bad habits to unlearn, but she thinks there’s hope.”
“That’s fantastic,” he said, and abruptly reached for her. He couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t just that he was proud of her for figuring out what she needed to work on, it was that he’d claimed her as his mate and she hadn’t run screaming out the door. He’d celebrate every victory he could find. Henry pulled her tight to his chest, wrapping his arms around her, and breathed in her scent. “I’m proud of you. That’s huge.”
She laughed, though there was a hitch in her breathing. “Proud that I figured out why I’m all screwed up?”
“You’re not screwed up,” he murmured, adjusting how he held her so he could rub her back. God, he loved having her close. He’d sit there