They played for a while—pouncing, wrestling, rolling. Later, after lapping at the clean pond water, the pallas cat felt his human push for supremacy. The cat let out a disgruntled growl but didn’t fight. He pulled back, allowing his human half to surface.
Tate stared down at the devil as she licked at her paw. She might be a vicious little thing, but he thought she was cute as hell. Like all devil shifters, she was thick and squat, though more in proportion than full-blooded Tasmanian devils. She had a large head, long claws, a tail roughly half the length of her body, and forelegs which were a little longer than her hind legs. Her fur was pure black, but she had a single white patch on her chest that he wanted to stroke.
He didn’t dare touch her right then, though. Because as she locked her dark gaze with his, Tate could clearly sense what Havana had tried to tell him—the devil wasn’t ready for that yet. She was still reserving judgment for now.
“I’ll win back your trust,” he promised her.
The animal only sniffed. Then bones popped and snapped, and Havana stood before him.
“Your devil’s not going to make this easy for me, is she?”
Havana tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Would you expect any different?”
“No, I guess not.” He pulled her close and swept his hand down her back. “Stay with me tonight.”
She slid her hands up his chest. “I’ll expect you to make it worth my while.”
He smiled and stroked her ass. “If you mean you want me to fuck you to sleep, I can do that.”
“I really don’t think you could, actually. I mean, I never fall asleep straight after sex.”
“Hmm, I accept your challenge.”
He also won.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
While Tate played his fingers through her hair, Havana studied the dessert menu. She’d eaten at the pride-owned steakhouse with Aspen and Bailey a few times in the past—the food was good, especially the desserts. This was the first time that Tate had brought her here, though.
Over the past week, he’d taken her to various places—most of which were owned by his pride. One morning, he’d taken her for breakfast at the café. Another day, it had been lunch at the deli. Yesterday evening, he’d taken her to the ice cream parlor. They’d already made plans to go to the movie theater this weekend. It was as if he was intent on making a distinct effort to spend time with her outside of sex. Or maybe he saw it as making up for lost time, since they hadn’t gone on actual dates during their fling.
Now, well, he was doing a good job of slotting himself into her life and ensuring he was commandeering as many hours of her day as he could. She hadn’t really given much thought into what kind of mate Tate would be. If she’d had to guess, she would have said he’d be solid and steady and overprotective. Which he in fact was. But she wouldn’t have guessed he’d be so … attentive.
It was little but touching things. Like always filling her tank with gas. Like keeping her favorite brand of coffee at his house. Like buying things for her to use while she was there—a replica of her toothbrush, a satin robe, her favorite snacks, her brands of shampoo and conditioner.
He’d also emptied one of his drawers “just in case” she wanted to stash her clothes into it rather than leave them in her overnight bag. His expression had been all “no pressure.” So she’d used the drawer. And then he’d emptied another “just in case” she needed more room for her stuff. It was kind of cute that he thought she didn’t know he was trying to move her into his house little by little.
He’d formally introduced her as his mate to pretty much every pride mate they brushed past, seemingly wanting Havana to get to know them and feel comfortable around them. They all appeared to be happy for him, and none had been rude or unwelcoming toward her.
He was always firing questions at her—some big, some small. But even more, he freely shared with her now. There was no holding back at all. No rules. No hesitations. No boundaries.
He was almost always touching her. Which should have felt uncomfortable because she wasn’t all that tactile. But with him, it didn’t bother her. It just felt right.
They’d let their animals run together a few more times. Her devil had softened toward his cat. She was beginning to soften toward Tate, too, but she didn’t show it much—determined to make him work to prove himself worthy.
If he wasn’t too busy throughout the day, he sometimes appeared at the center to see Havana at random times. She knew he regularly checked in with Deke and Isaiah—she often heard them talking to him via cell phone. Gideon hadn’t struck again, but no one was getting complacent.
Aside from when she went to work, she never ventured far from home. She also never balked at Tate’s hyper-strict security measures. The harder she made it for Gideon to get to her, the more agitated he’d become, and the more likely he’d be to make a mistake.
Tate splayed his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “Have you decided what you want yet, babe?”
She hummed. “I’m gonna go with the pecan pie.”
Tate called over the waitress, who was one of his pride mates, and placed their orders.
Havana snapped the menu shut and slotted it back in its holder, accidentally jabbing him with her elbow. “Sorry. You know, you’d have more room if you sat on the other side of the table.”
“I like looking at you, but I also like touching you. I can do more of that when sitting next to you than I can when I sit opposite you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and then his lips were there, sipping from hers. “You taste better than anything here.”
“Dude, you don’t have to ply me with compliments—you’ll get laid later for sure.”
Tate chuckled, liking the back and forth they had. It felt easy. Comfortable. Intimate. “Good to know.” He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “If we weren’t in a restaurant full of shifters, I’d be stroking your pussy with my finger right now. But I don’t want them to know how you smell when you’re desperate to come.” He was far too possessive for that.
“Neither do I, so I appreciate your restraint.”
He rubbed her thigh again. “So … has Aspen and/or Bailey told you if they’ll join the pride, or are they still reluctant?” They’d asked to have a few days to think about it.
“I spoke with them about it again earlier. They said that if you and I mate, which will instantly make me a member of your pride, they’ll join—providing they’re allowed to continue working at the center.”
“No one would expect them to stop working there. And there’s no ‘if’ you and I mate. We will mate. It’s only a matter of time. Which is why there’s no reason you can’t just officially join the pride now.”
“Yes, you’ve made that clear before. On several occasions, in fact.”
Okay, yeah, he’d mentioned it a few times. Maybe more than a few. “Because it makes sense.”
She took his hand in hers. “I’m not going to rush any part of this relationship. You think your cat doesn’t have commitment issues after all. But you could be wrong. I don’t want to push any buttons for him. I don’t want to make him feel pressured or as if things are moving too fast.”