Joel had never had such a good time with anyone.
Zach wasn’t naturally a risk-taker. He’d run around and play-pounce and wrestle and all of that, but he refused to compete for who could jump the farthest from one rock to another, or climb trees until they threatened to crack until his weight. He was always cautious, always conservative.
Joel, on the other hand, just wanted to break free, do the most and the farthest and the hardest his leopard body could manage.
And Nina was exactly the same.
Her body was honed like the blade of a knife. She was sleekly muscled, graceful, and packed as much power into every ounce as she possibly could. And she was utterly fearless.
She was just like Joel, in a way. Back in town, he’d recognized that innate wariness around people. She was afraid of what could happen if she told someone her secrets. She didn’t like to get too close to someone, because she knew that things could go wrong.
But once she was alone, in the wilderness, she lost that layer of fear like she was taking off a heavy coat and throwing it away.
They spent hours running around the forest, then up in the mountains, racing each other, leaping from rock to rock, playing hide-and-seek—which was especially difficult in snow leopard form, since the leopard coloring blended perfectly into the rocks. Since it was nighttime and all they had was the moonlight, if they stayed still, they were almost invisible.
Eventually they exhausted themselves, and Joel could feel it getting later and later. He didn’t want the evening to end, though; every part of him protested at letting Nina go off to...wherever she’d been staying. He was afraid that if he let her out of his sight, he might never see her again.
So when he finally shifted back to human, and she followed suit, he turned to her. And stopped for a second, because he’d forgotten, somehow, how beautiful she was. Her curly black hair, her wide grey-green eyes, her full lips, her generous curves...
He’d been about to say something. Right. “Do you want to come see the cabin I’ve been fixing up?” he asked her.
She hesitated. Joel wanted to reassure her—don’t worry, it’s not a line, I actually just want to show you my cabin—but he stayed quiet and waited. He didn’t want to put on pressure that she didn’t need.
“All right,” she said finally. “Yes. Show me your cabin.”
Joel bit down on his smile, keeping it small. “It’s this way.”
They shifted again to head down the mountain, but this time they just moved at a walk. It was surprisingly nice, having someone alongside him as he made his way through the woods. Joel was used to doing this alone, and had always thought that that was best: he felt like part of the environment when he was alone. His eyes, ears, and nose were focused only on the natural world around him, and no one was distracting him.
But having Nina by his side didn’t take away from the experience of nature. She was at home out here, at least as much as Joel was. Her paws didn’t make a sound, and her ears twitched at the slightest indication of some other life scurrying or flapping around the night.
And knowing she was there...it gave him a sense of security, somehow. Of solidarity. It wasn’t just Joel facing the wilds on his own, it was the two of them together, watching each other’s backs.
Joel wanted Nina to stay in Glacier. He wanted her to be out here with him every day, just like this.
He was determined that Cal would be all right with it. And if he said no, well, Joel had never sworn any loyalty oaths or anything medieval like that. He was going to make sure Nina had somewhere safe and secure to be no matter what happened.
Maybe he should tell her that. Although, speaking of medieval, he’d probably sound like some kind of overbearing jerk, insisting that he could control what happened to her.
He’d wait. He’d talk to Cal, and see what happened. And no matter what, he’d make sure Nina was all right.
They came over the shallow ridge that hid the cabin from view, and Joel paused, struck with a sudden and strange apprehension. He wanted Nina to appreciate the cabin as much as he did. He wanted her to understand what it meant to him. And he was oddly nervous that she wouldn’t.
Well, he’d never find out if he hesitated at the top of the ridge forever. He started downward at a trot, and Nina followed him. When he reached the cabin’s front door, he shifted, and she followed suit. She came back into human form already looking up at the compact wooden building.
The cabin was almost two stories; there was a lofted area that old Mr. Walton had used for storage, but where Joel planned to put a bed, once he had all the repairs finished. It was made of good western red cedar, both beautiful and sturdy. And local, which made repairs easier.
Overall, it was a solid, snug, decent-sized cabin, nothing fancy or extra-special, but perfect for Joel’s needs. He watched Nina’s face as she studied it.
She looked at the building, lit by the nearly-full moonlight, then around at the mountain forest surrounding it, then at the building again.
“This would be a nice place to live,” she said finally.
Something warm rose in Joel’s chest. “Want to see inside?”
She nodded, looking up at him with a ghost of a smile. He smiled back, stupidly happy that she liked it, and unlocked the door and ushered her inside.
The inside was more in need of repairs. Joel had had to get rid of several different species of small animal that