If she chose them, there was no limit to what they could be together. What he would do to make her happy.
If.
The sound of footsteps and her scent yanked him out of his thoughts and had him turning swiftly to set the cactus down on his desk and rub a hand over his jaw. She was here. Stax had promised she would be when he’d told them to wait.
“Look who I found on my way to drag you from your sanctuary,” Davide said as he opened the office door, revealing an uncertain Bailey beside him.
“Come in.”
“She asked if something had changed.” Davide stared pointedly at him over her shoulder. “Because her thoughts are her own and we aren’t tearing each other’s clothes off in a bacchanalian frenzy.”
“Not exactly what I said,” Bailey muttered, still not looking at him. “And I think I was at least partially responsible for the shutdown.”
“You were,” Cam assured her somberly. “The rest is a gift from Stax. A temporary buffer so you can make an informed decision, and so we can be with you while you do without succumbing to our own instincts.”
“Stax can do that?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“I was as surprised as you are.”
“It was Cam’s idea,” Davide said, squeezing her shoulder gently before giving her space again. “The desire and instincts are still there, the link too, if you look for it, but it’s on the back burner.”
It took her a moment to digest the information. “You said it’s temporary?”
Cam nodded. “We have until sunrise tomorrow.”
He’d argued to give her more time, but Stax said there were some things that weren’t in his power. Whether that was true or not, Cam was grateful for the concession.
“No hurry then,” she said dryly.
Did his smile look as pained as it felt? “I’m glad you’re here, Bailey. Will you sit?”
When she sat on one end of the couch, he took the chair beside it. She was close enough to touch, but the distance between them felt wider than any canyon and he was impatient to erase it. She was more at ease with Davide now, and he knew exactly why.
You made her cry.
He’d felt like a bastard when he’d seen her swollen eyes and tear-streaked cheeks yesterday. As a wolf, he sensed emotions and random thoughts from Davide and the others all the time, but this connection with Bailey was something new to him. He hadn’t realized how deep the link was or how much he’d revealed until it was too late to protect her.
She’d experienced all of it at once, his memories and doubts, and she was trying to do exactly what he’d told Davide she would—prepare herself to let them go. He’d believed it was their only choice then, but he knew better now. He may not deserve the chance to prove it to her, but he wouldn’t give stop trying without a fight.
Bailey didn’t know any of this yet, though she could if she opened the link. He wanted her to understand how conflicted he’d been when he believed he had to let her go.
With all that she’d sensed from him, how could she have missed his feelings for her? Had he lied to himself too well? Been so focused on keeping Davide safely by his side that he’d been unwilling to acknowledge his wolf’s joy at finding a mate? His own joy every time he thought of her?
Bailey made him laugh. She was like sunlight, drawing out desires he’d kept hidden away most of his life. Everything about her fit them both so perfectly, he couldn’t help but believe that Davide and Stax were right, that it was more than biology. More than a chemical trigger meant for reproduction.
A sudden flash of her holding a child with Davide’s curls, or a little girl with his gray eyes, nearly laid him low.
Rein it in, Locke. She hasn’t accepted you yet.
“How are the guests?” he asked abruptly. “I wanted to call myself but…”
“I asked for space and you respected that,” she finished with a no-nonsense look. “The guests are fine. In fact, they had a great time and think I should make the experience part of the guest package.” Her hand came up to touch her forehead. “I’m the only one who hit my head again, but it wasn’t bad, and Davide was right about the noise. There are definitely ghosts up there. I met them.” She gestured to her shoes. “Do you mind?”
When Cam shook his head, she slipped them off and curled her feet beneath her. Getting comfortable, he hoped. She must have come straight here from the shower because her hair was still wet, the bangs that usually fell over one eye slicked away from her freshly scrubbed face. It made her look young and innocent, vulnerable with that new wound from the attic. Her clinging, faded t-shirt, shorts and pink knee-high socks with white stripes on top didn’t do anything to take away from that arousing image.