"And you've never felt this recognition before?"
My eyes lift to hers, unable to stop myself. "I didn't say that."
Ruby's lips part slightly, her pulse visibly quickening at her throat. "Cole—"
A sudden, sharp pain lances through my palm. I look down to find I've sliced my hand, blood welling from a deep cut. I hadn't even felt it happen. Too distracted, too close to shifting.
"You're bleeding!" Ruby is around the island in an instant, grabbing a kitchen towel and pressing it to my palm. "Let me see."
"It's fine," I try to pull away, but she holds firm.
"It is not fine. That's a deep cut." She peels back the towel, examining the wound with concern. "You need stitches."
I shake my head. "No, I don't. It'll heal."
"Don't be stubborn. Where's your first aid kit?"
"Bathroom cabinet," I relent, knowing it's easier to let her tend to it than to explain my accelerated healing.
She disappears down the hall, returning moments later with my extensive medical kit. Another oddity she's noted—why a bachelor living alone needs hospital-grade supplies.
"Sit," she commands, pointing to a stool.
I obey, amused despite the situation by her authoritative tone. She works efficiently, cleaning the wound, applying antiseptic. By the time she's ready to bandage it, the bleeding has already slowed. My shifter healing working faster than normal due to the approaching full moon.
Ruby frowns, examining the cut. "That's strange. It looked much deeper a minute ago."
"Good pressure," I suggest, flexing my hand. "See? Already better."
She doesn't look convinced but wraps a bandage around my palm anyway. Her touch is gentle, her fingers warm against my skin. She's standing between my legs as she works, close enough that I can count her eyelashes, see the small constellation of freckles across her nose that only appears in certain light.
My bear is going crazy, urging me to pull her closer, to bury my face in her neck, to claim what's mine. The moon's pull, her proximity, the intimacy of her caring for me. It's too much.
"Ruby," I say, my voice a low warning.
She looks up, still holding my bandaged hand, and whatever she sees in my face makes her eyes widen. "What is it?"
"You should step back." Each word is an effort, restraint stretched to breaking.
"Why?" she whispers, not moving away.
"Because I'm going to kiss you if you don't."
I expect her to retreat, to remember why she's here, to maintain the professional boundary we've been circling for two days.
Instead, she leans forward, just slightly—an invitation.
My control shatters. I pull her to me with my uninjured hand, my mouth finding hers in a kiss that's been building since she first stepped onto my porch. She makes a small sound of surprise that melts into something softer as she responds, her lips warm and yielding under mine.
My bear roars in triumph, and I have to fight to keep the kiss gentle, to remember she's human and fragile compared to me. But Ruby isn't fragile in her response. Her hands slide up my chest to my shoulders, fingers threading into my hair as she presses closer.
She tastes like sunshine, and I'm drowning in her scent, in the soft curves pressed against me, in the rightness of having her in my arms. My mate. Mine.
The possessive thought breaks through the haze of desire, reminding me of all she doesn't know. All I haven't told her. I pull back reluctantly, resting my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard.
"I shouldn't have done that," I murmur, though my bear rages at the words.
"I wanted you to," Ruby admits, her hands still resting on my shoulders. "I've wanted you to since yesterday."
