Gabby shuffled out of her room. She hadn't fallen asleep until early morning. I hadn't slept well either, thanks to the love noises coming from Rachel and Peter.

I followed Gabby closely, unhappy that Peter was not only still in the house but also taking a shower. Gabby didn't seem to notice. She went straight to the fridge, stood in front of the open door for several long minutes, then looked around the room. Her gaze locked onto the orange juice container in the recycling bin.

She glanced at me, and I wanted to shake my head in denial. I had nothing to do with emptying that drink. I had tried a sip of it once, just to see why she liked it so much. I'd left it alone after that. She shared enough with me already.

A noise in the bathroom diverted Gabby's attention. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes in that direction, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Great. Another non-coffee person," she said.

She shuffled to the faucet, grabbed a glass, then tipped the handle. She started to mumble as she jiggled the handle in earnest. It wobbled loosely, and the water didn't come out like it usually did.

"Looks like I'll have to call the hottie plumber back," Rachel said as she walked into the kitchen.

"No, thanks," Gabby said quickly. "And no big guy showing two inches of crack, either." She turned off the tap with only a third of her glass full. "I was going to go pick up Clay later, anyway. I'll have him look at it."

Excitement coursed through me. She wanted me to wear my skin again.

Rachel looked up in surprise from the coffee tin. "Really? No-talk, leave-early Clay?"

Quiet woman, I thought, not liking the skepticism in her tone.

"Yeah, that one. Not the dog."

"I believe you said you didn't think he'd be around much," Rachel said with an odd grin.

She really needed to stop talking. I didn't want Gabby to remember that.

"Don't remind me. I'm probably going to need to beg."

Not likely. I doubted Gabby would need to beg me for anything ever.

"Does he know much about plumbing?" Rachel asked as she moved to the sink to fill the coffee pot.

"Don't know...we don't talk much."

Although she said it with humor, I knew that really bothered her. I watched her set her glass aside.

Soon, Gabby. We'll talk soon.

* * * *

After Peter and Rachel left, Gabby emerged from her room dressed for the day.

"Wanna come shopping with me or stay here?"

Silly question. I walked to the door, and she drove us to the grocery store. As usual, I waited in the car as she strode across the parking lot.

It took almost an hour for her to reappear; and when she did, she moved fast as if she expected someone to come tearing after her. I watched behind her closely. No one was following her.

She caught my gaze and smiled at me. Then her gaze drifted to the truck pulling into the spot next to us. I turned and saw a man getting out. His determined, possessive expression had me tensing. What was it with human men around Gabby?

"Hi, there. Need a hand?" the man said as Gabby stopped her cart near the trunk of our car.

"No, thanks. I got it."

The man didn't move away.

"My name's Dale. I own Dale's Auto Body on South Mitchell. You should bring your car by. It looks like it might be due for an oil change."

What? I'd just changed it. Don't believe him, Gabby, I thought to her.

"That's a nice offer, but my boyfriend does the oil changes," she said as she opened the trunk, momentarily blocking my view. My heart seized for a minute. Did she know?

I ducked down and watched them in the narrow strip at the bottom of the window. Gabby didn't look upset, just in a hurry. Probably because Dale still hadn't left.

"He's a handy guy, then?" Dale asked as he grabbed the potatoes and set them in the trunk, a move that brought him closer to Gabby.

I shifted my paw into a hand, ready to open the door if need be.

"Yes, very," Gabby said. Her pulse remained steady, indicating she believed what she said. I wanted to shift fully but not because of the man outside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he said.

Gabby met my gaze and rolled her eyes. Although she found the man's attempts at courting her humorous, I did not.

"Gabby," she said, closing the trunk. "Thanks for helping me with the groceries, but I need to get going. My dog's been in the car for a while already."

Gabby swiftly shoved the cart into the empty space beside us and turned toward her door. She hadn't been fast enough. Dale now stood between her and the car door. I hopped from the back seat to the driver's seat, ready to let myself out and remove the man.

"We have an opening at the shop," I heard him say. "If your boyfriend's looking for work, send him by. We'll see how good he is."

I wanted to laugh. Whether or not he was serious, I'd be seeing Dale again soon.

Oblivious that I was now in the driver's seat, he opened the door for her. I growled a low warning. He looked down at me in surprise and backed up a step.

Gabby was quick to get in and pull the door from his loose hold. She had the engine started and was pulling away before the man thought to move again.

"Well, that was a challenge if I ever heard one," she said as she reached over to pet my head.

Human men weren't a challenge; they were an annoyance. But, that one might just be helpful.

"However, no challenges until you fix the sink," she said with a smile.

When we got back to the house, Gabby grabbed the things from the trunk and carried them into the house.

"You go shower while I unpack. Then you can look at the sink and see if we can avoid calling that big-headed plumber back."

I went to the bathroom, shifting just after I rounded the corner. Gabby hadn't followed me after that first time. I turned on the water and let it warm before stepping in.

A few minutes later, Gabby tapped on the door.

"I'm coming in, so please stay behind the curtain."

I grinned and rinsed the shampoo from my hair as I waited for her to gather the courage to open the door. It took several heartbeats.

"I have some clothes for you. Better stuff for looking at a sink than what I bought yesterday." She paused a moment. "Clay, I'm so sorry. I'm being rude and making assumptions." She took a deep breath. "Will you look at the sink? Please?" She was teasing me. I could hear the laughter in her voice. I cupped my hands under the water then squeezed them together, aiming the squirt of water over the curtain.

"Ok, ok. I'll just leave the stuff here on the floor. If something doesn't fit," she said, her voice taking on a nervous pitch, "or you don't like it, leave the tags on it, and we'll take it back. I guessed on the shoes. Some of the stuff isn't for now, but I figured you could try it on."

Why was she so nervous? Beyond the curtain, I heard a rustle of clothes. Was she taking back what she'd gotten me? My curiosity had me turning off the water.

She squeaked and fled the bathroom. I chuckled and pushed aside the curtain. On the toilet, she'd laid out socks, those tight underwear, a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. A pair of grey and blue running shoes waited on the floor beside the toilet. All of it new.

First the car guy, now clothes. Finally, things were falling into place for me.

I eagerly dressed but left off the shoes and socks. I wasn't planning on going anywhere and didn't want to dirty anything more than I needed to. Everything fit well. She'd done a good job guessing at my size. Maybe she'd been paying more attention to me in my skin than she'd let on.

Grinning, I stepped out of the bathroom. But Gabby wasn't there. Curious, I checked the kitchen. Not there either.

I peeked in her room and saw her sewing a flannel shirt. It was large. Too big for her. The ache in my chest surged. She was sewing my shirt. I quickly left before I did something stupid, like tackle her with a hug.

From the basement, I grabbed a few of the tools I'd collected, then went back upstairs to work on the faucet. It wasn't too complex. The handle seemed as if it was simply loose.

I leaned closer, studying how the handle was connected. Behind me, I heard Gabby walk into the kitchen and pause. She didn't say anything or move, and it took all my effort to remain focused on the sink. Did she like the clothes? Did she like seeing me in my skin again?

Finally, she moved. I listened to her walk to the fridge, open it, then walk to the table and set a few things down. Her movement stirred the air enough that I caught the subtle change in her scent. Interest. In me.

My canines grew larger. With care, I set down the wrench I'd been using. It took all my willpower to walk past her and go down into the basement where I stood for a full minute, shaking. I listened to her steps on the floor above me. If she had any idea what she'd just done...I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and ran my tongue over my teeth, willing them smaller.

It helped calm the shaking, but the teeth didn't budge. I went to the small pile of tools and grabbed the Allen wrenches I'd acquired. Unable to stay away from her any longer, I headed back up the stairs.

Gabby glanced at me when I reappeared.

"The shoes didn't fit?" she asked as she moved to the potatoes on the table.

I shrugged, having no idea if they fit. Shoes were the last thing on my mind. As I walked past her, I inhaled her scent again, needing to know if the interest had been a fleeting thing. It was still there, a light and fragile sweetness added to her already enticing scent.

"So they fit, but you didn't want to wear them?"

How did she know me so well? Because we were meant for each other.

I bent to the sink again and started checking which size Allen wrench I needed. Behind me, she shifted in her chair, and I listened to the rasp of the peeler as she removed the potato's skin.

"Did you like them, or should we take them back?"

Return them? I almost straightened from the sink, but she kept talking in a rush.

"I wasn't sure what style you liked. There were several different colors. They're cheap shoes, but I figured it was better than walking around barefoot in the snow. That's got to be cold, even for you."

She was worried I didn't like the shoes. I turned and looked at her. Interest and now concern.

"I just don't want you to think you have to keep them if you don't like them. It won't hurt my feelings if we take them back. Just wear the flip flops for now, and you can come in with me next time and pick out what you like."

She quickly stood and went to the stove.

While her back was turned, I used my speed to get the shoes and socks from the bathroom. I couldn't tell her I hadn't wanted to put them on and risk wrecking them before I had a chance to use them to get a job. But if I didn't do something to show that I liked them, she'd take them back. There was no way I'd surrender a single item she picked out for me. Not even the underwear.

I sat in the kitchen chair, put on the socks, and was in the middle of tying the shoes when she turned again.

"No, no, no, Clay," she said in a rush as she moved toward me. "I wasn't saying you had to wear them."

I knew that. But I also knew they were a gift from her, and by not wearing them right away, I'd hurt her feelings.

"It's okay to bring them back if you don't like them."

I finished tying, stood, and looked down at my feet. The shoes hugged the sides of my feet, but I had room to move my toes. They were much more comfortable than the ruined boots. Gabby remained where she was, and I was certain her gaze never left me. I wanted to look up, but I didn't trust myself. Instead, I moved to finish working on the sink.

"You like shoes, but you don't wear them much. Right?"

I shrugged again, wanting her to keep talking to me, but she turned back to the stove and fell silent. She didn't seem upset by anything so the quiet wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it seemed pretty typical of our time together. Sometimes, she didn't feel like talking. I didn't mind those quiet moments with her.

The aroma of bacon, eggs, and potatoes had my mouth watering, and I couldn't wait to eat. I finished the faucet and tested the work, happy to see a full stream of water.

"Good to have a handyman," she said.

She'd called me a man. I wanted to pick her up and spin with her in my arms. Instead, I took the tools back downstairs and spent another minute trying to calm down.

When I returned, she had two plates on the table. She already sat at one side. My gut clenched. Our first real meal together.

I sat across from her, kept my eyes on my plate, and dug in. I nearly groaned. The bacon was loose just as I liked it, the eggs runny, and the potatoes crisp with bacon grease. I used my napkin often, worried I would have a yolk trail in my beard; Gabby liked me clean.

"What are the chances of trimming that beard?" Gabby asked.

I slowly wiped my mouth as I tried to figure out why she was asking. If she didn't like it, she would have asked about shaving it off. She'd said trim. Did she still think I looked like a crazy man? No, she'd told Rachel that was her first impression of me, not the current one. I decided to be honest about the reason behind the beard. It hid things, like my smiles when she was around...and my teeth.

Pulling my lips back, I flashed my smile at her. She froze for a second, her fork suspended in midair, and I detected a hint of fear. I closed my lips to hide my elongated canines and focused on my food again.

"Do they stay like that all the time?" she asked.

I debated if I should answer. She'd been afraid just seeing them. But she was asking questions. About me. Getting to know me. I wanted that. We needed it. But how could I explain why my teeth were big without scaring her more?

Taking my last bite, I stood and moved to the sink while I tried to decide if I should answer her question.

Abandoning her food, she followed me and leaned against the counter. Though I didn't look at her, I knew she was still studying me.

"Is this something you don't want to talk about?"

I shrugged.

"Is it something I need to guess, or can you explain it to me?"

She really wanted to know.

I glanced at her, wondering how I could explain it. My teeth were always out around her. It was worse when she gave me signs that she was starting to like me. Care for me. Her interest in me really hit hard. How could I show her that her nearness was the influence? The answer was crazy simple—show her that she could make it even more pronounced.

Slowly washing my plate and fork, I considered how she would react if I scented her, nose to skin. She moved away from the sink to grab her dishes. I went to the stove and washed that while I debated her possible reactions. There was only one way to know for sure.

I returned to the sink where she rinsed her plate. Her calm posture reassured me. Setting the washrag aside, I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms as I waited for her to finish.

We stood just a few inches apart, and when she turned to me, I could see the gold flecks in her light brown eyes. We watched each other for several moments. Her eyes dipped to my chest, and I saw her interest again. If she kept this up, I'd need to leave and lose a perfect opportunity to get closer. Yeah, not going to happen.

I uncrossed my arms and leaned toward her. Panic filled the air, and she froze. I inhaled, reminding myself I needed to be careful. I shook my head, trying to tell her not to worry, and pulled back.

Her throat moved with a hard swallow.

"You're trying to explain the teeth, right?" Fear still laced her words.

I nodded.

She studied me again, and slowly, the panic faded and interest returned. She took a deep breath.

"It's okay then. Go ahead, explain. I'll behave," she said.

I grinned and knew she'd caught me when her gaze dropped to my mouth. Maybe I needed a bigger beard.

Carefully, I leaned forward again. She didn't flinch away, and her scent remained clear of fear. As I neared, my teeth grew in anticipation. If she were my kind, I would bite her neck, Claim her, and end the waiting. But she wasn't my kind. She needed to bite me.

I didn't stop my approach until my nose almost touched her skin. Then, I inhaled deeply. Ah, what she did to me. I gripped the counter to steady myself and hoped she didn't notice.

She stiffened as I exhaled, and her pulse spiked. Even with fear flooding her, her scent called to me. I inhaled once more and lifted my head, exhaling as I went.

I was inches from her lips and so tempted. Would she still run? Had I given her enough time?

No. Her eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty. She still didn't trust that we were meant to be together.

I pulled back my lips, finishing what I'd started...an explanation for the beard.

She studied me, and slowly her pulse calmed.

"So, when you're around me, they're worse? I guess that means they're like that all the time."

I shrugged and took a step back.

A car pulled into the driveway, distracting Gabby. She left the kitchen in a rush. I sighed and quickly stripped out of the clothes, knowing our time was over. For now.

When Rachel walked through the door, I was in my fur and the clothes were in a neat pile on the chair.

Rachel smiled at me, petted my head, then caught sight of the clothes as Gabby walked into the room.

"Is there someone here?"

"Clay stopped by and fixed the sink. He figured he would leave a change of clothes because of last night," Gabby said.

Her smooth lies amazed me. I was glad I could hear the skip in her pulse to detect them because without it, there was nothing to give her away.

"Really? The sink's working? And for free?" Rachel moved to the sink to test it.

Gabby shrugged and grabbed the clothes, leaving me to deal with Rachel's good mood. When Rachel was happy, I endured hugs, kisses on the top of the head, and excessive petting. Done with her affectionate praise, she finally released me; and I shook off the feeling of her.

Oneof these days, Rachel's fondling would bother Gabby.