“Why didn’t you tell me? You know I love animals.”

“I wasn’t hiding it, I just didn’t think about it. My family doesn’t know about my work there, so I don’t talk about it often.”

“Why not?” She couldn’t understand why such a close-knit family would be kept out of such an innocent part of his life. From her little experience with his parents, she knew that they would respect Rory’s work and be proud of him. They didn’t seem the type of people to discourage their children about anything.

“Most of them aren’t really into animals like I am—only Quinn loves dogs. Plus I like having something that’s just mine. When you grow up in a big family, everything you own and every part of your life is shared. I like having something the others don’t know about. Maybe that’s weird.”

“No, it makes sense, I guess. I don’t know much about families.” Nostalgia filled her voice, and Rory reached out to squeeze her knee, then refilled her now empty glass.

“My family loves you, and I’m glad that you found out about the rescue,” he told her.

“Why’s that?”

“Because how would I have ever really told you? Oh, hey, girl-I’m-trying-to-impress, I volunteer four times a week at an animal shelter,” he joked in a mocking tone.

“You’re right, there’s no way to say it without sounding like you’re either bragging or lying.”

“See my point? But now you know something no one else knows about me. I like that.” Clare noted a sad expression in his silver eyes when he nodded, although she couldn’t exactly place why. Maybe he wanted more people to know who he really was, or maybe he was struggling to figure out who that was; she wasn’t sure.

He interrupted her thoughts, reverting back to the subject of their earlier conversation. “Do you have any tattoos, Clare?”

“No way—I’m absolutely terrified of needles.” Clare shook her head vigorously.

“You seem to like my tattoo,” he hinted, pulling the blanket under her toward him slightly so that her knees were almost against his, sliding her across the ground with such ease.

“Do you like it, Clare?” His voice had dropped lower, as if she could hear it rumbling in his chest.

Her eyes dropped back down to the lion, and she licked her lips. Taking another sip of her cider, she nodded. Then she downed the rest of the glass quickly, feeling a flush of warmth rush to her cheeks and through the rest of her as his gaze flamed through hers. She felt an overwhelming urge to let him in, to push away her fears and make the most of the here and now. To take charge of those fears and herself.

She had lived in fear for so long. Fear of being alone. Fear of being with someone. Fear of Travis and his fury when he realized what she had done. Fear of moving on or running away. Fear of losing those she loved or of the past catching up with her.

Fear of everything.

With Rory, in the golden hue of the candlelit ring, all she wanted to do was push away those fears and be who she had been before everything changed. Before she had thrown away her entire life for a chance to start new.

“Clare?” His fingers found her chin, tilting her head up, making her realize that she had been lost in her thoughts.

She moved slowly, sliding her legs underneath herself and pushing up to her knees. Rory stayed still, watching her intently, his silver eyes turning dark and murky. She crawled right onto his lap, sliding one leg around each side of his waist so that she was facing him. Her movements were slow and careful, and she savored each touch, each second, each discovery.

She could feel his chest rising quickly under his breath; he was aroused at her proximity. It made her feel powerful, to be able to have that effect on him. Her hands rested against his chest and they both stared down at them, watching as her hands moved up and onto his shoulders, disappearing around to the back of his neck. Their eyes met.

Then nothing was slow.

His lips crashed on hers so forcefully, she was sure she would have fallen backward if his hands hadn’t been wrapped around her waist, holding her up. She returned his kiss with a greediness and hunger that she didn’t know she possessed. Everything about him, his touch and even the way he fit against her, was perfect.

Her arms tightly around his neck, she lost herself in him and pushed so forcefully against him that he fell backward onto the mat. His arms held her tight against his chest and her mind was quiet for the first time in as long as she could remember.

He had turned off everything, except for her.

But just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Rory gently pulled his mouth from hers and pushed her up, putting distance between them and forcing her to sit up. Startled, Clare flushed, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, was that wrong? I don’t usually—I mean, I don’t know what I was—”

“Clare, no. That was—” Rory rubbed his hands over his eyes in frustration. “Fuck, that was amazing, Clare. But I made you a promise.”

Clare slid off him, sitting next to his waist, with one leg over his hips. Frowning, she nibbled on the edge of her lip.

“Did I misread something here? I thought you wanted me. Crap, that sounds so silly. I’m sorry.”

“Clare, I want you so much right now, it physically fucking hurts. But this is different—you’re different, Clare. I promised you we would go slow and that you were in charge tonight. Remember my promise?”

“Rory—” she tried to interrupt.

Clare, if there is one thing I am, it’s true to my word. I just want this to be your choice, something I feel like you haven’t gotten a lot of in your life. I don’t want to just have one amazing night with you, which this would be. Believe me, mhuirnín, the other night was by far the most fan-fucking-tastic night of my life. I want this to be more than that.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She would be lying if she said she wasn’t thrilled to hear him say how much he had enjoyed their previous night together.

“I sound like some weak pansy, don’t I?”

Clare snorted at that last statement. Rory was anything but weak.

“Rory, what do you want from me?” she asked as he grabbed her arms and pulled her down to lie on the mat with him.

He lay flat on his back with her head on his shoulder and one of his arms wrapped around her back. Her hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady, fast beat underneath. It felt like she had done this all her life, lived right there pressed against his side. Legs intertwined, fingers interlocked. As if his body was made to hold her.

“Clare, I’m swinging in the dark here. I’ve no clue what I’m doing. All I know is that this is different. I don’t want to just have one night with you. I think I might want every night with you, and I can’t even believe those words are coming out of my mouth right now…”

“Why? Is that a bad thing?” His words were thrilling and terrifying at the same time. She continued to push his resolve, questioning him, and the truth hit her. She wanted to be with Rory, she wanted him to be with her. All the promises she had made herself about staying single, not wanting a man…none of that had factored in meeting this man.

She wanted this man.

“With you? No, never. It just surprises me, I guess.” He pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“It surprises me, too.”

“Did Patty tell you what I do at the shelter?” he asked her a few moments later as they lay quietly together. Clare nodded.

“Well, this might make me sound like an even bigger pansy, but I love rehabilitating those dogs, because they’re a lot like me. Most of them were raised from puppies to be fighters, or to be in that type of world. Ace was a bait dog—they pulled out his biggest teeth the moment they grew in, then filed down the rest. That’s why he’s all covered in scars. They used him for other dogs to practice on, to learn how to fight, and took away any chance he had at defending himself.”