More Than Just Baser Instincts.

Last night’s celebration was still a fond memory as I awoke. But now I needed to take care of the loose ends left behind in Chicago; that was why I was sitting on the floor of Quince’s bedroom. Well, to be technical I was sitting on a suitcase that refused to zip shut.

“Move, Elaine,” Quince muttered, shooing me off of my perch and zipping the damnable thing with one hand. He then turned to look at me, exhaustion evident in his eyes. “You are up at a God-awful hour. It should be illegal for airlines to run so early.”

“You should have gone to bed when I did. Besides, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Well, I’m up.” He picked up my luggage easily, throwing a glance over his shoulder at me. The warm smile on his face all but melted me. “I’ll put this in the car.”

“What? I was going to call a taxi.”

He shook his head. “Why? I’m driving.”

Only then did I realize that he was entirely dressed… Stupid Elaine.

Regardless, I followed him out to the car, separating from him as he went to throw my things into the trunk. The ride was a quiet one with both of us wishing we were still asleep in the bed. Despite my exhaustion, I still couldn’t help but wonder why he was making leaving so easily. Was it because he knew why I had to go back—that I was coming back for what I hoped was the rest of my life? Or maybe he was just trying to be good so I thought I wouldn’t regret giving him a change. No matter the rhyme or reason, I was just glad he was not up to his usual hijinks.

“Well… Here we are,” he muttered as he threw the gear into park. Then he turned his head toward me and reached out with a gentle hand that brushed across my cheek. “Before you go, might I have something to hold me over? You’re not going to be anywhere near me for a while.”

The request was innocent enough… So innocent that it brought a small smile to my lips as I closed the distance between us. It was the softest of contacts, the briefest kiss—but it still made my heart jostle inside my chest until he pulled away.

“The flight is leaving in forty minutes. Better hurry,” he said, but there was obvious lament in his voice.

I watched him, almost…sad as he handed me my suitcase and kissed my cheek once.

“I’ll talk to you when I get there,” I murmured without even thinking over my words, turning my back to him and hurrying into the building.

The airport was dull and monotonous, and on the plane I was squashed between a man who was an impressive snorer and a rather large old biddy who was sweating enough to drown a tropical city. It was hardly the most enjoyable experience of my life!

I shot Quince a quick text message as I stepped off of the plane. Then, as soon as I stepped outside of the airport, I found a taxi already waiting for me. A smile slipped onto my lips; this must have been that boy’s doing. The man offered to put my things in the back, but someone stepped forward and grabbed the handle.

“I’ve got it.”

My heart stopped.

“Quince? What the hell are you doing here?” I spat, pushing him and watching as he stumbled. My mood was spoiled! “Why did you follow me all the way to Chicago!”

He smiled sadly. “I couldn’t let you go!”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that you were going to fly here with me?”

His face soured. “Oh, you would have let me?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Exactly. Let’s just get in the car.”

But as he opened the door for me, I heard him muttering under his breath that “this was why” he had said I wouldn’t be anywhere near him for a while. Unfortunately, that was hardly the case.

“Let me guess: you’ll be staying with my godmother and I?”

He reached out and tried to catch my hand, but I shrunk out of his reach; the action elicited a groan from his lips.

“West Polk Street,” I told the man before turning my attention to the window. “Trying to weasel into my life…”

“I want to meet the woman who raised you; is that so bad?” Quince muttered, his eyes surely burning holes into the back of my head.

“And I wonder what you’ll say. God help you if you ask for a blessing!”

“Blessing? People in Home don’t get married, remember?”

I snapped around to face him. “Regardless, you will not tell her about the mate thing. It’s weird!”

He held his hands up. “Okay, I won’t. Promise. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

It seemed like years before the car pulled up to the quaint, white house with the yellow picket fence. I couldn’t hold onto any anger when the yellow door popped open and Lucille peered out with a cautious look about her and her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. My feet pushed me out of that taxi faster than I could register it, and I was grinning by the time she had gathered me in her arms.

“Oh, Elaine!” she cried, her arms shaking as she tried to hold me so tightly. “I hadn’t heard from you in so long! Please, come in, come in!” But then her voice trailed off. “You! What do you want?”

Oopsie…

“Oh, right,” I muttered, managing to slip out of her ever-tightening grasp. “Lucille, this is Quince.” I gestured to the man who had immediately frozen, dropping the suitcases he had been trying to juggle. “He’s…a friend.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A friend?”

I groaned loudly. “It’s complicated.”

That didn’t seem to make her any more comfortable, but I waved him over anyway. To his credit, he strode up with that same deadly elegance despite the large bags weighing down on his shoulders. Quince dropped them swiftly, holding out a hand.

“Quince Baum,” he introduced himself, smiling harmlessly even as Lucille just stared at the offered appendage. “Elaine tells me much about you.”

What a liar!

“I see... I guess I should brew some tea; we have much to discuss.”

I agreed, trying to walk past her and into the house. But she caught my arm.

“Much indeed, Elaine.”

I gulped.