Chapter 4: Intentions

Lyall walked in, a smile plastered across his handsome face.

"Hey babe," he said and pulled Willow in for a rough hug. He buried his face in her hair, nuzzling her neck. She stiffly returned the hug before pulling away slightly.

"You're here early," she replied, looking him over. He looked good, she couldn't deny that. Her grandmother had at least picked her a striking mate. He was tall, not nearly as tall as Garin but he was close. His build was lankier with leaner muscles. Where Garin was refined, Lyall was all rough edges. During the warmer months, he kept his beard short, preferring a small amount of stubble. With autumn around the corner, he had begun to grow his beard out.

His ruddy skin was tanned from working outside and he kept his long black hair secured into a tight braid that lay between his shoulder blades. His eyes were a dull yellow-green that had always reminded Willow of a serpent.

Today he wore a thick, black cable knit sweater and jeans with the knees torn out. He appraised Willow's appearance. She flushed slightly.

"Yeah, I figured I would hit the road early so I could spend most of the day here," he pushed some of her curls behind her ear and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Morning Loriann," he called to her grandmother and he gave her a swift peck. "I've missed you!"

"Well, you need to visit more!" She chided him and swatted at his arm. He grinned sheepishly.

"Work has been busy," he explained and leaned against the railing leading to the upstairs.

"You need to find work closer to here," she scolded.

"I will, soon. We are looking into opening a store in town,"

"Oh?" Willow asked, trying to ignore the dread that crept into her stomach. He smiled at her, flashing his white teeth.

"I was going to wait and tell you later but yeah. My dad and I are pricing some storefronts. We have enough inventory that we could go a year without having to make anything else. Aside from custom pieces that is,"

"That's wonderful!" Loriann crowed and threw her arms around him. He smiled at Willow over her shoulder and she gave him a weak, half-smile.

"Let me get some breakfast going," Loriann said and hustled back to the kitchen, whistling a jaunty tune loudly. An awkward silence stretched between them.

"So, you were out running?" he asked, his eyes looking her over. Her head jerked up.

"Yes, why?" she replied tightly. With a laugh, he reached towards her.

"You have a branch in your hair," he showed her the small twig he had plucked from its perch. She let out a small chuckle.

"Ah, of course. I couldn't sleep so I went for an early run," she fought back a yawn, her body yearning for sleep.

"Go take a nap. I'll be here when you get up." He said and nudged her up the stairs.

"How long will you be here?" she asked, trying to seem genuinely interested.

"A few weeks. Your grandmother asked me to stay until after the festival. Which makes sense since I was planning on coming back for it anyways."

Great. She thought.

"That's…wonderful. I'll be pretty busy at the café though, so I don't know how much free time I'll have," she said, hoping to dissuade him.

"Not a problem. I'll be meeting with some realtors anyways. Plus, I can always come hang out while you're working," he gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, sure." She groaned inwardly. "Well, I'm going to head up," she gestured towards her room.

"Sleep well," he said and kissed her gently on the lips. It wasn't a bad kiss. His lips were full and soft. It just wasn't…electric. She kissed him back and quickly withdrew. Hurrying up the stairs without a backward glance, she sequestered herself in her room and locked the door behind her.

She felt like she wanted a shower. She didn't know why Lyall affected her this way. He was handsome, friendly, and seemed to genuinely care about her. Maybe it's because he is her intended. She had never thought of herself as rebellious and here she was, in her mid-twenties and finally rebelling.

Perched on the edge of her bed, thoughts of Lyall quickly diminished. She wanted to feel what she felt when Garin touched her hand. It was exciting, thrilling, and dangerous. She ran her forefinger along her palm where his fingers had grazed. Her heart sped slightly, reminiscing. She should sleep. These kinds of thoughts were dangerous.

She awoke hours later, the sun was already over halfway past its journey through the sky. Grey clouds blotted out the sun, giving an eerie glow. Willow loved it. She hoped it would storm. Nothing compared to the way that the wind and rain lashed the trees and she, tucked cozily next to the fire with a book.

A murmuring of voices drifted up from downstairs. She groaned when she remembered that Lyall was here. He would probably insist on spending time with her if it rained. Them both trapped inside of the house, forced to play an asinine board game.

"Willow?" her grandmother called up to her.

"Yes?" she knew she wouldn't get away with pretending to still be asleep. Her grandmother had the hearing of, well, a wolf.

"Get ready. Lyall is taking you to dinner!" Willow sighed. There were only a handful of restaurants in town. She hoped they weren't going to the stuffy, fancy one that served six courses. Plus she had nothing to wear.

"I should shower," she said aloud after sniffing her hair. It held the faint smell of sweat from her run earlier. She took a quick shower, wanting to get the evening over with. Wrapped in a towel, she stared at her closet. Usually, one to wear jeans and a sweater, she didn't have many date night type outfits.

She dug around in her closet and found a moss green dress that she had been given by an aunt and never worn. Laying it on the bed, she studied it incredulously. It was much shorter than she had remembered. Maybe it would be longer once she had it on.

It was not. She spun around a few times in the mirror, looking at the dress from every angle. It hugged her body tightly and ended well above her knees. It left nothing to the imagination. Her every curve was on display. She contemplated taking it off but it had taken her nearly ten minutes to get it on. It would have to work.

Thankfully it was long-sleeved, so she felt somewhat covered, even if the sleeves were made of a dark lace. She decided to wear her hair down tonight, which meant she would have to tame it somehow. She chose a lightly scented mousse and worked it through her long hair.

She needed a cut. Her hair hung nearly to her waist now. It fell in soft ringlets, framing her oval face. Her face looked sad against the done-up hair and outfit. Quickly, she applied makeup. She chose a slightly shimmery gold eyeshadow and a nude lipstick.

A spray of freckles stretched from cheek to cheek, grazing over her nose. She loved them, choosing to never wear foundation. With a spritz of perfume, she was ready.

"Oh, shit, shoes!" she was halfway down the stairs when it occurred to her that she couldn't exactly wear her Doc Martens. Begrudgingly she went back upstairs. She had exactly one pair of scuffed nude heels. They would have to do.

Lyall was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps, a smile on his face. He was wearing his hair mostly down, with the top tied at the back of his head. His shirt was a fitted black button-down tucked into tailored jeans.

"You look amazing," he said and grabbed her hand, giving her a spin. She laughed.

"You don't look so bad yourself. I didn't even know you owned clean clothes," she teased. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you ready? I made reservations."

"Just about. Grandmother?" she called. Her grandmother appeared instantly as if she had been listening from the living room.

"Oh, Willow. You look beautiful. You both do. Let me take a picture!"

"No, no grandmother it isn't necessary. We are already running late," Willow tried to stop her but she had already snapped a handful of pictures.

"Have fun you two! Stay out as late as you want," she threw a roguish wink towards them.

"Oh, god. Let's get out of here," Willow groaned and pushed Lyall out of the front door.

The drive to the restaurant was quiet. Lyall had put on the radio and Willow found she had nothing to say. She was very aware of the close proximity of their bodies and the fact that they were alone. His scent filled the car.

He pulled his car up in front of a restaurant on the edge of town. It was a newer one she hadn't been to yet. The Twilight Lounge was burned into a large wooden sign above the door. The building had recently been remodeled. It was the old shirt factory. Now the top floors were being converted into industrial apartments.

It was painted black with large glass windows. The only light that seemed to come from inside were hundreds of candles.

"The Twilight Lounge?" Willow asked him, a sardonic twist to her lips. He laughed.

"It's a gastropub! It's new,"

"Obviously. What the hell is a gastropub?" she asked as he led her inside, his hand on her lower back.

"You'll find out," his eyes glimmered in the low light. Maybe he wasn't so bad, she thought to herself as she stepped inside.

The inside was gorgeous, the walls exposed brick and the ceiling was covered in exposed ductwork. But a smell was drawing her attention from the décor. Her eyes quickly shifted through the crowd and they locked on his.