Eighty Two

They drove in a companionable silence, although occasionally he would look over at her and wait for her to meet his gaze as though he wanted to make sure her mind wasn't elsewhere. It surprised her that although James had a strong, imposing personality and could be quite intense, she didn't find his presence suffocating. If it wasn't for the fact that she was trying so hard to keep him at a distance, Sansa might have felt relaxed around him.

Arriving at the diner, James possessively shackled her wrist with his hand and kept her to his side as they strolled toward the entrance. The physical contact served to further uplift his wolf's typically dark mood. She gave him an odd look and tested the strength of his hold. When his grip didn't slacken, she sighed in surrender—as if indulging him was the easier thing to do in this instance. It was.

 Once they had placed their orders with the waitress, Sansa spoke. "What did you do with your morning?"