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Considering he’s been gone for days at a time; I’m concerned about what that says for his work-life balance. What that says for us. “Do you usually spend a lot of late nights at the office?”

“No. Things have just been a little off lately. Nothing to worry about, though.”

Something crosses his face and my pulse trips.

I know that look. It’s the one that says Connor’s hiding something from me. Again, my head tells me to let it go, that asking questions will end badly for me. Maybe it will, but I refuse to go back to ignorance. Not again.

Twisting in my seat, I lay it all out. “Look, I know this isn’t really first date territory, but I feel like something isn’t right here and I don’t feel good ignoring it. Are you hiding something?”

Connor sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “Yes.”

Air whooshes out of my lungs. Fuck, I wish I’d worn descenter. I’ve stopped using it around the pack, but the whole car is going to smell like stressed omega in no time.

He reaches for my hand, pausing when I pull away. I’m unsettled, aching to run and hide, but avoiding my problems won’t help when I need answers. So I let him hold me, the contact grounding us as he twines our fingers together.

Before I can decide how I feel, he pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “I am keeping something from you, but I promise, it’s nothing bad. I’m just not ready to share yet. Okay?”

Is it? Not really, but at the very least, I trust that Nate wouldn’t let anything happen to me and there’s no way he doesn’t know. Packs don’t keep secrets.

“You promise it’s not going to hurt me?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“And you’ll tell me eventually?”

“I promise.” Connor sounds so earnest that it’s hardnotto believe him.

“Okay. I can wait.” Because at the end of the day, it’s what I wanted from him at the start. The chance to tell him my secrets when the time was right. How hypocritical would it be for me to push now when I nearly walked after he did the same?

His relieved breath hits me deep in my chest. “Thank you, angel.”

I’m still unsettled, but I lean into the calmness of my body. How safe I feel. It helps.

We stay in comfortable silence for the next twenty minutes as I take in the drive. Leaving Seaport, we pass through the suburbs and metropolitan areas before finally stopping in front of an adorable, two-level house on the outskirts of town.

“Are you ready?” He asks after pulling my door open.

“Depends. Where are we?”

“Just wait.” Connor dutifully helps me out and keeps my hand in his. When we’re near the door, he pulls me close and whispers in my ear. “You’re going to love this.”

“The date?”

“The courting gift.”

Oh.

He steps inside without knocking, stalling us in an expansive yet cozy foyer. There’s an insane iron chandelier that looks both beautiful and functional. Past the doors, I see what looks like worktables and bolts of fabric. As if the entire house has been turned into a sewing room.

“Where are we?” I whisper, eyes wide as I take it all in.

“This is Travina Bellencourt’s atelier.”

No, the fuck he did not.

I look around and sure enough, there’s her logo at the top of a to-do list on the closest table.

Travina Bellencourt isthemost exclusive lingerie designer in the world. Her designs are the stuff every celebrity wishes they could have and every royal hides behind their clothes. Her garments are so coveted even my exes couldn’t get me a set.