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“I have a surprise for you,” Hunter says as he helps me out of his truck when we arrive home.

“Really? What is it?”

I love surprises. He could say it’s something as simple as a walk in the woods and I’d be excited for it. I wouldn’t mind if he shifted back into wolf form and we went for a walk.

“The library puts on a movie under the stars night in the old abandoned drive-in theater. The screen is on the ground, and no cars can drive in there anymore. It’s become overgrown with grass that is decently comfortable on a blanket or in a folding lounge chair. They’re having it tonight, and I thought we could go.”

My heart races with excitement, but I don’t want to be too obvious that I’m excited to go out to see a movie. He may not know it, but the only movies I’ve seen in a theater were movie premiers I was forced to go to, and most of them sucked. Going to a drive-in wasn’t even on my list of things to do while living incognito, and now I’m wondering why it wasn’t.

I try to mask my elation with calm interest.

“And that’s not too exposed for you?” I tease. He chortles.

“No, I think I can handle one night at the movies. Besides, we’ll be surrounded by lots of other non-humans and humans. We’ll be completely safe. Vincent won’t start anything in a group like that. He may be an asshole, but he doesn’t like to deal with so much collateral.”

The thought has me cringing. Just thinking about Vincent hurting all those innocent people has me hating him even more. Shaking the horrible mental image of screaming townspeople from my brain, I focus on the fun movie-under-the-stars aspect of my evening.

“What movie are they showing? Please tell me it’s something good and not something lame likeMission Impossible.”

“Mission Impossibleis not lame. But no, they aren’t playing any Tom Cruise movies. They like to play old classics that are appropriate for all ages. This week isThe Wizard of Oz.”

“That sounds great, I love that movie. I don’t think I’ve watched it since I was a kid.”

Hunter grins as we enter the cabin, casserole dish in hand.

“Good. Cause that’s not the only surprise I have for you.”

“There’s more?” I squeal in uncontrolled delight.

“Yes, but you have to wait till later to get the rest.”

Pouting out my bottom lip, I give him my best puppy dog eyes. I love surprises, but I hate waiting to get them. He just shakes his head at me as he puts the casserole in the fridge.

“That’s not going to work, Nightingale. You’re just going to have to wait. But I promise you’ll love it.”

“I better.”

Hunter’s expression turns playful as he stalks over to me, trapping me against the back of the couch with an arm on either side.

His nose skims down my neck, and tingles prickle across my skin. Pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the crook of my neck, I shiver.

“Promise,” he whispers against my skin, his lips never breaking contact as he lingers there, practically absorbing into me.

How I could so easily fall for this man. With his sultry words and easy affection. Not to mention the body on him that radiates heat against mine and is corded with muscles that flex and shift and taunt me to touch them.

Maybe soon I will.

~Hunter~

Lottie is the most impatient surprisee ever. For the whole afternoon she tries to get me to tell her the other surprise, which I don’t. What good is a surprise if you know what it is? Plus, I enlisted my sister to help organize the surprise, and I don’t want to get Lottie’s hopes up if Ginger isn’t able to deliver my request.

For a movie in the woods, Lottie sure did dress up for the event. I told her she didn’t have to, but she insisted she was comfortable, and that’s all that matters. The plunging neckline of her jumpsuit far too low to be worn without a shirt underneath, but she does it anyway. The black lace of her bra that thankfully covers enough to not flash anyone, beckons me to tear through it with my teeth and release her perfect breasts hidden beneath. The practically sheer white sweater she wears over the ensemble isn’t nearly enough to quash my growing desire or divert my gaze from her.

We couldn’t arrive at the drive-ins soon enough. I need something to distract me from staring at Lottie.

The makeshift movie theater doesn’t have any parking, and you can’t drive up to it like you used to be able to when it was a functioning drive-in theater. Meaning we have to park in the lot across the street from the firehouse and high school on the corner. The old road leading to the theater is no more than a narrow dirt path that curves behind the high school sports field to the repurposed space.

I help Lottie out of my truck as she loops her Polaroid camera over her shoulder. She’s almost as bad as my dad, carrying her camera with her everywhere. I appreciate that it’s instant and not digital. I don't have to worry that any of these photos will appear on Instagram, the bane of my existence.