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Chapter 7

Dane

My list of questions kept growing as we sat down to eat at the small pub-type restaurant down the street.

What was a bonded mate?

Why did my designation change?

When would he let me bathe without a seat belt?

How was he planning on keeping me safe all the time?

I was smart enough to realize I wasn’t ready for the mess that last one would bring up, so I kept it to myself. The others were probably just as dangerous, but I had a feeling they were more important.

When we had water—because the idea of me getting soda seemed to make him physically uncomfortable—I leaned back and tried to figure out where to start. Not limits, because I could see why he didn’t want me having caffeine and chemicals this late in the afternoon…and some of the other stuff that could come up in a limits conversation would be stressful, so I avoided that too.

Nope, it was the designation stuff…

Probably not smart for a variety of reasons, but it kept coming up in my head.

“I have a question.” Before I could decide how to actually get it out, he smiled and reached over to pat my arm.

“I must first commit a manners error by interrupting and telling you that you are a very good human for knowing water is much healthier.” Pulling his tentacle back, he smiled. “You are a very good human.”

Good human…

Someone had clearly explained we didn’t say submissive human or little human in public.

It was good to know we didn’t need to have that discussion.

And it was good to know that while he might squirm and wince, he wouldn’t actually tell me no about getting something like a soda at dinner.

“I thought you might think it was a better decision.” Designations were important, so I started sorting through options in my head as I got down to the rest of our discussion as we waited for our food. “Can you explain why you’re calling me ‘my Dane’ now and does that relate to the bonding thing?”

Bingo.

Daddy Wright looked guilty.

It was cute, but I wasn’t going to point that out until I’d figured out what he’d done…or more likely…what he’d left out.

“Wright? It seems like it might be something I need to understand in more detail. Sir?” He liked that last part…the rest of it he would’ve liked to ignore, but something about the Sir had him melting for me. It might not be the most inconspicuous thing I could call him in public, but it was better than Daddy.

“Yes, information is important for good communication in any relationship.” That seemed to be more of a pep talk for himself, so I nodded and waited. After a few seconds, he sighed like we were in a soap opera and started opening up.

Yep, there were definitely a few things I needed to know.

A look that could only be described as sheepish made that very clear.

“Bonding or bonded is a process as well as a way to describe a type of relationship.” He paused, seeming to think it was important, so I did my best to process what that might mean.

Verb and noun?

We do processes or we go through processes.

Oh, processes…

“Process as in a biological one?” That question got me a bright smile and he barely held back another good boy pat.

When he learned a lesson, it obviously stuck.

I was going to have to remember that.

“Yes, my Dane.” That had him stopping and shifting…and giving me more information when he felt guilty again. “While you were…resting, I called a member of one of the bonded pairs I am acquainted with. I was advised that while he was pleased I have found you, I should have already more thoroughly explained bonding.”

It took me a second to jump from the way he’d been careful not to say nap to the whole thoroughly explain bonding thing.

Yep, we needed more conversation and less cuddling.

“I’m glad he’s happy for us and I’m glad he seems to be giving you good advice.” Positive reinforcement. Positive reinforcement. “It makes me feel good that you’re doing your best to take care of me.”

He frowned, shifting again.

Yes, guilt was going to work.

Grandma would’ve been proud of me, but I did my best to stay relaxed and not react. Guilt wouldn’t work for long if he could sense when I was using it.

This was going to require some effort, but he was worth it.

Hmm, maybe I should take up yoga? Wasn’t that supposed to help you control your breathing?

“Yes, you are very important to me, my Dane.” He said that so seriously and with such honesty in his tone that I knew he wasn’t lying.

I told myself I was going to remember that when he finally finished explaining what he should’ve already said…and I also reminded myself that I couldn’t get pregnant.

Who knew that would be comforting?

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