"So you didn't choose to be mated to me," she said, her head tipped down so I could only admire the golden crown of waves in her hair and the shadowy view of her breasts down the collar of her sweater.

She'd dressed in jeans that hugged her full ass and thighs beautifully, then laughed at me. "Maybe if I'm not in a skirt, we can keep from fucking in public."

I would've attested to my ability to control myself, but Sunny was right—the inaccessibility of pants was a necessary protective measure. So was eating out in public instead of at Sunny's modest dining table.

"I did choose you," I said.

"You said it was instinct," Sunny said, looking up, face set without expression.

Sunny had usually been so open, transparent even, during our week with MSA. Now I kept hitting these walls. It was understandable, and the reason I'd hesitated in telling her about the bond, but I didn't need her to accept the reality of it yet. I just needed her here at my side.

"The bond forms under the information our instinct provides," I said, nodding. "But I chose to think of you outside of the role of my client while we were together. To share my name, truths about myself, to deviate from the itinerary—"

"Itinerary?" Sunny tried to whisper the word, but it came out as more of a strangled squawk.

I laughed and nodded, sinking lower in my seat until my knees hit the bench opposite us. My arm was draped over the back of the booth, pressed to Sunny's shoulders.

"MSA provided me with a daily recommended schedule. I could tweak it based on what you seemed to enjoy most, but I more or less gave up on following the ones they provided for you immediately. They were too safe. I knew you could take more," I purred, dipping my head to nip Sunny's nose, her stunned eyes crossing before I pulled away.

"And your name…" she pressed.

"I usually don't offer one," I said, shrugging. "Or I make one up. But I wanted to hear you screaming mine."

Sunny blushed and leaned into my side, that reserve fading at last. "I didn't realize you weren't supposed to give your name."

"Well, I wasn't about to tell you how unprofessional I was being," I said.

Our breakfast arrived at that moment, my plate piled high with my double order of breakfast scramble, and Sunny's plate of savory waffles steaming.

The waitress stared at us both as she set down two gravy bowls, one eyebrow arched as if in doubt of our ability to finish off all the food we'd ordered. She must not have served orcs very often.

"Can we get three sides of bacon?" I asked.

Sunny snorted, stealing one of the gravy bowls for herself and pouring it over her waffles.

The waitress turned on her heel.