Nate’s jaw dropped. He’d heard that wolves could have a protective streak, but as far as he knew, that only applied to their pack members or mates.
Wait. Did that mean Cooper considered himpack?
Nate’s mind whirled as he reached out a fingertip and shoved at the creature as he murmured, “Hey, little guy. You wanna move? Because otherwise Cooper’s gonna play quokka soccer, and that’s a bad time all round.”
The quokka blinked wide eyes and hopped away into the undergrowth. Nate didn’t imagine the way Cooper’s entire body slumped.
Nate straightened up and wrapped a hand around Coop’s wrist. “You okay?”
Cooper wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m fine. Sometimes werewolves and wildlife don’t mix, that’s all. It was a…momentary aberration.” Cooper pulled his hand out of Nate’s grasp and walked back over to his bike. “Let’s hit the beach.” And with that he rode off down the road, leaving Nate to follow him while he wondered what thefuckthat had been about.
All thoughts of werewolves and wildlife fled, though, when they reached their destination, because the bay was gorgeous. Once they’d parked their bikes and ditched their helmets, Nate stood at the top of the timber stairs that led to the beach and inhaled the sharp sea air as he took in the view.
The ocean was picture perfect, smooth and inviting and the sort of crystal-clear blue-green that was associated with tourist brochures advertising the Mediterranean or cruise ships. The odd pop of colour appeared on the surface, fluoro flippers breaking the surface with indelicate splashes as their owners dove down to the depths. Closer to shore, families played in the shallows. The sound of little kids squealing as they ran through the waves was synonymous with summer, as far as Nate was concerned.
A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie. Cooper stood beside him, their backpacks hanging from one hand, and spent a few seconds gazing out over the water, his other hand resting at Nate’s shoulder. Then he grinned and said, “Race you to the bottom.”
He bolted down the stairs with Nate in hot pursuit, their thongs slap-slap-slapping against the wooden steps. When Nate reached the bottom, Cooper was waiting. He grabbed Nate by the waist and swung him through the air before depositing him on the sand, laughing. Whatever had been bothering him earlier, there was no sign of it now.
Cooper reached over and brushed Nate’s hair away from his forehead where it was plastered with sweat from his bike helmet. Nate found himself leaning into the touch, chasing more. Cooper cupped his cheek, just for a second, and Nate soaked up the contact.
Cooper lifted his sunnies and settled them in his hair, frowning. “Your face is red. Are you sunburnt?”
Nate pressed a palm to his face, but there was none of the tell-tale sting that spoke of too long in the sun. “Nah, I’ve got sunscreen on. I’m just red from biking in temperatures that belong in Satan’s arsehole.”
Cooper let out a snort at that, and they made their way down the beach. Once they’d stashed their gear in a shaded area, Nate peeled out of his singlet. He didn’t miss the way Cooper’s gaze roamed over him. He made sure to stretch his arms over his head so that his happy trail peeked out of his shorts before hanging his snorkel round his neck, kicking off his thongs and walking into the water with Cooper by his side.
As soon as it was deep enough, Nate dove forward, letting out a gasp as the cool water hit his overheated skin. It was just as exhilarating as he remembered, and he crawled in lazy strokes out into deeper waters, soaking up the warmth of the sun from above and the chill of the ocean below. Cooper kept pace, his arms slicing a wide arc through the water, before slipping his snorkel on and disappearing under the surface.
Nate pulled his own mask on. He always hated those first few seconds of snorkelling—he panicked at the lack of oxygen before he remembered to breathe through his mouthpiece—but it passed soon enough, as it always did, and he ducked his head under the water.
He spotted tiny flashes of neon as fish darted around underneath him. He grinned to himself as he followed them, their bright colours a blinking beacon as they caught the sunlight. Water lapped around his ears, a soothing backdrop as he gave a few languid kicks and let himself relax.
This really was paradise.
He lost track of time as he glided through the water, lifting his head above the surface now and again to make sure he hadn’t drifted out too deep. Cooper floated right beside him, tapping his arm when he wanted to point at something interesting. The water was cool and clear, and Nate took in the sight of full-grown snapper swimming alongside other, more colourful species, flashes of silver darting in and out of the seagrass. Even when there wasn’t anything that interesting to see, Nate still enjoyed losing himself in another world, the currents pulling him this way and that, rays of sunlight breaking through the surface and illuminating the sandy bottom in glittering patterns that were just as pretty as the myriad of colourful fish.
The high point of the day was when Nate spotted an octopus—or maybe a cuttlefish— hiding among the sea grass, and he reached out without thinking and grabbed Cooper’s leg to alert him.
Cooper flailed and thrashed before he realised it was Nate. When he broke through the surface, he ripped his mask off, sputtering, “Fuck, I thought you were a shark!” His eyes were wide, and any trace of the cool, in-control businessman Nate had first met had vanished.
Nate pulled his own mask up, cackling at the sight of Cooper losing his shit. “Sharks don’t have hands, Coop. Besides, I thought werewolves were tough, but you’ve been a real wuss today. Is it because you’re a city wolf? Have you never seen nature before?”
Cooper drew in a couple of deep breaths, slicking wet hair out of his eyes in a way that gave Nate flashbacks to a porno involving a pool boy that he’d seen once. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. There’s an occy down there, by the way.”
Cooper pulled his mask back into place and dipped back under the water. Nate joined him, watching in fascination as the creature rolled and slithered along the ocean floor before settling in a rock crevice.
When he surfaced again, Nate flipped over onto his back, closed his eyes, and let himself drift, content to let the current pull him along as he smiled to himself.
There was the sound of splashing. When Nate cracked an eyelid and turned his head, he saw that Cooper had also surfaced and rolled onto his back and was floating alongside him, his mask pulled down under his chin. He was watching Nate, the corners of his mouth curling up in a lazy smile, so Nate figured he was forgiven for calling Cooper a wuss.
Driven by an impulse he didn’t quite understand, Nate reached out and clasped Cooper’s hand, giving a light squeeze. Something in his chest settled when Cooper squeezed back. “Thanks for today, Coop. This was awesome.”
“Anything for you, babe,” Cooper said, the corners of his eyes creasing.
Nate gave his hand one more squeeze before letting go. The sun was right overhead, meaning he’d been in the water longer than he’d thought. He could feel the piercing heat of it on his skin even through the cool water. As much as he would have liked to have stayed floating next to Cooper and holding hands like a pair of otters—well, one otter and one wolf—experience had taught him that if he didn’t want to be bright red later, he’d need another layer of sunscreen. “I’m heading in,” he said, before flipping over and beginning a slow crawl back towards shore.
