“Sure, Robo-Ricky.” Courtney talks in a stilted tone, clearly meant to mock mine. “Whatever your circuit board tells you. Go find yourself a nice, pliable mate and impregnate her with two-point-three wolf cubs or whatever. Don’t see why you need to know about my dating prospects to—” Her mocking cuts off abruptly when she meets my eyes.
I’m sure my expression is blank. Still, Courtney uses her years of familiarity with me to read my intent.
“Oh.” Carefully, she sets the basket of eggs on the ground. “You mean …” She trails off, then sets her butt down next to the basket. And, confusing the hell out of me, Courtney proceeds tostretch out on the patch of grass. Like she’s ready to take a nap in the middle of her backyard.
“Courtney?”
She loses it. The laughter booms from her chest, rocking her entire body. Courtney clutches her arms around her middle, as if worried she might split apart. And the guffaws keep coming, until she’s rolling and laughing and crying tears of hilarity.
“It’s not that funny,” I mutter.
“Oh my gods! Yes, it is!” She chokes on the words, curling into the fetal position, rocking with her laughter.
“It makes sense,” I argue.
“J-just imagine it! You and me. Together. Forever.” Courtney shifts to her knees—almost as if she’s getting ready to propose—and stares up at me with mirth glittering in her eyes. “Who do you think would crack first?” She shakes her head. “Who am I kidding? You would. You’d last a week. Maybe.”
“I’d last longer than a week,” I grumble.
“Really?” Courtney pushes her way to standing again, her voice full of pretend innocence. “You know, I don’t fold my laundry. I don’t even sort it.”
“What?” I’m unable to disguise my horror at her confession.
She cackles gleefully. “Yep! And my dining room table? Crafts. Covering the whole thing. Sequins and yarn and glue guns as far as the eye can see.”
I barely repress a shudder.
“And that’s the small stuff. You don’t want to know about my big, dirty secrets.” The way she says that, it’s as if she doesn’t really want them to be secrets at all.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?” Courtney shoves my shoulder, emphasizing the truth of my next words.
“We wouldn’t work as mates.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She snorts out another couple of chuckles. Her hand is an inch away from the coop latch when she pauses. Her head tilts in question. “Why now?”
I blink, suddenly uncomfortable under her sharp examination.
“Why now?” Courtney repeats, stepping toward me as she studies my face. “You’ve had over a decade as pack leader. Why do you need a mate now? What set this off?”
“Nothing.” After clearing my throat and making sure I’ve tucked away any sign of emotion, I continue, “Only, I realized it might be time. To work toward this part of the future.”
People often think that Courtney’s huge personality and outrageous behavior mean that she’s too silly to notice things. That she’s oblivious to the world around her.
If only.
Her dark eyes narrow, and I feel like a bug pinned under a microscope.
“No, that’s not it.” She tilts her head the opposite way, studying me from another angle. “Not all of it anyway.”
Instead of responding, I simply turn my back and stride away.
Which is my biggest mistake.
“I smell a hunt!”
Damn it. Without looking behind me, I already know she’s doing some sort of excited dance, a fire in her gaze.
