She found that her appetite was back, and she dove into the pile of ribs with gusto, savoring the sweet, tangy sauce and the smoky flavor of the meat.
“Leave some for me,” Miles laughed, wiping his fingers on a napkin.
“Gmph mmph hmpph.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak crazy-lady. What was that again?”
She swallowed the last bite and grinned at him. “Get some of your own.”
Miles leaned forward in his chair and took the paper plate from her and dropped it into a trash can. “So how am I doing?”
“Er…great? How are you doing at what?”
“Not being insulting.” He looked so earnest and so concerned about her answer that she felt herself go all warm and tingly.
“Oh. Umm…pretty good, actually.”
“Of course, I’m not courting you or anything. Because you told me not to. And also you’re way too good for me.”
“Well, that’s true.” She nodded in agreement and set the last rib down on her plate.
“Hold on,” he said, and reached up and wiped her cheek with a napkin, and as he did, he let his thumb trail down the side of her face.
“Did you get all the sauce?” she asked.
“There was no sauce. I just wanted an excuse to touch you.”
The air suddenly felt very warm, and she was aware of each breath she took. Her nipples swelled into hard little buds that rubbed against the fabric of her shirt. He looked down at her, his face serious but a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“And since I’m not-courting you, I imagine you want to rejoin your family. I think all the other ladies here have gotten the message by now that I’m not interested in them.”
She blushed. “What if… Just out of curiosity, what if I said that I wanted to come to your cabin tonight?”
He actually considered that thoughtfully.
“I would very regretfully decline for the moment, but take a rain check, on account of I need some more time to not-court you.”
“Oh. Interesting. Well, just so you know, you’re very good at not-courting.”
She got up quickly and walked away before she gave in to her impulse to crawl into his lap and lick his neck.
Chapter Eleven
The Granite Flats schoolhouse was located a block away from the town square. It was a nicely built structure with wooden clapboard siding and a peaked roof, painted bright red and with a big sign out front that said “Little Red Schoolhouse.” Wooden barrels with geraniums were set on either side of the front door.
Sarah, John, Sailor and Mary stood outside the school and stared at the door as if it were the maw of a beast, ready to swallow them alive.
As Miles had promised, a burly wolf shifter named Jefferson was stationed at the door for security. He was sitting on a folding chair, reading a magazine, but there was an air of watchfulness about him, and Dakota had no doubt that he was aware of everything in the vicinity.
“Not only do we have to go to school, but we have to get here early?” Sarah whined for the twentieth time.
“Oh, woe is you. I have never heard of such abuse.”
Sarah scowled at her. “I know you’re being sarcastic, but you’re actually telling the truth. Have I mentioned that I’m not a morning person?”
“Only a million times. Let’s go.” Dakota pointed at the doorway.
They balked.
