Page 24 of Fake It ’Til You Mate It

Sure, she teased me when we were younger. When I got my first crush on a porcupine shifter, she made sure to tell him—then later went with him to the end of school dance. She also got into a very fierce catfight with a, well, cat when a stray chased me home during an unexpected shift. I ended up falling over, playing dead in my actual opossum shape, and if Roxy hadn’t intercepted the hungry tom, that might’ve been it for me. Instead, she shifted to her raccoon, beat the shit out of the cat until it ran off our turf, then moaned about how I owed her twenty bucks because the shift ruined her favorite vintage tee.

We have a past, and though Roxy Kane was the last person I expected to see in Moonburrow, a couple of pilfered pastries now and then is a fair price to pay to feel like someone has my back.

Even if I might claw out her yellow eyes if I really thought she was hitting on Max instead of doing the Roxy special of just making everyone around us uncomfortable…

“She doesn’t respect me as her Alpha.” He frowns. “She doesn’t seem to respect you as her friend, either.”

I snort. “Roxy doesn’t respect anyone except Roxy.”

He tilts his head, a silent agreement to my very astute observation.

Oof. It’s such a simple gesture, but the way it shows off the thick column of his throat, the length of his eyelashes, and the power in his shoulders… uh-oh. I’m in trouble. Without Roxy to act as a buffer, I’m getting the full blast of the sheriff—and my inner opossum is perking up, begging for his attention.

Down, girl. He’s the sheriff. Right now, after what happened yesterday, I don’t think I want his attention… not if that’s all he can be to me.

Sheriff, I tell myself. He’s the sheriff⁠—

“So what brings you by?” I ask. Okay. It comes out more like a squeak, but the sooner I understand the reason why he’s here, the sooner I can wave him out my door.

He gives his head a small clearing shake, like he forgot there was more to his visit than threatening to arrest Roxy.

“Right. Yes. I came over in person because I wanted to tell you that one of my team tested the cupcake. You were right. No magic.”

So he did get it tested? Phew. I knew it would help me prove my innocence.

“Oh, thank goodn⁠—”

“No magic,” he echoes. “Just straight shifter poison.”

I’m sorry. What?

Whoops. There I go. My knees wobble. My body locks. I’m just about to drop⁠—

“Easy, killer.” He grabs my arm, steadying me. “I got you.”

The dark spots on the edge of my vision vanish in an instant the moment his warm paw lands on my upper arm, nearly searing me through my shirt.

“You okay?”

Shockingly, I am. “Yeah. I think so. But… I didn’t do it. Whatever was in that cupcake, I didn’t put it there.”

He releases me. I bite back a sound of utter disappointment as he rumbles, “I know.”

Wait—

He does?

“You… do?” Relief rushes through me. I want to throw my arms around him, but that just might be my inner opossum talking, wanting a little more skin-to-skin contact with her mate. “Sheriff Lobo⁠—”

“Max.”

I startle. “What?”

Hands returning to the back pockets of his jeans, he shrugs. “You gave me permission to call you by your name. You’re one of mine now. I’m not just the sheriff. I’m your Alpha. I’m Max.”

If he actually means what he says, I should be calling him ‘Alpha’. It’s the proper way to address the leader of the pack, though not even Colin pushed us to use the term unless it was important. Opossums are almost as ungovernable as raccoons, mainly because we either hiss or drop. There is no in-between.

Only I didn’t drop. I thought I was seconds away from fainting, and then Sheriff Lobo—no, Max… he’s Max—hurriedly reached out, steadying my arm, and the light-headedness that precedes an entire Honey shutdown simply went away.