Page 44 of Fake It ’Til You Mate It

Ah, how cute. He doesn’t even know that we could be mated one day, but already we’ve had our first spat as an almost couple.

Max wanted to send me right back to the cabin. He even pulled the Gus card, asking me if I wouldn’t feel better if I could assure myself that the face I saw in the window hadn’t double-backed and gone after my opossum once I’d chased after Max.

I told him the truth. I told him that, now that he put the idea in my head, I was going back for Gus, but—and it was a big but—if he continued to search for clues without me, then I’d grab Gus and we’d do a little sleuthing of our own.

He pointed out that he’s the Alpha and has the right to lock me in the cabin.

I smile and said he could try. I might be a prey shifter. I’ll give him that. I’m not a powerless human who will stay put because the Alpha flashed his high beams at me.

He unscrewed his jaw enough to say, “Please”.

That almost did it, I admit it. If I didn’t care for Max, I would’ve folded. Only I do care, and maybe it was my anxiety flaring up, but I’d convinced myself that, if I wasn’t there to watch Max’s back, something terrible would happen.

Did I forget that he’s the most powerful predator in Moonburrow? Nah. Could he have sent up another howl, gathering some of the higher-ranked wolves to join us on the search? Of course.

Did he do that?

No. I don’t know why, and I wasn’t about to question it. He gave in. He was still going to do a quick hunt through his immediate territory, and if I wanted to come along, I could.

And if he muttered something about at least he’ll know where I am if I stay with him, I’m sure he’s just taking his Alpha responsibilities super seriously…

We do go back to the cabin. We’re near enough that he wants to do another check to see if the unknown wolf double=backed, and I want to make sure Gus really is okay. Max decides that, if I’ll be his shadow, he’ll stay in his skin. He takes two minutes to get dressed, including putting on shoes.

I decided to do the same, trading my pajamas for a dark green long-sleeved shirt, black leggings, my sneakers, and, ugh, even a bra.

It’s harder to leave Gus behind this time, but to my surprise, it’s Max who explains to my opossum that Gus needs to stay behind and hold down the fort. I swear to Fate, Gus salutes Max before positioning himself in the middle of the rumpled bed I’d been sleeping in.

Max closes the door, gives me a chance to stay behind, and huffs when I smile sweetly, telling him to lead the way.

CHAPTER 13

A CLUE

Where did Mother go now?

And why did she leave Gus Behind? Again?

— gus

It’s not very easy doing this sleuthing in the woods when you have a six-foot tall Alpha so close, you feel like he’d climb into your skin to keep you safe. I get being overprotective. That’s part of the whole ‘being a packmate’ thing; if he wasn’t concerned with a weaker packmate under his protection, he’d be a shit Alpha. Max Lobo isn’t a shit anything, and right now he’s doing a brilliant impression of a bodyguard.

I wish I could let myself enjoy it. That he was acting this way because he was my mate, and my safety was the most important thing in this world to him. But since I made this mess and have to wait to see it through to the end, it’s getting a little frustrating.

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” I finally tell him when I… I just can’t take it anymore.

“Doing what?”

“Hovering. Growling at twigs. Acting like I’m going to trip over my own shadow and break my neck.”

He’s quiet long enough that I have to wonder if he’s ignoring me. Then, in a gruff voice that breaks the silence of the woods: “You might. You’re a trouble magnet, Killer. If something like that does that happen, I’d rather be there when you do. Maybe I can catch you.”

And maybe my heart flip-flops to hear him say that.

I stop, turning on my heel so that I can look at Max’s profile. The hint of moonlight overhead catches the golden glint in his eye, softening his sharp features.

“It’s not control, Honey,” he says, voice low. “It’s instinct. You walk into danger, I follow. Every damn time. If you want to follow me, I’ll slow down so that you can keep the pace.”

He sounds almost frustrated, like he doesn’t understand why he can’t keep himself from chasing after me—or letting me stay by his side while we search for a possible killer who, for all my teasing, is definitely not me.