Page 50 of Chaos At Second Sight

“I am ready to have great-grandpups!” Grandpa retorted. “As long as you wed first.”

“Oh, hush you,” Grandma said. I cringed, my hand on the doorknob. “Don’t pressure her, Ian!” Then she turned to me. “We are ready whenever you are, rionnag. But the sooner the better! Your pups will demand a lot of energy considering how many sheep your mate ate in just a few days. Better have them while you’re still young!” She looked at the door with a small chuckle. Probably because she, like everyone else, knew Logan could hear perfectly well from outside the door.

“Yeah, and who knows when our captain here will find his mate and give birth to the next wereball team?” A whole new round of teasing bombarded Lachlan. He slumped further and further in his chair now that he was at the center of our family’s intense attention.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I rushed outside and closed the door behind me, palms on the wood. I took one deep breath, then turned.

Logan was leaning with a shoulder against the wall, his head tilted just enough for that amused smile to confirm my suspicion. He’d heard everything.

And, of course, my foot caught on one of the thousands of rugs lining the packhouse and I pitched forward. Before my werewolf reflex could kick in, a hand was already snatching my arm, another steadying my waist.

The sparks didn’t help here. Wonderful. Great entrance for the first time my mate and I are being civil.

“You okay?” he asked, sounding almost as nervous as I felt.

“Sorry I’m late.” I glanced at the door. It was somehow ajar. “My family…dropped by to say hello.”

“No worries.” Logan looked past me. “I was talking to Angus and…Gregory?” His brows furrowed. “Or Dorian?”

I laughed. “Gregory. My second cousin.”

“Logan!” Aunt Caro’s voice rang out behind us. “Come see my collection of taxidermied weasels!”

“Aunt Caro,” I groaned, “no one wants to see your weasels.”

Logan grinned at me. “I do!”

Ten minutes and ten taxidermied mustelids later, we finally left the packhouse.

A window cracked open above us. “Oi, Yvaine!”

I stiffened.

“Make sure you mark him on the left!” Uncle Knox shouted. “Statistics say it’s more visible!”

Right. Because someone has definitely published research on mating marks.

“Has anyone really studied that?” Logan voiced my exact thought.

I pushed a stray curl out of my face. “Embarrassing nieces is my uncle’s favorite hobby.”

“We will!” Logan called back with an easy smile. When he looked back at me, it vanished. “I-I was joking…” He scratched his head.

“Oh! I know.” I laughed far too loudly and slapped his shoulder like we were lifelong buddies. He glanced at the spot I’d touched, then at me.

Could I be any more awkward?

“Want to get some fresh air?” I proposed. We were already outside.

Yes, I can be.

Logan didn’t answer, too busy staring at me, and the longer he stared, the hotter my cheeks became.

“Just kiss already!”

I sucked in a breath.

Logan grazed his thumb along the side of his nose, huffing a laugh. “I think we have an audience.”