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“Trevor didn’t tell you,” he says slowly.
“Uh, Trevor didn’t tell me what?”
Cody sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters. He looks out the window and back at me.
“What didn’t Trevor tell me?” I ask. Surely whatever he’s going to say isn’t that bad. I mean, unless he’s going to tell me that they’re all secretly married, but what does that have to do with scent?
And why would he use that word?
Nobody ever says, “I can scent you.”
People say things like, “I can smell you,” or “you look really turned on,” or “you feel so wet.”
But, “I can scent you?”
No.
Never.
Then it hits me.
“You’re a fucking shifter,” I say, gasping.
“What?” Cody gets a deer-in-headlights sort of look on his face and he shakes his head.
“That explains so much,” I say. “Shifters tend to mate in groups and they tend to mate for life. You and your brothers are all single because you were waiting for the right mate and you think it’s me.”
Cody just gawks at me, so I know I’m right.
Wow, I’m never right.
It feels kind of good.
But it’s also a totally weird realization. I’ve known about shifters for forever. I mean, my late husband was a bear shifter and my daughter is a half-shifter. She should be able to shift in a few years. Right now, she’s all girl, but she’s been feeling closer and closer to the bear inside of her. We talk about it sometimes. I think part of the reason Rebecca is so creative is because there’s another part of her. She really does see the world in a new, wonderful, and different way.
She really does view the world as a wonderous thing because of her shifting side.
But how didn’t I see it before?
I mean, it can’t get much more obvious than the name?
Claw?
Come on.
“It’s okay,” I say, patting him on the leg. “It’s fine.”
Cody is silent and just looks at me. I laugh and put the car in drive. Then I pull out of the parking lot and get back on the road.
“But you’re going to have to start speaking soon, love,” I tell him. “Because I have no idea where your house is.”
Still silent, he manages to point me in the right direction, and I drive. We’re quiet the rest of the way, but it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. All of this is going to be okay.
I’m about to make love to shifters.
Not just one or two, but three shifters who think I’m their mate.
