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Magnolia was holding a dustpan in one hand and wearing the most self-satisfied I knew it smirk I’d ever seen.
“I would like to tell you I didn’t see anything.” She dumped the contents of the pan in the trash, little pearl buttons clattering into the bag. “But I’d be lying.” Then she pointed at Wilder, winked, and gave me two thumbs-up.
“Shush, you.”
“I suppose I should be grateful you guys only broke a coffee table. Beds are way harder to assemble.”
A small snort of laughter from beside me announced Wilder’s introduction into the conversation. With one eye half open he assessed the area around us, then peeked under the blanket and over at Magnolia.
“I see,” he said, as if just now realizing she must have been the one to cover us.
She lifted her hands in the air in an exaggerated stop motion. “It’s not my fault you guys couldn’t make it to a bedroom. I’m here every morning. Your cute butt wasn’t what I expected to see when I walked in, either.” Without another word she put the broom back against the wall and stepped through the side door out into the yard.
She wouldn’t go far, but I appreciated that I didn’t need to figure out how to hide Wilder and keep myself decent with Magnolia standing over us.
As it was I felt a flush of shyness, realizing he and I were totally naked under the blanket together.
He brushed a few strands of hair off my forehead and smiled at me lazily, with the kind of contented warmth that gave me the impression he couldn’t be happier to be lying here with me. I touched his face, his nose, his mouth, then kissed him gently.
“You didn’t even need to take me on a first date. Does that make me easy?” I smirked as I said it, but a small part of me worried.
“Easy?” He chuckled and looped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him, his whole body warm and soft.
Well, one part wasn’t all that soft.
“There’s nothing easy about you, Princess.” He planted a few slow, sweet kisses on me, and I was briefly tempted to go for another round, until I remembered Magnolia was about ten feet on the other side of the door and would hear everything.
Not to mention we still had a whole litany of problems that hadn’t gone away just because we’d had some great—no, amazing—sex.
“I still want a date.” I got up, taking the blanket with me, giving him an appraising once-over as I stood. Yup, impressive indeed.
“Don’t suppose you have a shirt I could wear?” He was looking past me to the ribbons of his button-down that had been reduced to flannel streamers decorating my entertainment center.
“Sure.” Cash had left a few things behind when he’d collected his stuff, including a cozy gray sweater I’d all but claimed as my own. I thought of it more as mine than Cash’s now anyway.
Wilder followed me into the bedroom, holding our balled-up jeans under his arm. He, like most shapeshifters, had no shame whatsoever about flaunting his nakedness. Bare-assed, he started poking around my bedroom, abandoning the denim bundle on the bed. I watched him for a minute, because if an ass that fine is in your line of view, you take the time to appreciate it, then collected the sweater from a bottom drawer and left it out for him.
I showered first and was already dressed and puttering around in the kitchen with Magnolia when Wilder emerged again. His hair was fluffy, free of product, and he smelled sweeter than normal thanks to my coconut-vanilla shampoo and Dove soap. Definitely not the same hypermasculine scent he usually radiated.
Maybe this would help me keep my paws off him for a little while.
Probably not.
With my coffee refreshed and no naked werewolves to distract me, I sat at the kitchen table with Mags and opened up the Big Book of Demons Santiago had given me the night before. Mags had her laptop out and was responding to emails from the pack, periodically asking for my input or opinion on various concerns. Because the death hadn’t hit the papers, there wasn’t too much of a panic yet, but Magnolia was ready to nip any problems in the bud before they became bigger issues.
I had no clue how I’d functioned before her.
Since my kitchen table was too small to comfortably seat three, especially with the enormous book and a laptop on it, Wilder jumped up onto the kitchen counter, reached over his shoulder to get a mug, and poured himself a coffee while he watched us work.
Ours was a peculiar little family, but somehow this felt absolutely perfect.
Each page of the book included a description of a demon, along with drawings. Some of the write-ups had more than one image, showing a face and a body or unique characteristics, while others just had a rudimentary sketch. I was guessing some were based on word-of-mouth accounts and stories, while others had been witnessed in person by the author.
With every new creature I found yet another reason I’d never sleep again.
Wilder, who had a clear view of the book over my shoulder, said, “Does that thing have a penis for a tongue?” He nonchalantly sipped his coffee.
Since I couldn’t read the Latin descriptions, there was no way to be sure, but it absolutely looked as if this particular demon had a tongue made out of seven dicks.
