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“And how exactly did you come to that conclusion less than five minutes after making their acquaintance? Are you psychic as well as gifted with the ability to converse with my cat?”
“No.” She stops, turning to look up at me with an amused expression. “But they’re gay, Darcy.”
I huff. “They most certainly are not. Paul was married until his wife left him a few years back. They have three children.”
She nods with exaggerated patience. “Yes, I know. But now Paul is gay for Trevor and Trevor is gay for Paul and it’s a huge scandal because the wolf pack is apparently still pretty ass-backwards about same sex relationships. A bunch of beta wolves have been challenging Paul, trying to take over as Alpha, but he keeps kicking their asses because he’s a boss and knows they would be shit leaders and let his people down. Meanwhile, the tigers don’t give a shit who sleeps with who but some of their people are cranky about Trevor spending so much time with werewolves because werewolves are notoriously closed minded and have a rep for bullying people into doing things their way and intimidating voters before town meetings.”
“They prefer the term wolf shifter,” I mutter, stunned.
She snaps her fingers and squeezes her eyes closed for a beat. “Right. Sorry. There’s so much to remember.”
“No need to apologize,” I say, glancing back toward the woods where Trevor and Paul are emerging with a giant log balanced between them, laughing over some shared joke.
Suddenly, it’s so clear they’re more than just friends that I can’t believe I didn’t realize their relationship had changed.
But there’s something even more troubling than my own ignorance…
“How did you know? I ask. “About the two of them? You’ve only been in town for three weeks.”
“A month actually, but I didn’t know until this afternoon. I spent the day at the hair salon,” she says, as if that explains everything. She must read my confused expression because she adds, “Women talk when they’re getting their hair done. Like, really talk. By the time they get to the shampoo station, all the dirt is coming out. If you’re looking for gossip, the salon is the place to go.” She nods toward the men over my shoulder. “If you’d told me their names, I could have spared you the trouble of showing up early. But you just said they were elder shifters so…”
I curse softly. “This is bad. Not for the two of them, obviously. They seem well-suited. But that’s two town elders who are off the table as potential matches for Annie.”
“Right. About that…” She trails off, nibbling her bottom lip in a way that makes me want to do the same.
It doesn’t help that the wind has shifted direction and her scent is now wafting directly into my face, making me vow to down a glass of blood as soon as they open the bar. I need something to take the edge off before I drag her back into the woods and do something I shouldn’t.
I really, really shouldn’t, I remind myself as Blaire steps closer, tipping her head back until her gaze is fixed on mine and her throat is bare and defenseless.
Chapter Seven
Darcy
“You gave me an idea. Before.” Blaire’s tongue sweeps out to dampen her lips, sending another wave of longing surging to places it shouldn’t. “When you were kissing my neck.”
“I wasn’t kissing it. I brushed my lips across your skin to leave my mark behind.”
Her lips twist. “I’m pretty sure ‘brushing your lips across someone’s skin’ is the textbook definition of a kiss, but that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” I ask, telling myself it’s the failure of our plan making me grouchy, not the fact that it’s taking every ounce of willpower I possess to keep from not-kissing her again.
“The point is that we have chemistry,” she says, her cheeks flushing pink. “I know you felt it, too, so don’t bother trying to deny it. Vampire fangs only get pointy when they’re pissed or turned on and you definitely weren’t pissed. I’ve seen you angry.”
I press my lips together, cursing this woman’s curious mind and obvious knack for gathering information. “Perhaps, but hopefully I don’t need to explain to you what a bad idea it would be for us to act on that chemistry.”
“Oh, absolutely,” she says, laughing as she adds, “It would be a nightmare. We’d kill each other.”
“Exactly,” I say, my shoulders relaxing.
Maybe she’s not mad, after all.
“Yeah, we’re a terrible match in pretty much every way, but the rest of the town doesn’t know that,” she says. “The only person who knows I find you obnoxious is Annie.” She lifts a finger into the air. “But she also knows that I have a habit of hating men right up until the moment I decide to bang their brains out.”
“Really?”
She shrugs. “It’s a problem. I’m working on it. But what I’m saying is she won’t be suspicious. At least not for very long. If we start acting like we can’t keep our hands off of each other, she’ll buy it.”
My forehead is so twisted at this point I’m pretty sure I could hide small woodland creatures in the furrows. “Why on earth would we—”
