Page 15 of Warlander Beast Cat

Searching frantically around the porch, she bolted down the stairs and sank down into the rickety porch swing that she’d set beside her single-wide trailer. She tried three different positions, trying for nonchalant, but as she saw the nose of his truck appear over the hill, she panicked, made a weird squeak in her throat, and pretended to be fixing the swing. It wasn’t even broken.

She thought Kru would drive right past and park in front of his trailer on the edge of the trees as he always did, but today, he pulled to a stop in front of her trailer.

“Is something wrong with the swing?” he asked out his open window. The gravel of his voice settled over her skin like a purr.

She stood and forced a smile. “Oh, it’s just a little…creaky.”

“I have something that’ll fix it.” He hopped out of his truck, and she looked him up and down as he headed to the bed of the truck. He wore dark brown tactical pants and scuffed boots with a layer of dried mud on the soles. His dark hair was hidden by a burgundy beanie, and a black T-shirt clung to the stark curves of his muscular shoulders. His dark skin was smudged with dirt, and as he turned to pull down the tailgate of his truck, she saw the reserve in his eyes.

“You look lost in thought,” she observed as she approached.

“It was a long day.”

“Waaaant to talk about it?”

He puffed air out of his cheeks as he shook up a can of WD40 he’d drawn from a toolbox in the back of his truck. “Lease fell through, Gunner confuses the shit out of me, and when I went to town for some groceries, this lady and her kids switched to a different checkout line because she figured out I was a shifter.”

“Your eyes gave it away?” she guessed.

Kru nodded. “It’s been awhile since anyone looked at me like that.”

“It’s a gross feeling.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, it was.”

“What’s this?” she asked, fiddling with a plaque that read Norman Nutsack lives here. It was sitting just outside of a plastic bag in the bed of his truck.

“It’s a present for Jenna. She named her mouse.”

Cadence snorted. “She named him Norman Nutsack?”

“Well, technically I named him.”

“She let you name it?”

“No. I made the plaque though, and I’m going to call him Norman so much that it sticks, so I’m calling it. He has a name.”

He wasn’t even joking. She waited for the punch line but it never came, so a giggle escaped her. “That’s the worst name.”

“It could be worse.”

“How could it possibly be worse?”

“His name could be Coochie Spider. That was on my list.”

“Oh my gosh! Gross!” She scrunched up her face and looked at the little plaque again. “Norman sounds way better.”

“You have to say both names. Norman. Nutsack.”

Cadence rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile. He didn’t need the encouragement. “Want me to put this on her porch?”

“Sure. Can you put that bag on Lucia’s porch?” he asked, pointing to a small brown bag. “I’ll fix the swing.”

She watched him walk away. God, that man was fine. She’d always thought he was hot, but lately, he was even more attractive. It was probably the delinquent in her that was attracted to red flags. Kru was a walking, talking red flag.

She took the brown paper bag to the porch of 1010. Curiosity definitely had this cat. Look inside, her tiger whispered.

Cadence glanced over her shoulder. Kru had his back to her, spraying something on the swing.

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