Page 55 of The Thief

My eyebrows arched. “You shift in your sleep?”

“No. But my wolf wants to protect you, and I can’t keep him down much longer.”

I curved my fingers around his neck and brushed my knee high enough that he groaned.

Bear looked at me with ravenous eyes. “Maybe he can wait a little longer.”

Chapter 10

A wolf barking startled me awake. I sat up, disoriented, assessing the danger. Bear’s red wolf ferociously barked at the bedroom door. When he stood on his hind legs, his enormous body filled the doorframe. Bear told me he could remember up to five or ten minutes after he shifted, but from his wolf’s erratic behavior, he must have shifted earlier in the night.

I collected my panties from the floor and slipped them on. As I stood, his wolf tackled me, and I fell onto the bed.

“Dang, you’re heavier than Bear.” I stroked his head while he licked my arm. He looked happy and alarmed all at once.

When a gun fired, he turned on beast mode and ran to the door.

Before he stripped the wood away with his toenails, I opened the door. Bear’s wolf shot to the left and skidded to a stop by the back door while barking incessantly.

“What mischief is this?” Virgil appeared in the kitchen entryway to my right. His black kimono flashed open, revealing black bikini briefs. While he crunched on a spoonful of cereal, his eyes skimmed over my scantily clad body. He gave me a crooked grin. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play.”

I cringed when a gun fired again. “What in the world is going on?”

“Armageddon.”

“Y’all are going to give me a heart attack.” I marched down the hall, swung open the back door, and walked onto the deck. Bear shot past me and down the steps. Montana and Archer were firing their guns at tin cans propped on a tree stump. “Could y’all at least wait until I’ve had my coffee?”

Bear’s wolf darted into the field where Catcher was standing. Archer aimed his gun, but when he heard Tak’s horse whinnying in the stable, he lowered it and said something to Montana.

“Finally,” I murmured, heading back inside.

Virgil’s tousled hair covered half his face, and dribbles of milk clung to his chin as he slurped on his cereal. “Long night?”

I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot, which was half-full. After adding cream, I leaned against the kitchen island and looked around. We had a beautiful kitchen. Bear had started a little herb garden by the window in cute long planters. The orange Spanish tile warmed up the room, as did the wood beams across the ceilings.

“Ignoring me won’t work, Shortcake.” Virgil set his bowl in the sink across from me. “I hope you two don’t plan on keeping it a secret from the Packmaster. It’s his obligation to know when packmates are”—Virgil simulated sex with two fingers moving in and out of a circle he made with his other hand—“doing the nasty.”

“What makes you think we were doing anything?”

His turquoise-colored eyes fixated on my chest. “Your gown’s on backwards.”

I glanced down at the tag, mortified when I realized he was right.

I could die. Right here and now on the kitchen floor.

At least it wasn’t one of those silky, revealing nighties. I needed to fix myself before anyone else came in and started asking questions.

As if reading my mind, Virgil turned around and washed his bowl. “You know what I think? Life is too short. When you see something you want, you gotta grab it by the balls.” While he didn’t laugh, the amusement in his voice was dancing like Fred Astaire.

After adjusting my nightie, I slurped my coffee, not certain how much Virgil needed to know. “Bear was protecting me.”

“With his naked body,” he quipped. “Why didn’t you glaze the donut up in your bedroom? I needed something to lull me to sleep.” Virgil spun around and propped his elbows on the edge of the sink. He jutted his hips forward, his robe sliding open. “Did he make your loins quiver?”

When Virgil gave me a devilish grin, a dimple appeared on his cheek. His sexy lips were trouble with a capital T, and no doubt he’d charmed a lot of women against their good sense.

“You need to calm down,” I said flatly, hoping he’d drop the subject.

“Oh, come on. I’m intrigued by the odd pairing. He’s thrice your size. Who made the first move? Did you seduce him with your big grey eyes and come-hither smile, or did he make you a brownie?” Virgil raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “I’d have sex with Bear for one of his brownies. He drizzles raspberry sauce over the top. If Bear fucks as good as he cooks, you’re a lucky woman.”