Page 6 of Cold Foot Croc

“I don’t know,” he blurted out. “Maybe.”

“Do you want me to wait on your porch? You can go to the woods.”

“I don’t think…I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about this stuff.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, Reed told me.”

She frowned. Garret was learning shifter rules from Reed? “Where is your Maker?” she asked.

“This way,” he said, and turned abruptly. He strode through the perfect snow of his yard and disappeared around the corner of the house. Okay?

She stepped carefully in his huge boot prints so she didn’t mess up his yard any extra. Slowly, she picked her way down the length of his side yard and to his backyard. It was fenced in on the sides, shielding his yard from the neighbors, but the back was unfenced. Smart. He had direct access to the woods.

“I don’t remember the fences from before,” she said conversationally as he set her jacket over a length of porch railing. The wood looked new, both on the big back porch and the fence. “Are you trying to block the neighbor’s view of your property?”

“No. I’m trying to block my view of theirs. That one in particular,” he said, pointing in the direction of Sasha’s yard.

“Why?” she asked, climbing the stairs to stand beside him.

“I died there,” he said simply.

Oh gosh. Her heart pounded as she looked up at him. His eyes were trained in the exact direction she remembered hisgrizzly’s body had been lying in the red snow just a few weeks ago. He looked haunted. “That must’ve been hard to see all the time.”

“Not anymore. The blood is all gone now, and I blocked it with the fence,” he said gruffly. “This is my porch—”

“Why didn’t you kill that Komodo dragon?” she asked suddenly. She’d wondered that. She’d seen him, seen his animal…he was monstrous. He could’ve taken Farrah, so why didn’t he?

“She was a woman.” His frown at her said he thought it should’ve been common sense.

“An evil woman.”

“She talked to me before she showed up here. She called me and talked to me. It was nice, and I thought she was nice.” His lips ticked up into an empty smile to match the faraway look in his eyes. “She turned out to be not-so-nice.”

Stunned, Raynah watched him walk across the porch and begin giving her a tour. He was surprising. He’d risked it all to fight Farrah just to give Raynah and Sasha a chance to get away, but he’d refused to kill her. He’d let her kill him instead?

Huh.

Men weren’t like this. This wasn’t right. They weren’t nice like this. This was some kind of angle, and she would figure out his game.

“This is some porch railing, and this is the part I messed up and have to tear down and re-do, and here is a nail that I bent and need to fix, and here is the squeaky board that drives me nuts, and…” He went on picking apart his work, but honestly? The porch looked perfect—like a professional carpenter had done it. Perhaps he was some kind of perfectionist.

“I want to get some chairs and set them right there. Two of them,” he said, pointing to a big open area. “And a barbecue grillwhen it gets warmer. I’m good on the grill. It’s cold as hell out here right now though, so I mostly use the oven.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Salmon,” he answered without hesitation.

“Ha.” She thought he was making a grizzly bear joke, but his face remained open and honest. “Oh, fish is my favorite too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Fish is first, and steak is a close second. And lately, chocolate-covered raisins are a close third. And potato chips.” She scrunched up her face. “And peanut-butter-banana sandwiches drizzled in honey, with crunched up saltine crackers over the top. And canned clams, but with the juice drained and garlic and parmesan cheese mixed into it and baked in an oven.”

“Does the baby need food?” he asked.

Her mouth was watering just thinking about all of her pregnancy cravings. “Oh, I’m fine. I have some snacks in my truck.”

---