Page 11 of Moonlight's Mate
“I’ll take you down.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll—”
“I’m going that way anyway.” He gave her a steady look, not a challenge—not quite. And then he slowly cocked one brow.
She stiffened. “Wait here.”
He leaned against the railing while he drank his good coffee and admired the shimmering lake and the impressive amount of noise she made banging around her office, muttering something about Alphas.
He took another savoring sip. She should know.
Chapter 4
Merrilee finally found the key where it had been long lost in the bottom of a haphazard ceramic pot made by one of the pack’s kids. The pot was decorated with small handprints on the outside…and slightly smaller paw prints on the inside. Though most of the mountain children were bused out daily to attend school with town werelings and unaware humans, the youngsters still needed an outlet for their furrier sides.
Was the wandering imp a sign that the fae had decided to mainstream?
She made a quick call to Keisha, updating her Beta, then tromped out to the porch where Beck looked far too comfortable. And far too sexy, his dark gear contrasting with her red carnations. The scent of leather and coffee and cold wind whispered to her, and she tried to ignore the way her body wanted to fit itself to his, as if they were already leaning into the curves of the mountain road. She refused to look at him as she locked up.
However, refusing his offered ride would be pointless. And weak. And she didn’t want that.
She turned. “Ready?”
He took one more pull off his coffee, bottom’s up, and then tucked the mug behind the newel of the porch stairs. “Thanks for that. You make it just right.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s nothing. I just have a very expensive coffeemaker.”
He sighed. “Can’t you just say ‘You’re welcome’?”
“Not when you’re really saying I’m a good little woman in the kitchen.”
“I’ve seen your kitchen now, remember? I think you’ve only used one of those stove burners, ever.”
“How many burners do you need to warm up soup?”
He shook his head. “No wonder you come to the bar so often, just so I can make you burgers.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “I had a very nice Kobe filet in New York.”
To her surprise, a flash of hurt darkened his eyes before he turned to go down the steps. If they hadn’t been so close together on the small porch, she wouldn’t have noticed.
“No exotic beef here,” he said. “But if you want a sniff of dead imp before it’s gone, we better get moving.”
Despite his long, angry strides, she lingered.
She hadn’t meant his burgers weren’t good. He knew his way around raw meat, knew how to throw on a quick sear and then be patient, letting the juices simmer. She’d meant that she didn’t go to his bar just because he fed her. She went for…other reasons. She respected his leadership and knew he’d tell her all the valley gossip. Plus, he was always quick with a smile that made her feel better after being too long away from her mountains. And he did look mighty fine, whether he was in an apron or one of his bar T-shirts or his leathers like right now.
Actually, he looked mighty,mightyfine right now. And mighty dangerous.
He started the Harley with a roar that echoed inside her. He gave her an impassive look before pulling on his helmet and holding a second out to her. The darkened visor cut off any further fulminating stares.
She stalked toward him, zipping her coat. The strap on the helmet fit just right under her chin, as if it had been sized for her.
He twisted around to help her mount, but she avoided his hand and slid up into place behind him, settling her hands primly at his waist.
His flanks jerked under her fingers as he caught his breath in surprise. As if he thought she’d never been on a bike before. Well, she hadn’t, but she’d thought about it. Maybe dreamed about it, once or twice.
The fae queen could’ve discovered all sorts of crazy powers on the primal strength of those dreams.
