Page 2 of The Thief

She shut the closet door and leaned against it. “I know what you mean. When I left Dax, I had five minutes to decide what to pack. Then I realized none of it mattered except my sketches and photographs. Even Montana didn’t have much, since he traveled extensively for work. It’s nice starting over from scratch.” She crossed the room and offered her hand. “Let’s go see what Bear cooked for us tonight.”

I smacked my lips just thinking about it. I’d never met anyone who could whip up a meal as tasty as my mama’s home cooking. Not until Bear. He had a natural talent, and I tasted the love he put into his food.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Montana ran into us and stopped to kiss his lady.

“How’s my girl?” he asked between kisses. “I missed you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes. “Since thirty minutes ago?”

“Wanna skip dinner?” he asked in a deep, growly register. His hands gripped her behind, and he walked her into a wall.

“You are worse than a wolf in heat,” she said after another kiss.

They were absolutely smitten with each other, still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Despite his serious demeanor, Montana was easygoing and brought out Robyn’s silly side. Robyn was serious and introspective, but their personalities complemented each other like peanut butter and jelly.

Leaving them to smooch in the hallway, I turned left toward the corner kitchen. Upon entering, I passed the large hearth on my right, which was on the wall connecting to Bear’s bedroom. Does he have a fireplace too?

Through the arched entryway ahead, the cavernous dining room easily accommodated a growing pack. Just to the left of the entrance were three square tables we used for late-night drinks or card games. They were less formal than the two long oak tables where we had our meals. The dark stain on the wood matched the ceiling and floor. Thanks to the recessed lighting, the ambience at night was that of a romantic getaway.

“Who put up those pretty lights?” I asked, noticing a string of decorative lights around the long row of windows.

“Guilty as charged,” Hope said from behind me. “Aren’t they charming? It’s so gloomy in here at night because of the dark windows. Some restaurants in Austin have patio lights, so that gave me the idea.” She patted her hair, which was pinned up in a bun for a change, and studied the table setting. “Do we have toothpicks?”

From across the table, Archer scooted back his chair as if given an order.

Hope gestured for him to stay seated. “Stay there. I’ll get them.”

The Arrowhead pack didn’t have assigned seats. Not yet, anyhow. It was first come, first served. I liked that much better because it gave everyone a chance to get to know one another. Since all fourteen of us fit at one table, we rarely spread out.

Freshly picked sunflowers filled two clear vases, their yellow petals adding color and cheer to the setting. Tak often picked them for his mate, and by her blushing smile each time she accepted them, I guessed they held a special significance. Though several bowls of food were on the table, Bear still hadn’t presented the main course.

I yawned while pulling out the chair next to Joy. She was busy untying the belt on her pink floral robe, which she wore over her clothes.

“I feel like a car that’s run out of gas,” I said, slumping in my seat.

Joy put her arm around me in a motherly fashion. “You look exhausted. Maybe you should go to bed early.”

“I might do that.” I yawned again, this time more noisily.

Virgil rolled a grape between two fingers from the chair opposite me. He had tied back his hair, but a few wisps hung loosely, as if they were strategically pulled free. It was a dirty shade of blond with warm-brown hues mixed in. Most of the time, he just styled it with his fingers. “If you keep doing that, Shortcake, I’ll toss one of these in your mouth. Stop yawning. It’s contagious.”

“What do you care?”

“We’re going to Dragonfly’s after dinner. Drinks are half-price. Lakota’s lending us his truck, and Krys is the designated driver.” He clapped Krys on the shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”

Krys grumbled while setting his glass of water down. He slanted his arctic-blue eyes toward Virgil before stroking his goatee.

Virgil, who was sandwiched between the two cousins, grinned smugly. “You lost the coin toss, my friend.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t bitch about it,” Krys growled.

“You don’t need booze to have a good time,” Virgil countered, his smile thinly veiled.

“Says the man who gets wrecked every time we go out.”

Virgil leaned his head back and looked at Krys’s waist. “You should go upstairs and change before we leave.”

“What the hell for?”

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