Page 13 of Shift Faced

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe muttered, narrowing his eyes. “How the hell do you sneak up on a Jaguar?”

Bruce shrugged—or at least gave the feline version of one. “Clearly, you’re slipping. I could’ve sliced you to ribbons with these.” He held up a paw dramatically, flashing his not-so-impressive claws. “Lethal weapons, my friend.”

Rafe gave him a flat stare. “You come at me with those toothpicks, and I’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

Bruce snorted. “Easy, killer. I’m just saying...get your head out of your ass. I’m counting on you to watch Billie Ann’s back when I’m not around. She’s strong, yeah, but she’s also the type who runs into a burning building to save a drunk raccoon.”

Rafe didn’t reply right away, his jaw tight, eyes going distant as they drifted toward the trailer. “No one’s going to touch her. Not while I’m breathing.”

“Good,” Bruce said, sitting back like he’d just concluded a business meeting. “Glad we’re clear.”

Before Rafe could respond, the front door of the bar swung open behind them, and Billie Ann stepped outside.

Both males turned as Billie Ann stepped out onto the porch. She was barefoot and still tugging her hair into some kind of messy bun, wearing a threadbare T-shirt with a faded band logo and a pair of old cut-off shorts. It wasn’t some sexy outfit designed to make a man drool, but damn if it didn’t short-circuit Rafe’s brain on sight.

There was nothing deliberate about the way she looked. No makeup, no effort, just raw, natural Billie Ann, and it hit him harder than any woman ever had in a cocktail dress and heels.

It wasn’t about the clothes. It was her. All of her.

And Bruce was right. His head was so far up his own ass, it was a miracle he could still breathe. He dragged a hand down his face and muttered under his breath, “Get it together, man.”

Behind him, Bruce made a soft coughing sound that suspiciously sounded like a chuckle.

“Oh, good, you’re both up,” she said cheerfully, brushing her wild hair out of her face. “There’s bacon and eggs if you want some before I start on the inventory.”

Rafe blinked. “ Uh-yeah. Sure. Ah, thanks.”

“Good answer,” Bruce snorted, giving Rafe a side-eyed glance. “Real smooth, Romeo.”

“Shut up, Bruce,” Rafe hissed, giving him a burning glare that said he would kill him without a second thought.

Bruce stretched with a purr, ignoring Rafe’s warning glare. “No bacon for me, but I’ll take some scrambled eggs, light on the scramble.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “I remember how you like your eggs, Bruce. It hasn’t been that long.”

As she disappeared back into the bar, Rafe watched her go, his eyes glued to her ass in those cut-off shorts. Fuck!

Bruce snickered. “You didn’t even realize she left the trailer, did you?”

Rafe scowled not answering that question because he was pissed at the answer. He hadn’t noticed and that was a fucking problem.

Bruce flicked his tail. “Damn, man. You’ve got itbad.I saw those googly eyes you were giving her. Better sharpen those instincts before someone else sneaks up on you. Like love. Or worse...feelings.” Bruce made a gagging sound.

“Shut the fuck up, Bruce,” Rafe snapped, throwing the door open so hard it banged against the wall. His boots hit the floor likewarning shots. “Do you ever stop talking, or is your mouth on some kind of dark magic loop?”

Bruce didn’t flinch as he followed Rafe inside. “What can I say? I'm gifted. Also, you're welcome. Someone’s got to provide commentary for the brooding, lovesick hero vibe you got going on.”

Rafe stopped dead in his tracks, his body going rigid. The low, guttural sound that rumbled from deep in his chest wasn’t human. It was his Jaguar—pure, primal, and not amused.

Bruce, mid-step with one paw comically raised like he was sneaking through a cartoon, froze in place. His eyes went wide, tail puffing out slightly as his gaze snapped to Rafe.

“Do you want to die?” Rafe growled, his voice a lethal rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

Bruce blinked. “Not particularly,” he squeaked, then cleared his throat and tried for casual. “I mean, I’ve got nine lives, but I’m trying not to waste them all in one day.”

Rafe turned toward him fully, eyes glowing just enough to make Bruce take a slow, silent step backward.

“Was it something I said?” Bruce asked carefully, as if approaching a bomb with a butter knife.

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