Page 45 of Just Right
I hold out my hand. He places the mug against my palm.
It’s warm, but the daring look Rowan gives me? That’s almostblistering.
I drink. He might be a bit of a hardass, and I’d expect him to take his coffee black, but I should’ve known better. My bears all have a sweet tooth, and Rowan poured enough sugar and milk into his mug, I’m not even sure thereiscoffee in this concoction.
“Mm.” I dart out my tongue, gathering a stray bead of liquid from the corner of my mouth as I return the mug to Rowan. “Yummy.”
Rowan lifts the mug to his mouth, putting his lips right where mine were seconds ago. Never taking his gaze off of my heavy-lidded stare, he drinks again. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he takes a rough swallow.
“So fucking sweet,” he growls, and I know instinctively that he’s not talking about the sugar bomb we both tasted.
Shit. I felt that growl all the way to my pussy. You’d think that, with three devoted mates to service us… three devoted mates who are making up for only just losing their virginity… you’d think that I’d need a bit of a break. Nope. She’s a greedy bitch, always wanting more.
I reach out again, trailing a finger along the side of Finn’s hand. I shift my position just enough to draw Colt’s attention to his hard cock while also leaving no doubt that I wish the thin material of my skirt—and only that—wasn’t separating us.
I don’t look away from Rowan, but before I can suggest we take our dessert into the living room where there’s enough room for the three of us to sprawl out comfortably, his eyes flash. His nostrils flare.
His fangs punch through.
I blink. “Rowan?”
He shoves the mug onto the tabletop. “Someone is on our territory.”
Finn’s slightly lovesick gaze—the same expression he has whenever he’s around me—snaps into a predatory snarl. Colt drops an open-mouthed kiss to the side of my neck, then eases me off of his lap. Once he’s on his feet, he guides me back to the chair, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he looks up for Rowan.
Rowan, though?
He’s already gone.
Still in his human form, there’s no other way to describe his gait than lumbering. That’s what he’s doing as he makes for the cabin’s front door. He lumbers, a sure sign that his bear is ready to explode out of his skin. Colt high-tails it right behind him, with Finn gesturing for me to stay in the kitchen before chasing his twin.
I know better than to venture out into the forest on my own. It’s a miracle I made it to the cabin in the first place without running into any of the other monsters that lurk in the shadows. I even convinced myself that the town council had oversold the dangers—and then I watched Rowan battle a massive wolf while searching for some sign of Charlotte.
The farthest I’ve gone since is the river for a little skinny-dipping with my mates before the winter chill has made that impossible. For the last few weeks, I haven’t even left the porch due to the constant snowfalls. It’s just too damn cozy inside, and with any one of the three brothers ready to entertain me whenever I need entertaining, I’m happy getting to be a homebody again.
Of course, I’m just as interested to know who is approaching our cabin as my bears are. For reasons I’ll never be able to explain—Fate! Magic! Straight up luck!—I found the cabin fairly easily myself, but we haven’t had another visitor since I let myself in.
Plus, I trust my guys. As bears or lumberjacks, using their claws or grabbing one of the axes off the wall, Rowan, Colt, and Finn will protect me. Whoever is out there will never get past the front door with me tucked away inside the cabin so there’s no reason for me to hide out in the kitchen.
I join them in the living room just as Rowan yanks open the door.
I’d bet that my overprotective mate was ready to march out into the night, prepared to find whoever was approaching the cabin and send them away before they got any closer. Rowan confessed that the reason why that wolf attacked him so ferociously was because he’d picked up on scent markings, realized they were territorial warnings, but kept going so that he didn’t disappoint me by turning back so quickly. Predators knowwhat to expect when they challenge other predators. His only regret was that I was there to witness it.
This ishisterritory.Ourterritory. Rowan seems ready to defend it, only stopping in time to keep from bulldozing over the slight figure standing on the porch.
I only notice that someone is there because Rowan draws back, then pulls himself to his full height. My angle in the living room gives me the chance to spy the much smaller person wrapped up in a heavy, deep red cloak. The hood is up, stray flurries clinging to the material. It shadows the face of whoever has braved the recent snowstorm to arrive at our cabin.
A pair of gloved hands reach up, grabbing the hood. Without saying a word, they remove the hood, revealing?—
I gasp.
Charlotte.
She looks exactly the same as I remember. Pale skin. Freckles dotting her nose. Vivid green eyes and ruby red hair that cascades down her back now that the hood is down. It’s been four years, but the beautiful woman I’m looking at hasn’t aged a day.
Like she’s been in Blackmoor like I suspected.
Like the magic welcomed her, and now she has her forever, too.
