Page 6 of The Werewolf Cowboy
As he fished out his cell from his sheepskin jacket, someone sniggered and whispered, “Loser.”
Grayson dragged up his gaze to meet the sullen stare of Charles, another Mitchell pack Lupine. Charles, who’d developed a deep hatred for his neighbor.
“Go back to Las Vegas, where scum like you belong,” Charles said a little louder. “We don’t need your kind around here.”
He nearly dropped the cell. Instead he carefully placed it back in his pocket. How the hell did Charles know where he’d lived ten years ago? All he’d told anyone in the Mitchell pack was that he lived in Colorado for a while before buying the Double D.
Did Charles suspect what he was?
Kick his ass. Tear him up so he’ll never tell a soul…
He could take him, but not with Katy watching. She’d question why he fought with Charles and then find out the reason for the darkness in his soul.
Not now. Give her time. She needs time before you make your intentions clear…
If she found out what Grayson was now, she’d run away screaming. He didn’t want her terrified.
He wanted her willing and accepting, maybe a little submissive when he took her to his bed and sank his teeth into her neck as he sank his cock deep into her virgin sheath, branding her as his own forever.
Grayson tipped down his Stetson and ignored the taunt. Charles took a big swallow from his glass as his shoulders sagged.
Drunk Lupine.
Boot heels hooked around the barstool, Grayson stared at his drink. He was a powerful wolf who could snap a human neck with one twist.
He was lone wolf. A wolf who refused to shift.
A wolf who was more dangerous than even the grizzly shifter playing darts. Hell, he’d better leave before the wild lust riding him overtook all his tight control, and he stormed over to Katy and made his true nature known.
But as he drained his whiskey and started to dig for his wallet, the fresh scent of vanilla, wildflowers and cool rain flooded his senses, pushing aside sour beer, sweat, and crude male lust.
Grayson stiffened. He didn’t need eyes in the back of his head to know the lady in question stood right behind him.
What did she want?
Two weeks ago, she’d fantasized about Grayson being nude.
Now, seeing him at The Bar, the fantasy returned.
Even though Aiden trusted and liked Grayson, her immediate family naturally distrusted a lone wolf tending to his own small spread. But Katy saw the deep loneliness in his blue eyes. Grayson treated her as if her opinion mattered, and listened, really listened when everyone else wanted to coddle her in cotton wool or her five rambunctious, overly protective older brothers questioned where she went, and why.
She loved her family, but they suffocated her with rules and worry. When Holly and Sherry decided on celebrating her legal entry into Lupine adulthood, Katy had suggested The Bar. The wild impulse was only because of Grayson.
Katy wanted to see Grayson outside the restrictions of pack events. She felt this odd tug toward him, as if he were the only Lupine who truly understood her.
“Hi, Grayson.” She took the empty seat next to him. Out of the corner of her eye, Holly and Sherry gave her two thumbs up and mouthed,Go for it!
Grayson turned back to his glass. “Go away, Katy. This place ain’t for you.”
Stung, she ignored his request and waved to the bartender, ordering a beer. “I’m old enough to be here.”
He snorted. “Not for this bar, Katy. Go home before something bad happens.”
You’re the something bad I wish would happen to me.The thought danced around her mind like a balloon about to pop.
“You’re not my brothers or my father, so quit giving me advice I’ll ignore.” She took a long pull of the brew set before her.
She wondered how Grayson managed to suppress his wolf around the Skins during the full moon. She struggled to control her wild nature against running with the moon, howling at inappropriate times.
