Page 17 of Wild Fated Mate
“Easy as that?” He looked sideways at me as we maneuvered past a group of staring, giggling girls who went silent as we passed, before they erupted into squeals and high-pitched chatter.
I whipped my head around and snarled at them. Mine!
“Serena?” Gavin stopped with me.
The group behind me was silent, except for a muttered, “Weirdo.”
“Uh, guess I’m feeling a little protective, too.” I stammered. My cheeks were hot, my heart pounding. What the hell just happened?
“Do you feel okay? Are you hungry?”
“I–I’m fine, just…” I gave a nervous laugh. “It’s silly, but those girls were looking at you, and I just…” I threw my free hand up. “I don’t know what came over me.”
A slow, smug grin crept across his face. “I do.” His eyes flashed that cinnamon gold I’d seen in the woods, but out in the bright daylight without the shadows or trees to excuse as a trick of the light.
But he didn’t elaborate on his comment. Yelling at him in the woods, the intense connection, and now snapping at those girls? I was off-kilter, and unusually grumpy.
“Would you like to share your insight, or just keep it to yourself?” I snipped as I flipped my braid over my shoulder and resumed walking.
“That’s five for the attitude.” His low growl was right in my ear.
“Five what?”
“Five solid smacks on that juicy ass.”
“Ungh.” I wanted to crawl in a hole at the desperate noise I made.
His dark laugh didn’t help, and each step felt like liquid heat dripping from my core.
His grip tightened on my hand, and when I glanced up, his nostrils flared and he was breathing hard.
“Gavin, what’s wro–”
“Too many people here.” He blew out a breath. “You turn me on so damn much, and I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Same,” I muttered. “Is it weird that all I want to do is hole up somewhere with you and not come out for days?” Was that normal? I’d never been in love before or felt this intense wash of emotions—except when I’d confronted Gavin just this morning. It all happened so fast. Like a movie played in slow-motion, then sped up to super-speed at the end. I hoped our story never ended.
“So where are we going?”
“Our cabin.”
“Our cabin?”
“Was mine. Now you’re mine, so it’s ours.” He was practically panting between words, and I was really starting to worry.
I slowed. Something was wrong. I’d never attended a Roaring Rangers meeting with the girls or been any kind of a scout when I was a kid. What if this was like that moment in the woods when he looked like he was having stroke?
“Don’t stop, Sunshine.”
“But you’re?—”
He wasn’t listening. He pulled me off my feet, into his arms, and out the gates of the festival. “I’m fine.”
Some man started yelling his name, and I peeked past Gavin’s big bicep to see a guy who could have been Gavin—if my man wore a kilt and carried telephone poles.
“Do you know that man? He definitely looked like he knew you.”
The man let out a loud whistle, and I could see his mouth moving, but we were too far away to really hear.
