Page 121 of Ice Wolf
What was that old adage? You couldn’t live with them, but you couldn’t kill them. Well, here was the real kick in the pants. Maybe shifters could live forever. Well, I guess if that was true, where was my great-great-grandfather now? Ogling some cute young female wolf in the Caribbean?
The thoughts that had been running through my mind were insane. Stark images flowing through my brain constantly, enough I was fearful all that brain matter would soon be pickled.
And the images were very colorful.
As I closed my car door, I sucked in my breath. None of this might matter any longer if I was fired. I hadn’t been by my father, but that didn’t mean the client, and in this case the coach and the Wild Dogs’ attorney wouldn’t do the deed. Then I’d be forced to tell my father I was to blame. Again.
Maybe he’d be lenient with me since he’d left out the part I was a freaking werewolf! No, a she-wolf. A she-monster. Oh, hell, whatever I was called.
“You ready?” Saint asked after he crawled out of his Jeep. He’d obviously returned to his house against my orders. Whatever. The man could do what he wanted. I certainly wasn’t his keeper.
Or his anything.
He’d made that perfectly clear. The way he’d popped the question had been so romantic. Maybe not in a traditional way, but our relationship was pretty rocky. And strange.
Then he’d gone and ruined it by acting nonchalant.
That’s exactly what I’d done to him. Tit for tat.
“I’m ready. Just keep your cool and maybe I can convince them to allow you to start. The last thing your team needs is to back down on offense in playing the Tampa Bay Gators. Rufus Jackson is a damn good left defenseman and, in my opinion, a man who could slap you down with one hand, skim you around the ice, and make you the puck for their team.”
I felt his grin before I noticed it. “You’ve been studying up.”
I adjusted my sunglasses and started walking toward the entrance. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
He woofed behind me.
I stopped short, turned around, and peered over the top of my shades. “Was that a howl?”
“It sure was.”
“Don’t. Just don’t do that again.”
“Why, yes, ma’am.” He laughed as he trailed behind me. As soon as we were inside, he threw his arm around my waist, crowding me closer to his body.
His overheated body.
I suddenly had a heat flash instigating from deep in my core. How was it possible the man could do that to me?
My heels, which were now currently covered in grass, clipped on the tile as we headed to the coach’s office. I was much more nervous than before because I felt as if I’d failed to live up to anyone’s expectations.
Nervous, I kept my mouth shut, stopping in front of Coach Cavanaugh’s door briefly so I could flick my hair over my shoulders.
I didn’t need to knock. The door was flung open and Assistant Coach Edmonds burst into a huge grin.
“You two are right on time. Come on in.”
I quickly glanced at Saint. The man’s chirpy attitude certainly wasn’t what either one of us had expected.
“Glad you’re both here,” Coach Cavanaugh stated, less lilt in his tone.
“Thank you.” I couldn’t read the men at all. We walked in and I finally had to give Saint yet another much harsher look since he still had his arm wrapped around me as if I truly was his possession.
Between the three men in the room, I couldn’t detect much anger. Maybe a little dissatisfaction, but certainly not the kind of rage I’d expected.
Or that I’d felt.
Saint had a way of doing that do a person.
