“Misha?” I bent down and peered inside. “My princess, oh baby! Mama’s here,” I cried, pushing my finger inside the cage and letting her smell me.
I took the cage and set it by my feet so I could face Wheeler. He was grinning at me with all his teeth—something I didn’t see him do very often. So I slapped that grin off his face and then attacked him with a passionate kiss. His fingers clawed at my back and he growled, pressing my body against the car. His tongue went deep and I moaned into his mouth.
“Oh brother,” Lexi said, getting inside the car and slamming the door.
Wheeler finally broke the kiss, out of breath. “Why did you do that?”
I bent down and lifted the carrier. “I slapped you for putting my baby in the trunk of the car, and I kissed you for saving her life.”
He chuckled. “You’re serious about those punishments, aren’t you?”
“Just wait until you see what I have planned for you later tonight for slapping my panther.”
His eyes hooded and he rubbed his cheek. “I might actually like that.”
“Fabulous. Misha is in need of a good brushing.”
“Hey, now. Don’t you think that’s a little extreme? I was only trying to get your panther to kill me.”
I chuckled and ran my fingers through my hair. “I have a feeling we’re going to be at each other like cats and dogs.”
Wheeler made a sexy, deep growl and waggled his eyebrows. I made my way up the driveway toward the porch. Lynn was waiting for me in the doorway, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere.
Even more, I felt like I belonged with someone. And that was even better.
Chapter 25
Two days had passed since the night of Wheeler’s rescue. We’d spent all afternoon preparing the house for the costume party, everyone buzzing around like busy bees.
The pack had accepted our arrangement, although we got a few puzzled stares. I decided to remain in the heat house until I figured out how I fit in with the pack. Austin wanted to introduce my panther to the pack, but Wheeler would have to be present since he was the only one she trusted. And I began to trust my animal, realizing that all these years I’d been stereotyping her just as much as everyone else had. Now I knew she wouldn’t harm anyone I cared for, and I felt genuine love for most of the pack. Some of them I hadn’t gotten to know very well, but I had confidence there wouldn’t be problems.
I only had concerns with Ben. He’d been absent, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Neither he nor Wheeler had discussed what had happened between them, but something was going on. I tried cornering Wheeler in my room to talk about it, but he changed the topic by attacking me with kisses.
He was really good at that, and I loved a man who knew how to start a new topic.
I also loved a man who brushed my cat.
“Naya, you look… I mean, is that costume legal?” Lexi asked.
“Only in three states, but we’ll find a way to make do.”
I glanced down at my costume, which was more than I’d be wearing if I were still working at the club. A red satin corset with black trim hugged my body, and a black ruffle skirt hung from my hips, short in the front with a slight tail in the back. What really set it off was the garter belt and heels. All our costumes came with masks—mine was a simple black mask over the eyes with feathers on the side.
“Austin still hasn’t seen my outfit,” she said, holding out her skirt. “What do you think he’ll say?”
“Hot tamale! The man is going to pass out cold and need mouth-to-mouth.”
Lexi had chosen a classic eighteenth-century ball gown—delicate gold the color of champagne, and a subtle petticoat beneath to give it a lift. An open neckline with a wide ruffle drew attention to her chest, whereas the rest of her body was covered. Her loose sleeves had lace at the wrists, and there was such attention to detail on every delicate texture and fold of the fabric that it was difficult to look away.
Lexi snapped out her fan and flipped her wrist, sending waves of air toward her face. She had pinned up her brown hair and wore only a hint of blush and lipstick.
“If you want to know the truth, darling, all the men will be looking at you. This?” I said, pointing down at my outfit. “They can pay to see it at any hot club. But you are going to make every Packmaster green with envy. You’re regal.”
She fanned harder. “I feel more like cookies in a hot oven. Can you tell Denver to run downstairs and crank the air lower? When this house fills up with Shifters, it’s going to be even hotter. Dammit! I have to pee again. This should be a fun evening. I might as well walk around with an easy-access hole in my skirt.”
I giggled and approached the door. “Good luck with that. Just don’t bend over or you’re likely to start a pack war. I’ll go take care of the air.”