“That’s a stupid law,” Tate grumbled, standing up to go.
“Hey, I don’t write the laws, I just enforce them. As do you. Go take a nap, why don’t you?”
“No time. Flowers to plant, hedges to trim, you know the drill. Apparently some hotshot Alpha’s getting married, and if his flower beds don’t look pretty, he’ll cry.”
“Ha ha,” Loch snorted. “Screw you. Go play with your bobcat some more, maybe it’ll sweeten your disposition.” It was tough talk from one Alpha to another, but the deep bond of affection that ran between the two cousins was as solid as iron.
Tate gave Loch a mock salute and left the office. He’d parked the car out on the street, under the shade of an oak tree, in the hopes that it wouldn’t be meltingly hot when he climbed back in.
As he walked toward the car, a smile tugged at his lips despite the fog of exhaustion that hazed his mind after his sleepless night of raw, animal sex. He was already mentally rearranging his house with Lainey in mind. He’d move to the big bedroom at the back of the house, where he and Lainey could have plenty of privacy at night. Megan’s room was on the same floor as the children, so she could keep an ear out for them in the evenings.
He had asked Lainey to stay, and she seemed to be strongly leaning toward saying yes.
She was so utterly perfect, he couldn’t believe that he’d been lucky enough to find her. Sexy, beautiful, sweet but sassy, and even more amazingly, his brothers and sisters liked her and she was absolutely wonderful with them. His brothers and sisters had hated the last woman he’d dated, the woman who’d secretly tried to ship them off to boarding school. They’d had temper tantrums every time he went on a date with her. That should have been a sign, he realized now.
But Lainey, or Kat, or whatever he was going to call her…now that was perfection wrapped up in one lush, delicious, puddy-tat package. His grin stretched wider at the memory of last night.
Then he reached his truck, and his smile disappeared.
Someone had heaved a rock through the driver’s side window and slashed two of the tires.
He tilted his head back in the air and sniffed. Frank Sinclair, of course. He could also pick up an odor of scentsbane, which Frank obviously didn’t know how to use, or Tate wouldn’t have been able to smell him. Anger boiled up inside him. Why couldn’t the whole Sinclair pack just run off a damned cliff?
He knew he could issue a Death Challenge to Frank or Quincy. He’d win, but after what he’d suffered with the loss of his father, he didn’t take killing lightly, even when it came to a useless little punk like Frank.
With a rumbling growl, he pulled out his cell phone and called the number of Quincy’s law firm. He told the secretary about the truck in clipped, angry tones. This once, he told Quincy’s secretary, he would not issue a Challenge to Frank or Quincy, but this was the last straw. He expected Quincy to pay for the repairs to his truck, and if he ever caught Frank anywhere near Megan or his family, or anywhere in his pack’s territory, he would issue a Death Challenge without a moment’s hesitation.
Chapter Ten
“So, he’s the one you were talking about? He’s my fated mate, right?” Lainey asked Marigold. Marigold was dusting the books in the boarding house’s sitting room, and Lainey had grabbed a broom to help her.
“Does he feel like your fated mate? Jeez, we need some books from this century. Some hot, sexy romance would be nice.” Marigold swept a feather duster over the Little House on the Prairie collection, and sneezed.
“He feels…amazing.” Lainey giggled, blushing at the memory of the night before, of Tate’s intimate explorations of her quaking body.
“I bet he does. He’s got quite the hot body. If I didn’t have an awesome fiancé, I’d be drooling all over him.”
“So, do psychics always answer a question with a question?”
“What makes you ask that?” Marigold asked with a devilish grin and a flourish of her duster.
“The fact that you—hey! You did it again.” Lainey poked at her with her broom.
“So, are you going to see Mr. Hot Stuff again tonight?”
“Yes, in fact, I am, Miss Nosy-butt. We have another dinner date at Henry’s house this evening. Thank you for letting us have sex on your fiancé’s bed. Don’t worry, I washed the bedding this morning, and I will do so again tomorrow morning.”
“It’s all good. That bed has a sturdy frame, doesn’t it?” Marigold reached up to dust a high shelf. She suddenly stiffened and scowled, setting her feather duster down on a side table. “I feel the presence of evil. Or at least something really annoying.”
“Are you sure it’s not just dust?”
“Do not question the evil-meter, woman. I’m a psychic.”
“You’re a love psychic. That’s different.”
Then Lainey heard a voice calling from the front of the house. “Lainey? Are you there?”