“She is stubborn like her mother. Hand me the phone.”
I laughed and thought about the hell Lorenzo was going to put Hope’s future suitors through.
Austin gripped my chair and pulled it next to his. Then he scooped me onto his lap, and I nuzzled against his whiskery neck, breathing in his musky scent. Damn, I loved the way that man smelled.
Suddenly, I got the tingles.
God, no.
I tried to push him away, but Austin planted his lips on mine. He was a masterful kisser. The things he could do with his tongue, the way he’d pull me in and kiss me harder, the way our bodies seemed to meld together—it was as if he were making love to me with his kiss. The stubble on his jaw scratched against my skin, and another wave of tingles roared through me. I moaned, fighting the urge to straddle him.
Need distance!
I sprang off his lap, steering myself toward the kitchen. Sometimes just being near an alpha male would trigger a heat episode, and I was about to ride him like a Harley in front of all my guests.
“Uh-oh,” April said, licking pie filling off the butter knife. “I’ve seen that look before. Reno, I think it’s time for us to say good night.”
His jaw slackened, hands still gripping his plate of uneaten apple pie.
April laughed and said, “I swear, if that man ever had to choose between me and your pie, I’d be in serious trouble.”
I tried to contain my mischievous grin. “Why make him choose? Go home and put that pie right between your—”
She slapped a hand over my mouth. “Reno, wrap up your dessert and let’s go. It’s late, and we need to head back before it starts snowing again.”
Ivy rubbed my shoulders from behind. “It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for inviting us, and not just for dinner. Both Lorenzo and I appreciate your invitation to join you here in Colorado. We don’t get out as often as we should, and it’s nice to finally see what you’ve done with the pieces I’ve spent years restoring.”
I turned around. “Your furniture is what makes this place feel like a second home. The only thing missing is a throw that will match the décor. We bought blankets, but I want to drape something light over the back of that hideous sofa. I can’t seem to find anything with the right patterns.”
She tapped her finger on her chin. “I have an idea. There’s a woman in our pack who’s a skilled weaver. Leave it to me.”
Everyone gathered near the door and slipped on their coats. April hummed a Billy Joel song while putting on a pair of cute snow boots with white fur around the top. Ivy had on brown mukluks and a knee-length suede coat. She said the fur-lined boots kept her feet toasty warm but weren’t entirely waterproof.
The snowdrifts were deep, but the pathways that connected the cabins through the dense forest were passable. We didn’t have to fear wild animals when traversing through the woods; they could sense a Shifter and usually kept their distance.
I blew out a frosty breath when we stepped off the porch. I was in awe of how a mixture of moonlight and snow could create so much visibility. Our boots crunched across the white blanket of snow as we headed toward the path on the left that led to Reno and April’s cabin. Everyone had chosen to walk since it was a nice evening, and because Lorenzo’s cabin was just down the road, their hike wasn’t as arduous.
April shivered and curled against Reno for warmth, though I wasn’t sure how much heat was penetrating through his leather jacket.
Ivy gazed up at the moon with fear glittering in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“There’s blood on the moon.”
I hugged my arms and looked up. Sure enough, there was a red tint. “Huh. Maybe it’s an eclipse. I’ve heard that happens.”
“It’s not an eclipse,” Reno said.
I twisted around. “Now how would you know that, Mr. Science?”
He shrugged. “I watch a lot of PBS specials.”
Ivy lowered her eyes and patted the snow with her cane. “My mother used to tell me bedtime stories about a blood moon. She said it foretold one of two things: either the passing of a great warrior or a coming battle.”
“Cole, take a look at this,” Lorenzo called out.
Lorenzo had branched away from us and was kneeling beneath a tree. We crossed the short distance and stopped where the snow became patchy. Lorenzo scooped up a clump of dirt and rubbed it between his fingers, then held it to his nose and drew in a breath.
He rose to his feet and regarded Austin with a serious tone. “Someone’s been here. Did you mark the property line?”
“Twice.”
Lorenzo wiped the caked mud from his fingertips. “I’m a skilled tracker—a talent my ancestors have passed down through each generation. Our tribe believed a good warrior could never protect his family unless he learned to heal or to hunt. I learned both.”
“Maybe it’s the owner,” Austin considered, running his fingers through his dark hair.
“The owner would sneak over in the middle of the night to mark land he knows you’re on?”