“No, thanks.”
“Why? Are you scared of water? I’ll keep you safe; I’m a great swimmer.” Mischief glinted in his eyes. “Would you like me to demonstrate the breast stroke?”
She laughed. “Oh, you have ‘trouble’ written all over you.”
“He has a habit of saying dirty lines.” Taryn sighed. “We still haven’t worked out why.”
“Don’t you flirt with her,” Greta told Dominic. “She was cast out of her old pack for having a foursome with the enforcers.”
Dominic’s smile grew to epic proportions. “Makenna, we absolutely have to get to know each other better.”
When Dante called out that the steaks were ready, Ryan turned to Zac. “Come on, let’s eat.” Dropping the football, the teenager followed him.
“You played well,” praised Trick as he jogged past with Marcus and Tao.
Marcus glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “Welcome to the pack, kid.”
The words made Zac come to an abrupt halt that only Ryan noticed. “What’s wrong?” There was a fair amount of distress on the teen’s face.
Zac spoke only loud enough for Ryan to hear. “My old pack will be looking for me. Makenna didn’t say it, but I know they are.”
Ryan’s claws sliced out, making Zac jolt in surprise—thankfully not in fear. “If they come here and cause trouble, they’ll die.”
“You don’t even know what happened in my old pack.”
“So tell me.”
“If I do, you won’t want me.”
“Whatever happened to you is not your fault,” snapped Ryan. He winced at his gruff tone, wishing he had more tact. “Many of the shifters at the shelter have suffered at the hands of others. Do you blame them? Do you think less of them?”
Zac jerked backward. “No.”
“Then there you go.” Ryan sheathed his claws. “You’re one of us now. If whoever hurt you comes here, we’ll kill them.” The words probably would have spooked another juvenile, but Zac seemed to find strength in them. “Come on.”
Tao sidled up to Ryan as they approached the buffet. “Quick question,” the Head Enforcer asked quietly. “What would happen if I asked Makenna out?”
With a calm he didn’t feel, Ryan said, “I’d rip out your throat before the last word escaped your mouth.”
Tao nodded. “Thought so.”
Ryan and Zac plated some food before joining the others at the patio table. Zac took the seat on Makenna’s left, and Ryan sat on her other side—forcing Dominic to move. “Here.” He put a plate of food in front of her, remembering from their conversations what she liked.
She looked from him to the plate and then flashed him a wide smile. “Thanks, Ryan. You’re a sweetie.”
Um, no he wasn’t. His pack mates’ expressions told him they were having the same thought. He didn’t fail to notice Taryn and Roni whispering to each other with a conspiratorial glint in their eyes as they watched him and Makenna. If they were planning on doing some matchmaking, he wouldn’t be opposed to it. He needed whatever help he could get.
As they ate, Ryan listened to Makenna talking with Jaime as they compared the workings of the animal shelter and the loner shelter. Greta directed some snide remarks at Makenna, but his mate ignored them with total ease. She truly didn’t appear at all bothered by them, and he wondered if it was because—as a loner—she was used to such verbal abuse. In any case, Ryan didn’t like it. “Greta, don’t.”
“You didn’t hear why she was banished from her pack.”
If Taryn’s smile was anything to go by, Makenna had merely been toying with Greta. Ryan could easily believe that, given her antagonistic streak.
“This day is for Zac, Greta,” interjected Trey. “You will not spoil it for him.”
He’d taken the words right out of Ryan’s mouth. As he reached for the ketchup, Ryan accidentally knocked over the salt. Makenna quickly pinched some of the spilled salt between her thumb and index finger, and then offered it to him. Not understanding, he just looked at her.
“Throw it over your left shoulder.”
Ryan blinked. “Why?”
“You knocked over the salt.”
And apparently that was supposed to mean something to him. At a loss, which was often the case when it came to Makenna, he said nothing.
“You have to throw some over your left shoulder to keep away bad luck.”
He looked at his pack mates, surprised to see that the females—including Greta—all nodded, as if her words made perfect sense. Hell, even some of the males seemed to agree with this totally irrational claim. “It’s just salt.”
“But you knocked it over,” persisted Makenna.
“I don’t believe in luck, good or bad.” She knew that already.
Makenna shook her head sadly. “Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.” Like he’d made some kind of fatal decision.
“It’s just salt.”
“Spilled salt. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will when bad luck comes your way. Again.”