Candace gulped and jogged to catch up with Torren’s long strides, her boots crunching in the snow. “Does Vyr eat a lot of people?”
“Yep. And don’t worry about the swan. I rigged him up a house with a heater.” Torren pointed to a tiny replica of the mansion with an opening and an orange glowing light emanating from within. “The fucker is just too dumb to stay in it for more than thirty minutes at a time. I think it likes the cold.
Mr. Diddles was watching them ghost the edge of his pond with one suspicious, beady eye. Candace didn’t like birds that much, but maybe it was the tiger in her. “You built that swan house?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Okay, that’s extra sexy-points because a handyman is a sexy man.”
Torren came to an abrupt stop and turned to her, his head cocked. “Really?”
“Umm, yes. I can barely put together a bookshelf that is mostly assembled and includes directions. I’m not mechanically minded at all.” She came to a stop beside him and looked up. “Where did you learn how to build something like that? It’s beautiful. And thoughtful.”
“Not thoughtful. Vyr loves that stupid oversized goose, and if he dies, Vyr will Change and burn everything to the ground and get us all arrested and probably eat like…half the town. I probably should’ve said that last part first because it’s the most important part, but…you know…I don’t want to go to shifter prison if I can avoid it.” He cracked a stunning smile. “I hear the food there sucks.”
“No bananas?” she teased.
“Oh, she’s got monkey jokes.”
After Candace curtsied magnanimously, Torren did something that shocked her. He ruffled her hair and shoved her gently. “You’re gonna be annoying. I can already tell.” He sauntered away, but the way he’d said it made her smile. There was affection in his voice. Or amusement perhaps. And when he turned and flashed her a smile over his shoulder, something electric snapped inside of her and made her gasp.
Torren walked backward and dragged his flirty gaze down and then up her body again. “You coming?”
“Only if you make me.”
“Make you come?” he asked, his smile growing brighter and eyes churning with naughtiness. “I’d wreck you for everyone else. You don’t want that, Wildcat. You want to be able to settle with mediocre sex someday.”
“Cocky,” she accused, following him step-for-step.
Torren glanced down at his crotch and gave a nod. “Yep. Big cocky.”
“You’re gonna be really annoying,” she said, stealing his words. “I can already tell.” Candace bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, shaped it into a ball, and chucked it at him.
Torren ducked it easily. “You throw like a stripper.”
“Oh, my gosh, how many times are you going to bring that up?”
Torren bent easily and scooped snow in his giant hand, then packed a giant snowball. “At least a dozen times a day. That’s how I plan to chase you off, don’t you know? Shame you for your shameful profession.”
“You’re being mean,” she said, jumping out of the way of his snowball.
“Haven’t you heard about silverbacks? We’re the worst.”
“All of you are assholes?”
“Every last one.”
“Even Kong?”
Torren stopped walking backward and frowned. “My dad’s the only good silverback.”
Candace smiled sadly and admitted, “Sometimes I think my dad was the only good tiger.”
They stood there looking at each other, neither one saying what they’d just admitted. Each had told the other they weren’t good. That the good in their family had stopped with their fathers.
Torren straightened his spine and inhaled deeply. “Smells like dinner is on. What do you drink? We have cheap beer or tap water.”
“No fancy wine in the mansion?” she asked.
Torren’s lip twitched, but not in amusement. It wasn’t a smile. “Look around the house when you go inside. Really look. We aren’t living fancy here, Wildcat.” Torren dropped his gaze to the snow, then back to her for just a moment before he spun and strode toward the enclosed back porch.
Huh. Candace followed and opened the door that had banged closed behind him. And then she did as he asked. She really looked around. The porch was much warmer, protected from the breeze by windowed walls, but the table was nothing more than a cheap, fold-out card table that sat six. The chairs were mismatched plastic ones and two had duct tape on the legs. A blue cooler that was old and scratched sat by a charcoal grill that probably cost thirty bucks at the general store. Vyr and Nox were pulling burgers off and Nevada was setting out a tray of tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce. There were heaters above attached at each corner, but none were turned on and everyone was wearing their jackets.
“Can I help?” she asked Nevada.
“Yeah, you wanna grab napkins and a knife for the mustard?” she muttered as she began opening the condiments on the table. “Oh! And grab the strawberries?”
“Sure,” Candace murmured, making her way inside. She could see the great room from here and really took it in. The couch and loveseat were red and brown and didn’t match. They were made of tattered, old leather with rips on some of the seats. The end tables looked like they came from thrift stores, and there was nothing decorating the walls or the mantle over the stone hearth. The kitchen was beautiful with polished granite countertops and hand-scraped wooden cabinets. But when she opened the cupboard near the fridge, it had plastic cups from barbecue restaurants and paper plates.
“See?” Torren asked from right behind her.
It should’ve startled her, how quiet he could sneak up on her, but for some reason she didn’t even jump. Her body reacted differently to the sound of his deep, snarly voice. It sent a hard shiver up her spine, and she didn’t turn around.
“I like that reaction. I like that I can make you tremble,” he said, even closer to her.
His warmth radiated onto her back, and when he brushed her arm with the tips of his fingers, she automatically exhaled and melted backward against his solid stone chest. It was like resting against a wall, but one that made her feel safe somehow.
A deep, satisfied rumble rattled from his chest against her shoulder blades.
“You said you would ruin me for other men,” she whispered, her eyes closed so she could feel his fingertips running through her hair. “What if I’m already ruined?”
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice nearly inhuman. “You’re calling the animal. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”
She responded with a purr and arched her back, pressing her backside against his erection. Big boy. His hand gripped her hip to keep her in place, and his other hand tightened in her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck.