A Wolf After My Own Heart by MaryJanice Davidson (free romance novels TXT) 📗
- Author: MaryJanice Davidson
Book online «A Wolf After My Own Heart by MaryJanice Davidson (free romance novels TXT) 📗». Author MaryJanice Davidson
“And you’re late. I’ll bet Berne is champing at the bit to get into the air or the Shifter equivalent.”
“Gnawing at the bone,” he replied absently. “Oh. Hi, Mama.”
“Nice of you to notice, boy,” Macropi replied dryly. “Seein’ as how I’ve been standing four feet away this whole time.”
“Magnus is going to fly us to the crash site. We’ll be gone a few hours.”
“No worries, then. I’ll watch the cubs. And the fire chief told me there’d always be someone in the neighborhood to keep half an eye on this place until we catch who set the fire.”
Random fire fighters hang out to house-sit? Must be a Shifter thing. “Thank you,” Lila replied. “Also, stay out of my shed. For no particular reason.”
This earned her a snort. “Foolish cubs. Oh, I might rearrange your cupboards a little.”
“Touch nothing, Macropi.”
Oz jumped back in. “Gotta go gotta go gotta go-go-go.”
“Touch nothinggggggg!” she hollered as Oz hauled her out of the house and over to his pretty, pretty car. He slid her bag off her shoulder, then tossed it into the backseat. “Hey! For all you know, I packed a dozen jars in the hopes we’d find a beehive.”
“If that’s what you packed, they deserve to get smashed. Because that’s just insane. C’mon, it’s only fifteen minutes to the airport from here.” Oz started the car, then pulled out of the drive the second she closed the passenger door.
“Your grille looks like a pair of kidneys.”
“Huh? Okay.” Oz seemed entirely focused on getting them to the airport ASAP. Lila could count on one hand (one finger, actually) how often she’d ridden in a BMW SUV, so she decided to settle back and enjoy the ride. “Orange, huh? Did you just fall in love with the floor model and snatch it up? Or do you really, really like orange?”
“Sunset metallic,” he corrected. “What’s wrong with the color?”
“Nothing. I love riding around in a huge metal pumpkin.”
He snorted. “Y’know, anyone else would wonder why we were going to the airport.”
“Why? Seems obvious. You want to get a look for yourself. Or a smell for yourself… That’s it, isn’t it? You want to prowl and smell and solve the mystery. You can’t expose Sally to such a sight, but you can expose yourself. Uh. I’ll rephrase…”
“All those things. And we should go out again.”
“Let’s see how things go in the field. And why me?”
“Are you kidding? You’re all I think about.”
“That’s disconcerting, especially given your new line of work. Maybe spare some thought for Sally?”
“You’re eighty-five percent of all I think about.”
“Better.” Then, in a low voice, “Really? Not that I care. ButIthinkaboutyoutoo.”
“So come out with me later,” he coaxed. “I promise to grovel. If you want revenge, you can break into my condo and rummage through all my drawers.”
“Tempting,” she admitted. “But we’re getting off track. Why aren’t you bringing Garsea and Auberon instead of me?”
“You said it yourself. You’re in until Sally’s safe. Inviting you along is easier than trying to keep you out of it.”
“How wise of you to know it.” She was glad but more than a little surprised. Auberon and Garsea were more qualified for the airborne ride-along. Was Oz just naturally this inclusive and accommodating or was he trying to score points?
Why does it have to be one or the other?
“Besides,” he continued, “you’re letting us live in your house, for God’s sake.”
“Not you, Oz. Everyone but you. I feel like I can’t emphasize that enough. I also noticed your huge suitcase in the back when you were trying to break my jars.”
“I need more clothes, obviously. I can’t wear your robe all the time. As for the others, Bob—that’s our boss—heroically reminded Annette that she has her own caseload to worry about. And by ‘heroically,’ I mean he sent her a text and then locked himself in his office.”
“Amateur. Garsea can get through a locked door.”
“Uh. Yeah. About that… She felt bad before—”
“She would have felt worse if she’d kept opening more of my drawers. She thought the bottom one was bad? Just wait.”
“—but now that we know you better, she feels really bad. Also, at the risk of repeating myself, we should go out again. A pretense-less lunch. Or any kind of lunch you like.” He glanced away from the road to look her right in the eyes. Green eyes green eyes ohthosebeautifuleyes. “It’s so fucking decent of you to help me,” he added, squeezing her hand.
“No.”
He dropped her hand. “What?”
“I’m not helping you. I’m helping Sally. You should probably keep that straight in your head. She’s the priority, not you or Garsea or Macropi. Also Macropi’s arsonist. They’re my other priority. If I empty a shotgun into someone’s face, d’you think you could look the other way?”
“Depends on the face.”
She laughed. “That’s cold. Almost as cold as me.”
“Cold is the last adjective I’d use to describe you.”
“Chilly.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Frosty”
“Nope.”
“Icy.”
“Nope.”
“Frigid?”
“Christ, I hope not.”
* * *
“And here I’ve been giving Delta all my frequent miles like a sucker.”
Berne chuckled. “Keep with them, lass. I’ve got no plans to put any major carrier out of business.”
They were mounting the steps to the plane while Berne finished his preflight check. Lila had been surprised to see Oz skip the Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport for a vastly smaller airfield just outside Lakeville. They’d been directed to the right gate (one of five possibilities), and then Oz took her outside, where Berne was prowling around his plane like an overprotective…well. Bear. No TSA, no pat down, no wildly overpriced bad coffee.
The Cessna was a small white plane with long navy blue stripes along the body and belly. She could see three windows in addition to the cockpit, and then she and Oz were ducking their heads to enter the cabin and take their seats. It wasn’t her first ride on a single-engine
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